House of a Thousand Screams (3 page)

“Oh, no,” I groaned. Books littered the room. It was a total wreck. How could this happen twice in one day?

Freddy stood and brushed himself off. “On the bright side, at least nothing broke this time.”

At that, one of Mom's special collector's plates tumbled from the wall rack.

I barely managed to leap and catch it before it hit the floor. I was stretched out like a baseball player, Mom's beloved Elvis in Hawaii plate in my hand, when she walked through the door.

Her eyes widened in horror. Her head swiveled slowly, taking it all in. When she got to me, she simply stopped and stared.

“Hi, Mom,” I said with a weak grin.

On the videotape the monster puppet and Uncle Solly were silently juggling books, tossing them back and forth across the stage. Mom sighed.

“Don't you know it takes years of practice to juggle like that?” she said. Bending down, she took the plate from my hand. She returned it to its rack on the wall. “And you certainly don't practice in the den, where you might break my precious Elvis plate. Among other things.”

I rose slowly and glared at the video. Of course, I knew it was ridiculous. But it almost seemed as if the whole thing had been planned. Planned to make Freddy and me look bad.

Mom picked up a couple of the books. “And another thing. Start with two or three objects apiece. Don't just stand across from each other, chucking all the books in the shelves.” She held one up. “Look. The spine on this is ruined.” She glanced at Freddy.
“I'm especially disappointed in you, Freddy. I thought you had more respect for books.”

“Sorry,” he said in a small voice.

I could tell by the glare he gave me that he wanted to tell Mom the truth. But I just shook my head. What good would it do? It was our bad luck that it all happened just when the video got to the part about book juggling.

Mom went to the door, then turned to face us. “You two clean this mess up and try—
try
—to see if you can make it to dinner without destroying any more property.”

“Got it,” I answered, feeling glum.

Mom left and we started cleaning up. After a few minutes Freddy said, “We should tell her.”

“What's the point? She won't believe us,” I argued. “Especially after seeing that act on the tape.”

“Well, then, we'll find a way to
make
her believe us!” Freddy's eyes were scared. “Some of these books are heavy. We could have really been hurt, Jill.”

“But we weren't,” I pointed out. “We don't know what happened, Freddy. Maybe the books just fell out of the shelves.”

“Yeah, right. Books don't fall fifteen feet across a room, stupid.”

I picked up another armload of books. “How do you know there's not a natural cause? Maybe Shadyside is on some kind of what-do-you-call-it—fault line. Maybe it was an earthquake.”

“And maybe it's because we're on Fear Street,” Freddy retorted.

This was getting ridiculous. “Look, Freddy,” I said in my most reasonable voice. “You already expected something scary to happen. You said it yourself this morning. Remember?”

He nodded reluctantly.

“See? That's all it is,” I told him. “We're both nervous and we've made this whole thing into too big a deal.”

Freddy can be stubborn sometimes. “Maybe. But I still think we should tell,” he insisted.

“Come on!” I shoved the last book back into place and faced him. “Can you just picture us telling Mom and Dad about how the books started dancing? Or how they flew off the shelves and tried to bean us? Think about it, Freddy. We'd either get grounded for lying or sent to the loony bin.”

“Okay, okay!” Freddy scowled at me. “We won't say anything. But you better be right about those natural causes, Jill.”

“I am,” I assured him.

He left the den and clattered up to his room. I stared at the bookshelves. I wished I felt as sure of myself as I had sounded. Maybe we did live on a fault line. Or maybe there was some other natural explanation I hadn't thought of.

Or maybe we were in big trouble.

M
y first day at Shadyside Middle School went like a dream. A
bad
dream. By lunch period I was ready to go home and stay there. Maybe forever.

I stood at my locker, trying to ignore the stares and whispers of kids around me. I just
knew
they were talking about me. I'd heard them snickering in first period when I spoke. Everybody thought my Texas twang was funny. Now I was afraid to say anything.

It wasn't that I'd never been the new kid before. I had. But at least that had still been in Texas. At Shadyside I wasn't just new. I was different. I talked different. My clothes were different.

“Hi,” a voice said behind me. I felt myself stiffen.
Oh, no, here it comes,
I thought. I grabbed my history book, closed my locker, and turned to face the music.

“Hi.” I spoke quietly, prepared for teasing.

A blond girl stood watching me, her books held close to her chest. She gave me a friendly smile. “Nervous, huh? I know the feeling. I was new last year. I'm Breanna.”

Shyly, I held out my hand to shake. “I'm Jill. Glad to meet you.”

“Wow, you're so formal!” Breanna giggled. But she did shift her books so she could shake.

“Hey, Breanna. Checking out the new kid?” A boy walked up, smiling. He had longish hair, parted in the middle, and big brown eyes, like a puppy's. He held out his hand to me. “So nice to meet you. Charmed. I'm Bruce Codwallop the Third. Do you have a business card?”

I shook my head, confused. He pumped my hand. Then a laugh exploded out of him.

My cheeks started to burn. “I don't get the joke,” I admitted.

Breanna was laughing too. “Sorry. It's just that we don't shake hands much here. Except with grownups, I mean.”

I wanted to jump in my locker and close the door. “I'm sorry, I didn't know—”

“Don't worry,” Breanna told me. “It's kind of nice. Bobby shouldn't have teased you.”

I frowned. “Bobby?”

The boy grinned at me and asked Breanna, “Did
you tell her all the news yet? How I'm class president, and captain of the football team—”

“In your dreams!” Breanna tossed her head and turned back to me. “Ignore him. He thinks he's funny.”

“I
am
funny,” the boy shot back. “Breanna's just jealous. I'm in your class actually. My name's really Bobby Taylor.”

“Oh, I see. Too bad. I thought Bruce Codwallop suited you better,” I said coolly.

“Scorched!” Breanna declared. She leaned against Bobby and shoved him with her shoulder.

They looked a lot alike, I noticed. “Are you guys related?” I asked.

Breanna nodded. “He's my dorky twin.”

Bobby grinned at me. “We share everything but looks and talent. I got all of them. That's why she gets the big bedroom at home. Mom and Dad feel sorry for her.”

“So, do you think you're going to like it here?” Breanna asked.

“It's all so new.” I shrugged. “I hope so.”

“How do you like Mr. Gerard?” Bobby demanded.

I felt nervous. Actually, the math teacher gave me the willies, but what if everyone else liked him? I finally offered, “I can't tell yet. Why? Is there something wrong with him?”

“I think he's creepy,” Breanna whispered.

“I heard he had a computer chip implanted in his head so he could solve equations faster,” Bobby said. “The guy's very weird.”

Breanna leaned against the locker next to mine. “Ms. Munson teaches art. She's nice, but strict.”

“Likes to give new kids detention,” Bobby put in.

“Shut up, Bobby,” Breanna ordered. Glancing around, she leaned forward. “But then there's Mrs. McCord for science.”

“What's wrong with her?” I asked.

Bobby said in a low, dramatic voice, “She's
mean.
Maybe even a little psycho. She really enjoys dissecting frogs, if you know what I mean. She giggles when she cuts them open, and her eyes sort of shine—”

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. I was trying not to let Bobby creep me out.

“And she likes to pop their legs into her mouth,” he added. “Raw. Slurp!”

I stared at him. I couldn't think of anything smart to say. Instead, I blurted out, “Wow, you're gross!”

“He's not lying,” Breanna assured me. “Well, maybe about eating the frogs . . . but she does seem to get a kick out of killing them.”

My shoulders slumped. Great. A psycho science teacher! “Science is already my worst subject,” I groaned.

“Never mind. You'll be fine. Come on, I'll show you around.” Breanna raised her eyebrows at Bobby. “Don't you have somewhere to go?”

Bobby waved at me and sauntered off, popping the lockers with his knuckles as he went by.

Breanna took me to the lunchroom and introduced me to a couple of her friends. That was a huge relief. I'd been dreading lunch more than anything.

The rest of the day went better, though I still noticed kids whispering and pointing my way. I hated it. I hated feeling different. But at least I'd made a friend. I hoped.

I was thinking about that when I walked into my science class. I was early, since I didn't see Breanna, and I didn't know anyone else to hang around and be late with.

I walked in and saw a woman bent over a lab table. She was staring down at something green. It was a frog, I realized.

She reached down. Picked up the frog. Held it close to her face as if she were inspecting it.

And then she stuffed the whole thing into her mouth!

My books fell out of my hands and thudded to the floor. I screamed.

The woman whirled. The frog's legs dangled from her mouth.

And they were twitching!

The woman gazed at me, wild-eyed. Then—

Slurp!

She sucked the rest of the frog into her mouth!

“O
h,
gross!”
I blurted out. I thought I was going to throw up. I spun and raced for the door.

Then I saw the crowd of kids in the doorway. They were all howling with laughter. Breanna and Bobby were among them.

I stopped cold. It was all a joke!

Still shaking, I turned. The teacher was pulling a rubber frog from her mouth. She winked at me.

“I'm the ‘evil' Mrs. McCord. Hello, Jill, and welcome to Shadyside.” She held the frog in front of her face. “Looks real, doesn't it?”

Kids were filing into the room, taking their desks, still laughing over the joke. Bobby clapped me on the back.

“Sorry,” he said. “We couldn't resist. Mrs. McCord
is the coolest teacher in Shadyside. She loves practical jokes.”

“And they happen to be a Taylor family specialty,” Breanna chimed in. She looked at me with anxious brown eyes. “You aren't mad, are you?”

I managed to give her a grin. I
was
a little angry, but I knew better than to show it. Nobody likes a sorehead.

“Someday, somehow, I'm going to get y'all for this,” I said out loud.

Mrs. McCord heard me. “Gosh, I hope so,” she said. “Life's no fun unless you've got a nice, juicy revenge to look forward to.” She directed me to a seat. “I think you're going to fit in just fine, Jill,” she added with a smile.

Class settled down quickly after that. And I had to admit, Mrs. McCord really was a good teacher. Class was fun and lively, but she never let us stray too far from the subject. I'd always hated science before. But now I found myself drawn in. The way she explained things, it all made sense.

When the bell rang, I threaded my way through clumps of chattering kids to my locker. I made sure I had what I needed for homework, and went outside to find Freddy. The elementary school let out earlier than Shadyside Middle School, but I knew he would be waiting for me. He'd want to tell me about
his
first day.