by Joe McGee
Vampyra was getting close. She soared and swooped and flew around the branches and treetops.
“I see her!” she said. Vampyra flapped her wings and got closer. Sure enough, Shadow was curled up on a branch right over their heads. “You certainly do look like a shadow,” Vampyra said to the little black kitten. “I almost didn’t see you.”
Shadow arched her back and stared at Vampyra the bat, and then at the ground. She hissed. She blinked her green eyes. She wanted to jump, but it was too far and she was scared.
“It’s okay,” said Vampyra. She flashed her best batty smile. “We’ll help you get down.”
“Meow, meow.”
Vampyra flapped back down to her friends. She fluttered in the air, and her wings became her cape, and one . . . two . . . three . . . her body changed from bat to girl.
“Wow!” said Peter. “I wish I could do that!”
“Did you find her?” asked Wolfy.
“I did,” said Vampyra. “Shadow is right above us. But it’s too far for her to jump, too high for us to reach, and I’m too little a bat to carry her.”
Franky scratched his head. He twisted his bolts. He’d listened hard to what Vampyra had said. Franky was a very good listener.
“Too high to reach?” he asked.
“I’m afraid so,” said Vampyra.
“Maybe not for all of us,” said Franky.
CHAPTER
8
BARON VON GRUMP WAITED. HE listened. He waited and listened. No one was hollering. No one was shouting. No one was singing or saying, “Good morning.” No one was shouting, “RATS!” And there was certainly no bullhorn.
“Could it be?” asked Baron Von Grump. “Could those irksome villagers finally be gone?”
“Caw, caw!” said Edgar.
“Yes! Yes, my fine feathered friend,” said Baron Von Grump, “let us see for ourselves.”
He stomped over to his shutters. He pushed them wide open. He raised his big, black, bushy eyebrows. And then Baron Von Grump did something that Baron Von Grump rarely ever did.
Baron Von Grump smiled. Not a small, crooked smile like before. This was a full, wide, genuine smile.
He looked to the left. He looked to the right. He looked across the village.
“They’re gone!” he said. He clapped his hands together and danced in a little circle. “The villagers have all gone. My rat plan was a success!”
There were no villagers. No horses. No wagons. No children. No chickens. No smiling or singing or gum-chewing or “good mornings.” The village was entirely empty . . . except for the rats.
Big, fat, lazy rats with wedges of cheese, as far as the eye could see.
Baron Von Grump leaned out his window and shouted down to the rats, “Hey! Would you mind nibbling your cheese just a bit more quietly?”
“Sure thing, boss,” said the big rat. “HEY! RATS! QUIET DOWN!”
Baron Von Grump’s smile disappeared. Rats had been part of his plan. Loud, nibbling, cheese-chomping rats had not.
CHAPTER
9
FRANKY STRETCHED HIS LONG ARMS. He stretched his long legs. He stood on his tippy toes and felt around. His fingers touched the bottom branch, but Shadow was still too high up.
Stand up and stretch as high as you can. Put your arms way up over your head. Now wiggle your fingers about. Can you feel a kitten? No, you cannot. That’s how Franky felt.
“We’ll never be able to reach her,” said Peter.
“Never say ‘never’ when friends work together!” said Franky. “Wolfy, climb onto my shoulders.”
Wolfy climbed up and reached for Shadow. But they were still not high enough.
“Vampyra, can you climb onto Wolfy’s shoulders?” asked Franky.
Vampyra climbed up. But they were still not tall enough.
“We’re so close!” said Vampyra.
“Okay, Peter. Your turn,” said Franky. “Be careful!”
“But it’s so high up!” said Peter.
“I’ll hold your legs,” said Vampyra.
“And I’ll keep us steady,” said Franky.
“We won’t let you fall,” said Wolfy. “A Junior Monster Scout is always careful and kind.”
“Well, okay, then,” said Peter. He climbed up Franky, up Wolfy, and up onto Vampyra’s shoulders.
“A little to the left,” said Peter. “A little more. Almost there . . .”
Peter’s fingers touched soft fur.
“That’s it!” said Peter.
“Meow,” said Shadow.
Peter gently lifted Shadow off the branch and climbed back down.
He stepped off Vampyra’s shoulders and onto Wolfy’s head.
“Owwwww!” howled Wolfy.
“Sorry!” Peter said.
Shadow squirmed in Peter’s hand.
Peter stepped off Wolfy’s head and onto Franky’s bolts.
“Yeowch!” Franky hollered.
“Didn’t mean that,” said Peter.
Shadow arched her back. Peter held her tight and slid down off Franky.
“That was a challenge!” Peter said.
“You’re telling me,” grumbled Wolfy, rubbing his head.
Once they were all back on the ground, the black kitten jumped right onto Peter’s head and curled up under his hat.
“I’m so glad you’re safe, Shadow!” said Peter. “I was scared that you’d stay lost.”
“Meow,” said Shadow. She had been scared too.
But they were still in the Gloomy Woods, and that made them all a little scared.
“Maybe we should get out of here,” said Wolfy.
Everyone thought that was a very good idea.
Since Wolfy and Vampyra could see better in the dark, they led the group out of the Gloomy Woods. It felt good to be back in the sun, even for Vampyra, who preferred to sleep in during the day and stay up later at night.
But little did they know that while they’d been helping Peter to rescue Shadow, things had gone crazy in the village!
Peter and the Junior Monster Scouts could not believe what they saw. Everyone was leaving the village! Horses and wagons and people with packs and bags and baskets and suitcases marched down the road away from the village and away from the Gloomy Woods and the Junior Monster Scouts. They were taking the road toward the lake, and they were sure in a hurry. It was a long, long line of frantic villagers, with the mayor at the front, leading them all with his bullhorn, on his bicycle.
“Hurry!” the mayor shouted through his bullhorn. “Run! Run for your lives! Orderly running, please. No pushing or shoving!”
But everyone pushed and shoved. They were running for their lives!
(Which is kind of silly because the rats weren’t hurting anyone at all.)
“Where is everyone going?” asked Wolfy.
“I don’t know,” said Peter. “Today is the village cheese festival! Let’s go find out.”
“But they’re all the way down the road,” said Vampyra.
“We’ll never catch them!” said Franky.
“And the mayor’s bullhorn is so loud,” said Peter. “They won’t hear us calling them.”
Shadow wiggled out from under Peter’s hat. She landed on her feet (cats always land on their feet) and curled around Vampyra’s legs.
“I think she likes you,” said Peter.
Then Shadow arched her back, straightened her tail, and let out the loudest “Meow” she could. It was very tiny and very cute, but not loud enough to be heard over the shouting, pushing, shoving, and bullhorn.
However, it did give Wolfy an idea.
“That’s it!” said Wolfy. “Thanks, Shadow! I know just how to get the villagers’ attention.”
Wolfy leaned way, way, way back and let out the loudest howl he could.
It worked! The villagers stopped pushing and shoving, and the mayor rode his bicycle back to Peter and the Junior Monster Scouts.
“Where is everyone going?” Peter asked.
The mayor explained the r
at problem to them. “And so you see,” said the mayor, “we have to leave. They’re everywhere! Nibbling our crackers, chomping our cheese, jumping onto our pillows, and climbing our walls. There are too many of them. We have no choice! Oh, woe is us!”
Peter held up his flute.
“I think we might be able to help,” he said.
CHAPTER
10
PETER’S PLAN WAS SIMPLE.
First they brought Shadow into the village. As soon as she crawled out from under Peter’s hat, she saw the rats. And the rats saw her. Rats do not like kittens. Kittens do not like rats.
Of course, there were other cats in the village. But the village cats were old, and lazy, and not at all interested in chasing around big, cheese-eating rats. Not when the cats could curl up in the sun and swish their tails about.
But Shadow was young, and full of energy, and very much interested in chasing a bunch of cheese-eating rats.
The rats dropped their cheese wedges. Shadow hissed. The rats shrieked. Baron Von Grump had not mentioned anything about a kitten to the rats. He had promised cheese, and lots of it. But he had failed to mention anything about a spitting, biting, scratching kitten. And what if she woke up the rest of the older lazy, napping cats? What then? No way!
“Run for your lives!” the big rat yelled. Then he burped. He really didn’t have any manners at all.
Rats hopped out of windows. They scurried up chimneys. They ran under doors and along rooftops. Everywhere they ran, Shadow followed, darting left and right, right and left. She chased them all in one direction . . . out of the village.
Shadow did not really want to catch any of the rats. This was just a fun game for her. But the rats didn’t know this, and the rats were scared. There was a lot of pushing and shoving as the rats fled for their lives.
“I feel bad for them,” said Wolfy. “All they wanted was cheese.”
“They look pretty scared,” said Vampyra.
“I have an idea,” said Franky. He leaned over and whispered into Peter’s ear.
Franky was not telling secrets. That would have been rude. Rats have very good hearing, and Franky didn’t want the rats to know what the Junior Monster Scouts were up to. Franky was quite clever.
Peter grinned. “That is a very good idea,” he said.
He picked up his flute and played. It was a happy song. It was the kind of song that might make you think of ice cream, and your favorite toy, and warm, fuzzy blankets. When the rats heard it, they felt happy. Very happy. Even the big, burping rat with no manners was happy.
The rats were so happy that they stopped running. They stopped pushing and shoving. They formed one line of happy, smiling rats, following Peter and his flute.
“It’s working!” said Wolfy.
“But where should we lead them?” Franky asked. “Where can they be happy too?”
“I know!” said Vampyra. “There’s plenty of room in the castle! I’m sure my mom and dad won’t mind. We have a great big basement with more than enough room for all of these rats. They can even have Ping-Pong tournaments!”
Peter played his flute and followed Vampyra, Franky, and Wolfy to Dracula’s castle. The rats followed Peter. Shadow followed the rats. It was a very long line.
They crossed the drawbridge over the moat. They marched into the castle. They went down, down, down into the basement. Then Peter stopped playing.
“Here you go,” said Vampyra to the rats. “You can stay here for as long as you like.”
She was right. There was lots of room! And lots of dark places and lots of cobwebs. It was perfect for a rat.
“Thank you!” said the big rat.
Well, maybe he had some manners.
“What’s this? What’s going on?” said Vampyra’s dad from the basement steps. “Where did all these rats come from?”
“From the village,” said Franky.
“They needed a place to stay,” said Wolfy, “and they can’t stay in the village.”
“And our basement is so big,” said Vampyra. “Please, Dad? Please, can they stay?”
“Well, I don’t see why not,” said Vampyra’s dad. “But no scampering around at all hours of the day!” he said to the rats. “I need my beauty sleep.”
“You—you’re Dracula,” said Peter. “Like, in the stories. You’re a real monster!”
“What? No!” said Dracula. He popped out one of his pointy teeth. “These aren’t even real. See?” He waved it around. “Fake!”
“Then why do you wear them?” Peter asked.
Dracula shrugged. “Good question.”
CHAPTER
11
BARON VON GRUMP’S SMILE HAD gone from a big grin to a little twitch, to a thin line, to a frown. A full, frumpy, sour frown.
Baron Von Grump was angry. He was so angry that he hopped up and down. He stomped his feet. He wrinkled his eyebrows. He even shook his fist in the air and yelled, “I am so angry!”
“Caw! Caw!” said Edgar.
Edgar was angry too.
First it had been the villagers. Then it had been those cheese-nibbling rats. And then, when things had finally gone quiet, when he’d finally picked his violin back up and set the bow against the strings so that he could tune it, someone had howled. A long, loud, rolling howl. Then a kitten. A hissing, spitting kitten. Then there had been a boy with a flute. No, a boy playing a flute, and three little monsters all smiling and, and, and . . . breathing! Breathing can be very, very loud.
Everything was loud to Baron Von Grump. His own breathing was loud. His hollering, hopping, and stomping was loud. He could barely hear himself think.
With the rats gone, the villagers would move back in. With the villagers back, there would be more smiling, and singing, and gum-chewing, and “good mornings.” There would be laughing and breathing and good cheer.
“I am so angry!” roared Baron Von Grump, pacing and stomping around.
See? He was really, really angry.
Think of some time when you were really angry. Think of when you had to go to bed early, or eat lima beans, or clean up your toys before you could go out and play. That probably made you angry, right? Well, Baron Von Grump was even angrier than that! Like, a hundred times angrier. Maybe a zillion times.
“Caw! Caw!” said Edgar.
“Stop cawing!” hollered Baron Von Grump. He shook his fist at Edgar and stomped some more.
Edgar’s little eyes twinkled mischievously. “Caw?” He flew up to the top rafter and stayed out of Baron Von Grump’s way.
“Argh!” yelled Baron Von Grump. He stuffed cotton into his ears and slammed his shutters closed.
That was how angry he was.
CHAPTER
12
THE VILLAGERS, HOWEVER, WERE NOT angry. They were very happy to be back home in their village. They were so happy that they gathered right in the village square, every one of them, from young to old.
There was lots of smiling, lots of singing, and lots of good cheer. There was even lots of gum-chewing. These villagers really liked gum.
After the rats were settled, Franky, Wolfy, and Vampyra walked Peter back to the village. Everyone was gathered in the square.
“Peter,” said the mayor, “you led the rats out of the village. You saved the day! I want to give you a medal.”
Peter was proud. “Thank you,” he said. “But . . .”
“But what?” said the mayor.
“But I didn’t do it alone,” said Peter. He called his friends over. “Wolfy, Vampyra, and Franky all helped me. We saved the day together!”
“Don’t forget Shadow,” said Wolfy.
“Meow,” said Shadow.
“But . . . but they’re monsters!” said one of the villagers. He hid behind a wagon.
“Monsters are scary,” said another villager. She grabbed a pitchfork.
“Don’t eat me!” said a third villager. He pulled his hat down over his face.
“They won’t eat you,” said Peter. “And
they’re not scary. These are nice monsters, and they’re my friends. These Junior Monster Scouts helped me find Shadow, and then they helped me lead the rats out of the village.”
“Monsters?” said the mayor. “Helping?”
“By tooth or wing, by paw or claw, a Junior Monster Scout does it all!” said Vampyra, Franky, and Wolfy all together.
“But they live in the old castle!” said one of the villagers.
“Technically, I live in the mountains near the castle,” mumbled Wolfy.
“Beyond the Gloomy Woods,” said another villager.
“Up past the graveyard!” said a third villager.
“And they’re terribly frightening!” said the mayor. “It says so right here!”
He held up a large book. The title was The Big Book of Scary Monsters.
“Those are just stories!” said Peter.
“They are?” said the mayor and the villagers.
“Those stories aren’t real,” said Vampyra.
“They’re not?” said the mayor and the villagers.
“We’re just like you,” said Wolfy. “Maybe just furrier.”
“And really quite friendly,” said Franky.
“Junior Monster Scouts, you say?” said the mayor.
“That’s right,” said Vampyra. “We help people.”
“And take care of the environment,” said Wolfy.
“And learn new things!” said Franky.
The mayor scrunched up his eyebrows. He twisted his mustache. He looked from the book to the monsters, and then back to the book. A smile spread across his face and he tossed the book into a nearby haystack.
“Well, it sounds to me like we need four medals!” declared the mayor.
“Don’t forget Shadow,” said Franky.
“Meow,” said Shadow.
“Five medals,” said the mayor.
“Three cheers for the Junior Monster Scouts!” said Peter.
“Hip, hip, hooray!” shouted the villagers. “Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, HOORAY!”
CHAPTER
