Ghouls Gone Wild Page 2

  He squinted at me angrily. He glared at the pair of gray pants in my hands. He scowled and shook a fist at me.

  Mrs. Wright hurried over. “Max, I—I'm speechless,” she said. “I am very, very angry. Can you explain what just happened here?”

  I handed the soggy pants to her. “Would you believe it was an accident?” I said.

  Mrs. Wright squeezed my shoulder. “See me in my office after school,” she said through gritted teeth. “Don't plan on going anywhere, Max. You and I are going to have a long, long talk.”

  Tara appeared at my side. “Want Nicky and me to come with you?” she asked.

  6

  I DIDN'T GET HOME till almost dinnertime. Mrs. Wright and I had a very long talk. Only, she did all the talking.

  Nicky and Tara were waiting for me in my room when I got home. “Sorry, Max,” Tara said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Guess that didn't go very well.”

  “I really wanted to hear your speech,” Nicky said.

  “What a shame the mayor ruined everything,” Tara added.

  I let out a scream. “The mayor ruined everything?” I screamed again. “You got that wrong. You two ruined everything!”

  I'd never felt so angry in my life.

  Tara shrank back against the window. “We were only trying to help,” she said. “Why didn't you let me give him the trophy? I told you I really wanted to.”

  “You can't do everything you want!” I shouted. “You ruined everything. You're ruining my whole life!”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You're hurting my feelings, Max.”

  “We were only trying to help,” Nicky said. “Remember? We promised to help each other?”

  I tossed my backpack at him. It went right through him and bounced off the wall.

  “Don't be angry,” Tara said.

  “Angry?” I cried. “Angry? I’m furious!”

  “Max, think how dull your life would be without us,” Nicky said.

  “I like dull!” I screamed. “After living with you, I want a dull life. Years and years of dull! I hope nothing interesting ever happens to me again! I want you to go away. Go away!”

  Tara gasped. Nicky backed against the wall. They both vanished.

  My brother, Colin, peered into my room. “What are you doing, Fat Face? Why are you screaming like a baby? Need your bottle?”

  “These are screaming exercises,” I said. “It's a new workout. To build my lung power.”

  Colin stepped into my room. I saw that he was wearing boxing gloves. “You can help me with my new workout,” he said. He raised his gloves. “Come on, punk. Let's box.”

  I backed away. “No. No thanks,” I said. “Sounds like a lot of fun. But no thanks.”

  Colin danced closer. He waved the gloves in my face. “Help me with my boxing workout.”

  “But… I don't have any gloves!” I said.

  “You don't need any,” Colin replied. “You're the punching bag.”

  Powpow powpow pow powpow pow.

  7

  COLIN WAS HAVING an outstanding workout. Who says I'm not a good athlete? I make a great punching bag.

  Finally, after about ten thousand punches, Mom shouted for us to come downstairs to dinner.

  “Thanks for the workout,” Colin said.

  I was holding my stomach, in too much pain to answer. I stumbled down to the kitchen.

  Unless we have company, we eat dinner at the kitchen table with the TV on. Dad likes to watch the Channel 600 news because they show all the car accidents in town.

  Dad loves to watch car accidents. Maybe it's because he's a big Mack truck of a guy who can mow anyone down. My dad is huge and red-faced, with a shiny head that's almost totally bald except for a strip of short bristly hair that curves around from ear to ear. He has a bright red and blue tattoo of a fire-breathing dragon on one bicep.

  My mom and dad look really funny when they stand together. He's so big and wide, and she's tiny and short and skitters around like a little bird.

  “Steak. My fave,” I said. I leaned over my plate and took a deep sniff. “Mmmmm.”

  “A special dinner tonight, Max,” Mom said. “Since you had a special day. And your dad has a special announcement to make. How did it go at school this morning? Did the mayor like your speech?”

  “Uh…yeah,” I muttered.

  “Wow. That car totally blew up!” Dad said. He already had steak sauce all over his cheeks and chin. “Did you see that head-on crash? Whoa, boy! Show that one again!”

  He always talks to the TV while we eat.

  “Maxie, would you like mashed potatoes?” Mom asked.

  “Maxie likes soft food,” Colin said. “Because he's a baby.”

  “Colin, don't call your brother names on his special day,” Mom scolded.

  “I wasn't,” Colin said.

  Dad gulped down a huge chunk of steak. Still swallowing, he pointed to me with his fork. “Max, you were there when it happened. I heard some jerky kid at your school knocked the mayor into the new swimming pool.”

  Gulp.

  I decided to play innocent. “Really?” I said.

  “And then the kid de-pantsed the mayor! Hee-hee-hee. He pulled Stank's pants off in front of everyone!” Dad started laughing and choking at the same time. Mom had to walk over and slap him on the back.

  “Isn't that a riot?” Dad pounded the table with one hand. “Can you believe a stupid kid did that to the mayor?”

  “I…can't believe it,” I mumbled. I hid my face behind my pile of potatoes.

  “Hey, check it out!” Colin cried. He pointed to the TV. “It's on the news. The thing at your school. Watch!”

  I couldn't breathe. My heart sank to my knees. I wanted to dive headfirst into the mashed potatoes and not come out.

  All four of us watched me on TV as I swung the trophy, clonked Mayor Stank in the head, and sent him flying into the pool. And then, a few seconds later, there I was, leaning over the edge of the pool, yanking off the big man's trousers.

  Must See TV.

  It took a while. But Mom finally recognized me. She pressed her hands to her face. “Oh no. Oh no. It was you, Max.”

  “You stupid klutz!” Colin cried. He tossed a dinner roll across the table. It bounced off my forehead. “Max, now the whole city knows what a total jerk you are! How could you do it?”

  “I had help,” I muttered.

  Dad turned away from the TV. He wiped the steak sauce from his face with his T-shirt sleeve. He was staring hard at me the whole time.

  “You're a disgrace, Max,” he said. “It's a good thing we're moving away.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I let out a loud, startled gasp. “Huh? Moving?”

  Dad nodded. “Yeah. That's my special announcement. I got a job in Dallas. We're selling this house and moving to Texas.”

  8

  MOM SMILED AT COLIN and me. “That's why we're having this lovely steak dinner. To celebrate the good news.”

  Good news?

  Was it good news?

  Leave my friends? My school?

  Start over again in a whole new place?

  That's not good news. That's bad news.

  But whoa. Wait. Hold on a minute.

  No more ghosts! I could get away from those ghosts. Have a normal life.

  Goodbye, Nicky and Tara. Goodbye, pests! I'm off to Texas and leaving you behind.

  No way could they ruin my life in Texas!

  Colin turned to Dad. Another car crash came on the TV news. Colin had to shake Dad by the shoulders to get his attention. “You know I've got to work out, Dad. Keep my body fit. Will there be room in the new house for my own gym?”

  Dad nodded. “Yeah. Plenty of room. Wow. That guy got rear-ended by three SUVs. His car looks like an accordion!”

  Colin grinned at me. “My own gym. Max, I won't have to use you as a punching bag anymore.” His grin grew wider. “Well…only sometimes.”

  I wasn't thinking about Colin's gym. I was thinking about m
y new life. A life without ghosts. A life where I wouldn't be embarrassed in front of the whole town!

  The car accident report was over. Dad turned to me. “Texas will make a man out of you, Max,” he said. “You'll learn to ride horses.”

  “Horses?” I said. My voice cracked. “Horses make me sneeze. Even when I see them on TV!”

  “You'll get used to them,” Mom said softly. “Let's all have a lovely celebration dinner. Enjoy your steak, Maxie.”

  “Hey—who let Buster in the house?” Dad shouted.

  I didn't see the big dog in time. All I saw was a blur of dark fur.

  Buster leaped up and grabbed the whole steak off my plate. He gobbled it down in seconds without even chewing.

  “My steak!” I cried. I stared down at the dog, who was licking his chops.

  Dad tossed back his head and hee-hawed. “That dog is crazy for meat!”

  I gazed at my empty plate. My stomach growled. Or was that Buster?

  Mom turned to my brother. “Colin, share your steak with Max,” she said.

  “I can't,” Colin said. “Coach says I need protein.” He sawed off a big chunk of meat, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed it in my face.

  Mom let out a sigh. “Sorry, Max. There's no more steak.” She stood up and walked to the food cabinet. She brought me a bowl and the box of Frosted Flakes. “Here. You like these.”

  So I ate Frosted Flakes while everyone else ate steak.

  “I've already put the house on the market,” Dad said. “Mr. Grimmus, my new boss, is coming all the way from Texas in a few days. He wants to meet you all. I guess he wants to check us out. Make sure I'm right for the job.”

  Mom patted Dad's hand. “Of course you're right for the job,” she said.

  Dad let out a really loud burp.

  Sometimes he and Colin have burping contests. They go for loudness and for length of time. I tried to join in once, but I barfed up my entire dinner.

  We all turned back to the TV. On the news, they were showing the swimming pool accident again. There I was, holding up the mayor's pants while he flopped and floundered in the pool.

  Dad shook his head. “It's a really good thing we're leaving town,” he said. “I've met Mayor Stank. He's not a nice man. Believe me. He holds a grudge.”

  A chill gripped the back of my neck. A grudge?

  I climbed the stairs to my room. I felt strange—excited and worried at the same time. I decided to practice my magic. That always calms me down.

  I picked up the milk bottles I'd been working with. I'm trying to teach myself to juggle full milk bottles. I think that will be a really exciting finish to my act.

  If I drop one, the bottle will shatter and milk will fly all over. It will be messy. But I don't plan to drop any.

  I started practicing with just two bottles. They were heavy and hard to toss and catch.

  “How can you juggle at a time like this?” a voice said. Tara appeared beside me. She grabbed one of the bottles. “We heard everything, Max.”

  Nicky appeared in front of me. “You're moving! What are we going to do?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Beats me.”

  “You can't move. You can't!” Tara cried. She was tossing a milk bottle from hand to hand. I took it away from her.

  “We have to wait in this house for Mom and Dad to come back,” Nicky said, pacing back and forth. “Tara and I can't leave.”

  “You'll be safe here,” I said. “It won't be so bad. Someone else will move in and help you. You'll be okay.”

  “But we need you, Max,” Tara said. “You're the only one who can see and hear us.”

  “You have to stop your dad,” Nicky said. “You can't let him move your family away.”

  “What can I do?” I said. “I can't stop him. We're moving as soon as he sells the house.”

  Nicky and Tara grew silent. I could see they were thinking hard.

  “Hey, you wouldn't try anything—would you?” I asked. “You wouldn't try to stop us from moving!”

  Tara smiled at me. “Of course not, Maxie.”

  9

  ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, I walked to Aaron's house to tell him the bad news. Aaron and I have been friends since we were little kids.

  Even when he was a baby, he was kinda strange. For example, he learned to walk—and then a few months later, he learned to crawl.

  I knew he'd be upset about my family moving away. It was going to be really tough for both of us. For one thing, Aaron had the first season of Buffy, and I had the second season. How would we ever trade episodes?

  Aaron greeted me at the door and led me to his room. He was wearing a blue and red Star Trek cap, sideways; brown shorts; and a T-shirt that said: DON'T WEAR THIS.

  Where does he find these dumb shirts?

  He closed the door behind us. “Shhh.” He put a finger to his lips. “I brought home a jar of honey.”

  I squinted at him. “Honey? Why?”

  “I'm going to pour it into my sister's bed,” he whispered.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Revenge,” he said.

  Aaron spends a big part of every day getting revenge on his six-year-old sister, Kaytlin.

  Aaron giggled. “Tonight she'll climb into bed. She won't see the honey till it's too late. She'll be sticky for the rest of her life.” He giggled some more.

  “I came over to tell you something,” I said.

  “Shhh. Not now,” he whispered. “I'll show you the jar of honey.” He grabbed his backpack and pulled it open.

  His mouth dropped open and his eyes bulged. He let out a groan. “Oh noooo.”

  I peered into the backpack. The lid had come off the jar. The thick, sticky honey had spilled all over Aaron's books and binders.

  He lifted his math book out. It was dripping with a heavy layer of gunk.

  “Ruined,” Aaron moaned. “I'm ruined.” He dropped the soaked textbook into the backpack. “Kaytlin did this!” he cried, shaking a fist. “She did this. This means war!”

  “But Aaron, I need to tell you something,” I said.

  He tossed the backpack down and flew out the door. I followed him to the kitchen.

  “Maybe we have some in this cabinet,” he said. He pulled open the door and began shoving jars and bottles out of his way. “Yes! Here it is!” He held up a jar. “A big jar. We haven't lost. This war is just beginning.”

  “We?”

  He pulled off the lid and tossed it aside. Then he ran past me with the jar raised in front of him. His eyes were wild. His mouth was twisted in an evil grin.

  I followed him down the long hall. He stopped at his sister's room and peeked in. “She's not home,” he said. “Come on. Let's rock and roll.”

  He tiptoed to Kaytlin's dresser and slid open the top drawer He giggled. “It's her underwear drawer. Check it out.”

  I didn't really want to see Kaytlin's underwear. But I didn't have a choice. I peeked into the drawer.

  Her underpants were neatly folded in rows, organized by color.

  “Aaron, I really have to tell you something,” I tried again.

  But he motioned for me to hush. Then he leaned the honey jar against the drawer and tipped it upside down. Slowly, slowly, the thick goop started to pour out onto Kaytlin's underpants.

  Aaron moved the jar slowly back and forth. He had covered two rows of underpants when his mother stepped into the room.

  “Aaron? What on earth are you doing?” she asked.

  Aaron turned around, still holding the jar over the drawer. “Uh…nothing,” he said.

  “You are going to be doing nothing for a long, long time,” she said. “Because you are grounded for life.”

  “Not again,” Aaron said.

  So I had to leave. I didn't have a chance to tell Aaron my sad news. I decided to e-mail him when I got home.

  10

  THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN. I started to walk home from Aaron's house. Fog floated in, making the trees and houses hazy.

  I heard
soft thuds behind me. I realized that someone was following me. Again!

  I turned. I saw him. The boy dressed in black. The boy with the old man's face.

  My heart started to pound. My legs felt shaky and weak. I decided to stop and face him. “Who are you?” I cried. “What do you want?”

  And then once again, he whispered the words: “I'm watching… I'm watching …”

  Huh? Watching? Watching me?

  Why?

  His voice sent a shiver down my back.

  Suddenly, car headlights swept over the ground as an SUV turned the corner. The light poured right through the boy.

  Right through him!

  He took off, bending low to avoid the light.

  And I realized he was a ghost. He had to be a ghost.

  I took a deep breath. No sign of him now. The light had frightened him away. I turned and ran home.

  I found Mom in the kitchen, wiping down the counter. “Mom, someone followed me!” I cried.

  “That's nice, dear,” she said. She didn't look up. She was busy cleaning.

  “No, Mom—listen!” I cried. “It was scary. A boy—he chased me. He had an old man's face. I—”

  Finally, she turned around. “Oh my goodness!” she cried. “Look at you. Max, this won't do! The Marvins will be here any minute.”

  “Who?”

  “Get clean. Get changed. Clean your room. Clean, clean, clean!” she cried.

  I stared at her. “I don't understand. A strange old man chased me. I think he might have been a ghost—”

  “No time for your ghost stories,” Mom said. She started to push me out of the kitchen. “Mrs. Flake will be here soon. She's the real estate agent, Maxie.”

  “Mrs. Flake?”

  “Don't laugh at her name, whatever you do,” Mom warned. “She doesn't know it's a funny name.”

  “But Mom—” I started.

  “She's bringing a nice young couple. The Mar-vins. To look at our house.”

  No way would Mom listen to my story. With a sigh, I heaved myself upstairs. I pulled off my clothes and carried them to the laundry room.