Why I'm Not Afraid of Ghosts

by R. L. Stine

  Oliver brushed his hand across his nose. His eyes stayed closed, and he still breathed slowly.

  He sure was a heavy sleeper!

  Robbie glanced around. He knew he was making all these noises himself. But they were so good, he almost expected to see the goblins and skeletons and giant cannibal bats and the Frankenstein monster crowded around the room, leaning over to smile hungrily at Oliver. Their next victim!

  Or maybe even stare hungrily at Robbie!

  But no, Robbie reassured himself. Nothing else was here.

  Just Oliver, asleep in the bed, and Robbie, drifting in the air.

  Whew!

  Okay. Robbie hadn’t pulled out all the stops yet!

  Robbie had summoned all kinds of pretend monsters to the room, but they weren’t really here.

  But I am! Robbie thought with a grin.

  Ghosts were real, no matter what Oliver believed. And there was a ghost in here all right!

  Robbie moaned. He groaned. He cried out in terror and agony.

  “Oh, it hurts. It hurts!” he shrieked. “It’s killing me! And it’s coming for you!”

  He howled so loudly that the covers of comic books on the floor flipped open and pages fluttered.

  He screamed. He gurgled with a horrible wet, choking noise, then stopped as if his throat had been cut.

  Oliver lay quietly on the bed below Robbie. So quiet. He wasn’t snoring anymore.

  Was he even breathing?

  Oh, no! What if he wasn’t?

  What if Robbie had scared Oliver to death?

  Robbie dropped down and stood on the floor by Oliver’s bed. He leaned over to listen.

  What if Oliver wasn’t breathing?

  He’d seen TV shows where people did CPR and brought other people back to life. But he didn’t know anything about CPR! He never watched a TV program long enough to learn how to do it!

  “Oliver?” Robbie reached out to shake Oliver’s shoulder. But he couldn’t. He’d used up all his energy on sound effects! His hand went right through Oliver!

  Panic rose in Robbie like a scream.

  “Oliver?” he whispered urgently. “Please wake up! Oliver? Are you okay?”

  11

  Robbie stood frozen beside Oliver’s bed. Was Oliver still alive?

  Oliver snorted and turned over again. He started snoring.

  Oliver wasn’t dead.

  He was just asleep. Deeply asleep.

  Robbie couldn’t believe it!

  Oliver had slept through the entire haunting!

  Every moan, every howl, every creeping, slobbering, skritching, stumbling sound of it!

  All of Robbie’s best work!

  How could he?

  Robbie was so mad that if he had had any energy left, he would have tipped Oliver out of bed onto the floor!

  That would have done it! Yeah! Tangle him up in sheets and dump him onto the floor!

  Why hadn’t Robbie thought of that before?

  Nothing like a good thud on a hardwood floor to wake somebody up surprised!

  But no. Robbie had used up all his energy on sound effects.

  What an idiot he was!

  “Rats!” Robbie muttered, stomping around the room.

  He almost tripped over Spooky.

  Even the dog slept through Robbie’s haunting!

  “Boo,” Robbie said. Then, enraged, he screamed “Boo!” as loud as he could in Spooky’s ear.

  “Woof,” Spooky mumbled without opening his eyes.

  What a waste! What a worthless waste!

  “Well, that was as exciting as a Sunday afternoon nap,” Dora’s snotty voice jeered.

  Oh, great. Not only did he use up all his best noises, but now he’d have to listen to Dora gloat!

  Robbie headed for the attic. He couldn’t stand being in Oliver’s room a moment longer. The scene of his miserable failure.

  All his best skills. And not one of them had scared his victim.

  Robbie felt exhausted as he climbed the attic stairs. He was so tired, he couldn’t even float up.

  He couldn’t remember feeling this tired before.

  He began the night with so much energy. Now he had almost zero. He didn’t have enough energy to be bothered when Dora danced around the attic, taunting him.

  He was too tired to care!

  “Mr. High-and-Frighty,” Dora teased.

  “Cut it out,” Robbie moaned. “Just shut up.” He slumped in the armchair, so weak, he couldn’t even raise dust.

  Dora did a little tap dance. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Useless-Excuse-for-a-Nightmare!”

  “Don’t worry? Even you can’t scare this guy. Nothing works,” Robbie mumbled. “We’ve tried everything we usually do.”

  Dora grinned. “So it’s time for something completely different! A whole new tactic. Guess what? Tomorrow I’m going to follow Oliver to school!”

  “School?” Robbie felt stunned. “When was the last time we left the house?”

  “Never,” Dora admitted. “But this is a special case. Don’t you want to get this guy? How could he ignore that last howl of yours?”

  Robbie stared at his sister. Had she almost said something nice about his haunting?

  “Let’s scare him out in the open, in front of other kids!” Dora exclaimed.

  What a mean plan!

  Robbie felt so encouraged, he even managed to smile.

  * * *

  In the morning Robbie watched Oliver and Nell having breakfast.

  Robbie was still so tired from haunting the night before, he wished he could eat some Sugar-Frosted Nuggets himself

  Mrs. Bowen stood by the counter, yawning, drinking coffee, and making lunches for the kids.

  “Did either of you have any more weird dreams last night?” she asked.

  “No,” Nell replied.

  Robbie tensed, hoping that Oliver would talk about monsters. Ghosts. Bats, wolves, owls . . . anything!

  “No,” Oliver said. “Not that I remember.”

  Dumb kid!

  Maybe he had no imagination.

  Maybe he was too stupid to be scared!

  “Oh, wait. There was something about . . . chains . . .” Oliver murmured.

  Yes! Robbie perked up. Here it comes!

  “Chains?” Mrs. Bowen asked.

  “Chains,” Oliver repeated. “Rattling chains. I think I was dreaming—about my band! Yeah! Finally an awesome name for my band. The Rattling Chains! I like it!”

  No, Robbie thought. No! No!

  “Don’t worry,” Dora whispered in Robbie’s ear. “Oliver won’t be this calm when I get through with him.”

  Robbie nodded. Right now he didn’t care who scared Oliver. As long as Oliver was really frightened.

  Then maybe Oliver would finally believe in ghosts!

  12

  Dora and Robbie followed Oliver and Nell on the way to school, pretending to be their shadows.

  Robbie was peeved because Dora shadowed Oliver. She had picked first. So Robbie had to stick with Nell.

  He didn’t like being a girl’s shadow.

  It was perfect ghost weather. Dark clouds covered the sky. The wind blew dried leaves along the curbs. The air was cool and smelled like rain.

  Nell pulled a pink collapsible umbrella out of her backpack. She pressed the button to open it and held it above her head.

  “Put that umbrella down,” Oliver scolded. “It’s not raining yet.”

  “I like it up,” Nell replied.

  Oliver rolled his eyes. “You look dumb.”

  Nell stuck out her tongue, but she closed the umbrella. “Will you walk me over to this girl Tracy’s house after school today?” she asked. “I met her yesterday, and she invited me over.”

  “Did you check with Mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you check with Tracy’s mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay,” Oliver said. “I’m glad you’re making friends. Maybe you’ll leave me and Shawn alone now!”
>
  “Hah!” Nell scoffed. “Maybe we’ll both spy on you!”

  “You better not!”

  Nell just smirked.

  Robbie agreed with Oliver. Nell was a brat!

  They reached Shadyside Elementary School. Kids flooded down the street and out of parked cars, heading into the front entrance.

  “Be here after school!” Nell commanded before running off. She joined a little girl with pink-framed glasses on the front steps of the school.

  Robbie almost shadowed Nell into school. He noticed when she was halfway across the street. He jerked himself loose from her shadow just in time.

  “Bossy! For a little kid, she’s awfully bossy!” Oliver was muttering as Robbie drifted back.

  “Wake up!” Dora yelled for Robbie’s ears only. “We have a job to do!”

  “You have a job. I’m just going to watch!”

  “All right,” Dora growled. “Watch and learn!”

  * * *

  Both ghosts clung to Oliver’s shadow as he went inside the big redbrick school. There were so many students in the halls that Robbie was confused. He hadn’t seen these many people in one place in a long time! If ever—outside of TV.

  Oliver’s first class was English. Robbie was relieved to get to a room where they could stay still for a while. It was hard following Oliver when he dodged between people. This school was huge and noisy!

  Dora didn’t start anything yet. Robbie wondered if something was the matter with her.

  Maybe she was just trying to get used to being in this big building! It felt strange to be outside the house.

  By the end of Oliver’s class, Robbie began feeling better, more himself. Dora seemed to perk up too.

  Oliver’s second class was math. Robbie had an easier time navigating the halls this time. Dora winked at him, so she must be ready for the big scare.

  The teacher, Mr. Gerard, handed out a math test. “Now that we’ve gotten the introductory material out of the way, I want to see where you all are in math. We have some new faces in Shadyside this year.” He smiled at Oliver.

  Oliver smiled, looking embarrassed. He peeked at the kids near him. Robbie checked them out too. They were studying Oliver. He was the new kid after all.

  “Oh, yeah,” Dora murmured. “This will be good. Now everybody’s looking at him.”

  Dora clasped her hands above her head and shook them like a champion. Robbie rolled his eyes.

  “Here’s an extra sheet of paper,” Mr. Gerard continued, passing out blank paper to all the kids. “Remember, show your calculations, everyone!”

  Some kids groaned and mumbled that it was too hard, but Robbie noticed Oliver went right at it. Oliver must be good at math.

  Oliver was breezing through the third problem when Dora sprang into action. She grabbed the pencil out of his hand. She zoomed up and drilled the pencil point-first into the ceiling.

  Oliver blinked, stared at his paper and his hand.

  He peered down at the floor.

  No pencil.

  But also no reaction.

  Robbie knew what Dora did wrong. She performed the pencil trick so fast, Oliver didn’t even know what had happened!

  Oliver yawned into the back of his hand, dragged out his backpack, and pulled out his three-ring binder.

  He flipped it open and took another pencil out of the zipped pocket in front. Then he went back to work.

  “Do it slower,” Robbie suggested. “He has to be able to see where it goes.”

  “Shut up!” Dora snapped.

  “But Robbie noticed that she did what he said. For once.

  She grabbed Oliver’s pencil slowly this time. She waved it around in front of his eyes to make sure he was watching what she was doing, then zapped it up into the ceiling. It hung quivering next to the other pencil.

  Oliver stared at the two pencils for a second.

  Then he got out another one and went back to work.

  Dora’s mouth dropped open. So did Robbie’s.

  “How can he ignore those pencils?” Dora demanded. Robbie shrugged.

  Dora tried again. But this time Oliver clutched his pencil so tight, Dora couldn’t snatch it away!

  “Let go!” she screeched in frustration. Since she couldn’t get the pencil away, she jiggled it so Oliver scribbled on his math paper.

  He frowned and erased the squiggles.

  And went back to work!

  By this time, Robbie noticed, other kids were peeking at Oliver. The girl at the desk to Oliver’s right sat staring at the pencils in the ceiling, her mouth open. The boy to Oliver’s left, narrowed his eyes, glancing from the pencils to Oliver and back.

  Robbie tried to send a mental message to Oliver. Just act scared, Robbie ordered him. Act scared, and we’ll leave you alone!

  Oliver ignored the ceiling pencils, the other kids, and Robbie’s thoughts, and went on working.

  Robbie could tell Dora was really steamed now! She snatched Oliver’s notebook off his desk and slammed it onto the floor!

  Mr. Gerard looked up. Several heads whipped around.

  “Uh,” Oliver mumbled. “Sorry.”

  He leaned over to pick up his notebook. Dora grabbed his third pencil and shot it into the ceiling!

  Oliver just got out another one.

  Robbie shook his head. How can Oliver stay so calm? he wondered.

  The girl next to Oliver gasped. “But—but—” she stammered, pointing at the ceiling.

  “What?” Oliver asked. He glanced up. “Oh.” He shrugged and gazed back down at his test. He studied the next problem on his paper, chewing on his pencil.

  All the kids in the class stared at him. One or two giggled.

  The boy to Oliver’s left leaned over. “How did you do that?” the boy whispered.

  Yeah, Oliver, Robbie thought, explain that one.

  Oliver just smiled mysteriously and went back to work.

  The room buzzed as the class muttered and murmured. Some kids pointed at the pencils in the ceiling.

  “Class!” Mr. Gerard exclaimed. “What’s all this noise? Get back to work!”

  The kids stopped whispering. They bent over their math tests. They picked up their pencils and went back to work.

  But everyone kept sneaking looks at Oliver.

  No one could concentrate!

  Dora swooped at Oliver’s desk. She grabbed his math test and tugged it.

  Oliver dropped his pencil on the desk and grabbed his test. Dora snatched his fourth pencil and jammed it into the ceiling!

  Oliver sighed.

  “Coo-uhl!” the boy on Oliver’s left exclaimed.

  Robbie couldn’t believe it. All Oliver did was open his notebook and reach into his pencil keeper.

  But this time Oliver came up empty-handed.

  He glanced at the girl next to him. She shook her head no.

  He peeked at the boy to his left. Another head shake.

  Oliver sighed again and stood up. He gazed at the pencils in the ceiling. He climbed onto his desk chair and reached for them.

  “Oliver Bowen, exactly what do you think you’re doing?” Mr. Gerard demanded.

  That was when Dora did her worst. Or best, depending on how you looked at it, Robbie thought.

  She grabbed Oliver and spun him around on the chair!

  Robbie clutched his stomach. Oliver twirled so fast! If he were spun like that, he knew he would throw up.

  Robbie flew up to the ceiling as the class went wild. Kids jumped to their feet. The whole room buzzed with their exclamations: “Wow!” “No way!” “How does he do that?” “Oh, man!” “Teach me to do that!”

  Mr. Gerard tried to restore order. “Oliver Bowen!” he shouted. “Stop that! Oliver Bowen! Do I have to send you to the principal’s office? Class! Settle down!” He hit his desk with a steel ruler.

  Still the kids pointed, talked, and stared.

  Dora spun Oliver six times. Then she let go of him.

  Robbie gazed at his sister. She was fad
ing. Her outline was beginning to blur. She used up a lot of energy moving something as big as a boy! She looked a little green.

  But what about Oliver? Did Dora’s haunting work? Was he afraid? Robbie turned to face him.

  Oliver swayed on his chair, trying to steady himself.

  He opened his eyes really wide.

  And his mouth!

  His face twisted.

  Robbie groaned.

  Oliver was going to scream! Robbie just knew it!

  Oliver was going to scream in terror!

  Dora had won the bet!

  13

  Oliver’s mouth stretched opened even wider.

  This was going to be some scream, Robbie thought hopelessly.

  And Dora was going to be impossible to live with now!

  Then . . .

  Oliver sneezed!

  “Bless you,” the girl to his right whispered.

  “Oliver Bowen, explain your behavior!” Mr. Gerard demanded.

  Oliver reached up and grabbed all four pencils from the ceiling tiles. Then he jumped down off the chair.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it, mister. What were you doing on that chair?”

  “I was, uh, going to get my pencils off the ceiling,” Oliver explained, “but then I—I—well, I could feel myself about to sneeze. I mean a big one! And trying not to sneeze made me kind of jerk around, and then it got out of control somehow and, uh . . .”

  Mr. Gerard glared at him.

  “I—”

  Mr. Gerard’s eyes narrowed.

  Robbie hovered over Oliver. What is he going to say?

  “I won’t do it again,” Oliver promised with a little smile.

  “See that you don’t. You have fifteen minutes to finish this test. I hope you do as well in math as you do in excuses. Class, get back to work!”

  “You moron! You dunce! You idiot!” Dora yelled at Oliver, bouncing around him in total frustration. “Don’t you even know when you’ve been haunted? How stupid can you be?”

  Oliver didn’t even look up.

  Who is this kid? Robbie wondered. What is with him? He knows he didn’t spin around like a whirlwind on purpose! Does he really think he threw those pencils at the ceiling?

  No way! He has to know we’re haunting him!

  Why isn’t he scared?

  Dora swooped down and grabbed at Oliver’s pencil, but her fingers went right through it.