“But this is an emergency,” said Stink. “What could be more special than that?”
My turn,” said Judy. “I know a hurricane story. It’s called Mr. Drybones. But it’s a little scary.” She peered at Stink.
“Why are you looking at me?” Stink asked. “I’m not scared.” He scooched closer to Grandma Lou. She put an arm around him.
“Once there was a hurricane named Elmer that came to Frog Neck Lake, Virginia. The winds blew — woooooh — and all the lights went out.”
“Just like us!” said Stink.
“Down a dark, dark street called Croaker Road, there was a dark, dark house.”
Stink leaned in closer. “That’s our house!”
“And the dark, dark house had a dark, dark door. Behind the dark, dark door was a dark, dark hall. And down the dark, dark hall were some dark, dark stairs.”
Stink shivered. He twisted the end of a blanket into a tornado of a knot.
“At the top of the dark, dark stairs was an even darker hall. At the end of that dark, dark hall was an even darker door.”
Before Judy could say the next line of her story, a door slammed. For real! Everybody jumped. “It’s just the wind,” said Dad. Mouse hid under the couch.
“Behind the dark, dark door,” Judy went on, “were dark, dark steps that went up to a dark, dark attic. In the dark, dark attic was a dark, dark closet. And in the dark, dark closet was a dark, dark box.”
“What’s in the box?” Stink asked, his eyes wide.
“From the dark, dark box came a dark, dark rattling sound, like the sound of dry bones. And when the dark, dark box was opened, out came . . .”
Stink covered his eyes with his hands. “Mr. Drybones?” he squeaked.
“No — a pink jellybean!” Judy squealed. Everybody laughed.
“That’s a good one,” said Dad. “You had me a little scared for a minute.”
“I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t scared!” said Stink.
“Sure, Stink,” said Judy.
Dad put one last log on the fire. Grandma Lou pulled a blanket up around Stink’s shoulders.
“My turn!” said Stink.
“Let’s hear your story, Stink,” said Mom. “Then bedtime. It’s almost ten. Abe Lincoln was in bed every night by nine o’clock,” she added slyly.
“For real?” Stink asked.
“It has to be a hurricane story,” Judy told him.
“Um, okay, it’s a hurricane story,” said Stink. “But it’s also an Abe Lincoln story.”
“Oh, brother,” said Judy. “Did they even have hurricanes back then?”
“Yeah. Even Christopher Columbus had one,” said Stink.
“It’s true,” said Dad. “On one of his voyages to the New World.”
“And don’t forget Ben Franklin,” said Mom. “He went out to study an eclipse one night and ended up studying a hurricane.”
“Sorry I asked!” said Judy. “I thought it was a day off from school, that’s all.”
“So. Is everybody ready or not?” asked Stink.
“Ready, Freddy,” said Judy.
“Once upon a time, Abe Lincoln sat in his log cabin, reading a book.”
“Don’t tell me. By candlelight,” said Judy.
“By candlelight. There was a monster storm outside. We’re talking super bad, like it could have been Hurricane Hercules. Abe rocked back and forth, back and forth in his rocking chair, reading, when . . . Brrinngg!”
Judy jumped.
“The phone rang,” said Stink.
“Wait,” said Judy. “Abe Lincoln had a phone?”
Grandma Lou put her finger to her lips. “Let’s let Stink have his turn.”
Stink pretended to pick up a phone. “‘Hello?’ Abe said. A spooky voice on the other end said, ‘The Viper is coming, the Viper is coming. The Viper is just down the road.’
“‘Who is the Viper? And why are you coming?’ Abe asked.
“Click. The phone went dead.
“Abe went back to reading. But he hadn’t even read two sentences when — Brrinngg! — the telephone rang again. ‘Helllooo?’ Abe said, all shaky-like.
“‘The Viper is coming. The Viper is coming for you. The Viper is on your street.’
“Presidents are always super brave, but even tall Abe was a little scared now. ‘Who is the Viper? And why are you coming for me?’
“Click. The phone went dead. Again.
“Abe was super-scared now. He rocked back and forth, back and forth in his rocking chair when — Brrinngg! — the phone rang. Again.”
“Not again,” said Judy.
“‘Not again!’ said Abe. He picked up the phone. ‘Helllooo?’
“‘The Viper is coming. The Viper is coming. The Viper is almost at your door.’
“Now Abe was shaking in his slippers, he was so scared. But before he could ask, ‘Who is the Viper?’ one more time, he heard a loud Boom! Boom! Boom!
“It wasn’t a Toad Pee tent that landed on his roof. It wasn’t a spaceship or a bionic squirrel either. It was a knock. On his door!” Stink paused. He looked right at Judy. In a spooky voice, he asked, “Should Abe answer the door?”
“Yes!” yelled Judy. “No, wait. No!”
“No. Of course not. But if Abe wanted to be president someday, he had to be brave. So he got up and opened the door a crack. CREEEAK!
“Abe peeked out the door. There on his doorstep was a short, funny-looking man with a bucket in one hand and a sponge in the other.”
“Sponge Bob?” Judy whispered.
Stink’s eyes grew wide. He shook his head no. He threw out his hands and shouted, “‘I am the Viper!’”
Everybody jumped. Mouse leaped from under the couch into Judy’s arms. Judy let out a squeal.
“‘Who are you?’ said Abe. ‘And what do you want with me?’
“‘I told you. I am the Viper. The Vindow Viper. I come to vipe your vindows!’”
The next morning, when Judy came downstairs, Stink was sprawled on the floor writing in a notebook with his five-in-one flashlight pen.
“What are you doing?” Judy asked.
“Writing a novel,” said Stink. “With my hurricane pen — it has a built-in flashlight. The power’s still out. My book’s going to be thirty-nine pages long. Want to hear?”
“Sure!” said Judy. She sat down. She closed her eyes and got ready to listen with her best third-grade listening ears that she usually saved for school days.
Stink began. “‘It was a dark and stormy night.’”
Silence. More silence. Judy opened one eye. She opened the other eye.
“Go on,” said Judy. “I’m listening.”
“That’s all I have so far,” said Stink.
“Only thirty-eight and three-quarters more pages to go,” said Judy.
“Thirty-eight and a half,” said Stink, “if I write really big.”
“Where’s Grandma Lou?”
“Everybody’s out in the car,” said Stink. “Listening to the radio.”
Mom and Dad came back in. “No school again today,” said Mom.
“Yes!” Stink pumped his arm in the air.
“Good news,” said Dad. “They downgraded the storm from Category Three to Category Two.”
Hurricane Elmer. Day two. Grandma Lou taught Judy how to knit with just her fingers. She showed Stink how to mummy-wrap his own hands. They had stare-down contests. They had thumb-wrestling contests. Then Grandma Lou pulled out her fortune-telling game.
“You brought your Ouija board!” said Judy.
“What’s a weejie board?” asked Stink.
“It’s not for scaredy-cats,” said Judy. “It’s for talking to ghosts. And for telling fortunes.”
“And it glows in the dark,” said Grandma Lou. “You kids go ahead and play while I finish my knitting.”
“So how does it work?” asked Stink, leaning in to see.
“We rest our fingers on the pointer — lightly — and ask it a question. Then it s
pells out the answer. Or it says Yes, No, or Good bye.”
Judy and Stink placed their fingertips on the pointer. “Me first,” said Stink. “What is Judy’s middle name?” The pointer spelled out letters one by one.
R-A-T-F-A-C-E.
“Rat face! No fair, Stink. You made it say that,” said Judy.
“Did not!”
“Okay,” said Judy. “My turn. What is Stink’s middle name?”
“P . . .”
“Wrong! My middle name starts with an E.”
The pointer moved to the letter U. “P-U,” said Judy.
“P-U what?” said Stink.
“That’s it. P.U. is your middle name, Stinker.”
“Is not,” said Stink. “You made it spell that.”
Judy shrugged. “I have a question for real. Will we have school tomorrow?”
The pointer zoomed up to the right-hand corner of the board, where the word NO was printed. “NO,” said Judy.
“YAY!” said Stink.
“Stink, quit moving it.”
“I’m not — ”
“Guess what, kids,” said Mom, coming into the room. “No school tomorrow either. I just got a robo-call on my cell phone from the superintendent’s office.”
Judy and Stink locked eyes. Judy got goose bumps. Stink shivered.
“We already know,” said Stink. “A ghost just told us.”
“The Ghost of Weejie,” said Judy.
“Any chance your ghost could tell us when the power’s coming back on?” Mom asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay,” said Judy. “But, Stink, you can’t move it this time.”
“I won’t! Cross my heart and spit in my eye!”
“Grandma Lou,” said Judy, “will you watch to make sure Stink doesn’t move the pointer?”
“Okay,” said Grandma Lou. “But make it quick. It’s almost time for my nap.”
“Weejie,” said Stink, “is there a ghost in Judy’s room?”
Just then, Mouse pounced on the board and the pointer slid down to GOOD BYE.
“That doesn’t count,” said Stink. “Mouse moved it.”
“Okay. Try again.”
“Is there a ghost in Judy’s room?” Stink asked.
The pointer moved toward the number two. Then the pointer went to the letter M. After that it made a beeline for the word YES.
“I didn’t move it,” said Stink. “Honest.”
“Me either.” Judy’s eyes grew wide. “Grandma Lou, I wouldn’t take a nap if I were you. Weejie says there’s a ghost in my room. And you’re sleeping in there.”
“I’m not afraid of a silly old ghost,” said Grandma Lou.
“You’re not?” Judy asked.
“Nope. I grew up in an old house with a ghost.”
“You did?” Stink asked.
“Sure. His name was Bob. He liked pretzels.”
“Bob? Ghosts don’t have the name Bob,” said Judy.
“Why not? What name do you think they have? Casper?”
“I don’t know. Ichabod. Or Bloody Mary or something.”
“Or Abe Lincoln,” said Stink. “Some people think his ghost is in the White House. But ghosts aren’t real. And they definitely don’t eat pretzels.”
“How do you know, if you’ve never seen one?” said Grandma Lou with a twinkle in her eye. “If Santa likes cookies, why can’t Bob like pretzels?”
Stink scratched his head. Stink scratched his elbow. Suddenly, Stink felt itchy and scratchy all over.
“Yep, old One-Legged Bob. We’d hear him clomping around the attic at night, dancing on one leg. Could hardly sleep a wink some nights.”
“You’re just saying that,” Stink said to Grandma Lou.
“Am I?”
“Did Bob ever go bowling up there?” Judy asked.
Stink shook off a shiver. “Dad!” he called to the next room. “Grandma Lou’s teasing us with scares. About ghosts.”
Dad poked his head into the room. “Grandma Lou sure is a good storyteller, isn’t she, kids?”
“Now I’m going to warm up some milk over the fire and go upstairs to take my nap,” said Grandma Lou.
Naps. Ghosts. Pretzels. She, Judy Moody, had an idea.
Rare!
Judy hurry-up whispered her idea to Stink. They raced upstairs.
“Stink, go get a pair of Dad’s shoes. And your hurricane pen. And some pretzels. Hurry, before Grandma Lou comes up to take her nap.”
Stink didn’t even mind Judy bossing him. Pranking Grandma Lou was going to be even better than the Fake Hand in the Toilet joke.
Judy got the periscope from her room — the one she had made from coffee cans, oatmeal containers, and tissue boxes — and leaned it up against the wall in the hall so it would be ready. Next, she tied a piece of thread to a single pretzel and put it with other pretzels on a plate on the nightstand. She flicked the five-in-one pen to make sure it worked.
She, Judy Moody, with Stink’s help, was going to ghost Grandma Lou good.
“Hey, how about sound effects?” Stink said, coming back with Dad’s boots. “I have a bunch on the computer.”
“Stink. Blackout. Remember? We’ll have to make our own sound effects. Go get one of Mom’s fancy water glasses — but don’t let her see you take it.”
Judy and Stink rigged up the greatest ghost trick ever. Then they hid in Stink’s room and waited. Stink could hear Judy breathing. It sounded a little like a ghost. A chill crept across his back.
“I think I hear her,” said Stink.
“Shh! Here she comes.”
Grandma Lou went into Judy’s room and closed the door. Judy and Stink counted to a hundred. Twice.
“Ghost time!” Judy whispered. She motioned Stink to follow her into the hallway.
Stink made one-legged clomping sounds outside Judy’s room with a boot of Dad’s. Judy scratchy-scratch-scratched on the wall and tappa-tap-tapped on the bedroom door.
No answer. Grandma Lou must have fallen asleep.
“I don’t think she heard our ghost,” Judy whispered.
Stink mimed opening the door a little. Judy turned the knob and slowly opened the door a crack. Stink made creaky-door sounds with his best squeaky-door voice, as if a ghost were entering the room.
Judy pushed her periscope through the crack. She spied on Grandma Lou.
“Milo, Candy Cane, did you hear something?” they heard Grandma Lou ask. “No? I guess it was just my imagination.”
“Cue the ghost,” whispered Judy.
Stink wet his finger with spit and rubbed it around the rim of the fancy water glass. Weeeee! Wooooo! The glass made ghosty, goose-bumpy sounds. Even Judy got the shivers.
“Did you hear that?” they heard Grandma Lou ask the animals. “No? Okay. I guess I’ll go back to sleep.”
“Cue the pretzel,” Judy whispered. Stink oh-so-carefully pulled on the end of the string. CRASH! The whole plate of pretzels fell to the floor, except for one. One pretzel walked across the floor and out the door.
“A walking pretzel? Now that’s strange,” they heard Grandma Lou say. “Unless it’s a . . . No. Couldn’t be.”
And now, for the icing on the cake, thought Judy. Stink handed her his flashlight pen. Judy turned on the pointer. A small green beam of light shot out like a laser. Through the open crack in the door, Judy slowly spelled out three letters on the wall of her room for Grandma Lou to see.
B-O-B.
“Ghost!” they heard Grandma Lou screech. “Ghost in the house! Bob is back!”
Through the periscope, Judy saw Grandma Lou jump up in bed.
“Quick! Hide the stuff!” she whisper-yelled to Stink. Stink tossed the ghost supplies into his room. Judy tried to hide the periscope behind her back.
Grandma Lou grabbed Milo and Candy Cane and dashed out into the hall, almost crashing into Judy and Stink.
“Grandma Lou,” said Judy, “you look like you just saw a ghost!”
“G-g-ghost!” Grandma Lou pointed toward
Judy’s room. “It’s Bob. He’s baaaaack!”
“Ghost? There’s no such thing as ghosts,” said Stink.
“Pretzels don’t just up and walk by themselves,” hissed Grandma Lou. “I told you, ghosts love pretzels.”
Judy snickered. Stink bit his cheeks to keep from laughing.
Grandma Lou narrowed her eyes. “Wait just a cotton-candy-eatin’ second. I see a ghost and — why aren’t you two scared? You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
Judy shook her head. Stink tried to keep a straight face. But he couldn’t hold it in for one more second.
“It was us!” Stink cried.
CHOMP! Judy bit into a pretzel and grinned.
“The pretzel-eating ghost is Judy. And me!” Stink cried. “We pranked you! We ghost-pranked you so good!” Judy and Stink rolled on the ground, laughing.
Hummm. Click. Purrrr. Stink woke with a start. Something was different. Something was not right. “Judy!” he said rubbing his eyes. “Did you hear sounds?”
“Umm. Ghost,” said a sleepy Judy.
“It’s not a ghost. I hear humming. And clicking.”
“House sounds, Stink. Go back to sleep.”
Stink reached over and flipped a switch. The light blinked on-off-on-off.
“Hey!” Judy said, squinting.
“Power’s back on,” said Stink. “No more blackout!”
They padded into the hall. Mom and Dad were up, too. “We left some lights and things on when the power went out,” said Mom.
“I’ll check the downstairs,” said Dad. “You kids go back to bed.”
“But I’m not sleepy now,” said Stink. “It’s too exciting!”
“It’s the middle of the night, Stink,” said Judy, yawning.
“Warm milk?” Mom asked.
Everybody piled downstairs. Mom heated milk — not on the fire. Judy read her book — not by candlelight. Stink flipped the light switch. On, off. On, off. On. Because he could.
“Yes, Stink. Electricity is a wonderful thing,” said Mom. “But don’t waste it.”
“Think of all the stuff we did this week without electricity,” said Judy.
The Big Bad Blackout Page 3
