Karen's Haunted House

by Ann M. Martin

  “Hello,” called Druscilla. She had just gotten out of her grandmother’s car and was running up her walk. She was carrying a bag that said PEMBROKE’S PARTY STORE on it.

  I remembered that I should be nice, even though she might have been haunting our haunted house lately. Maybe if I was friendly, Druscilla would quit making spooky things happen.

  “Hello,” I said. “Were you at Pembroke’s? We must have just missed each other.” I help up my own bag.

  “Yes,” said Druscilla. She sneezed and wiped her nose with a tissue. “Pembroke’s is a neat place. I got everything I need for my Halloween costume.”

  “Oh? What are you going to be?” asked Kristy.

  “Cinderella,” said Druscilla.

  Well, for heaven’s sake.

  “Cinderella!” I cried. “Why are you going to be Cinderella?”

  Druscilla looked at me. “I like Cinderella,” she said. “I have been planning my costume for weeks.”

  “But you cannot be Cinderella!” I said. “I am going to be Cinderella. It was my idea.”

  Druscilla shrugged. “I had the same idea.”

  “There is no reason why you cannot both be Cinderella,” said Kristy.

  “We cannot be the same thing,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “Anyway, you are not blonde. Cinderella was blonde. I say, whoever is naturally blonde should get to be Cinderella.”

  “That is silly,” said Druscilla. “Who said that Cinderella was blonde?”

  I felt as if my eyes were about to pop out of my head. “The movie!” I shrieked. “In the movie, Cinderella is blonde!”

  “Well, I have read other books,” said Druscilla. “And in some of the books, Cinderella has dark hair. Walt Disney did not make up the story of Cinderella.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “I still think you can both be Cinderella,” said Kristy.

  “No, we cannot!” I said. “I was first, Druscilla. You should take back your costume.” I had forgotten all about being nice to the W. I. T.

  “No,” said Druscilla. Her nose twitched, and she sneezed again. “You take yours back if you don’t like it.”

  “I will not!” I said. I stamped my foot. I had planned a gigundoly wonderful costume, and Druscilla was ruining everything. Just like a witch. “And another thing,” I said. “I know you have been playing tricks at our haunted house. You are just a meanie-mo.”

  “Karen!” said Kristy.

  “I have not been playing tricks!” said Druscilla. “I would not go near that haunted house if you paid me.”

  “Sure,” I said sarcastically.

  “You are crazy,” said Druscilla. She wiped her nose again with a tissue and headed up her front steps. “I am going to be Cinderella, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

  She slammed her front door. I stamped my foot again.

  “Now you have done it,” said Kristy. “Karen, you were very rude to Druscilla. Go on inside. I am going to my meeting.”

  “She started it,” I grumbled. I knew that was not true. I also knew that Druscilla was going to ruin my Halloween.

  Really and Truly Haunted

  “Listen to that wind,” said Nancy.

  “It is good weather for decorating our room,” said Ms. Colman.

  Rain splashed against the bedroom windows at the haunted house. It was a dreary, drizzly, autumn Saturday. Ms. Colman was right: It was good weather for decorating our room.

  This morning Hannie and Nancy and I had walked through all the rooms of the haunted house. It was just about the spookiest house I had ever seen. The front yard was full of weeds and tombstones. Someone had put a green skeleton hand in the dirt by one of the tombstones. It looked as if it were reaching up out of the ground. Yuck!

  Inside, the first thing you saw was a coffin propped against the wall. It was partly open. Another skeleton hand stuck out of it. There were spiderwebs everywhere, with big plastic spiders hanging in them. Black rubber rats perched on fireplace mantels. The floors were dusty. Walls were painted black and gray. They were cracked and chipped down to the plaster.

  I had never seen such a scary haunted house. And this was during the daytime.

  Our room upstairs was almost finished. I was taping an old tattered sheet to our worktable. It would be the tablecloth for the skeleton-party refreshments. We had sprinkled it with red and black paint. Since the weather was so icky, many of my classmates had not come to work on the house today. Chris and Ian had been here earlier, but had already gone home. Now it was just the Three Musketeers and Ms. Colman.

  Mrs. Papadakis stuck her head into our room. “Gee, this room looks great, girls.”

  “Thank you, Mommy,” said Hannie.

  “You all have worked really hard,” said Mrs. Papadakis. “I cannot wait to see this room on Halloween night.”

  “It might be too scary,” said Nancy.

  Mrs. Papadakis laughed. “The scarier it is, the more people will like it. Ms. Colman, could you come downstairs for a moment? I’d like to go over some plans with you.”

  “Certainly,” said Ms. Colman. “You girls will be all right up here, won’t you?”

  “Um, sure,” I said. I did not want to look like a baby. As soon as they left, a big streak of lightning lit our room, and thunder shook the house.

  Hannie shivered. “Let’s finish up and get out of here,” she said. “This place is giving me the creeps.”

  “Me too,” said Nancy.

  “Me three,” I said with a grin. Because we are the Three Musketeers — get it?

  We began to put our art supplies away. When I had to put something in the closet, I quickly flung open the door and jumped back. No spiders leaped out at me.

  Ha, Bobby, I thought. I am too smart for you.

  We turned off the light to our room and shut the door behind us. In the hallway, large wispy spiderwebs floated from the light fixtures. A spooky witch peeked out from a doorway. Red lightbulbs glowed overhead.

  Downstairs we heard doors slamming. It could have been Ms. Colman or Mrs. Papadakis. Then the howling started! It was that same creepy howl I heard before: “Awooo, awoooo!” It seemed to be coming from all directions at once. Hannie and Nancy and I grabbed hands.

  When the door beside us flew open, I screamed, “Aiiieeee!”

  “Karen!” said Sam. “What is the matter? Who was howling?”

  Hannie, Nancy, and I were clumped together in the hall, holding tightly to each other.

  “I do not know,” I whispered.

  The eerie howling surrounded us again. “Awooo, awoooo!”

  “Where is Charlie?” I said shakily. I would feel safer if both Sam and Charlie were with us.

  “He went home about ten minutes ago,” said Sam. “I am going to find out who is doing this. Come on, guys.” Sam and several of his classmates trooped down the stairs loudly. The Three Musketeers ran after them. We wanted to stay with the big kids.

  Ms. Colman and Mrs. Papadakis were in the front hallway. They had heard the noises too.

  “Are you boys playing tricks?” asked Ms. Colman.

  Sam held up his hands. “It was not us.” The Three Musketeers waited with Ms. Colman while Sam and his friends searched the house. They did not find anything.

  Soon Nancy’s mommy came to pick her up. Nancy ran through the rain to Mrs. Dawes’s car.

  Sam walked Hannie and me home. It was still drizzling. I was cold and wet and miserable by the time we reached the big house. As we passed Morbidda Destiny’s, I could see warm yellow lights on inside. Smoke was curling up from their chimney. I pictured Druscilla and Mrs. Porter in the kitchen, stirring a big cauldron. (And Mrs. Peterson, Druscilla’s mom, if she were a witch too. And she probably was. Daddy had said she was a lawyer, but that did not mean she was not a witch in her spare time.)

  I was convinced that somehow Druscilla was behind the hauntings of the haunted house. I could think of two reasons she would want to do something mean to me. One, I had said mean th
ings to her. Two, I wanted her to give up being Cinderella for Halloween. But how could I prove Druscilla was trying to scare me?

  Halloween Problems

  I will show her, I thought. I will show Druscilla that she should leave being Cinderella to someone who really knows how to be Cinderella.

  On Sunday I did not go to the haunted house to decorate. Our room was almost finished, and I wanted to work on my Halloween costume. Now I was in my room, trying on my fake glass slippers and my gown and my cape with the fake fur.

  I looked gigundoly wonderful. Elizabeth’s old party dress fit me perfectly. It was lovely. My slippers looked like real glass slippers. And the cape was just the right touch. But I was not finished. I would have to do something with my hair. I decided to ask Kristy to give me a princessy hairdo on Halloween.

  What else did I need? I thought back to the movie. Cinderella had a fancy necklace. I searched through my jewelry box and found a very fancy necklace with crystal beads on it. Perfect! And gloves. I needed fancy white party gloves. I remembered seeing some in the back of one of my drawers. They were behind my old, too small bathing suit.

  My fake glass slippers had little heels on them, and I practiced walking. I decided I would have to wear tights with them, to be warm.

  There was no doubt about it. I would be the best Cinderella on Halloween night.

  “Karen, dinner,” called Nannie from downstairs.

  Oh, boy! I realized I was starving. Working on my costume had used up a lot of energy. I peeled off my costume and ran downstairs. I raced into the kitchen and grabbed a place next to Kristy.

  “I am so huungryyyy,” I sang. “Hungry is whaaat I am. There is nooobody as huungggryyyyy as me.”

  Nannie smiled at me. “Good. I hope you are ready for spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “Yum!” I said. Nannie piled my plate high.

  “Speaking of spaghetti and meatballs,” said Sam, “they kind of look like brains. Maybe I could use them at the haunted house.”

  Charlie swirled some spaghetti on his fork. “You are right,” he said. “It does look like brains. And we all know your classmates could use some more brains.”

  Sam snorted. “You are just jealous,” he said. “Because our room is so much scarier than your room. And because my costume is so much cooler than your costume. And because I have sold more tickets to the haunted house than you have.”

  “What?” cried Charlie. “You are dreaming. Your room is totally lame. Your costume stinks. And I have sold way more tickets than you.”

  “You have not!” said Sam.

  “Have too!” said Charlie.

  Elizabeth sighed and tapped her spoon against her water glass. “Stop it, you two. I do not know what the matter is with you lately. You have been bickering over everything. Now just be quiet for the rest of dinner, please.”

  Sam glared at Charlie. Charlie glared at Sam. I ate my spaghetti and meatballs. It was nice not being the one told to be quiet, for a change.

  “So, I have bought two bat houses,” said Daddy cheerfully. “I hung them on the back of the garage.”

  “What?” I cried. “Already? Why don’t you just put up a sign saying ‘Witches Welcome Here’? We do not want bats in — ”

  “Good, Watson,” said Elizabeth loudly. “The bats will help keep insects away. And they will not bother anyone during the day.” She smiled at Daddy.

  “But — ” I began.

  “How many bats will two houses hold?” interrupted Kristy.

  “They are small houses, but each one will hold between twenty and thirty bats,” said Daddy. “I guess the bats snuggle up inside.”

  I did not say anything for the rest of dinner. Afterward I went to my room, feeling very grumpy. This Halloween was not turning out as I had hoped. Number one: Someone was haunting the haunted house. (Druscilla, I thought.) Number two: There would be two Cinderellas. (Druscilla again.) Number three: Bats would live in the yard at the big house. (Daddy.)

  Would anything go right for me on Halloween?

  The Last Straw

  On Monday morning the three Musketeers met on the playground at school.

  “We have to catch Druscilla in the act of haunting the haunted house,” I said. “We must come up with a plan.”

  “If it is Druscilla,” said Hannie.

  “How could it not be Druscilla?” I asked.

  “I mean, if it is a real ghost, instead,” explained Hannie.

  I did not like to think about it being a real ghost. I wanted it to be Druscilla.

  “How could we catch a real ghost?” asked Nancy. She frowned. “I do not even think I want to.”

  “Me neither,” said Hannie.

  “Oh, I bet it is not a real ghost,” I said. “I bet it is Druscilla. Now, let’s each try to think up some plan to catch her. At lunchtime we will compare plans. Then we will know what to do.”

  I felt very grown-up saying that. There was only one small problem: I had no ideas for a plan myself.

  * * *

  As it turned out, Hannie and Nancy could not think of anything either. We decided to think some more.

  * * *

  That afternoon our class went back to the haunted house. There was some work left to do, but not too much. The school bus dropped off Hannie, Nancy, Ms. Colman, Ricky, Sara, Leslie Morris, Bobby, Natalie, and me.

  As we were trooping up the stairs to our room, kids from both Sam’s and Charlie’s classes arrived too.

  Sam pushed open the door to his class’s room.

  Whoosh! I turned around just in time to see a red plastic bucket fall onto Sam’s head. The bucket was full of fireplace ashes! When Sam grabbed the bucket off his head, he looked as if he had been rolling in a fireplace. Soot and ashes covered his hair and face and shoulders and sweatshirt. His wide, surprised eyes started whitely from his face.

  “Oh, my goodness,” said Ms. Colman.

  Across the hall, Charlie started laughing. “You look like a ghost,” he said. “A ghost in reverse.”

  “You did this!” said Sam angrily.

  “I did not!” said Charlie. “How would I know you would be the one to open the door?” He chuckled again. “You do look pretty funny, though.”

  “Oh, ha, ha,” said Sam.

  Still chuckling, Charlie backed up to his class’s door and pushed it open. Whoosh! A plastic bucket of ashes dropped down on his head!

  He pulled the bucket off, and he looked just like Sam: all gray and black and sooty, with big white eyes.

  Sam started at him in disbelief, then doubled over with laughter. “You are right!” he said, gasping. “You do look funny that way!”

  “Okay, this has gone far enough, boys,” said Sam’s teacher. “I do not know who is responsible, but let’s get this mess cleaned up. We still have work to do. We do not have time for pranks.”

  “All right, class,” said Ms. Colman to my friends and me. “The show is over. Let’s go to our own room, please.”

  I headed toward our room. Either Druscilla had sneaked in and put the buckets of ashes over the doorways, or … it was a real ghost. I did not like to think about it.

  I turned the handle on our door and started to open it. Whoosh! A plastic bucket of ashes and soot fell down on my head! “Ew!” I cried. I tasted ashes in my mouth!

  Ms. Colman grabbed the bucket off my head. “Karen, are you all right?” she asked.

  I blinked. I was covered with yucky, dirty, fireplace ashes. They were in my hair. They were down my shirt. They were all over my face. I took off my glasses and blinked again. My classmates were staring at me. Hannie’s mouth dropped open. Nancy had covered her face with her hands. Ms. Colman took my glasses and wiped them off.

  For a moment I felt tears come to my eyes. This was one of the worst things that had ever happened to me. I was so embarrassed. Everyone was staring at me. Then I had one thought: Druscilla. Druscilla has gone too far.

  Druscilla’s Alibi

  “I am all right,” I said, but
my voice wavered.

  “I cannot believe this happened,” said Hannie.

  “I wish I had thought of it,” said Bobby.

  “Since you live right down the street, Karen, why don’t you go home and get cleaned up?” said Ms. Colman kindly. “You do not have to come back today if you do not feel like it.”

  “Okay,” I said. But I had another plan. I had something to do before I went home. Under the ashes, my face was burning with embarrassment. I felt terrible. But I was going to do something about it.

  “I will come with you,” said Hannie. She patted my shoulder, then looked at her fingers and wiped them on her jeans.

  “I will come too,” said Nancy.

  “I guess that would be all right,” said Ms. Colman. “Be sure to come right back, though.”

  We left the haunted house. (Hannie told her mother why we were leaving.)

  “You will probably want to take a shower,” said Nancy, looking at the trail of ashes floating behind me.

  “Yes,” I said. “But first I am going to let Druscilla have it.”

  “Druscilla?” asked Hannie.

  “Yes.” We crossed the street. “Druscilla was the one who put the buckets over the doors. I am sure of it. Now I am going to have a talk with her.”

  “Um,” said Nancy. “Are you really sure?”

  “I am positive.” We stopped in front of Mrs. Porter’s house. I had been here only a few times before. It was very creepy, even in the daytime. I stepped up on the porch and rang the doorbell.

  Morbidda Destiny herself answered the door. As usual, she was dressed all in black. Her frizzy gray hair stuck out like a cloud around her head. She peered at me.

  “Karen, is that you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I had an, um, accident. Is Druscilla here, please?”

  “Yes. She is up in her room,” said Mrs. Porter. “It is the second door on the left. I know she will be happy to see you.”

  I do not think so, I thought as we headed up the stairs.

  Inside, Morbidda Destiny’s house looked pretty much like any other house. Tables, lamps, chairs. Their witchy things were probably hidden in the basement. I felt angry all over again.