In that house on Halloween night—especially with Rubin Rubino there. He’ll do everything he can to scare

me. He’ll—”

"But Summer Magee is in our group, too,” Buzzy interrupted.

My mouth dropped open. I had stared so hard at Rubin’s name on our group list, I hadn’t read any of the other names.

“Summer?" My mind began to spin. It was a chance to impress her. To show her how brave I was in

the face of the supernatural. Maybe save her life the way she saved mine.

Whoa. Who was I kidding? The whole idea of spending Halloween night in Marple House terrified

me. But with Summer in our group, I had no choice. I had to show up.

ч

After school the next day, I looked for Buzzy but I couldn’t find him. I took a deep breath, adjusted the

backpack over my coat, stepped out of the school building, and headed toward Rubin Rubino’s house.

Everyone liked Buzzy’s idea about Marple House, so we were meeting at Rubin’s house to make a

plan. As I headed over there, I had a heavy feeling in my stomach, as if I’d swallowed a bowling ball.

It was a sunny afternoon but cold. The nearly bare trees cast long shadows over the sidewalk.

Rubin lives three blocks from school, on the far side of Washington Irving Park. This is the

neighborhood of big, expensive houses with wide front yards and tall hedges.

Walking this way meant that I had to pass Marple House. Now I had two bowling balls in my

stomach. Of course, I stayed on the other side of the street. But even on such a bright, sunlit day, the big

old house hunched in shadow. The shingles were blackened as if they had burned in a fire. Several

windows were missing their glass. The screens over the front porch had been missing for as long as I could

remember.

The air seemed to grow colder as I stopped to stare. I shielded my eyes with one hand and gazed up to

the top of the tall house. A flash of light in an upstairs window caught my eyes.

No! A pale face peering down. Someone in the window. Someone watching me.

Impossible.

I blinked a few times. Looked away. Looked back up.

It was gone.

The sunlight had played a trick on me. My heart was pounding hard. I scolded myself for having too

good an imagination.

It w^just my imagination, I told myself.

The windows were all as dark as the blackened shingles now. I waited a few seconds to catch my

breath. Then I turned and took off. I ran the rest of the way to Rubin’s house, my backpack bouncing hard

on my back.

The face in the window lingered in my mind. No. Not a face. Just a patch of sunlight. That’s all.

Я- Я- *

I ran the whole two blocks to Rubin’s house. It was a huge redbrick house with a wide front yard that

stretched forever. A high evergreen hedge blocked the view of the house from the street.

I started walking up the long gravel driveway that stretched between a gap in the hedge. Up ahead, I

could see Rubin’s four-car garage.

Marple House was big. But this house was like a mansion. It even had two front doors.

I knew his parents were rich. Rubin brags about it a lot. His mother is a chemist. And she got rich by

inventing some new kind of acid.

I rang the brass doorbell on the first front door I came to. After a few seconds, the door swung open,

and a young woman in a gray-and-white maid’s uniform greeted me. “Your friends are all downstairs,”

she said.

She led me to a stairway at the end of a long hall. As I walked, I glimpsed an enormous living room to

the left filled with dark, heavy-looking furniture and a dining room to the right with a crystal chandelier

hanging over a table that appeared to be a mile long.

I heard voices as I made my way down the carpeted stairs. “Hey, Sammy. There you are!” Buzzy cried

as I stepped into a playroom.

I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the bright lights. The walls were striped, yellow and red. The chairs were all crazy bright colors, too. The room looked like it belonged in some kind of carnival.

I saw a foosball table and an air hockey game in the center of the room. Against the wall, Shamequa

Shannon and Todd Garcia were bending over a Simpsons pinball machine, making it clang bing bing bing.

Summer Magee sat on a purple couch, a slice of pizza on a plate in front of her.

Rubin appeared from another room, carrying a handful of Cokes. He set them down on the table

beside the pizza box and grinned at me. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Hey,” I murmured. I’d never been to Rubin’s house. I mean, he wasn’t exactly a friend. And I was

having a lot of trouble taking this room in. It was pretty awesome.

Buzzy opened a can of Coke and gulped it down. "Guess we’re all here,” he told Rubin. He dropped

into a rubbery pink chair.

Rubin tried to push down his hair with both hands. It bounced right back up. He grinned at me again.

“How’s it going, Sammy?”

"Okay,” I murmured. I don’t like it when Rubin pretends to be friendly.

An explosion of sound came from the pinball machine. Shamequa and Todd both cheered and

slapped high fives.

Shamequa is tall and very pretty, with brown skin and straight black hair pulled back in a long

ponytail. She’s very quiet and a little bit shy. She wore a white sweater pulled down over a short black

leather skirt, over black tights.

Todd is the class clown. I mean, he’s always goofing on everything. He has spiky white-blond hair,

weird pale gray eyes, and a scarecrow body. He really looks like a stick drawing, even though he eats more

than anybody.

He’s always tumbling and bouncing off walls and deliberately walking into people. It’s like he never

stops. He just loves cracking everyone up.

Summer Magee turned, seeing me for the first time, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Sammy? I

didn’t think you’d come,” she said.

I walked over to the purple couch. "Hey, I’m into this,” I lied. “We got the best assignment.”

Her eyes studied me. Could she tell I was lying? Could she tell I’d almost chickened out and went

home instead of coming here?

"I didn’t think you liked ghosts and supernatural stuff,” she said.

"Who—me?" My voice cracked. I guess I got excited because Summer actually noticed me. “I'm totally

into science,” I said. “And what we’re going to do ... It’s an awesome science experiment.”

She stared at me.

Why did I always sound so awkward when I talked to her?

I’m totally into science? How could I say such a stupid thing?

“Let’s get started,” Rubin said. "Better grab some pizza. Only three slices left.”

Shamequa opened the box and lifted out a slice. Todd dropped down on the purple couch and sat in

Summer’s lap. She cried out in protest and shoved him off with both hands. He pretended to fall off the

couch, then sat cross-legged on the floor.

Summer rolled her eyes. “Very mature, Todd,” she said. “I mean really.” She shoved the back of his

neck.

Todd didn’t care. He pretty much does whatever he feels like, and he doesn’t care what people think

of him. When we’re in the haunted house, Todd will probably just crack jokes or fall down the stairs to get

laughs or do something nutty, and he’ll scare away the ghosts.

Shamequa is like the opposite of Todd. She hardly ever speaks. When she does talk, she has this tiny

voice that’s no louder than a whisper. She has three little sisters, and sometimes I help her take care of

them after school.

To my surprise, Rubin walked over and took me by the arm. I started to pull back. I knew what he

was planning—to twist my arm and make me scream.

But no. He guided me past the long coffee table to a yellow chair across from Summer and Todd. “I

saved this chair for you, Sammy,” he said. He had pizza sauce on his chin.

I was too surprised to say anything. Why had he saved a chair for me?

I found out as soon as I sat down on it. After a few seconds, I felt something warm soak through my

jeans. Something warm and wet.

"Whoa.” I jumped to my feet. My butt and the back of my jeans were soaked. I rubbed my hand over

the wet spot. It smelled bitter.

“Rubin—what A that?” I cried. "What did you do with me?”

His eyes flashed. “Is it starting to burn? I wanted to test out my mom’s new acid. Count to ten,

Sammy. In ten seconds, your jeans are going to disintegrate. HA-HA-HA. You’ll be naked!”

5

I let out a shriek. “Acid? Really?”

Shamequa and Todd leaped to their feet, their eyes wide with alarm. Summer screamed. "Rubin—you

didn Y!”

Rubin shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Of course not. It’s not acid, Sammy. I was just messing with you.”

“Then ... what Ait?” I realized my legs were trembling. "What Ait?”

Rubin shrugged. "Calm down, okay? My cat had an accident before everyone showed up.”

I shrieked again. "Your what? Your cat peed in the chair?”

He grinned that toothy grin at me. “That’s why I saved that chair for you.”

Summer narrowed her eyes at Rubin. “You have an evil mind,” she said. "That’s sick."

His grin grew wider. “I know.”

"You went too far,” Shamequa scolded him. “You scared poor Sammy to death.”

“No, he didn’t,” I said quickly. “I wasn’t scared at all. Just a little ... surprised.”

"Why are you always picking on Sammy?” Buzzy asked him.

Rubin laughed. “He knows why. Okay, sit down, guys.” He motioned with both hands. "We’ve had

our fun time.”

Fun time? That’s what he calls fun time?

"Let’s get down to business,” Rubin said.

Shamequa and Todd dropped back onto the couch. Standing there in the wet jeans, I didn’t know

what to do or where to go. Awkward. My legs felt sticky. I couldn’t shut out the sharp, sour smell.

What should I do? Just go home?

No. That’s what Rubin wanted. Holding my breath from the sick odor, I sat back down in the chair.

Rubin grabbed the last pizza slice from the box. Then he draped himself over the arm of the red chair

across from me. “It’s your genius idea, Buzzy,” he said. "Why don’t you explain it to everyone.”

Buzzy explained his idea. “We get a bunch of ghost-hunting equipment ... EMF meter, full-spectrum

cam, EVP recorder ... We go to Marple House on Halloween night. We stay there all night collecting proof

that the house is haunted. The next week, we present our report to Miss Flake, and we all get As.”

I felt a chill at the back of my neck. Buzzy made it sound so simple. But he left out one important

detail. We were trying to find a ghost. What if there really was a ghost in Marple House? Ghosts aren’t

always friendly. If ghosts were friendly, there wouldn’t be so many terrifying ghost stories.

I squirmed in the chair, my legs still sticky inside the wet jeans. Was I the only one who thought

about this? I decided not to say anything. I didn’t want to be the first to sound scared.

Todd tilted a Coke can to his mouth and took a long drink. He crushed the can in his hand and heaved

it at Buzzy. “How do we know Marple House is really haunted?” he said. Then he burped loudly for nearly a

minute.

“Everyone knows it’s haunted,” Buzzy said. “I only moved here two years ago, and the first thing I

learned about this town was that Marple House is haunted.”

“It’s haunted by the ghost of a boy, right?” Summer said. "People who live on that block hear him

screaming late at night?”

I hoped no one in the room saw me shiver. If the ghost boy screamed a lot at night, he probably didn’t

want company.

"I heard he was hit by a lightning bolt,” Todd said. “ZZZZZZZAP!” He swung his hand down hard and

smacked the chair arm. "It was a big thunderstorm. The lightning burned him up totally. His family was

away. When they got home, they couldn’t find him. He had completely burned to nothing.”

"No ashes?” Shamequa said.

Todd shook his head. "His ashes burned, too.”

“They never found a trace of him,” Buzzy said. "The family was so heartbroken, they moved to

another town as fast as they could. They didn’t realize they were leaving his ghost behind. The boy’s ghost

has been trapped in the house ever since. And late at night, he screams for his parents ... who never come.”

I made a gulping sound. I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out from my throat.

When I looked up, everyone was staring at me. "Are you too scared to do this?” Rubin asked.

“Scared? No way,” I said. “I think it’s an awesome plan. I love it. It’s going to be the most amazing

Halloween ever. I can’t wait. I’ll go in first if you want me to.”

I gazed at Summer. Was she buying my lies? Did she believe me?

No way I’m going to show up on Halloween night, I told myself. What if the ghost boy wants revenge or

something? What if he locks us in the house and... and...

I didn’t want to think about it. I just knew I would not be joining this group for a night in the

haunted house.

Everyone was still staring at me. Luckily, there was a voice in the stairwell, followed by footsteps,

and they all turned to see who was coming down.

Misty Rogers appeared, breathing hard, her hair wild around her face, her cheeks red. “Sorry I’m late,”

she said, trying to smooth down her tangles of wavy black hair with both hands.

We all laughed. You see, Misty is always late for everything. And she never has a good reason. She just

runs on a slower clock than the rest of the world.

"What did I miss?” she asked, pulling off her coat and tossing it over the air-hockey table. She wore a

red sweatshirt over faded jeans.

"Everything,” Summer told her.

Misty lifted the lid on the empty pizza box and peered inside. “I see I missed the pizza, too.” She

lowered herself to the floor and leaned her back against the coffee table. “I heard we’re going ghost

hunting.”

"We’re going to prove there’s a ghost in Marple House,” Buzzy said. "And we’re all going to get As.”

Misty scrunched up her face. "Ewww. What’s that smell?”

"It’s Sammy,” Rubin said. “He had an accident.”

Misty squinted at me, holding her nose.

"I did not!” I cried. "It was Rubin’s cat!”

"My dad has a lot of professional ghost-detecting equipment I can borrow,” Shamequa said. "I know

he has an EMF meter and a portable motion sensor. And I think he has a remote digital thermometer we

can use to see when the ghost makes the room temperature go down.”

“That’s awesome,” Buzzy said. "Is he really into ghost hunting?”

“He was for about ten minutes,” Shamequa replied. “Then he switched to UFOs. The ghost-hunting

equipment just sits in a closet.”

“Perfect,” Rubin said. “How cool is this? We won’t even have to make our own equipment.”

Everyone started talking at once. They were all totally excited about Buzzy’s haunted house idea. My

mind was spinning. I was trying to decide which excuse I would use to get out of going with them on

Halloween night.

Should I come down with the flu or some mysterious illness? Should I have to visit my cousins in

another city? Should I say my parents needed me to help clean the basement? Which excuse would

everyone believe?

I was still trying out excuses in my mind when the meeting broke up. It was nearly dinnertime. We

all stampeded up the stairs. I couldn’t wait to get home and get out of these smelly cat-рее jeans.

Summer stepped up beside me as I made my way down the gravel driveway to the street. “Rubin is so

mean to you,” she said. “He’s really awful.”

“He was absent the week we had that unit about bullying,” I said. “He thinks it’s still cool.”

I was kind of making a joke, but she didn’t laugh. We stopped at the bottom of the driveway. “Are

you really going to come Halloween night?” she asked. “You know Rubin will probably do something

horrible to scare you to death.”

I shrugged. "I can handle Rubin.”

Her eyes studied me. I stared back at her. “I’ll be there Halloween night,” I said. "No way I’d miss it.

We’ll see who’s brave and who isn’t.”

She nodded. I still couldn’t tell if she believed me or not.

A cold breeze shook the trees. I zipped my coat to the top, then shoved my hands into the pockets.

"Well. Bye,” she said. The longest conversation we’d had in three years.

We headed off in different directions.

That night was when the nightmares began.

6

That night I dreamed I was inside Marple House. I stood in a bare room of dark wood floors and olive-

green walls. No furniture. It was daytime. A slender beam of sunlight washed in through a single dust-

smeared window.

And a boy stood stiffly in front of the window, his face hidden in shadow. I was standing close

enough to reach out and touch him. He took a step out of the shadow, and I could see his empty eye

sockets. His eyes were missing. Under the deep holes in his face, his mouth twisted in a menacing scowl.

I turned away. I couldn’t bear to look at him. Wave after wave of panic rolled down my body. I shut

my eyes and wished myself out of there.

I knew I was dreaming. I struggled to raise myself, to pull myself up from the ugly dream, away from

the boy with no eyes.

But no. When I turned back, I was still in that narrow room, still standing across from the scowling

boy. Trapped in the dream. Unable to escape it.

And then the boy stuck his arms straight out, as if reaching for me. He staggered toward me. Closer

... closer...

I woke up.

I woke up drenched in sweat. I blinked myself awake. Struggled to force the terrifying picture of the eyeless ghost boy from my mind. My hands ached from squeezing the bedsheets so tightly. My throat felt

raw and sore. Had I been screaming?

I stood up and stretched my hands above my head. I took a deep breath.

“Only a dream,” I murmured out loud. “It was only a dream.”

But I knew one thing for sure. I was not going to spend Halloween night in Marple House. No way.

The dream was a warning. And I always listen to warnings.

I dropped back onto the edge of my bed. I knew what I had to do.

I had to tell Mom and Dad about this scheme. I had to tell them the plan to go ghost hunting all night

in that old, abandoned house.

No wythey would ever let me do it.

Too dangerous. Too frightening. My parents know me. They know it wouldn’t be good for me. They

know how much I would hate staying in the house. They know how scared I would be.

I should have realized right from the beginning. My parents would save me. My parents would give

me the excuse I needed not to go through with this horrible plan.

I felt better already. I settled back on my bed. I couldn’t get to sleep, but I didn’t care. My worries were

over.

At breakfast, I told Mom and Dad about the overnight ghost hunt.

“Do you believe they want to stay all night in Marple House?” I said. “No parents. No one there to

watch over us ... All night in that freezing-cold abandoned house. Can you believe that?”

Mom stared across the table at me. Dad lowered his coffee mug. They exchanged glances.

“That’s wonderful!” Mom exclaimed.

A smile spread over Dad’s face. He usually never smiles in the morning. He hates mornings. "Great

idea,” he said.

“I’m proud of you, Sammy,” Mom said. “Proud that you want to do something so brave. We know

how frightened you are at Halloween time. Time to get over those silly fears.”

“Well...” I started.

"Know what?” Dad said, still smiling. "You can take our GoPro camera. Bet you can capture a lot of

ghosts with it. I can’t wait to see what you come back with.”

“Go, Sammy!” Mom chanted. "Go, Sammy! I’m so impressed. A whole new you!”

Oh, wow. I didn’t expect that.

Go, Sammy, Mom said. Go right into that haunted house and stay all night. Go find a terrifying ghost.

Havefun!

Mom and Dad had big smiles on their faces, even though they were sending me to my doom. There

was no way I could i^them to say no. No way I could plead with them to keep me home.

For the next week, I lived in fear. I had terrifying nightmares every night.

But let me tell you the truth ...

The nightmares weren’t half as scary as what happened to me Halloween night in that haunted

house.

ЧАСТЬ ВТОРАЯ НОЧЬ ХЭЛЛОУИНА 7

Halloween was a shivery, windy night, with a low blanket of rain clouds blocking the moonlight. The sky

was an eerie purple, just right for Halloween—or a horror movie. I felt a few cold raindrops on my

forehead as Buzzy and I walked to Marple House.

A group of little kids in mummy and Jedi Knight and princess costumes were running down the

driveway from the Kochman house on the corner. They were laughing and swinging their trick-or-treat

bags as they raced to the next house.

I suddenly had a heavy feeling in my stomach. I knew I was totally jealous of them.

Wouldn’t it be better to have fun on Halloween instead of risking your life searching out the ghost of

a burned-up dead kid inside a cold, damp house?

Buzzy raised his phone to show me a photo of Frizzy, his dog, in some kind of bright-red lobster

costume. “We dress him up every year," Buzzy said. “Look. I think he likes it.”

The dog looked totally humiliated. He could barely raise his head. But I didn’t say that to Buzzy. Why

spoil his fun?

“I promised my mom I’d call every hour on the hour,” Buzzy said. “She said I had to call so she’d know

I’m okay.”

“What if our phones don’t work in that old house?” I said. “There can’t be any Wi-Fi. What if there’s

no cell service, either?”

Buzzy frowned at me. "You are a serious worrier."

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered. “Okay. So I’m a worrier. So what?”

“Sammy, did you ever think that maybe spending the night in a haunted house could be fun?"

“No,” I said. “I never thought it.”

We crossed Mulberry. The trees in the lot across the street were swaying from side to side in the

gusting wind. A soft rain pattered the sidewalk. I pulled up my hood.

“I’ve had nightmares every night about this," I said. “Don’t laugh at me, Buzzy.”

“I wasn’t going to laugh,” he said.

“I’ve had really frightening nightmares,” I confessed. “The kind where you wake up dripping with

sweat and squeezing your pillow.”

“About the Marple House?”

I nodded. “Yes. And about the ghost boy.”

“Sammy, come on.” Buzzy gave me a gentle shove. “Do you really believe he’s in there?”

I stopped. The Marple House came into view, rising black against the strange purple sky. “I... I don’t

know what I believe, Buzzy,” I stammered.

“Just relax. It’s Halloween,” Buzzy said, giving me a push forward. “You’ll be able to tell your

grandchildren you spent Halloween in a real haunted house.”

“Huh?" I stared at him. "Grandchildren? I’m twelve years old. I just want to live till I’m thirteen!”

He laughed.

"A couple weeks ago, something happened to me here,” I said. I pointed to the house. "I was standing

across the street and I... I saw something ... in the house.”

Buzzy squinted at me. “What did you see?”

“A face. I mean, I think I saw a face. A boy’s face. In a window at the top of the house.” I pointed. "Way

up there.”

We walked closer to the house. The swirling wind sent dead, brown leaves dancing around our feet.

The trees began to whisper. A bird cawed. It was as if the whole block had suddenly come alive.

“Sammy, think about it,” Buzzy said. "A ghost in the daytime sticks his head out the window and

watches you?”

“Well, sure. It sounds crazy. But... but...”

"Yes. Crazy,” Buzzy said. "It was one of your dreams. It didn’t happen. You dreamed it.”