Ghost Detectors Volume 1 (8 page)

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Authors: Dotti Enderle

BOOK: Ghost Detectors Volume 1
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“Uh-hum.” Mail Carrier Nancy cleared her throat. “Here's your mail.”

Malcolm reached for it, but Cocoa was quicker. She snatched it away so fast, Malcolm felt like he was in a time warp.

“Hey!” he cried as Cocoa headed back up the sidewalk. “That's my package!”

“Yeah? You can have it when I get my iPod back!” She gave him a sneer that could only
be seen in a carnival spook house. Even Mail Carrier Nancy cringed.

“Do something,” Malcolm told Dandy.

Dandy stuck his finger back in his ear. “She's your sister.”

Mail Carrier Nancy clutched her cart. “Good luck, boys.” She hurried away.

“I want my package!” Malcolm yelled as he stormed into the house. Dandy followed, doing a double step to catch up.

“You know the deal,” Cocoa said, slamming and locking her bedroom door.

Malcolm wasn't going to take this. He'd dealt with Cocoa way too many times to let this one slide. He'd been waiting more than six weeks for that package! So he did the one thing he knew he had to do. “MOM!”

Malcolm stomped into the kitchen where his mother sat, making a grocery list. Just as he started to protest, she looked up, relief in her eyes.

“Malcolm, would you please get your toy away from Grandma Eunice? She's driving me crazy.”

Grandma Eunice was actually Malcolm's
great-grandmother. She'd been living with them as long as he could remember.

Just as his mother spoke, Grandma Eunice came creaking into the kitchen in her wheelchair. She held the Ecto-Handheld-Automatic-Heat-Sensitive-Laser-Enhanced Specter Detector in her hand. She was swinging it back and forth, aiming it at nothing.

“Where are you, you son of a gun?” she called. She gazed intensely at the air in the room.

“Who are you looking for?” Malcolm asked.

“Who do you think?” she said. “Your great-grandpa Bertram.”

“Grandma Eunice,” Mom sighed. “Grandpa Bertram died in 1977.”

“But he's still haunting me. He used to bring me jellybeans!” She swung around, aiming the ghost detector into the dining room. “Bertram! I want more jellybeans!”

“Malcolm,” Mom said, trying to stay patient, “please take your toy back to the basement.”

Malcolm gestured for Grandma Eunice to give it up. “Hand it over, Grandma. You're not even using it right.”

She gave it to Dandy instead. “Here, Alfred,” she whined. “No one around here plays fair.”

Malcolm knew that Mom wasn't up for another crisis. He'd have to deal with Cocoa himself.

“Come on, Dandy.” The boys headed for Cocoa's bedroom.

“Dude,” Dandy said, “your family is bonkers.”

Malcolm looked at Dandy, who had one finger in his ear and the other up his nose.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Down the hall he could hear Grandma Eunice shout, “Bertram, I want my jellybeans!”

CHAPTER THREE
SUPERWEAPON

M
alcolm handed Cocoa her iPod, and she slapped the package into his chest.

“Now go away!” she screamed, slamming the door. Malcolm was more than happy to leave.

He and Dandy hurried down to his lab in the basement. His heart was pumping faster again. The excitement had returned.

“Do you have any idea how high tech this is?” Malcolm asked Dandy as he ripped the tape off the box.

Dandy didn't answer. He just stood rubbing his belly, waiting to see what was inside.

Even though the box was big, Malcolm could see that it was mostly filled with Bubble Wrap. He began unwrapping it. The unwinding seemed to take forever. Finally, he had it in his hand.
His very own Ecto-Handheld-Automatic-Heat-Sensitive-Laser-Enhanced Ghost Zapper.

“Uh . . . that's it?” Dandy asked. They both stared at the object Malcolm held.

Dandy scratched his nose. “Shouldn't it be bigger?”

Malcolm wondered the same thing. The ad in the back of
Worlds Beyond
magazine made it look like a megamachine. But it looked more like an aerosol can with a trigger. Even the laser was hidden.

“It looks like my mom's hairspray,” Dandy added.

Malcolm reached back into the box and pulled out the instructions. He read them out loud.

“That seems easy enough,” Dandy said. “Are we going on a ghost hunt now?”

Malcolm shrugged. He was truly disappointed. All this time he'd pictured himself lugging a superweapon that would disintegrate any ghost in his path. This thing looked more like something he'd use to spray graffiti on them. But still, it must work. There was only one way to find out.

“Yeah,” Malcolm said, “I think we might need to search out a ghost . . . you know . . . to test it.”

Dandy's face split into a huge grin, but then he tried to look serious. “Where do we start?”

“I think we should just keep the ghost detector on all the time,” Malcolm said. “Let the ghosts find us.”

“Like your great-grandpa?” Dandy asked with a straight face.

“What? No!” Malcolm said. “Grandma Eunice is just being silly.”

“But you never know. After all, I was there too. I know she isn't batty,” Dandy whispered, looking around the room.

Malcolm switched the ghost detector to On. Once it warmed up, he flipped it to Detect. They both looked around, waiting.

Finally Malcolm said, “See? No Grandpa
Bertram. Besides, I think I could sense if my own house was haunted.”

That's when the basement door flew open with a bang. Cocoa came stomping down the stairs. “Hey creep, aren't you forgetting something?”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I forgot to lock the door!”

“You forgot about dogsitting!”

Yikes! Malcolm had been worrying so much about his package arriving that he'd forgotten he'd promised to feed the Millers' dogs while they were on vacation. And they'd left last night.

“Can't you do it?” Malcolm asked Cocoa.

“And have a sneezing fit? You know I'm allergic to dogs.”

Malcolm remembered Cocoa's last sneezing fit. Her nose turned purple and her pea green eye shadow ran down to her cheeks, mixing with her maroon blush. She'd looked like a clown on meltdown. Yuck!

“Fine,” Malcolm said. “I'm going.” He tucked his ghost detector into the waistband of his jeans. Then he and Dandy headed out.

CHAPTER FOUR
DOGSITTING

M
alcolm squinted against the afternoon sun as he and Dandy headed down the sidewalk. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten to feed the dogs.

Dandy was humming. Malcolm had no idea what tune it was though. It sounded like a cross between “Pop Goes the Weasel” and the theme from
Star Trek.

“So we're just going to dump some food in their bowls then go ghost hunting, right?” Dandy asked.

“It's not just feeding them,” Malcolm said. “It's dogsitting. I have to pet them and play with them. You know, make sure they're not lonely.”

Dandy looked at him like it was the first day of school. “How long will that take?”

Malcolm sighed. “I don't know. Until the dogs are tired of us, I guess.”

“And you have to do this for how long?”

“Just for a week.”

Dogsitting wasn't new to Malcolm. He'd taken care of the Millers' dogs last summer too. And they had really cool dogs. Both were bassett hounds. One named Brom, the other named Bowser.

The boys crossed the street and walked around to the Millers' backyard. Malcolm dug a key out from under a rock in the flowerbed, then unlocked the gate. Bowser and Brom were already there waiting. Their barks were like the last dying putts of a lawn mower.

“Hey, fellas!” Malcolm said, rubbing their necks. “Hungry?”

Brom padded over and nudged Dandy. Dandy reached down to pet him. “Wow, he's so . . . saggy.”

Brom bellowed cheerfully, then rolled over for a belly rub.

“Look. He's just like you,” Malcolm said with a grin.

Malcolm found the dog food sealed in a plastic tub on the back porch. Both dogs rushed him—as much as a bassett hound can rush. He scooped out a huge bowlful for each. Dandy petted Bowser as he ate.

Next Malcolm turned on the hose and cleaned out their water trough. He filled it up again and turned to Dandy. “Now the fun part.”

“We play ball with them?” Dandy asked.

“Not yet.” Malcolm grabbed a shovel and a bucket. “First, poop patrol.”

“What?” Dandy rubbed his own belly the same way he'd rubbed Brom's earlier.

“Poop patrol,” Malcolm repeated. “We can't leave it scattered all over the yard.”

“Sure, we can,” Dandy argued.

Malcolm gave him a look. “Come on. I've nearly stepped in it twice already.” Malcolm handed Dandy the bucket. He kept the shovel. “I'll scoop.”

Every time Malcolm dumped his find into the bucket, Dandy said, “Bleck!”

Once the last poop was scooped, Dandy picked up the ball. “Now do we play?”

“Go ahead,” Malcolm told him. “I need to make sure their doghouse is clean.”

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