Spell of the Screaming Jokers (2 page)

“Not yet.” Frankie darted out from the bushes. He ran for the wheelbarrow and kicked it over. Dark soil spilled out into the weeds.

The back door swung open.

Mrs. Marder burst outside. She raised her broom high in the air. She shook it angrily.

“You'll pay for this!” she screamed. “I'll make you pay! I'll make all of you pay!”

W
e ran from Mrs. Marder's yard as fast as we could.

I could hardly breathe by the time we got to Max's front door.

“You'll pay! You'll all pay!” Mrs. Marder's shrieks rang in my ears. My legs began to tremble.

My hand shook too as I rang Max's doorbell. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

I checked my watch. Oh, great. We ran through that horrible woman's yard—and we were late anyway.

I peered up at Max's house. It was a one-story brick house with freshly painted white shutters. Neat little bushes surrounded it. What a pretty
house, I thought—the opposite of Mrs. Marder's scary house.

A pretty blond woman answered the door. “Hi!” she greeted us. “I'm Mrs. Davidson, Max's mom.”

Mrs. Davidson had cheerful green eyes and a nice smile. Her long blond hair was held loosely in a silver clip. She wore an apple-green top, leggings, and high-top sneakers. Very cool.

She held the door open and we stepped inside.

“I'm Louisa Wong,” Louisa said first.

“Jeff de Winter,” Jeff mumbled.

“I'm Brittany Carson,” I volunteered.

Frankie stepped up last. “Todaro,” he announced, strutting through the door. “Frankie.”

Mrs. Davidson invited us to sit down in the living room. “I told Mr. Emerson I'd call him when you arrived,” she said. “And you're right on time! I'll go call now. Excuse me.”

She walked into the kitchen. I heard her talking on the phone through the closed kitchen door. She was nice to say we'd made it on time!

“It's so kind of you to visit Max!” Mrs. Davidson exclaimed when she came back.

None of us mentioned that we didn't have much choice!

“We moved to Shadyside only last week,” Mrs. Davidson went on. “Max hoped to start seventh grade next week. But—”

“We're in seventh grade too,” Louisa interrupted.

“Well, maybe you can help him catch up when he gets back to school. Max's doctor said he has to stay in bed for three more weeks,” Mrs. Davidson told us. “He's getting over pneumonia, so he has to rest.”

Then she stood up. “Well, let's not keep Max waiting any longer. He's so excited about meeting you.”

The four of us followed her down a long hallway.

At the end of the hallway a door stood halfway open. Mrs. Davidson pushed it open all the way. “Max?” she said. “Some students from Shadyside Middle School are here to meet you.”

We stepped into Max's room. Windows stretched all along one wall. But they didn't let in much light.

A boy sat on a bed at one end of the shadowy room. He looked small for a seventh-grader. He wore white long-sleeved pajamas. He had pale skin. And pale blond hair. He even had pale blue eyes—but they were ringed with dark circles.

Poor kid, I thought. He does look sick!

“Hi, Max!” Louisa said cheerily.

Max nodded hello.

Then there was an awkward silence.

“So—you have a Monopoly board or anything?” Jeff asked Max.

Max shook his head no this time. He sure wasn't making this easy!

“Uh—would you like to talk? Or play a game?” I asked him.

“Cards,” he said in a soft voice. He drew a deck from under his covers.

Cards?
My heart sank. I just couldn't seem to get away from cards!

“Great,” I lied, trying to make my voice cheerful.

“Go on over to the table, kids.” Mrs. Davidson nodded to the end of the room opposite Max's bed.

Max stood up. He walked slowly to the table. “Let's play hearts,” he suggested in a quiet voice.

“Good thinking, Max,” Mrs. Davidson told him. “Five can play that. Do you kids know how?”

We all nodded as we sat down. Max shuffled the deck.

“Now Max will ask someone to cut the cards,” Mrs. Davidson told us. “That's good card manners.”

Max pushed the deck toward Frankie.

“Lift some cards from the top of the deck—as many as you want,” Mrs. Davidson instructed. “Then put the cards from the bottom of the deck on top of them.”

After Frankie cut the cards, Max began to deal. I noticed that he was a serious nail-biter. The tips of his fingers were all ragged and chewed.

“Wait to pick up your cards until they're all dealt,” Mrs. Davidson told us. “That's good card manners too.”

When Max finished dealing, we picked up our hands.

“Have fun, kids!” Mrs. Davidson said, and left the room.

I studied my cards one at a time. Two of clubs. Six of hearts. Three of diamonds. Jack of—

A horrible scream split the air!

I jumped.

Frankie dropped his cards to the floor.

“Frankie!” I exclaimed, startled. “What's wrong?”

Frankie stared, eyes wide open. His jaw dropped.

And he let out the most horrifying scream I'd ever heard.

T
he awful, piercing scream went on and on.

I clapped my hands to my ears. “Frankie!” I cried again. “What's wrong! Tell us—what's wrong!”

Frankie turned to me—and the screaming stopped. Stopped suddenly, as if a knife sliced it off mid-scream. But his mouth still hung open.

Mrs. Davidson ran into Max's room. “What happened?” she cried. “Is someone hurt? Who screamed?”

“Frankie did,” Louisa told her.

“I did not!” Frankie protested.

We all stared at him. “Yes, you did!” Louisa exclaimed. “Your mouth was wide open. We all heard you. Screaming like a maniac.”

“I wasn't screaming,” Frankie said flatly.

“Yeah, right,” I said. “You nearly burst my eardrums. You dropped all your cards—then you started screaming.”

“I don't know what you mean about screaming.” Frankie spoke slowly. “I know I dropped my cards. It was because of—because of the joker.”

Frankie glanced under the table. We all followed his gaze.

There his cards lay—all facedown. All but one. All but the joker.

The joker—it was like no joker I had ever seen.

It had huge round eyes that bulged right out of their sockets. Hideous eyes! I felt as if they could
see
me!

Its bright red lips curved up in a crooked, evil smile.

The joker wore a floppy green cap with bells. In its hand it held a stick. On the top of the stick sat a skull. A skull with eyes that glowed like hot coals!

“Yuck!” Louisa squealed, turning her face away. “It's so ugly!”

I started to turn away too—when the joker's face began to move!

Its eyeballs darted left and right! First it peered at me. Then it glared at Louisa. Then Jeff.

The joker's eyeballs came to rest on Frankie. Its mouth twisted open—in a grin full of yellow, jagged teeth.

I stared in horror. I couldn't speak.

“What's wrong?” Max's mom asked. “What are you looking at?”

At the sound of her voice, the joker's ugly face froze.

Had it really moved?

Or had I imagined it?

I glanced at my friends. Had they seen it?

But they were all staring at
me.
“Brit, what's the matter?” Louisa asked. “You're so pale!”

“The joker . . . ” I began. But then I trailed off. No way. It wasn't possible. I
couldn't
have seen it move!

Could I?

Mrs. Davidson bent and picked up the card. “What a horrible card!” she cried. She gathered up the other cards from the floor.

“Let me have all the cards, kids,” she said. “I'll check to make sure there aren't any more jokers. How in the world did this terrible-looking thing get into the deck in the first place?”

Max only shrugged as he handed his mom his cards. He didn't seem very upset about the joker. Maybe his doctor told him not to get excited—about anything.

But I was plenty excited. My heart was racing!

“That was horrible,” I told Frankie. “That wasn't a regular joker. No wonder you screamed.”

“I told you—I didn't scream,” Frankie said.

“Come on, Frankie,” Jeff said. “Just admit it. We all heard you. I bet the whole neighborhood heard you.”

Frankie glared. “Would you all just—”

“There. I've checked the deck. There aren't any more ugly jokers,” Mrs. Davidson interrupted. She handed the deck of cards to Max. “Remember, it's good card manners to let someone cut the cards, Max.”

Max began shuffling.

“Um . . . you really want to play?” I asked.

Max shrugged. “Why not?”

“Yes, but . . . ” I began. I stopped. With the jokers out of the deck, I guess it was okay to play.

We played hand after hand of hearts. By the time the four of us left Max's house, I saw clubs and diamonds, hearts and spades swimming before my eyes.

And I still saw that ugly joker. Saw its evil grin. Saw it move.

How could a single card be so frightening?

How?

“I
wish we'd left earlier,” Louisa grumbled as we walked along Fear Street in the dark. “I hate this street at night.”

“It seems like the streetlights are always broken here,” I complained. “I can't see a thing!”

“We could always cut through Mrs.
Murder's
yard again,” Frankie suggested.

“No way!” I said. Then I heard something. “Hey, listen. What's that?”

I glanced in the direction of Mrs. Marder's house. But it was too dark to see anything.

“I hear something rattling,” Jeff whispered.

Rattling—that was the sound I heard. Rattling—like someone shaking a can full of pebbles.

“I hear it,” Louisa agreed. “Listen. It's getting louder.”

My eyes searched the shadows along Fear Street.

“Hey!” Frankie yelled suddenly. “Watch it, buddy!”

I whirled around.

I saw Frankie sprawled on the sidewalk. A small figure bent over him. A kid. He must have run into Frankie and knocked him down. Now he said something to Frankie.

“Frankie!” Louisa called. “Are you okay?”

Frankie didn't answer.

The figure straightened up. He wasn't very tall. He wore a green hat with a brim pulled down low over his forehead. I couldn't make out his face under the brim. The only thing I could see clearly was the stick he held in his hand.

I ran toward Frankie—and the shadowy figure shook his stick fiercely. Something rattled inside. He let out a scream—and raced away into the darkness.

“Frankie, are you okay?” I asked. “Who was that?”

“I don't know, some little kid,” Frankie groaned. “Boy, he sure slammed into me hard!” He stood up and rubbed his arm.