[Goosebumps 48] - Attack of the Jack-O'-Lanterns Read online

  People oohed and aahed over Tabby’s princess costume. She was the only one in our group who had bothered to put on a decent costume. So I guess she stood out.

  We passed by a lot of other kids as we made our way down the block. Most of them appeared younger than us. One kid was dressed as a milk carton. He even had all the nutritional information printed on one side.

  It took us about half an hour to do both sides of the street. The Willows ended in a cul-de-sac. Kind of a dead end.

  “Where to next?” Tabby asked.

  “Whoa. Wait. One more house,” Walker said. He pointed to a small brick house set back in the trees.

  “I didn’t see that one,” I said. “I guess because it’s the only house that isn’t right on the street.”

  “The lights are on, and they’ve got a pumpkin in the window,” Walker announced. “Let’s check it out.”

  We trooped up to the front stoop and pushed the doorbell. The front door swung open instantly. A small, white-haired woman poked out her head. She squinted through thick eyeglasses at us.

  “Trick or treat!” the four of us chanted.

  “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed. She pressed wrinkled hands against her cheeks. “What wonderful costumes!”

  Huh? Wonderful costumes? I thought. Two bedsheets and a borrowed Superman suit from last year?

  The old woman turned back into the house. “Forrest, come see this!” she called. “You’ve got to see these costumes.”

  I heard a man cough from somewhere deep inside the house.

  “Come in. Please come in,” the old woman pleaded. “I want my husband to see you.” She stepped back to make room for us to enter.

  The four of us hesitated.

  “Come in!” she insisted. “Forrest has to see your costumes. But it’s hard for him to get up. Please!”

  Tabby led the way into the house. We stepped into a tiny, dimly lit living room. A fire blazed in a small brick fireplace against one wall. The room felt like a blast furnace. It had to be five hundred degrees in there!

  The woman shut the front door behind us. “Forrest! Forrest!” she called. She turned to us and smiled. “He’s in the back room. Follow me.”

  She opened the door and let us enter. To my surprise, the back room was enormous.

  And jammed with kids in costumes.

  “Whoa!” I cried out, startled. My eyes quickly swept the room.

  Most of the kids had taken off their masks. Some of them were crying. Some were red-faced and angry. Several kids sat cross-legged on the floor, their expressions glum.

  “What’s going on?” Tabby demanded shrilly. Her eyes bulged wide with fear.

  “What are they all doing here?” Lee asked, swallowing hard.

  A red-faced little man with shaggy white hair came hobbling out from the corner, leaning on a white cane. “I like your costumes,” he said, grinning at us.

  “We—we have to go now,” Tabby stammered.

  We all turned to the door. The old woman had shut it behind her.

  I glanced back at the kids in costumes. There were at least two dozen of them. They all looked so frightened and unhappy.

  “We have to go,” Tabby repeated shrilly.

  “Yeah. Let us out of here,” Lee insisted.

  The old man smiled. The woman stepped up beside him. “You have to stay,” she said. “We like to look at your costumes.”

  “You can’t go,” the man added, leaning heavily on his cane. “We have to look at your costumes.”

  “Huh? What are you saying? How long are you going to keep us here?” Tabby cried.

  “Forever,” the old couple replied in unison.

  10

  That was my daydream.

  I was down by the street in front of my house, waiting for my friends to show up. And daydreaming about Tabby and Lee being trapped by a weird old couple who liked to collect trick-or-treaters and keep them forever.

  Of course, in my daydream, Walker and I sneaked out a side door.

  But Tabby and Lee were caught before they could escape. And they were never seen again.

  Nice daydream, huh?

  I was still picturing the whole thing when Walker, Shane, and Shana finally arrived. And we eagerly trooped inside and up to my room.

  “Drew, why are you grinning like that?” Shana demanded, dropping down onto the edge of my bed.

  “I was just having a very funny daydream,” I told her. “About Tabby and Lee.”

  “What could be funny about those two creeps?” Walker demanded. He picked up a tennis ball from the floor and tossed it to Shane. The two of them started tossing the ball back and forth across my room.

  “It was very funny,” I replied, sitting up and stretching. “Especially the ending.”

  I told them the whole daydream. I could see from the smiles on their faces that they enjoyed it.

  But Shana scolded me. “We don’t have time for daydreams, Drew. We need a real plan. It’s almost Halloween.”

  Walker tossed the tennis ball too high. It smashed into my dresser lamp and knocked it over.

  Shane hurtled toward the lamp and made a diving catch before it hit the floor.

  “Way to go!” Walker cried. “Catch of the Month!” He slapped Shane a high five. He hit Shane so hard, the poor guy almost dropped the lamp.

  “Grrrrrrr!” I growled at Walker and pointed to the desk chair. “Sit down. We have serious thinking to do.”

  “She’s right,” Shana agreed. “We have to scare Tabby and Lee out of their skins this year. We have to pay them back for the last two years. We have to!”

  “So what are we going to do?” Walker demanded, dropping his long, lanky body into the desk chair. “Hide behind some bushes and yell ‘Boo!’?”

  Bad attitude.

  “I’ve been thinking of some really scary things we could do at a party,” I started. “I think—”

  “No party!” Shana interrupted.

  “Right. No party,” her twin agreed. “We worked so hard on last year’s party. And then Tabby and Lee didn’t show up.”

  “Grrrrr.” Just thinking about last year made me growl.

  “Well, if we don’t scare them at a Halloween party, where do we scare them?” Walker asked, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers on the desk.

  “Shane and I have some really good ideas,” Shana said.

  “Yeah. I think you have to listen to Shana and me this year,” Shane chimed in. “We have a really good plan. It will have them shaking for a year. Really!”

  Walker pulled the desk chair closer. Shane sat on the floor beside him. I leaned closer to Shana on the bed.

  Speaking in a low voice just above a whisper, Shana told Walker and me their plan. A very scary plan.

  It gave me a chill just hearing Shana describe it.

  “It’s very simple,” Shana finished. “Very easy to do. And there’s no way it won’t work.”

  “We’ll give Tabby and Lee a Halloween they’ll never forget!” Shane boasted.

  “It’s really mean,” Walker murmured.

  I gazed at the chubby, pink-cheeked twins. They were so cute-looking. So sweet and innocent. But their plan to frighten Tabby and Lee really was truly horrifying!

  “It’s mean,” I agreed. “And it’s cruel. And it’s terribly gross and shocking.” I grinned. “I like it!”

  We all laughed.

  “So we agree?” Shane asked. “We’re doing it?”

  We all agreed. We all solemnly shook hands.

  “Great,” Shana declared. “So Drew, all you have to do is invite them to come trick-or-treating with you. Shane and I will do the rest.”

  “No problem,” I replied, still grinning. “No problem.”

  We all cheered and congratulated each other. We knew this was the year—our year.

  Shana started to say something else—but my mom poked her head into the room.

  “What are you four plotting so seriously?” Mom asked.

  “Uh… nothin
g,” Walker answered quickly.

  “Just making plans for Halloween, Mom,” I told her.

  Mom bit her lower lip. Her expression turned serious. “You know, Drew,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t think I can let you go trick-or-treating this year.”

  11

  “Mom—you have to let me go trick-or-treating! You have to! Or else you’ll spoil all of our plans for revenge!”

  Those words almost burst from my mouth.

  But somehow I held them in.

  I choked back the words and stared hard at her, trying to decide if she was serious.

  She was.

  “Mom—what’s wrong?” I finally cried. “What did I do? Why am I grounded?”

  “Drew, you’re not grounded.” Mom laughed. “I just don’t think trick-or-treating is a good idea this year. Haven’t you seen the news stories? About the people in town who disappeared?”

  “Huh? Disappeared?”

  My mind flashed back to my daydream. I pictured the old couple again, locking kids up in their back room.

  “You mean kids have disappeared?” I asked.

  Mom shook her head. “No. Not kids. Adults. A fourth person was reported missing yesterday. Here. Look.”

  Mom had the newspaper rolled up under her arm. She pulled it out and unrolled it. She held the front page up so we all could see it.

  I could read the bold, black headline from across the room:

  LOCAL MYSTERY: 4 HAVE VANISHED

  I climbed up from the bed and made my way over to Mom. I saw Shane and Shana exchange worried glances. Walker’s expression had turned solemn. He drummed his fingers tensely on the desktop.

  I took the newspaper from Mom and stared at the photos of the four people who had disappeared. Three men and one woman.

  “The police are warning people to be very careful,” Mom said softly.

  Walker walked over and took the newspaper from my hands. He studied the photos for a moment. “Hey—these people are all fat!” he exclaimed.

  Now we all clustered around the paper and stared at the gray photos. Walker was right. All four people were very overweight. The first one, a bald man in a bulging turtleneck sweater, had at least six chins!

  “Weird,” I murmured.

  Shane and Shana had grown strangely silent. I guessed they were frightened.

  “Why would four fat people disappear into thin air?” Walker asked.

  Mom sighed. “That’s what the police would like to know,” she said.

  “But, Mom, if only adults are disappearing, why can’t I go trick-or-treating?” I asked.

  “Please let Drew go,” Shana pleaded. “It’s our last year to go out on Halloween night.”

  “No. I don’t think so,” Mom replied, biting her bottom lip again.

  “But we’ll be really really really careful!” I promised her.

  “I don’t think so,” Mom repeated. “I don’t think so.”

  Once again, Halloween was completely ruined.

  12

  But then Dad thought maybe trick-or-treating would be okay.

  It was two days later. He and Mom had been discussing it nonstop.

  “You can go out if you go in a group,” Dad said. “Stay in the neighborhood. And don’t wander away from the others. Okay, Elf?”

  “Thanks, Dad!” I cried. I was so happy, I didn’t remind him to stop calling me Elf! Instead, I surprised him with a big hug.

  “Are you sure about this?” Mom asked.

  “Of course he is!” I cried.

  No way was I going to let them change their minds. I was already halfway to the phone to tell Walker that our plan was back on!

  “There will be a thousand kids trick-or-treating in the neighborhood,” Dad argued. “Besides, Drew and her friends are old enough and smart enough to keep out of trouble.”

  “Thanks, Dad!” I cried again.

  Mom wanted to keep the discussion going. But I ran out of the kitchen and up to my room before she could get a word out.

  I called Walker and told him the good news. He said he would call Shane and Shana and tell them to get ready for trick-or-treat night.

  Everything was set. I had just one little problem left.

  I had to convince Tabby and Lee that they should go trick-or-treating with us.

  I took a deep breath and called Tabby’s house. Her mother said she was over at Lee’s, helping him get his Halloween costume ready.

  So I hurried over to Lee’s house. It was a gray Saturday afternoon. It had rained all morning, and the storm clouds still floated overhead.

  The front lawns shimmered from the clinging rainwater. I jumped over wide puddles on the sidewalk. I wore a heavy gray sweatsuit. But the air felt damp and cold, and I wished I had put on a jacket over it.

  I jogged the last block to Lee’s house, partly to warm up. I stopped to catch my breath on the front stoop. Then I pushed the doorbell.

  A few seconds later, Lee answered the door.

  “Whoa!” I cried out when I saw his costume. He had bobbing antennas on his head. He wore a fuzzy yellow vest, pulled over a black-and-yellow-striped girl’s swimsuit.

  “You—you’re a bee?” I stammered.

  He nodded. “Tabby and I are still working on it. We bought black tights for my legs this morning.”

  “Cool,” I said. He looked really stupid.

  But why should I tell him?

  Tabby greeted me as I stepped into the den. She had opened the package containing the tights and was stretching them out, tugging them hard between her hands.

  “Drew—have you lost weight?” she asked.

  “Excuse me? No.”

  “Oh. I guess you like your sweatsuit baggy like that—huh?”

  She’s so mean.

  She turned her head away. But I saw her snicker to herself. She thinks she’s really funny.

  “Is that your costume?” she asked.

  I decided to ignore her nasty jokes. “No. I’m going to be some kind of superhero, I think,” I told her. “You know. Wear a cape and tights. What are you going to be?”

  “A ballerina,” she replied. She handed the tights to Lee. “Here are your bee legs. Do you have some heavy construction paper?”

  “What for?” Lee asked.

  “We need to make the stinger. You know. To glue to the back of your tights.”

  “No way!” Lee protested. “No stinger. I don’t need a stinger. I’ll only sit on it anyway.”

  I let them argue for a few minutes. I kept out of it.

  Lee finally won. No stinger.

  Tabby pouted for a while and made faces at him. She hates it when she doesn’t get her way. But he’s even more stubborn than she is.

  “Listen, guys,” I started. “Walker and Shane and Shana and I are all going to trick-or-treat together this year.” I took a deep breath, then asked my question. “Want to come with us?”

  “Yeah. Sure,” Lee replied.

  “Okay,” Tabby agreed.

  And that was that.

  The trap was set.

  Tabby and Lee were in for the most frightening Halloween of their lives.

  Unfortunately, we were, too.

  13

  The week dragged by. I counted the hours till Halloween.

  Finally, the big night arrived. I was so nervous, I could barely get my superhero costume together.

  It wasn’t much of a costume. I wore bright blue tights and a blue top. I pulled a pair of red boxer shorts over the tights.

  For my cape, I cut up a red tablecloth we didn’t use anymore and tied it around my shoulders. Then I pulled on a pair of white vinyl boots. I had a red cardboard mask that just covered my eyes.

  “Super Drew!” I proclaimed to the mirror.

  I knew the costume was lame. But I didn’t care. Tonight wasn’t about costumes. It was about terror. It was about scaring two kids to death!

  I grabbed a large brown shopping bag from the closet to use as a trick-or-treat bag. Then I scrambled down
the stairs, hoping to get out of the house before running into my parents. I hoped to avoid a last-minute lecture about how I had to be careful outside.

  No such luck.

  Dad stopped me at the bottom of the stairs. “Wow! Great costume, Elf!” he exclaimed. “What are you supposed to be?”

  “Please don’t call me Elf,” I muttered. I tried to get past him to the front door, but he blocked my way.

  “Just let me take one photo,” he said.

  “I’m kind of late,” I told him. I was supposed to meet Walker on the corner at seven-thirty. It was already a quarter to eight.

  “Be careful out there!” my mother called from the den.

  Dad disappeared to get his camera. I waited at the bottom of the stairs, tapping my hand on the banister.

  “Don’t talk to any strangers!” Mom called.

  Very helpful.

  “Okay. One quick shot,” Dad said, returning with his camera raised to his eye. “Stand against the door. You look great, Drew. Are you Wonder Woman or something?”

  “Just a superhero,” I mumbled. “I’ve really got to go, Dad.”

  He steadied the camera over his eye. “How about a smile?”

  I gave him a toothy grin.

  He clicked the shutter.

  “Oh. Wait. Did it flash?” he asked. “I don’t think I had the flash on.” He examined the camera.

  “Dad—” I started. I thought about Walker, standing by himself on the corner. Walker hated to wait. I knew how tense he’d be.

  As tense as me.

  “Dad, I’ve got to meet my friends.”

  “If you see anyone suspicious, run away!” Mom called from the den.

  “Let’s try again, Elf.” Dad raised the camera again. “Smile.”

  He clicked the shutter. No flash.

  “Whoa—” He checked the camera again.

  “Dad, please—” I begged.

  “Oh, wow,” he murmured. “Would you believe it? No film.” He shook his head. “I thought I had film in here. I’ll go upstairs and get a roll. It will only take a second.”

  “Dad—!” I screamed.