The Creepy Sleep-Over (2 page)

TWO

It was Friday morning.

Heavy snow was falling. First storm of the New Year.

Miss Hershey's class was all bunched up. Their teeth chattered as they huddled near the outside door.

Dunkum was glad for his heavy jacket. “Tonight's the sleep-over at Miss Hershey's house,” he said.

“Maybe we'll get snowed in,” Jason said.

Abby grinned. “I wouldn't mind. I heard about Miss Hershey's old house,”
she said. “She has eight cats. And she likes Mozart—played in a minor key. Perfect for a haunted mansion, you know.”

Sounds like a haunted cat shelter,
thought Dunkum.

The first bell rang. Miss Hershey's classroom door swung open. She greeted the students. “Hurry, hurry, children. Come in where it's warm.”

Dunkum liked her cheerful voice. She was saying things his mom might say on a cold day. He watched her smiling face.

She was cool. Really,
really
cool! Miss Hershey couldn't possibly live in a haunted mansion.

Could she?

The teacher wrote the date on the board.
January 19
.

“Today is a famous person's birthday,” she said. “Does anyone know who?”

Abby Hunter raised her hand.

“Yes, Abby?”

“It's Edgar Allen Poe's birthday. He was born in 1809,” Abby recited.

Dunkum's hand shot up.

“Yes, Dunkum?” said Miss Hershey.

“Poe was a
mystery
writer.” Dunkum grinned. He was glad Eric and Jason had filled him in earlier.

Miss Hershey nodded and smiled. “That's right. Poe was born almost two hundred years ago today.”

Dunkum listened as Miss Hershey told about Edgar Allan Poe. “He was an American poet. A short story writer, too,” she said.

Dunkum liked short stories. He'd even written a few himself.

“Poe's works are almost like music,” said Miss Hershey.

Dunkum had never heard such a thing. He'd read tons of books. Lots of them! But he'd never found tunes hidden
in the words or sentences.

He didn't get it. What did Miss Hershey mean?

By recess, the ground was covered white. But the snow had stopped.

Some of the Cul-de-sac Kids made a fort. Abby and Stacy helped pack down the snow.

Dunkum and Jason carried armfuls of white wet stuff.

Eric and Shawn made little cannon-balls out of snow.

Dunkum kept thinking about Miss Hershey's house. “Why does she live in a mansion?” he asked Eric.

“She's weird, that's why,” Eric said.

“How can you say that?” Dunkum replied.

“Well, she lives with a bunch of cats. No husband, no kids,” Jason chimed in. “Isn't that kinda weird?”

“So what? Not everyone gets married,” Eric said.

Dunkum knew that was true. His mother's cousin was almost forty and still single.

Whoosh!
He plopped down a pile of snow near the fort. “Being single's not weird.” Dunkum sighed. “I wanna know why she lives in a mansion.”

“Maybe she's rich,” Abby spoke up.

Stacy shook her head. “I doubt it.”

“How come?” Dunkum asked.

“Teachers don't make much money. Besides, she doesn't dress rich,” Stacy said.

“No diamond rings or bracelets,” added Abby.

Dunkum thought about that. “Miss Hershey dresses real pretty, though.”

“And her hair's always perfect,” Abby said.

“Maybe she gives her money away . . . to poor kids,” Dunkum said.

“Hey!
I'm
poor,” Jason laughed. He twirled his glasses around.

“Grow up,” spouted Dunkum. “You're rich compared to some kids.”

“Yeah, kids in India, for starters!” Abby said.

Dunkum gave Abby a high five.

Jason made a face and scooped up a handful of wet snow.

POW!

He threw the snowball hard.

Dunkum dodged out of the way, laughing.

Br-r-i-i-ing!
The recess bell rang.

“What'll we do about the fort?” Dunkum said. It was only half finished.

“We'll work on it later,” Eric said.

The Cul-de-sac Kids agreed and ran toward the school.

Dunkum didn't line up right away. He checked out the fort. It was really cool. It had a large main entrance, curved like a
cave. There were lookout holes on the top and sides.

Making the fort with his friends gave him a good feeling. Abby would call it double dabble good.

But he didn't feel so great about something else. Miss Hershey's house.

Was it
really
haunted?

THREE

Lunch recess came fast.

The Cul-de-sac Kids crawled around inside the snow fort. “This is better than making a snowman,” Eric said. “And we've made lots of them.”

Dunkum wasn't interested in a snowman. Something else was on his mind: the teacher's cats. “What's with Miss Hershey's cats? Why so many?” he asked.

Abby looked surprised. “She loves them, that's why.”

“But eight cats? C'mon!” Dunkum answered.

“That's way too many,” said Eric.

Jason was nodding his head. “I heard she willed her mansion to them.”

“What's that mean?” Dunkum asked.

Abby spoke up. “When she dies, her cats get the house.”

Dunkum couldn't believe his ears! He'd heard of fat cats, but
rich
cats?

Abby giggled. “They're like her children, I guess.”

Dunkum shook his head. “Aren't
we
her children? Well, you know. . .”

Jason started jigging inside the snow fort. “Mama Hershey. . . Mama Hershey,” he chanted.

The kids laughed, holding their stomaches. “You're crazy, Jason Birchall,” shouted Eric.

Dunkum thought the same thing. Jason
was
a little crazy.

Finally, Stacy told Jason to quit dancing. “It's too crowded in here. Go outside and do your jig.”

But Jason wouldn't listen. He kept it up. “Just wait'll tonight,” he said in a weird voice. “Miss Hershey's house will be dark as midnight. There's no streetlights out there in the country. There'll be spooky music, too.”

Eric joined in. “And don't forget all those cats.” He and Jason were cackling like hens.

“Cats don't scare me,” said Dunkum.

“What about
black
ones?” Jason joked. “How'd ya like a sleep-over with eight black cats?”

Abby put a stop to it. “Nobody knows what color Miss Hershey's cats are. It doesn't really matter anyway.”

“Abby's right,” said Eric. “But what about the bathroom? What color is
that?
”

Eric, Abby, and Stacy started laughing again.

“Hey! What's so funny?” Dunkum asked. “Who says Miss Hershey even
has
a bathroom?”

“Yeah, who says?” Jason said.

Abby waved her hands. “Whoa! Miss Hershey's a human being. People need bathrooms, right?”

Eric's eyes were wide. “But she's our teacher, so that makes her special. And different.”

Jason stopped jigging. “Then maybe she
does
have a bathroom and wears pajamas . . . and takes out the trash.”

“Well, why not?” said Abby.

Dunkum didn't want to hear about Miss Hershey's pj's or her garbage. He wanted to know if her house was haunted. And how she discovered music in Poe's poetry.

Dunkum's mom helped him roll up his sleeping bag. They tied it neatly.

“Don't forget your toothbrush,” his mother said. “And your warmest pj's.”

Dunkum remembered his flashlight.
He wanted to take it along for sure. “Anything else?” he asked.

His mother went down the teacher's checklist. “Let's see.” Her finger slid over the page. “I think everything's packed now.”

“It's just one night. I don't need much,” Dunkum said.

His mother looked over the list again. “What about stuffed animals?” she asked. “It says you may bring two animals each.”

Dunkum wondered about his friends. He'd heard Abby and Stacy talking. They were taking teddy bears. Two of the bears were going dressed as brides.

Dunkum had never seen a teddy bear in a bride's gown.
It's yucky girl stuff
, he thought.

“I'm leaving my stuffed animals home,” he said. Dunkum couldn't imagine Eric taking stuffed animals.

But Jason Birchall? Well, maybe . . .

Lately, Jason had gone pet crazy. He
had a bunch of stuffed animals—snakes, lizards, and raccoons. Jason also had some strange real-life pets. Very strange.

Dunkum didn't want to think about Jason's bullfrog. And especially not Jason's tarantula! Why did people keep so many pets, anyway?

The thought of Miss Hershey's eight cats bugged him, too. But he pushed the pet thoughts aside. Nothing could spoil his reward. He had read twenty-five books and was going to his teacher's house!

Dunkum could almost taste the pizza. And the ice-cream sundaes. It was going to be a sleep-over to remember.