Read R. L. Stine_Mostly Ghostly 06 Online

Authors: Let's Get This Party Haunted!

Tags: #Children's Parties, #Ghost Stories, #Juvenile Fiction, #Birthdays, #Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Parties, #Horror Stories, #Ghosts, #Horror Tales

R. L. Stine_Mostly Ghostly 06

BOOK: R. L. Stine_Mostly Ghostly 06
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Experience all the chills of the
mostly Ghostly series

Mostly Ghostly #1:
Who Let the Ghosts Out?
Mostly Ghostly #2:
Have You Met My Ghoulfriend?
Mostly Ghostly #3:
One Night in Doom House
Mostly Ghostly #4:
Little Camp of Horrors
Mostly Ghostly #5:
Ghouls Gone Wild
Mostly Ghostly #6:
Let's Get This Party Haunted!

AND COMING SOON:
Mostly Ghostly #7:
Freaks and Shrieks

1

J
UGGLING DUCKPINS IS NOT
as easy as it looks. The duckpins are very heavy on the bottom and light on the top. You have to remember this when you toss them up, and when you catch them.

If you give them the wrong spin, they'll come down bottom first, which is wrong. You need to grab the top of the pin and toss it up again.

I don't have a problem getting the spin right. I have two other problems. The first is that the ceiling in my bedroom is very low. So when I toss duckpins up, sometimes they hit the ceiling and then come crashing down on my head.

The second problem is that my house is haunted. I am haunted by two ghosts —kids about my age —named Nicky and Tara Roland. And believe it or not, I am the only one in my family who can see or hear them.

Why are Nicky and Tara a juggling problem?

I'll tell you.

There I was, practicing my juggling in my room. I always start with two duckpins. To get used to the weight. Then I add a third.

I was working very hard because I wanted to be perfect. See, I was rehearsing for my birthday party. My new friend, Quentin, and I are magicians and jugglers. And we were going to perform at my twelfth birthday party.

All the cool kids from school were coming to my party. I hadn't invited them yet. But I
hoped
they'd all come. I knew they would —
if
I could convince Traci Wayne to come.

Traci is the coolest, hottest girl at Jefferson Elementary. I don't know if I'm in love with her or not. But every time I get in the same room with her, I start panting like a dog, my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and all I can say is “Hunh hunh hunh.”

Is that true love? I'm not sure. But I
was
sure that if Traci agreed to come to my birthday party, all her cool friends would follow her.

When you're twelve, you're almost a teenager. Which means you're not a kid anymore. You're cool, and you have to act cool all the time.

I couldn't wait to be twelve. Because so far, I hadn't been cool at all. I was not in the cool group at school. I was in the group known as Geek Patrol, the bottom of the food chain.

Which is totally unfair. Just because my best friend, Aaron, and I wear
Battlestar Galactica
T-shirts and can recite whole
Buffy
episodes word for word —that doesn't make us geeks!

Being a great magician isn't geeky either. That's what I hoped to prove at my birthday party.

And that's what I was thinking about as I practiced my juggling. I wanted to put on a perfect show to impress Traci and all the other kids.

So I was in my room, tossing up the duckpins, just starting to get the rhythm right. Thinking about Traci Wayne and how I had to invite her ASAP.

And suddenly, all three pins froze in midair.

They stuck up there, about a foot or two above my head, and didn't come down.

Of course I knew why.

“Nicky? Tara? Give me a break,” I said. “I don't have time to mess around. I'm rehearsing.”

They both appeared in front of me. Nicky is eleven years old, two years older than Tara, but they look a lot alike. They're both tall and thin, with straight dark hair and serious dark eyes.

Tara had a floppy red hat pulled down over her hair and red plastic earrings dangling from her ears. She held up two of the duckpins. Nicky had the third one raised high in the air.

“We're not messing around,” Tara said. “We're protesting.”

“Protesting what?” I asked. “Cruelty to duckpins?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Ha, ha. You're funny.”

“We're protesting because you don't spend any time with us anymore,” Nicky said. “You spend all your time with that new kid, Quentin.”

“Give me a break,” I said. “Quentin and I have to practice our act. My birthday is getting closer and closer. And we want to amaze everyone with our juggling and magic.”

“But we're lonely, Max,” Tara started. “And we —”

She stopped because the bedroom door swung open and my mom fluttered into the room.

Mom couldn't see Nicky and Tara. All she could see were the three pins floating in midair. Her eyes bulged nearly out of her head, and she pointed.

“Max!” Mom cried. “What's going
on
?”

2

T
HINK FAST, MAX. THINK FAST!

“They're …uh… duckpins,” I said.

Mom stared at them floating above my head. “So?”

“Well,” I said. “You know. Ducks always fly north in the spring.”

She squinted at me, thinking hard about that.

Nicky and Tara let go of the duckpins and they came crashing down on my feet. “Ow!” I started hopping up and down, waiting for the pain to fade away.

“Your magic tricks are getting really good, Max,” Mom said. “But most jugglers
catch
the pins.”

“I know, Mom,” I said, bending to rub my feet. “I'm working on it.”

She left, looking confused.

Nicky and Tara popped back into view. “Your mom is funny,” Tara said. “She's like a little bird twittering around the house.”

“Why don't
you
go twitter around the house?” I grumbled. “I really want to practice in peace.”

Nicky shook his head. He frowned at me. “You're hurting our feelings, Max.”

Tara put on her pouty face. She crossed her arms in front of her. “I thought we were your best friends.”

“If you two were my friends, you'd leave me alone,” I snapped.

I heard a noise outside. I set the duckpins down and crossed the room to the window. I gazed out to the side of the house. A warm, sunny spring day. A small wooded lot stood next door, just trees and clumps of bushes.

And hiding behind a low evergreen bush, I saw the boy in black.

Was he a boy? Or was he an old man who looked like a boy?

I didn't know.

I only knew that this frightening guy had been following me for weeks. I tried to tell Mom and Dad about him. But they thought I was making up another ghost story.

Maybe the boy in black
was
a ghost.

He usually kept himself hidden. But one day I saw him clearly. And I saw his face change, from a boy's face to an old man's face, then back again.

I still dream about that. It's just too creepy to think about.

And there he was, lurking below, staring up at my window. Why was he following me? What did he want?

I pulled open the bedroom window and stuck my head out. I peered down at him.

He stepped out of the bushes. I couldn't see his face. It was covered in shadows from the trees. I could only see his black shirt, his black pants — and his hand, pointing up at me.

“I'm watching!” he called, in a raspy voice that sounded like dry leaves crackling. “I'm watching you!”

“Go away! Leave me alone!” I wanted to shout, but I suddenly felt too frightened. I backed away from the window and stumbled over the duckpins.

Nicky grabbed my arm and kept me from falling. “What's wrong, Max?” he asked.

“He —he's out there,” I stammered. “The boy in black. I told you about him. He's always out there. Always watching me. A few weeks ago, he told me someone is going to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Tara cried. “He
said
that?”

I nodded.

“He must be crazy,” Nicky said. “Who would want to kill a nice guy like you?”

“Max, you're shaking!” Tara said. “You really are scared, aren't you!”

“Duh. Yeah. It's kinda scary.” An idea flashed
into my mind. I turned to them. “You're my best friends, right?”

“Right,” they both answered.

“So you'll do me a favor?”

“Sure, Max,” Nicky said. “Name it. You want us to help you juggle?”

“No,” I said. “I want you to go out there and find out what he wants.” I glanced at the open window. “Then tell him to stop watching me. Tell him to go away.”

“No problem,” Nicky said.

“He can't hurt us. We're already ghosts!” Tara said.

“We'll take care of that guy,” Nicky said, flashing me two thumbs up.

I watched them float right out the window.

My heart started to pound. Would they be able to get rid of him?

Or did I send my friends out to get hurt?

I moved to the window.

Keeping the front of my body pressed against the wall, I slowly leaned toward the window. I didn't want to look. But I had to. I had to know if my two ghost friends were okay.

I held my breath. I bent my head and started to peek out.

And two strong arms grabbed me roughly from behind.

3

W
ITH A GROAN,
I
twisted around —and stared into the face of my older brother, Colin. Colin, Mr. Good-Looking. Smart, Great Bod, Popular —the Golden Boy. Mr. Perfect.

Except when it comes to me. Then he's not exactly the perfect older brother. Why not? You'll see.…

“Hey, Blubber Butt, what's up?” he said, his perfect teeth flashing in the sunlight as he grinned at me.

“I'm kinda busy,” I said, spinning back to the window. “And don't call me Blubber Butt.”

“That's your real name. Blubber Butt. I saw your birth certificate.”

“You don't
have
a birth certificate,” I said. “You were hatched. From a dodo egg.”

“Good one, Blubber Butt,” he said. He slapped me on the butt —so hard that I went crashing into the wall.

“That's one thing you're getting from me on your birthday,” he said.

My butt really stung. I tried to shake the pain away. “That's a birthday present?” I choked out.

He shook his blond head. “No. That's what I
won't
do on your birthday. I won't slap your butt on your birthday. As a special present.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said.

“And here's something else for your birthday,” Colin said. He pulled back his fist, then gave me a stomach punch that made me double over and drop to my knees.

“Hee heeee heeee.” I made a strange wheezing sound. I figured I'd have to walk around on all fours for the rest of my life.

“You won't be getting that on your birthday either,” Colin said.

Nice guy.

He wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me down in a headlock. Then he dug his knuckles into my head and started rubbing them back and forth until my scalp was raw.

“And as a special treat, I won't be doing that to you on your birthday,” he said.

The top of my head felt soft and mushy, as if a truck had run over it. I knew I wouldn't be able to brush my hair —what was left of it —for weeks!

I was desperate to get to the window and see what was happening outside with Nicky and Tara. But Colin wouldn't let go of me. He was having a nice workout —and showing me what
I
wouldn't
be getting for my birthday at the

same time.

“Colin, please —” I begged.

“For your birthday, I won't pull your nose out like this,” he said. He jammed two fingers up my nostrils and stretched my nose out …stretched it out until I howled in pain.

Finally, Dad poked his head into my room. “Max!” he boomed. “Stop teasing Colin!”

Colin laughed and took his fingers out of my nostrils. My long, limp nose dropped down over my chin.

Colin jumped to his feet and took off after Dad. “I was just talking to Blubber Butt about his birthday presents,” Colin said. “His birthday is going to be
totally
special.”

“If I let him
live
that long!” Dad boomed. They both laughed, and I heard them slapping each other high fives.

Guess which one of us is Dad's favorite?

Well, I didn't have time to worry about that. I pushed my nose back into place. Then I hurried to the window to see what had happened to Nicky and Tara.

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