Be Careful What You Wish For Read online

  Judith stared up at me from the ground, and I guess she got her first wish — because she had the biggest smile on her face!

  BEHIND THE SCREAMS

  BE CAREFUL

  WHAT YOU WISH FOR

  CONTENTS

  About the Author

  Q & A with R.L. Stine

  Make a Wish!

  Fortune-Telling: Tools of the Trade

  Word Search: Sam’s First Wish

  Haunted Sports: Gaming Ghosts

  A Terrifying Peek at

  MY FRIENDS CALL ME MONSTER

  Bonus material

  written and compiled by

  Matthew D. Payne

  About the Author

  R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street, the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.

  Q & A with R.L. Stine

  If you were given three wishes, what would you wish for?

  R.L. Stine (RLS): That’s really hard. The truth is my biggest wish came true: I wanted to be a writer — and I am. But if I do have two wishes left, I’d use one wish to travel back in time. And I’d use the second one to make sure I got back to the present!

  The main character in Be Careful What You Wish For is an enormous klutz on the basketball court. What’s your most embarrassingly klutzy moment?

  RLS: It was just a couple of years ago. I was talking to a big crowd of important TV people and I told a story that I thought was really funny. But no one laughed. That got me so flustered that as I left the stage, I tripped and fell!

  Did you play any sports as a kid?

  RLS: No, I didn’t play sports — unless you count Ping-Pong. But I loved to watch sports — especially football. In Ohio, everyone is crazy about football and I am still nuts about it. Go, Buckeyes!

  Your stories often take place in everyday schools and neighborhoods. How do you keep current on what kids are up to?

  RLS: My readers keep me up-to-date. Kids write to me and send me loads of messages at www.rlstine.com. Thanks, guys.

  There are Goosebumps books, websites, DVDs, and even a video game. Are there any new places where you’d like to see Goosebumps go?

  RLS: I love all the games and movies and DVDs — but most of all I like writing and having kids read my books. It’s a real thrill for me that my books are read all over the world. You know what they call Goosebumps in France? Chair de Poule — that means chicken flesh. Cool, right?

  You’ve introduced readers to many fantastical fiends like the creatures in your latest book, Goosebumps Horrorland #7: My Friends Call Me Monster. Do you ever scare yourself with your creations?

  RLS: I never scare myself — and scary books and movies never scare me. The truth is, scary things make me laugh! I guess that means I’m a little weird, but it’s true.

  To find out R.L. Stine’s favorite photography

  subject, pick up the new collector’s

  edition of SAY CHEESE AND DIE!

  MAKE A WISH!

  Don’t have a crystal ball-carrying woman wandering around your neighborhood forest? Don’t sweat! There are plenty of ways to make wishes without the aid of creepy old ladies. Here are a few:

  THROW A COIN INTO A FOUNTAIN and make a wish! Here’s the idea behind this wishing technique: The spirits who live in the water are more likely to grant your wish if you include a little payment. Seems like nobody does anything for free these days!

  The next time you eat a turkey, CRACK THE WISHBONE with someone else. Whoever ends up with the larger piece will get to make a wish! Too busy to cook an entire turkey? No worries … fake wishbones are now available for mess-free wishing.

  When you see a ONE-EYED CAT, spit on your thumb and then grind your thumb into the palm of your other hand while making a wish. Please make sure you saw a one-eyed cat first. We’d hate for you to go through all that spit-grinding trouble for no reason.

  If you catch a LADYBUG, make a wish and then blow it gently out of the palm of your hand. If you blow too hard, you’ll just make the ladybug angry and she probably won’t grant your wish. And you’ll be light-headed. GENTLE.

  After you spot a SHOOTING STAR, make a wish. But be quick about it — some say finishing your wish before the shooting star disappears increases the chance it will come true.

  On your next birthday, make a silent wish when you BLOW OUT YOUR BIRTHDAY CANDLES. In order for the wish to come true, make sure you don’t say the wish out loud (to anyone!) and blow out all of the candles with one breath.

  BLOWING AWAY AN EYELASH is a simple way to make a wish, if one happens to fall out. Don’t PULL out eyelashes — only ones that fall out naturally have wishing power. Plus, that would really, really HURT!

  The next time all the NUMBERS ON YOUR DIGITAL CLOCK match up (like 11:11), you can make a wish. After you make a wish, don’t look at the numbers until they change, or your wish won’t come true.

  Fortune-Telling: Tools of the Trade

  Nobody is sure where Clarissa, the Crystal Woman, came from. With her Crystal Ball and mysterious, wish-granting ways, she may very well be a fortune-teller! Of course, not everyone who has a crystal ball is a fortune-teller. And there are certainly many more ways to tell a fortune. Here are a few:

  CRYSTAL BALLS are one of the top fortune-telling tools, since they’re mighty handy for “scrying.” SCRYING is the art of fortune-telling that involves staring into an object (usually clear or reflective) to catch images of the future.

  Many objects can be used for scrying. Cultures all over the world use pools of water to scry: from the Zulus of Africa to Polynesians to remote villagers in Siberia. Think of that the next time you go swimming.

  Other, less popular, scrying tools range from the convenient (fingernails) to the dirty (a pool of ink in the palm of the hand) to the disgusting (the liver of an animal). That last method sounds similar to a fortune-telling practice used by the ancient Greeks — ARUSPICY: An animal is sacrificed and its entrails are read to predict the future (ewww).

  THROWING BONES involves throwing bones, shells, and other objects and then making predictions based on where and how all of the objects fall. This is a popular form of fortune-telling in Africa.

  TAROT CARDS actually started as game cards in the fifteenth century. It wasn’t until the 1700s that historians found records of fortune-tellers using the cards for readings.

  PALMISTRY (reading the palm) is a fortune-telling technique used all over the world, from India (where the practice is thought to have started) to China and Europe. The different lines of the palm are read to predict the future. Take a look at your palm right now. See the line that runs from the spot between your thumb and pointing finger that runs all the way down to your wrist? That’s your lifeline! Contrary to popular belief, it’s not the length of the line that predicts how long you’ll live.

  Word Search!

  Can you find all the words from Samantha’s first wish? Refresh your memory by returning to page 31, then grab a pencil and circle each word as you find it. Make sure to look down, across, AND diagonally.

  Haunted Sports: Gaming Ghosts

  Samantha’s performance on the basketball court may have been scary, but much scarier things have happened in the world of sports.

  Many athletes are afraid to grace the cover of Sports Illustrated, worried that they will be hit with the infamous Sports Illustrated Curse. Throughout the magazine’s history, many teams and people who appeared on the cover suddenly had terrible things happen to them — a losing streak, an injury … EVEN DEATH.

  Nationwide Arena in Columbus, OH, is thought to be haunted. It was built on the site of the former Ohio State
Penitentiary, where several prisoners died in a terrible fire. True or not, many Columbus Blue Jackets hockey fans blame the bad performance of their team on paranormal activity!

  In 1999, professional wrestler Owen Hart fell to his death while performing a stunt in Kansas City’s Kemper Arena. It is believed that his ghost still haunts the arena, and there have been many reports of Hart, still in his wrestling costume, being seen in the rafters!

  Baseball stadiums are ghost magnets, with examples of haunted fields found all across the country, from Angel Stadium in California to New York’s Yankee Stadium. When human bones were found during construction of Frontier Field in Rochester, NY, strange things started happening. Paranormal experts were even brought in to investigate!

  Finally, we tip our hats to the athletes who never stop playing! In 1996, pitcher Eddie Plank was heard practicing in his Gettysburg, PA, house … where he died 70 years before!

  Don’t Miss More Unexpected

  Endings in

  #7 MY FRIENDS

  CALL ME MONSTER

  Read on for a peek at the all-new,

  all-terrifying thrill ride from R.L. Stine.

  1

  “Michael, this is crazy,” my friend Daisy Edwards whispered. “We shouldn’t be here.”

  “Too late,” I whispered back. “We’re already here.”

  Daisy was right. Sneaking into our teacher’s house was probably a bad idea.

  But there we were, the three of us — me, Daisy, and our friend DeWayne Walker — standing in Mrs. Hardesty’s kitchen. My eyes darted around, trying to see in the dim light. All the shades were pulled.

  “Weird. She keeps her house as dark as our classroom,” DeWayne said.

  The kitchen smelled of cinnamon. Mrs. Hardesty had a lot of snapshots on her fridge door. I glanced at them quickly. The faces all seemed blurry. An empty egg carton stood open on the sink.

  I led the way into the front room. The shades were down there, too.

  The couch and four chairs all matched. They were black leather. I saw knitting needles sticking out of a ball of wool on a table beside the couch. A tall wooden clock on the mantel ticked loudly.

  “I’m not happy about this,” Daisy whispered. “What if she comes home and finds us? We’re dead!”

  “No worries,” I said. “She’s still at school.”

  “Let’s dump the cat and get out of here,” DeWayne said. He raised the carrier in front of him. I could see the black cat’s blue eyes peering out at me.

  You’re probably wondering why we sneaked into Mrs. Hardesty’s house with a black cat. Well, our plan was simple.

  Mrs. H is very superstitious. So … she comes home. She looks down and sees this black cat rubbing against her ankles … and it totally freaks her mind!

  I wished I could be there when she went nuts. But I planned to be far, far away.

  The cat pawed the front of the carrier and meowed. I think it wanted out.

  “Monster, just open the carrier,” DeWayne said. “Let it go, and we’re outta here.”

  My friends call me Monster.

  It’s kind of a cool nickname. You see, I’m a big dude. I’m twelve, but I look like a high school guy. I’m pretty strong, too.

  That’s a good thing.

  But I guess kids also call me Monster because of my temper. That’s a bad thing.

  My parents say I have a short fuse. That means I explode a lot. But, hey, I’m not angry all the time. Just when someone pushes my buttons.

  Which is why my two friends and I were in Mrs. Hardesty’s house. Our teacher had been pushing my buttons ever since she arrived at Adams Middle School.

  “Let the cat out,” DeWayne said, holding the carrier up to my face.

  “Not here,” I said. “Mrs. H will see it too soon. That’s no fun.”

  “How about the basement?” Daisy said. “Mrs Hardesty opens the basement door, and there’s a black cat at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at her. Can you picture it?”

  “Awesome!” I said. I jabbed my finger into Daisy’s forehead. “I like the way you think.”

  We searched the hall till we found the basement door. I pulled it open, and we stared down into the darkness. I fumbled for the light switch, and a bulb flashed on overhead.

  I led the way down the creaky wooden steps. The cat meowed again. “Be patient,” I said. “You’ll have a nice, new basement to explore. And Mrs. H will take good care of you.”

  We stepped into a short hallway. The air grew cold and damp. The basement was divided into two rooms. Both doors were shut.

  DeWayne set the carrier down on the floor. He bent to open its door.

  That’s when we heard the sound. A heavy thump. From one of the rooms.

  We all froze. DeWayne’s hands shot up, away from the carrier. He stared at me, his mouth open. Daisy took a step back.

  I heard a groan. Another thump.

  My heart did a flip-flop in my chest. “There’s someone down here!” I whispered.

  We didn’t say another word. DeWayne grabbed the carrier by the handle, we spun away from the doors, and took off.

  We scrambled up the stairs. Our sneakers thudded loudly all the way up.

  I was nearly at the top when I heard a metal chiiing. Something hit a stair and bounced down.

  “Something fell out of my pocket!” I cried.

  Was it my cell phone?

  I couldn’t go back for it. We had to get out of there.

  Someone — or something — was coming after us!

  2

  TWO WEEKS EARLIER

  “How many of you have heard of the Loch Ness Monster?” Mrs. Hardesty asked. Several hands went up.

  “Here she goes again,” I whispered to DeWayne. He sat beside me in class.

  DeWayne rolled his eyes. “Always monsters.”

  “The other sixth-grade class is doing the Civil War,” I said. “All we talk about is monsters. How weird is that?”

  DeWayne laughed. He’s a lanky, good-looking dude. He wears low-riding, baggy jeans and long T-shirts with hip-hop singers across the front. He has big brown eyes and keeps his black hair shaved close to his head.

  He’s a good guy, except his laugh is too loud, which gets me in trouble a lot.

  I suddenly realized Mrs. Hardesty had her beady little black eagle eyes on me. “Is something funny, Michael?” she asked.

  I shrugged.

  “Would you like to share it with the whole class?”

  I shrugged again. “Whatever.”

  I should’ve just said sorry or something. Why do I always look for trouble with her?

  Maybe because she’s always on my case? She stared at me with that cold expression, her face frozen like a statue.

  Mrs. Hardesty looks a lot like a bird, with tiny round eyes pushed up against a long beaky nose. She has short, feathery, white-blond hair that puffs up around her pale narrow face.

  “Would you care to tell the class what you think the Loch Ness Monster looks like, Michael?”

  “Well … it looks a lot like DeWayne, except it’s prettier.”

  That got everyone laughing, except for Mrs. Hardesty. She wrinkled her nose and made that sniffing sound she always makes when she’s unhappy about something.

  She held up a large photograph. “This is a photo of the Loch Ness Monster,” she said. She moved it from side to side, but it was really hard to see in the dim light.

  She always keeps it dark in the room. Kids are always stumbling over their backpacks. When we take tests, we have to hold the paper up close to our faces to read it.

  It was a bright, sunny day outside, but the shades were down and the ceiling lights were dim as usual.

  “As you can see, the monster looks a lot like a dinosaur,” Mrs. Hardesty continued. “A lot of people claim this photo is a fake. People don’t want to believe in monsters.”

  I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out my silver dog whistle.

  “But hundreds of people visit the lake
in Scotland every year,” Mrs. H said. “They want to see the monster for themselves.”

  Kids gasped in surprise as one of the window shades shot up with a loud snap. Sunlight poured into the room.

  Mrs. Hardesty shielded her eyes. She edged sideways to the window and tugged the shade back down. The room grew dark again.

  Mrs. Hardesty picked up her lucky rabbit’s foot from the desk. She always squeezes it in her hand when she gets tense. Which means she squeezes it a lot!

  “Many other water monsters have been spotted over the centuries,” she said. “In ancient times, sailors believed in sea serpents. And —”

  SNAP.

  The same window shade zipped back up to the top.

  Mrs. H gasped and dove to the window. She tugged it down and held it there for a few seconds. Then she returned to the front of her desk, rolling the rabbit’s foot in her hand. SNAP.

  The shade flipped back up. Everyone laughed. Sunlight poured over the front of the room.

  I hid the dog whistle under my desk. She hadn’t seen me blow it. She had no idea what a mechanical genius Michael Munroe is.

  Yeah, I’m real good with tech stuff. People don’t expect it, because I’m Monster, the big hulk of a dude who is always getting into trouble.

  But I’ve got a lot of skill with computers and all kinds of tech stuff.

  Before class, I rigged the window shade. I put a tiny receiver on it. The dog whistle sent high-pitched sound waves to the receiver. Sound waves that humans can’t hear. And the sound made the window shade go flying up.

  SNAP.

  I did it again. Just to upset Mrs. H and get everyone laughing. Then I hid the whistle behind my textbook.

  Mrs. Hardesty scratched her head. “Why does that shade keep going up?” she asked.