Scare School Read online

  Tonya nodded. “The teachers are all terrified of the imp, too. You saw how scared Mr. Kimpall was. He didn’t even want to mention the imp to you.”

  “Why don’t the kids tell their parents about the imp?” I demanded. “If the parents knew—”

  Tonya grabbed my arm. “Don’t say a word to your parents!” she cried. “If the imp finds out about it he’ll go berserk! He’ll go nuts if anyone reveals the secret! No one has ever told. We all keep quiet.”

  Yeah, sure, I thought. Sorry, Tonya, but you’ve gone too far.

  I know why you don’t want me to tell my parents. Because you don’t want to ruin the joke.

  She let out a sob. “I don’t even want to think about what the imp would do to all of us if a kid was stupid enough to tell his parents!”

  She’s a good actress, I thought. But I’m way too smart to believe this stuff.

  The sky turned darker as the clouds thickened. The street became silent. Most kids had left for home. Another strong gust of wind made the bare trees creak.

  “So … the imp is going to challenge me because I’m the new kid?” I asked.

  Tonya chewed her bottom lip. She nodded but didn’t reply.

  “He’s going to give me a really hard time?” I asked.

  Tonya nodded again. “I wanted to tell you all of this earlier. But it isn’t good to talk about it in school. The imp can hear everything you say.”

  She glanced back at the school. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything. You’re supposed to find out by yourself. The imp wouldn’t like it if I helped you.”

  She shuddered again. “It might make him really angry.”

  She really thinks she’s fooling me, I thought.

  Well, I can put on an act too.

  “This whole thing makes me really angry!” I exclaimed. “Why should I be terrified because of a little-green-man running around the school?”

  “Sam, stop—” Tonya warned.

  “I’m starving!” I cried. “I didn’t get to eat my lunch because of that clown!”

  “Sam—!” She clamped a hand over my mouth. “Stopl Don’t let him hear you!”

  “Maybe it’s time someone taught this imp a lesson,” I said. “Maybe I’ll show him he can’t keep pushing kids around!”

  Tonya shrank back, her face tight with fear. “Sam—please!”

  I wanted to burst out laughing. But somehow I kept a straight face.

  Did other kids fall for the little green man joke? Did other kids shake and quake in fear?

  So someone slipped some bugs into my potatoes. That was supposed to make me believe in imps? I didn’t think so.

  “I’m going back into that building to teach the imp who’s boss!” I shouted. “I’m going to pound him. I’m going to waste him!”

  “You—you’re crazy,” Tonya whispered. “Listen to me, Sam.”

  But I pulled away from her and stomped toward the school. Rain pattered the ground. I felt the wet drops on my head and shoulders.

  I turned at the front door and saw that Tonya was still staring after me.

  “Sam—don’t!” she called.

  I gave her a quick wave and stepped into the school.

  I’m just going to get my jacket, I thought. I’m not going to look for a fight with an imaginary creature.

  I tugged off my backpack and carried it in front of me as I made my way down the long corridor to my locker.

  I heard teachers’ voices in a classroom down the hall. Some kind of after-school meeting.

  Two janitors in gray uniforms nodded as they passed by me. One of them pushed a large vacuum cleaner on wheels. The other carried the vacuum cleaner hose, coiled around him like a giant snake.

  I turned the corner—and stopped.

  Halfway down the hall, along the long row of lockers, I could see one locker door standing open.

  The locker at the end.

  Mine?

  I struggled to remember: Did I leave it open?

  No. No way.

  The locker door moved. I heard a scraping sound. A soft thud.

  I could feel my muscles tighten. My breath caught in my throat.

  Someone was in my locker.

  “Who’s there?” I called. “What are you doing?”

  9

  Taking long, rapid strides, I hurried over to the locker.

  Grabbing the side of the door, I tugged it open all the way—and let out a cry of shock when I saw the imp.

  I stared hard at him. No way was he some kind of puppet. Or a kid dressed in a costume. He was definitely an imp!

  The creature had his head down as he bent over, searching the floor of my locker.

  But as I swung the door open, he jumped upright—and spun to face me.

  I stumbled back. And stared at the green creature. His fur-thatched head, his pointed ears fringed with hair, his cold, dark eyes. Human eyes.

  “My jacket—!” I choked out.

  He wrapped my blue denim jacket around his slender shoulders. He was so short—three feet tall at the most—that the jacket dragged on the floor.

  His green lips pulled back in a cold, unfriendly smile. He hopped out of the locker and opened his mouth to hiss at me again.

  But before he could make a sound, I grabbed for my jacket with both hands.

  The imp danced away.

  My hand caught the jacket collar, then slid off.

  “Give me back my jacket!” I screamed.

  “Hee-hee-hee.” The imp let out a high, shrill giggle and danced a little jig. He pulled the jacket open, then closed it tightly around him.

  Teasing me.

  Daring me to come get it.

  His bare feet, fringed with green hair, slapped the hard floor. His dark eyes flashed merrily.

  His grin made me even angrier. “Give it back!” I roared.

  I dove for him. Wrapped my arms around his knees in a perfect football tackle.

  I went down hard. Landed on my chest on the floor.

  “Ooof!” I felt the breath knocked out of me.

  My hands flew up—and the imp jumped away. Free from my grasp, he pulled the jacket around him and started to run.

  “Hee-hee!”

  “No way!” I shouted. I stumbled forward on my knees. Reached out and grabbed for the bottom of the jacket.

  I missed the jacket. But my hand wrapped around something round and firm.

  His tail!

  “YAAAIIII!”

  The creature uttered a shrill yelp as I tightened my hand around his smooth green tail—and pulled.

  He danced and kicked, but I held on.

  “Give me my jacketl Give me my jacket!” My voice came out in a harsh rasp as I struggled to keep my grip on the creature.

  In a rage, he spun around, hissing and coughing.

  He raked the air with long fingernails. Then he shot his hands forward, trying to scratch at my face.

  With a gasp, I ducked away. I had both hands around his tail now. I jerked it hard, up and down. Pulled with all my strength …

  And it tore off in my hands!

  “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” He howled in pain and fury.

  I jumped to my feet and held the long tail up above my head.

  It gave a final snap, as if alive. Then it dangled limply in my hand.

  “Give it! Give it!” the creature screeched in a raspy, hoarse voice. He shot his hand out, trying to grab the tail from me.

  But I spun away, pulling it out of his reach.

  My entire body shuddered. “Give me my jacket, and you can have the tail!” I choked out.

  “No deal! No deal!” the imp rasped. “Give it!”

  He leaped again.

  Again, I jerked the tail away from him.

  Hopping up and down, he let out a furious cry—and spit in my face.

  The hot gob of spit slid down my forehead and burned my eyes.

  “OHH!”

  I opened my mouth in a cry of pain. Reached up to wipe the stinging goo from my eyes—r />
  —and let go of the creature’s tail.

  It bounced between us on the floor.

  We both dove for it at once—and cracked heads. “EEEEEEEEE!” Screeching at the top of his lungs, the imp staggered back.

  My head throbbing, my eyes burning, I grabbed the tail. Shoved it into my open locker. And slammed the door.

  “Now give me my jacket!” I cried.

  The imp stared up at me, his green face twisted in fury.

  “You’ll pay!” he rasped. “You’ll pay with your LIFE!”

  To my surprise, he turned and scooted away. The bottom of my jacket scraped the floor behind him. The sleeves flapped wildly, dangling at his sides.

  I mopped hot saliva from my eyes and face with the sleeve of my T-shirt. My skin itched. My eyes still burned. Tears dripped down my cheeks.

  But no way was I going to let that green creep run off with my good denim jacket.

  Still half blind, I lurched after him.

  I could hear his bare feet slapping the hard floor around the corner.

  Wiping my eyes, I chased him. Made the turn—and stopped.

  I blinked several times, trying to see in the dim hall light.

  Where was the imp?

  Where did he go?

  And then a figure came moving toward me from out of the shadows.

  I took a deep breath. Tensed my body. And prepared to fight.

  10

  I blinked again. It took me a few seconds to realize the figure moving toward me wasn’t the imp.

  I was gazing at a kid I had never seen before. He was moving slowly, hands in the pockets of his straight-legged khakis.

  “Whoa.” Startled, he stopped several feet from me.

  “Where did he go?” I demanded breathlessly. “Did you see him?”

  The kid narrowed his eyes at me. “See who?”

  “The imp!” I cried. “The imp! He ran this way. I heard him! He—he has my jacket!”

  The kid scratched his short brown hair. He had a round face, sort of chubby. His body was sort of round, too. He looked like a teddy bear I had when I was four.

  “I didn’t see him go by,” he said. “I was meeting with Miss Kinley in her room back there.” He pointed down the hall. “I just got out.”

  I stepped past him and jogged to the end of the hall. I looked both ways down the back hall.

  Nothing moving.

  No sign of the creature.

  “I’m Tim Poster,” the kid said. “You’re the new guy, right? I’m in the fifth-grade class next to Mr. Kimpall’s room.”

  “Hi,” I said. I didn’t want to stand there and chat with the kid. I wanted to find the imp and rescue my jacket from the little green thief.

  “You sure you didn’t see him?” I asked.

  Tim shook his head. His face suddenly tightened with fear. “You—you didn’t fight with him—did you?”

  I snickered. “Yeah. I fought with him. I ripped off his tail!”

  Tim stared at me for a long while. Then his round face went wide with horror. “You—you’re kidding, right?” he stammered.

  “No way,” I replied, still struggling to catch my breath. “I tore off his tail and stuffed it in my locker.”

  Tim gasped and shrank back. “NO!”

  Then, to my surprise, he turned and started to run the other way.

  “Stay away from me!” he called back. “Really. Stay away! You’re not safe! You made a horrible mistake. You shouldn’t have made him angry!”

  “Why? What is he going to do to me?” I shouted. Tim kept running. He didn’t answer. He stopped at the end of the hall and glanced back.

  “What’s he going to do?” I shouted. “Tell me!”

  “You’re doomed!” Tim called in a trembling voice. “He won’t let you get away now. He won’t let you survive!”

  “Where is your jacket?” Mom asked.

  I stepped into the kitchen and dropped my backpack on the floor next to the counter. “I—I’ve got to change,” I said, shivering.

  “You’re soaking wet,” Mom groaned. She squeezed my hair. Water poured down my face. “How could you walk home in the rain without your jacket?”

  “It … it was stolen,” I muttered.

  Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

  I couldn’t hold back. I didn’t care about Tonya’s warning. I let the whole story out in one long tidal wave of words.

  “An imp haunts the school. He took my jacket. He … he’s an evil creature. He always picks on the new kids. He made my potatoes swarm with bugs. And. … and. … ”

  “You’re not making any sense,” Mom said. She felt my forehead. “Do you have a temperature?”

  “No, Mom—really,” I insisted. “There’s an imp, and he—”

  “Hey—your father is home,” Mom said, gazing out the kitchen window. “Finish your story when he comes in.”

  Dad burst into the kitchen carrying a large wire cage. He flashed Mom and me a big grin. “It’s show-and-tell time,” he announced. “Sam, I have a great idea for you. You’re going to love this.”

  He tossed his wet raincoat onto a chair. Then he motioned for Mom and me to come close to the cage.

  “How was your first day at Wilton Middle School?” he asked.

  “I was just telling Mom,” I said. “There’s a problem. You see—”

  Dad opened the cage door, reached inside, and pulled out a strange-looking rabbit. The rabbit had beautiful black fur, a tiny pink nose, brown eyes, and drooping ears that were a mile long!

  Dad held it carefully between his hands. “This is an ebony rabbit,” he said softly. “It’s very rare. Have you ever seen fur like that?”

  “It looks like mink. It would make a beautiful coat!” Mom joked.

  Dad is a director of the town zoo. Mom knows that cracking jokes like that makes him crazy. That’s why she does it.

  “We have only two of these rabbits,” Dad said, frowning at her. “They wouldn’t make a very big coat.”

  “Can I pet him?” I asked. Very gently, I rubbed my hand over its soft fur. “Where did you get him, Dad?”

  Dad handed the rabbit to me. “The National Zoo sent us a pair of them,” he said. “I brought it home for you. I thought you might like to take it to school. You know. Show it off. Impress the other kids.”

  I petted the rabbit’s soft black fur. “Huh? Take it to school? I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” Dad asked. “Your new teacher will be impressed. The other kids will like it, too. This is a really valuable rabbit.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re joking—right? Dad, I’m in sixth grade, not kindergarten.”

  “Take it to school tomorrow,” Dad insisted. “You always have trouble meeting new kids, Sam. Showing off the rabbit will help you.”

  “I think it’s a very nice idea,” Mom chimed in.

  “No way,” I said. I handed the ebony rabbit back to Dad. “I’m not a baby. I can’t bring in a bunny for show-and-tell. The kids will think I’m some kind of a geek. Sorry, Dad. But forget about it.”

  “It’s a very rare animal,” Dad argued. “It isn’t babyish, Sam. You’re making a big mistake.”

  Once Dad got an idea in his head, it was impossible to change his mind. He was as stubborn as me. And neither of us would ever back down.

  I let out a sigh. “Listen, Dad, I—I’ve got a big problem at school.”

  Petting the rabbit, he frowned at me. “A problem? On the first day?”

  “Yes. There’s an imp in the school,” I said. “An evil creature. And he—”

  Dad laughed. “Don’t you ever get tired of crazy stories?”

  “Sam, you should take the rabbit to school. Definitely,” Mom said. “It’s better than dreaming up silly stories. And maybe your teacher will give you extra credit in science.”

  “No way!” I shouted. “No way! No way!” I screamed the words all the way up to my room. “No way! No way! No way!”

  Did the ebony rabbit come to sch
ool with me the next day?

  Three guesses.

  And did it turn out to be one of the most horrifying days of my life?

  One guess.

  11

  “It’s called an ebony rabbit,” I said. I held the rabbit up high so everyone in class could see it. “Because of its black fur.”

  “Cool,” Tonya muttered from the first row.

  “It has such long ears,” Mr. Kimpall said. He stood at the side of the room, leaning on a window. “It looks as if it could trip over them!”

  “It came from the National Zoo,” I explained. “My dad used to work at that zoo before we moved here. And he still has friends there who send him animals.”

  “Cool,” someone said from the back of the room. “Does it taste good?”

  Several kids laughed. I could feel myself blushing.

  How did I end up showing the rabbit after all my protests?

  I didn’t bring it to school. My dad did.

  Typical Dad. He has to win every argument.

  He showed up at the classroom door about fifteen minutes after school started. He asked Mr. Kimpall if he could see me. Then he handed me the cage.

  “Dad—please!” I growled through gritted teeth. “Take it back.”

  “Show it to the class. They’ll enjoy it,” Dad said. He turned and headed away. “Take good care of it,” he called. “It’s very valuable.”

  He had a big grin on his face. He was so totally pleased with himself!

  I wanted to heave the cage after him. I was furious. But I couldn’t make a big scene in front of the whole class.

  I was trapped. I had no choice but to show off the rabbit.

  “Can you pick it up by the ears?” Simpson asked.

  A few kids laughed.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “I didn’t ask my dad. Some rabbits can be picked up that way. But I don’t know about this one.”

  “Can I pet it?” Tonya asked.

  Since I was standing right in front of her, I held it out. She rubbed her hand over its back.

  “Can I pet it?” another girl asked.

  “Me, too?” Simpson asked, jumping to his feet.

  “Whoa. Hold your horses,” Mr. Kimpall said, hurrying to the front of the room. “If everyone pets it, it won’t have much of that beautiful fur left—will it?”