Have You Met My Ghoulfriend? (2 page)

“No—!”
I protested. “No way!”

The pain started slowly, just a pinch at first. Then the pinch became a stab. And the pain washed over me like a
thousand
stab wounds.

I opened my mouth in a long howl as I realized the wasp had stung me. I shut my eyes tight and pressed my hands against my head as wave after wave of pain rolled over me. It felt as if my
brain
was on fire!

The wasp flew out of my ear and fluttered above my head. I raised my hand to my ear—but quickly pulled it away. The pain was too sharp. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't hear. Carefully, I raised my hand to my ear again and realized it was swelling, swelling fast, tingling and throbbing with pain.

On my knees in the damp grass, I held my swelling ear—and stared at the wasp as it started to grow. As big as a squirrel … and then as big as Buster, my dog. The wasp made gross squeaking and groaning sounds as it expanded, giant wings raised behind its swollen body.

And then with a loud
pop,
the wasp exploded. Wings and body parts and spindly legs flew in all directions. And Phears floated in front of me.

Tall and dark, covered in a long gray cloak, his face hidden behind wisps of black fog, only his empty white eyes showed through the mist. He floated close.

“You seem to have hurt your ear,” he said. “Poor boy.”

“Luckily, I have two of them,” I said, trying to sound brave. But my voice came out high and trembling.

“I had to show you who is boss,” he said, the mist swirling around him now, hiding even his eyes from view.

“You're not my boss,” I whispered. “I know you can hurt me. But I won't work for you. Nicky and Tara are my friends.”

He laughed, an ugly tinkling laugh that sounded like glass shattering. “I see I'm going to have to
break
you, Max,” he boomed. “Maybe
I'm
your friend. Maybe you'll be in so much trouble real soon, you'll need
me
to be your friend.”

A car turned the corner, its headlights on. They washed over Phears, cutting through his blanket of fog.

I saw him flinch and cover his face with his cloak. And I remembered that he was afraid of light. He appeared to shrink until he was half his full height.

The car sped past. He lowered his cloak. “I'll be back soon, Max, and I'm bringing a friend to convince you to help me.”

“A f-friend?” I stammered. “A Berserker Ghoul,” he rasped. “Have you ever met a Berserker Ghoul?”

“No,” I said. “Most of my friends are human.”

My ear throbbed with pain. I touched it carefully. “Owww!” It had swelled to the size of a softball.

“Well, I think my ghoul friend will convince you to cooperate,” Phears said. “I think he will become very close to you.
Very
close.”

I didn't know what he was talking about. But I didn't like the sound of it.

“Take care of that ear, Max,” Phears whispered. “It looks very nasty.”

Phears faded into the fog that swirled around him. I saw a chipmunk scampering toward us. The fog swept over the little creature and disappeared inside it.

Phears, the Animal Traveler. Inside a chipmunk now.

I watched the chipmunk run away. Then, still trembling, I picked up my backpack and started walking slowly to school on shaky legs. No hurry. I was already late. And what excuse could I give Ms. McDonald?

I heard a sound. “Nicky? Tara? Are you here?” I glanced around. “Were you here the whole time? We need to talk.”

No. Not them. Just the flag high on the flagpole, flapping in the wind.

Where were they? They were always appearing and disappearing. They never seemed to be
around when I needed them. And I really needed them now, with Phears sending one of his friends to “break” me.

Yikes!

I felt my ear again. Pain shot through my head. My ear had swelled even bigger. It hurt so much, I couldn't even touch it.

Hope no one notices, I thought.

I pulled open the front door and stepped inside. The hall was empty. The other kids were all in their classrooms.

I headed up the stairs to Ms. McDonald's class on the second floor. I suddenly thought about the journal she was making us keep. How would I write in the journal about my morning?

If I wrote the truth, I knew what Ms. McDonald would do. She would call in my parents for a conference. She'd tell them I had serious mental problems. She'd tell them I was imagining all kinds of frightening things.

And then I knew what Dad would do. Buy me a one-way ticket to the Plover School.

I crept into the classroom. My ear throbbed. I staggered from dizziness. I just wanted to sneak over to my seat in the back row and hide.

But I saw Traci Wayne turn around. She stared at me for a moment. Then her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She pointed at me and let out a long, shrill scream of horror.

I
D
ROPPED
M
Y
B
ACKPACK
and stumbled backward into the wall. I heard loud gasps as everyone turned to see where Traci was pointing.

“Sorry I screamed,” Traci said to Ms. McDonald. “I … I thought it was some kind of creature.”

Ms. McDonald frowned at me. “Max, please remove that huge bubblegum bubble from the side of your head. It isn't funny.”

“It's not bubblegum,” I said. “It's my ear.”

Ms. McDonald put down the chalk and started walking toward me. “Max, why is your ear the size of a soccer ball?”

Because a terrifying ghost inside a wasp flew deep into my ear and stung me?

“A … a wasp stung me,” I said. I felt my ear. A stab of pain ran through my whole body. My knees buckled. I nearly collapsed to the floor. The ear was nearly as big as my head!

No wonder Traci Wayne screamed. No wonder she thought I was a monster.

Ms. McDonald came close and lowered her head to examine my ear. She raised her hand to touch it but changed her mind. “You'd better see the nurse,” she said, pushing me toward the door. “That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. Just what you want to hear your teacher say to you, right?

I slunk down the hall to the nurse's office. After Mrs. Wilpon, the nurse, got through gasping and gagging, she put an ice bag on it. I sat there with the ice bag for the rest of the morning. After that, the ear shrank down to the size of a lemon. Not bad.

I thanked Mrs. Wilpon and headed back to class. I thought the worst part of my day was over.

Was I wrong!

I
RAN INTO
T
RACI
W
AYNE
in the lunchroom. Traci is blond and pretty, with olive-colored eyes and a great smile. She's very nice but she doesn't talk to me often. You see, I'm definitely not in her crowd.

She hangs with the cool crowd. And I'm in the crowd known as “Do
you
go to this school?”

I'm sure Traci thinks of me as a different species. You know. Like a zoo animal you want to stare at for a while but you don't want to get too close to. Because you might catch germs or something.

I don't know if I'm in love with Traci or have a crush on her or what. But every time I see her, my cheeks turn bright red, I have trouble breathing, and my tongue twists up like a knot in my mouth.

Traci wore a red T-shirt and a short plaid pleated skirt over red tights. A salad and a bowl of noodle soup sat on the lunch tray she was holding.

“Hi,” I said, feeling my cheeks start to glow.

“Max, no offense. But please go away,” Traci said. “You'll spoil my lunch.”

“But, Traci—”

“I can't stop thinking about your ear,” she said, making a disgusted face. “I kept gagging all through Spanish class.”

“Thanks for caring,” I muttered.

“It was totally gross,” she continued, gazing over my shoulder to the table where all the cool kids sit. “Like a totally disgusting horror movie.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. I didn't know what else to say.

“Please tell me it wasn't real. Was it one of your magic tricks?”

Traci helped me out when I did my magic act for the whole school last Halloween. Unfortunately, that evil ghost Phears burst onstage inside a giant cockroach. He terrified everyone and sent them all running out of the auditorium. Traci was horrified by the whole thing. But somehow I convinced her it was all a trick of mine.

“It wasn't a magic trick this time. I was stung by a wasp,” I said.

“Well, you really made me sick,” Traci said. She started toward the table. “I'll probably have nightmares for weeks.”

I chased after her. “Does this mean you're not coming to my birthday party?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Birthday party? When is your birthday?”

“Next April,” I said. “Six months from now. I was only checking. Think you'll come?”

She tossed back her blond hair and laughed.

“Was that a yes or a no?” I called.

But she was already sitting at the table, talking to her friends.

Oh, wow. Bad news for me.

What could I do to change her mind?

More horror to come, friends. I completely forgot it was phys ed day. I skulked into the gym, changed into my gym shorts, and looked for Aaron. But of course he was absent, lucky guy.

The rest of the class was there, including Traci. I could see her pointing at my swollen ear and telling other kids about it. And then I turned and let out an unhappy groan.

The climbing rope.

Oh no. Today was the rope-climbing test.

I staggered back, my heart leaping into my throat. I
hate
the climbing rope. The last time I tried it, I got rope burns all over my body.

I knew I needed to pass the rope-climbing test to pass phys ed. I get all As in everything else. In fact, the kids in my class gave me the nickname Brainimon because I'm so smart.

But my phys ed grade is the only grade my dad cares about. Flunk phys ed and I can say,
Goodbye, Jefferson Elementary—and Hello, Plover School.

How could I climb today? I was still shaky from meeting Phears. And I was afraid my big ear might weigh me down. So I ran over to talk to Coach Freeley before the testing began.

Coach Freeley is built like a tank. He's very short and very wide, with bulging muscles everywhere you can have muscles. He has a broad chest that stretches his T-shirts tight over his perfect abs. He's young and the girls all think he's really cute—I guess because of that big chest and all the muscles, and because of his wavy black hair and white-toothed smile.

He doesn't smile at me much. He tries to help me sometimes. But he knows when it comes to sports, I'm totally lame.

I ran up to him as he was about to blow his whistle to get everyone quiet. “Coach, I can't climb today,” I said breathlessly.

He narrowed his dark eyes at me. “What's your problem?”

“Bad ear,” I said. “I was stung by a wasp.” I turned and showed it to him. It was still the size of a lemon.

“Yuck. That's disgusting,” he said. “Can't you cover it up or something?”

“It really hurts,” I said. “I'd better not climb today.”

He shrugged his big shoulders. “No problem, Max. You can make it up any time you feel like it.”

Any time I feel like it? You mean like,
never
?

I thanked him and trotted off to the bleachers at the side of the gym. I was so happy, I wanted to leap up and pump my fists in the air. I don't have to climb today!

But as I sat down on the bottom bleacher seat, I heard a voice next to me. “Whoa, Max—what are you doing?”

I let out a startled cry as Nicky and Tara appeared at my sides.

“Get up, Max. You've got to do your climbing test,” Nicky said. He pulled me to my feet.

“Let go,” I snapped. “I'm not climbing today. Coach said I don't have to.”

“But
we
say you
do
have to,” Tara said, moving behind me and pushing me toward the other kids.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

“We don't know,” Nicky said. “Sometimes we just disappear. We can't control it.”

“We're new at this ghost thing, remember?” Tara said.

Coach Freeley blew his whistle. Kids stopped talking and fooling around and began lining up in front of the climbing rope. The gym grew quiet except for the scrape of sneakers on the hardwood floor.

“I have to talk to you two,” I whispered.
“Phears stopped me this morning. He wants me to take you to him. If I don't, he says he's going to bring a friend—some kind of ghoul—to
break
me.”

“Don't worry,” Tara said, squeezing my hand. “We'll protect you.”

Nicky's mouth dropped open. He stared at his sister. “Protect him? How?”

“No time for that now,” Tara said, pushing me toward the line of kids. “Now Max has to climb the rope.”

“You can't make me,” I said, trying to get away from them.

“Don't you want to impress Traci?” Tara asked.

“Don't you want to impress your dad?” Nicky added. “You have to climb the rope to get an A.”

“But I
can't
climb the rope!” I whined.

“Hel-
lo
. Of course you can,” Nicky said. “With our help.”

“We'll get you up there. No problem,” Tara said. “Hey, isn't that what we promised you? Didn't we promise to help make you brave and impress your dad, and keep you from that awful boarding school?”

“Come on. Get over there,” Nicky said, helping Tara shove me forward.

“Are there any volunteers to go first?” Coach Freeley called. “Who wants to climb first?”

Tara grabbed my arm and shot it up into the air. Then she waved it frantically.

“Max?” Coach Freeley couldn't hide his surprise.

Everyone turned to stare at me—and my hand waving crazily in the air.

“Max? You changed your mind?” Coach Freeley said. “Okay, dude.” He waved me toward the thick rope. “You're up first. Show 'em how it's done!”

N
ICKY AND
T
ARA GAVE
me a hard shove toward the rope. I pushed back. “I can't climb that. Are you nuts?” I cried.

Coach Freeley stared at me. “Did you just call me nuts?”