When the Ghost Dog Howls Read online

  Mrs. Parker is about six feet tall and very thin. She has blond hair and blue eyes. She looks like a model in some of the magazines my mom reads. She told us she comes from Norway, where just about everyone looks like her.

  Now all of us guys want to move to Norway!

  “Andy, what are you thinking about so intensely?” she asked.

  “Uh … math,” I said.

  She laughed. She has a funny little laugh that sounds like a canary chirping. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because I’m lying?”

  That made her chirp even harder. “We’re having a very interesting assembly this afternoon,” she told me. “Congressman Boltz is going to tell us some fascinating things that have happened to him in Washington.”

  Oh, thrills, I thought. Maybe if I sit in a back row, I can catch up on my sleep.

  “And he’s going to announce the winner of the five-hundred-dollar essay prize.”

  That woke me up. “I could win that,” I said. “I worked really hard on that essay.”

  “Yes, you did,” Mrs. Parker said. “I thought yours was the best, Andy. The best — by far. But I wasn’t one of the judges.”

  I flashed her a smile. “Now I really am thinking of math,” I said. “I’m thinking about the number five hundred!”

  The bell rang. “Good luck,” Mrs. Parker said. She headed to her desk to get ready for class.

  * * *

  All through class, I kept thinking about the five hundred dollars. Thinking about how Mrs. Parker said my essay was the best. By far.

  So … how big a loser am I?

  The biggest loser in school — by far?

  Why did I even think I had a chance?

  I stayed awake all through Congressman Boltz’s talk in the auditorium. He had some pretty funny stories about going to the wrong meetings and getting locked in his office one night.

  He was younger than I thought he’d be. Actually, he was a pretty cool guy.

  And then it came time to announce the big prize winner in the essay contest. I sat up straight in my seat and gripped the chair arms. I held my breath.

  A hush fell over the auditorium. A lot of kids had entered the essay contest. A lot of kids believed they had a chance of winning.

  Jerks. All of us.

  Because, of course, Congressman Boltz leaned into the microphone and announced: “The grand prize winner is sixth-grader … Marnie Myers!”

  Some kids cheered as Marnie jumped up. She acted totally surprised. She screamed and jumped up and down and tore at her hair and even had tears in her eyes.

  I just groaned and slumped down in my seat as low as I could go.

  I covered my face in my hands. I didn’t want to watch her go onstage and collect the big check.

  I never had a chance.

  * * *

  School ended after the assembly. Some kids wanted to hang around the playground and get up a soccer game. But I told them I had to hurry home.

  I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

  I saw Marnie joining the game. I knew she’d suddenly be the best soccer player in school history.

  Another wish … and another wish … and another wish. When I shut my eyes, I could picture the snarling blue hound ripping us both apart … tearing off our arms and legs … snapping and frothing, chewing … chewing … until we were just scraps of meat.

  All because Marnie wouldn’t stop wishing.

  I slumped home, kicking stones and things out of my way.

  Mom and Dad were at work. I was glad. I didn’t want to talk to them, either. Face it. I was in a very bad mood.

  I didn’t know it. I was about to get in an even worse mood.

  I pulled myself up to my bedroom. I was hot and sweaty from the walk home so I tugged off my T-shirt. And grabbed a fresh one from the dresser drawer.

  But before I pulled it on, I caught a glimpse of myself in the dresser mirror.

  And I let out a scream of total shock.

  I leaned over the dresser and brought my face up close to the mirror.

  I was breathing hard, my chest thumping. My breath steamed the glass.

  It had to be a shadow I’d seen. That dark line across my neck.

  I raised my fingers to it.

  No. Not a shadow. It was real.

  A cut in my neck. A dark red line. “A bruise,” I whispered to myself.

  I grabbed the top of the dresser with both hands. And turned my face one way, then the other.

  Yes, that thin line was a bruise. The bruise made when Marnie tried to tug the tooth cord off me. In front of the shoe store.

  She tried to take it away from me. I remembered so clearly. She pulled so hard, the leather dug into my neck.

  The bruise was still there.

  “Marnie LIED!” I screamed. “Marnie LIED!”

  I stood there screaming at my reflection in the dresser mirror.

  She wanted the tooth so badly.

  She said she would do ANYTHING to have the tooth.

  So when I got that shock … when I blacked out … when I was out cold … she TOOK it.

  She put the tooth around her neck. And when I woke up, she made me think I was crazy. She made me think my memory was messed up. She really made me believe that the tooth had been hers the whole time.

  Wow.

  I stared into the mirror at the bruise on my neck.

  Wow. Wow. Wow.

  I knew Marnie wanted the tooth badly. But I didn’t know HOW badly.

  Bad enough to make her own cousin think he was losing his mind!

  And now, here she was, making wish after wish after wish. Acing every quiz and test, winning big bucks in the essay contest. Getting everything she wanted.

  With MY tooth!

  Mine! Mine!

  I couldn’t help it. My anger boiled over. I felt like my head exploded.

  I totally lost it.

  I started pounding the dresser with both fists. Pounding it. Punching it. As if it were Marnie.

  Punching the dresser again and again. Punching till my fists throbbed.

  I stopped when I saw my mom’s reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bulging and her mouth hung wide open.

  Panting hard, my fists aching, I slowly turned to face her.

  “Andy?” she asked, staring hard at me. “Andy? Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not okay,” I gasped. “I have to murder my cousin. I have no choice, Mom. I’m really sorry — but I have to murder my cousin Marnie.”

  “Go ahead. That’s no problem,” Mom said. “I don’t like her, either.”

  That didn’t really happen.

  I didn’t say that, and Mom sure didn’t say that, either.

  I was so angry, so out-of-control, that’s what I wished we had said.

  But, back up. It really went like this:

  MOM: “Andy? What are you doing? Are you okay?”

  ME: “Uh, yeah, Mom. One of the dresser drawers stuck. That’s all.”

  She didn’t move. Just stood there staring at me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

  I could see that she didn’t believe me. But she finally turned and started for the hall. “Don’t beat up your furniture, Andy,” she said from the doorway.

  “No, Mom,” I said softly. “I’ll try to give the dresser a break.”

  She headed downstairs to make dinner.

  I let out a long sigh. My fists ached from pounding my poor dresser.

  I knew who I really wanted to pound.

  I kept picturing Marnie, leaning over me at the mall. Acting so worried after I’d been knocked out. Asking me if I was okay — with my tooth dangling around her neck.

  I sat down in my desk chair. My head spun with plan after plan for revenge.

  I saw myself grabbing the tooth away from Marnie. Then I’d wish that she would turn into a chicken. And there she’d be, all brown and yellow feathers, clucking away, pecking the floor for seed.

  Then maybe
after a few weeks, I’d decide to give her a break and change her back.

  That made me laugh.

  I imagined changing Marnie into all kinds of animals. Maybe a big, fat cow. Then she could stampede through the school, and we’d all get the day off again!

  Not bad.

  But I knew I could do better. If I thought about it long enough, I knew I could plan the perfect revenge.

  I was still plotting and scheming later that night as I climbed into bed — and heard the animal howl outside my window. The revenge plots leaped from my mind. I sat up straight and listened.

  Another howl rose from beneath my window. So close. It could be coming from my room!

  That thought sent a cold shiver down my whole body.

  Did anyone else hear it?

  Once again, I tiptoed to the window. I pulled it open all the way. A cool gust of wind brushed my pajamas.

  The dog howled again.

  Could it be the Blue Kerlew? Was it back for its tooth?

  I gripped the ledge and leaned out the window. I stared down into total darkness. I couldn’t even see the flower bed at the side of the house.

  Another frightening howl.

  And then I saw it. I SAW it!

  And in that instant, I knew what my revenge against Marnie was going to be. I knew the dog would bring me my revenge!

  A few days later, I hurried up to Marnie in the lunchroom at school. “Marnie, I can’t sleep at night because that creepy dog keeps howling outside my window,” I said. “Could you use your tooth for me? Make a wish that the dog would go away?”

  She scrunched up her face. “I’m kind of busy …”

  “Well, could you maybe help me with something else?” I asked.

  She waved to some girls at a table across the lunchroom. She wasn’t even listening to me.

  “I’m building a game-arcade machine for my class project,” I said. “It’s going to be awesome. Just like the game machines they have in arcades.”

  She squinted at me. “So?”

  “I downloaded a ton of old video games. And I have a monitor to use. But I’m having trouble building the box for it. Could you make a wish that I get it done in time?”

  “I don’t think so,” Marnie said. “That really wouldn’t be fair to the other kids — would it?”

  “But —”

  She waved me off and hurried to join her friends.

  I almost tossed my lunch tray at her. That really was the last straw.

  * * *

  Saturday afternoon, I called Marnie. “Can you come over?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. She sounded out of breath. “I just won a tennis tournament. You know. At the indoor courts. It was a long match. It took five sets. I let the other girl win a couple sets. You know. To make it look good.”

  “Wow,” I said. “You really are enjoying that wishing tooth, aren’t you! I guess you’re glad you bought it.”

  “Hel-lo,” Marnie said. “It’s the best thing I ever bought. Too bad that guy Chiller didn’t have one for you, Andy.”

  I balled my hands into tight fists. I wanted to growl like an animal into the phone.

  Instead, I said, “Yeah. Too bad. Listen, Marnie, I need help with my game machine. The one I told you about? Can you come over? All of my friends are busy.”

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

  “I’m building the frame for it. And I can’t do it by myself.”

  “If we finish it, can we play it?” Marnie asked.

  “Yeah. Sure,” I said. “I downloaded all the great old games. Ms. Pac-Man … Frogger … Space Invaders …”

  “Cool.”

  I knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to come over, play my game machine — and beat me at all the games.

  Is there a more competitive person in the world than Marnie?

  I don’t think so.

  Without thinking, I was rubbing the slender bruise on my neck. “So, can you come over and help me?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I’m probably better at building that thing than you. See you after lunch.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Marnie and I were working in my garage.

  First, she had to show off the cool new leather jacket she had wished for and received for free.

  The tooth was around her neck, under her T-shirt. I could see the leather cord.

  Everyone in sixth grade has to build some kind of machine. Last week, I downloaded the video games onto my dad’s old computer. Now the plan was to build a wooden case around the computer to make it look like an arcade game.

  Dad and I bought the lumber we needed. We painted it all bright red and yellow. And Dad helped me saw it into the right shapes.

  Now I just had to fasten the sides and back together. Fit the computer inside so the monitor screen showed in the front. Set up the control pads. And nail on a bottom.

  I had the plans all drawn out. It wasn’t hard. It just took two people.

  Marnie and I carefully fit one of the red side panels to the back. I had a jar of nails ready. I poured some of them onto the garage floor and picked up a hammer.

  “Just hold the two boards like this,” I said. “And I’ll pound in a few nails.”

  Marnie pressed the side and back boards together. “Where does the power cord go?” she asked.

  I pointed. “See that hole in the back panel? It’ll fit through there.”

  “And what about ventilation?” Marnie asked. “Did you leave room for a fan or anything?”

  What a know-it-all! Did she always have to show off?

  “It won’t get too hot,” I said. “I left plenty of air space around the computer.”

  “This is awesome,” Marnie said. “If it works.”

  “It’ll work,” I said. I pounded the first nail. It went in a little crooked. But it went in.

  “I can pound straighter than that,” Marnie said. “Here. Give me the hammer. I’ll do it.”

  Before I could answer, I heard a sound.

  A dog’s howl.

  “Hey!” I let out a cry. I jumped — and kicked over the jar of nails.

  The dog’s howl rose high and shrill, then dropped. It sounded so close — like it was in the driveway.

  I turned to Marnie. “D-did you hear that?” I stammered.

  She didn’t have to answer. I saw the look of fear on her face.

  “Is that the dog you heard before?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I … think so.”

  The dog howled again. The sound echoed off the concrete garage walls.

  Marnie dropped the two boards. They clattered onto the floor in front of her. She took a step back.

  “It sounds … ghostly,” she whispered. “Close and far away at the same time. Not like a real dog.”

  The next howl was even closer. And then I saw the creature’s shadow slide over the driveway by the garage door.

  “Look out.” My voice shook. “Here it comes.”

  Marnie’s eyes grew wide. She took another step back — and stumbled into my dad’s power mower.

  “Ow!” She tumbled into the garage wall, and a garden rake fell off its hook and crashed to the concrete floor.

  I kicked it out of the way. Then I backed up beside Marnie.

  We both watched as the shadow lengthened over the driveway.

  A dark head slid into view.

  Marnie gasped.

  The big front paws moved silently over the ground. The dog lowered its head as it stepped into its own shadow.

  “A hound dog!” I whispered to Marnie. I started to tremble.

  She swallowed. Tried to speak. But no sound came out.

  The dog lumbered into the shade of the garage. Its big dark eyes were wet as it turned its gaze on us. Its long, ragged ears drooped down. Its tongue hung loosely out of one side of its gaping mouth.

  “It’s … so big!” Marnie murmured, finally finding her voice.

  The dog uttered a low growl.

  I g
asped. “Marnie — look at its fur! It’s … BLUE!”

  “It … it can’t be!” she cried. She shuddered. Her teeth were chattering.

  “The B-blue Kerlew Hound,” I stammered.

  Growling softly, it moved toward us, head lowered, wet eyes in a dead stare.

  “It’s messed up,” Marnie whispered. “Its fur is all matted and filthy. It’s got all that dirt stuck to it.”

  “Leaves,” I said. “Sticks and mud and leaves.” I gasped. “Like it came from a graveyard!”

  “Nooooo!” Marnie uttered a frightened cry. I could see her legs trembling. She pressed her back against the garage wall.

  The dog’s tail stood straight out. The frightening creature made a snuffling sound as it moved closer. One slow step at a time.

  “Maybe we can make a run for it,” I whispered. I motioned toward the garage door.

  “I … don’t think so,” Marnie stammered. “It’s so big. How could we get around it? It … it’s not a real dog — right? It’s … back from the dead.”

  I nodded, huddling close to my cousin. “It’s the Blue Kerlew Hound. It’s here. And you know what it came for. It came to take back its tooth!”

  Marnie grabbed my hand. Her hand was cold as ice. “Andy,” she whispered, “it looks so angry. What is it going to do to us?”

  The big dog took another lumbering step toward us. It hunkered in the middle of the garage now, blocking our way to the door.

  “We can call for help,” Marnie whispered. “If we shout, your parents —”

  “They’re not home,” I said.

  She uttered another cry. Her chin was trembling. She had her arms crossed tightly in front of her, like a shield.

  I stared down at the dirt and dead leaves clinging to the creature’s blue fur.

  I took a step forward. I lowered my head toward it.

  “Don’t look at me,” I said to the dog. I pointed to Marnie. “It’s HER tooth!”

  “Andy — what are you doing?” Marnie cried.

  I ignored her and talked to the hound. “It’s Marnie’s tooth. She bought it. She bought it in HorrorLand, and she’s been wearing it ever since.”

  The dog raised its wet eyes to Marnie and uttered a low, menacing growl.

  “Give it to him, Marnie!” I shouted. “Quick! Give him the tooth! Or else he’ll tear you to pieces! Like the sorcerer!”