A Babysitter's Guide to Monster Hunting 2

by Joe Ballarini

  “Professor Gonzalo! Get in here now!”

  A tubby, pear-shaped man wearing a tweed jacket and a bow tie cautiously poked his head into her room. Professor Gonzalo’s tiny, cruel eyes blinked behind his dirty spectacles. Though he was the fifth Boogeyman, he feared Serena.

  “Yes, my queen?” said the eager Professor.

  “I need to feed,” she said.

  “I’ll bring something up from the cellar immediately.” The Professor’s sweaty upper lip curled into a smile. “We caught another visitor while you were out. A babysitter.”

  Serena’s fangs lowered. She threw back her hair and her jewels sparkled like stars on a summer night. “Aaaaaaah.”

  She noticed the Professor staring at her wrinkled face; her sagging mouth and lopsided eye. The horrified look in the Professor’s eyes in reaction to her sudden ugliness embarrassed her. Kelly the babysitter had done this to her. And Kelly the babysitter would suffer for all eternity for it.

  “What are you waiting for? Fetch me my dinner!” she shouted.

  The Professor scrambled away, bowing.

  “Makeup!” snapped Serena.

  Her makeup artist–troll nervously dragged over a treasure chest filled with enchanted beauty products, procured from witch doctors and voodoo priestesses from around the world.

  A spider dipped its legs inside a jar of concealer and expertly tapped cover-up under the queen’s eyes. As spiders scurried across her face, applying lipstick and rouge, the queen watched her skin magically lighten and glow to perfection. She blew a kiss at her reflection.

  “That’s more like it. Mama looks goooood.”

  The spiders kissed her on the cheek and applauded.

  Dust disturbed by a strange breeze curled around them. Static electricity crackled as shadows swirled into the shape of a sixteen-year-old girl with black pigtails and a sour, scornful expression.

  “Ah, Miss Hargrave,” said Serena. “How nice to finally see you. Thank you for letting my servants and me stay in your lovely home. I hope we haven’t disturbed you or your family?”

  With croaking tones, Harriet Hargrave told the monster queen of the terrible thing the young babysitter had done to her, and then she told them where they could find her.

  28

  Pushing the baby buggy through the icy suburbs, I saw the lonely blue glow of a television in the window of a house that was not decorated for Christmas. An elderly man was watching TV. I thought of banging on his front door and asking for help, but then I saw through his hazy curtain that he had an oxygen tank by his chair. He wheezed and breathed into a foggy rubber mask as the Rockettes danced across the screen.

  Icy wind buzzed, rattling Christmas lights against houses. It sounded like chattering teeth.

  “Eeeeh, eeeeh,” said Theo.

  “Okay, Big T.,” I whispered. “What’s the plan?”

  “Daddoooo daddddsseeee.”

  “Okay.”

  “DaadOOOO daddSEEEE!”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking. We keep a low profile until Wugnot picks us up. Head back to HQ. Give Mr. Eight Tap Shoes in my backpack to Berna, see if she can make an antidote for Serena’s poison out of it.”

  Theo’s eyes sparkled. I took a deep breath.

  “And then, we get rid of Serena and her spiders.”

  And then what? We would inject the antidote into each of the infected, one by one?

  I shuddered at the tasks ahead. It all seemed so impossible.

  “I don’t know, Big T.” I sighed. “I’m just me. And you, no offense, you’re a baby. Not exactly the deadly duo. Let’s get you someplace safe till Wugnot finds us. I don’t feel like playing hide-and-seek in subzero temps with Serena’s minions.”

  A warm light rose in the distance. I pushed the stroller toward the peak of a red-and-white-striped big top tent. The bright smell of fresh evergreens greeted me. A banner hung over the entrance: “Old Nick’s Tree Patch.”

  Yes! I love Christmas tree lots. This is the perfect place to wait.

  I walked under the tent, past a life-sized, wooden Nativity scene. There were so many Christmas lights that they cast a soft halo around us. Not exactly a secret hideout, but it would have to do.

  As families shopped around us, I dialed Berna’s number and gave her the full scoop.

  “You have a spider in your bag?” Berna said.

  “Yeah. Don’t remind me. I die a little every time I feel it move. How close is Wuggie?”

  “He’s gonna be a little late.”

  “What part of ‘I’m being hunted’ don’t you guys get?”

  “We are doing the best we can with what we’ve got right now. We’re down three sitters, and now Liz and Kevin have gone AWOL.”

  “What happened?”

  “Liz was playing music to Kevin,” Berna continued. “That kid can dance to some Gaga. He was stomping around. I thought he was going to break through the floor. Then he saw a picture of Liz and him when they were kids . . . His family, y’know. And Kevin threw a big ole tantrum.”

  GRRRRZZZT! The earsplitting sound of a buzz saw made me jump. The Christmas tree–seller guy had a tree laid on a saw machine and was chopping the end off the stump. The grating sound gave me the chills.

  “He wanted to see his parents. Liz explained that they were divorced and that things hadn’t been so good the past few years since Kevin went missing. Well, Kevin started crying, and he ran out the door to go and find them.”

  “He’s out?” I yelped.

  “Wugnot tried to stop him, but Kevin knocked him out of the way. Went full beast mode on Wugnot.”

  “Kelly?” said a voice behind me.

  I froze. I knew that voice. It was the voice of rainbows and chocolate. I turned around. There he stood, beside the Christmas trees, wearing his backpack, a puffy blue jacket, and a beanie over his shaggy black hair, which fell over his eyes. Victor.

  “I’ll call you back, Bern,” I mumbled into the phone.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Y’know. Babysitting! Duh!” I tried to laugh, but it came out weird. No surprise. “What brings you here?”

  “Getting a tree,” he said, pointing to his family.

  His burly dad and cute mom were inspecting a North Valley Spruce, grumbling about the price. His little brother and sister swatted each other with broken branches.

  “Well, hiiii, everybody! I mean, hola, amigos; familia de Victor! This is not my baby. No es mi bambino. I’m a babysitter. Not a mommy.”

  Stop sounding so dorky. Just talk normal. I can’t! This is his family!

  Victor’s mom smiled at me. “¿Quién es?”

  Victor’s dad elbowed his mother and whispered: “Es ella.”

  Victor’s mother nodded. “Sí, yes. Hello, Kelly.”

  They know about me?

  I vigorously shook their hands. Victor’s mother caught sight of Theo, and she became transfixed, drawn toward the stroller. A huge grin broke out on her face. She beckoned Victor’s father over. The whole family admired Baby Theo.

  “Angelito,” Victor’s father said.

  He made the sign of the cross, kissed his fingers, and then reached out and placed them on Theo’s forehead. I leaned over and checked the backs of all their necks.

  No spider bites. All clear.

  “Are you wearing makeup?” Victor said in half question, half wonderment.

  I felt my cheeks flush. “Uh. Yeah. No biggie,” I scoffed, trying to sound cool. “Makes me feel more professional when I babysit.”

  What are you saying?

  Victor spoke Spanish to his parents, and they cast suspicious glances at me. From what I understood of their argument, Victor asked if he could stay to walk me home. Or he really wanted to buy some cheese at the beach. My Spanish is not that good.

  Finally, his parents agreed.

  “Nice to meet you, Kelly. Victor, we will see you at home in ten minutes. Diez.”

  I waved good-bye as they dragged their tree
off, leaving Victor and me and Theo alone amid the small forest, under the twinkling lights.

  This is our Fault in Our Stars moment!

  “You’re shaking,” said Victor.

  “It’s cold.”

  Nothing to do with your big brown eyes staring into my soul.

  “Let’s walk to my house and wait there.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. Wugnot’s picking me up. You can go.”

  The light in his beaming eyes dimmed. “You don’t think I can handle being a babysitter, do you? You saw my little brother and sister. I grew up changing their stinky diapers.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Am I not good enough to be in your club?”

  “First, it’s an order, not a club. And second, you’re more than good enough. Is that why you were so upset with me at school?”

  “I guess.”

  “Well, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. If I’m honest, I’m the one who doesn’t feel worthy. There’s all this pressure on me to be awesome, and I’m not really living up to it at the moment. I would never want to make you feel the same.”

  “Well, you kind of are. And what are you talking about? You’re great.”

  “You’re catching me between failures,” I said. “I never meant to make you feel not good enough. It’s just . . . There’s this rule. Law, actually.”

  “What law?”

  I cringed. “Can’t we just, like, drink some hot chocolate and talk about other things? It’s been a doozy of a night.”

  “What law, Kelly?”

  I sighed and opened the Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting and showed him

  Law Number Three: no crushes allowed while sitting.

  Victor looked confused. Then his dimple appeared. He glanced at me.

  “Does this mean I’m . . . your . . . ?”

  “High five!”

  He gave me a weird look and high-fived me. Not the most romantic gesture, the high five, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  “This is very strange,” he said.

  “Strange? I pour my heart out, and all you can say is that’s strange?” I snapped the guide shut. “Let’s go, Theo.”

  I pushed the stroller away, but then I felt Victor’s warm hand hold on to my arm. He pulled me close. I could smell the Dr Pepper Cherry on his breath.

  I could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

  “Victor, if we’re together,” I said slowly, “bad things will happen.”

  “This doesn’t feel bad to me.”

  You’re right. This feels like giggles and puppies.

  I swear, mistletoe was hanging right above our head.

  “When I am with you,” he whispered, low and soft, “only good things happen.”

  This is the part where he kisses you. What do I do? I NEED CHAPSTICK! DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY CHAPSTICK? MEDIC!

  His face filled my eyes. I puckered my lips and—

  Click.

  The string of lights shut down around us. The Christmas music under the tent stopped. We were plunged into darkness.

  29

  “Lot’s closed!” called the gruff tree-seller guy. “Time to go, kids.”

  A cold wind raced through the branches.

  “Eeeeea!” cried Theo.

  The romantic flutter in my belly was replaced with a creepy feeling.

  “Uh-oh,” I said, tensing. “Theo’s monster radar. Something’s coming.”

  I scanned the darkness. Along the street, I saw the Rolls-Royce driving slowly through the neighborhood like a shark patrolling the ocean. The pale chauffer and the eerie masked trolls were peering from the windows, scrutinizing the area.

  I gasped, grabbing Victor and Theo, and we ducked behind a patch of noble firs. One of the masked trolls pointed in my direction, and the creepy car drove toward us.

  The Rolls-Royce rumbled to a stop in front of the Christmas tree lot. Icy mist plumed from its exhaust. Headlights cast long black shadows through the trees. It was as if the babysitter universe wanted to punish me for having a crush.

  “Sorry, folks. Lot’s closed,” the Christmas tree seller said to the driver.

  From our hiding place Victor and I watched the car window roll down.

  The seller leaned toward the driver. “You hear me in there?”

  A flash of black fur pounced in the man’s face. He stumbled back as the spider clamped itself on his mouth. I closed my eyes in terror. Victor’s breath quickened.

  “Dios mío.”

  “Quiet!” I whispered, looking for the best exit route.

  Three masked trolls hopped from the Rolls-Royce. Their snotty noses snuffled as they entered the tent. Behind them, the tree seller rose to his feet with a possessed look in his eyes.

  “There’s two kids in there,” said the bitten seller. “One of them’s got a baby.”

  Thanks a lot, mister.

  I pushed the stroller through the labyrinth of Christmas trees. Victor followed close behind me and picked up a long branch.

  “I’ll protect you, Kelly.” He swung it around like a staff. “I’ve been practicing my babysitter-fu.”

  “Now is not the time for heroics,” I said.

  “Now is the perfect time for heroics!” he said.

  The pitter-pat of little spidey feet rolled across the ground. Spiders swished through the trees, searching for us.

  Victor squealed. I clamped my hand over his mouth, muffling his scream.

  GRRRZZZZT! A troll had turned on the buzz saw machine. The little creep clapped with glee as the blade spun. Our game of hide-and-seek was about to end with us drowning in bugs and then being chopped to pieces.

  This really is our Fault in Our Stars moment. One of us is going to end up dead!

  I pushed Theo toward the back of the tent. Victor swept away a few arachnerds away from our feet, but the eight-legged flash mob scurried around us.

  Climbing, leaping, clicking.

  Their jeweled eyes sparkled as the spiders bobbed back and forth on their spiky fingerlike legs.

  I saw their little pincers and fangs, and my body did an impression of wet spaghetti.

  I reached in my book bag and threw handfuls of jelly beans onto the floor in front of me. The crawlies gobbled them up and marched at me.

  “You’re feeding them?” Victor said. “Are you crazy?”

  “Do you not think I know what I’m doing?”

  In seconds we’d be buried in a mass of legs and pincers, but I had to get this off my chest.

  “Answer the question. Do you or do you not think I know what I’m doing?”

  “Yeah! I dunno. This is kind of a lot to take in.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, pouring jelly beans in his hand.

  He tossed them at the spiders, and they gobbled them up.

  One of the spiders in front of me began to shake and jitter like the lid on a boiling pot. Squeal! Boosh! In a burst of purple sludge, one exploded, leaving nothing but its legs. Squeal! Boosh! Another one popped. Squeal! Kaboosh! In rapid-fire succession an entire row of enormous bellies detonated like firecrackers, painting the trees in purple muck.

  “What kind of jelly beans are these?” said Victor, inspecting one.

  “The exploding kind,” I said. “Don’t eat them.”

  The other spiders shrieked, clambering over one another other to dive back into the Rolls-Royce.

  I saw one of the trolls lift his mask, and his pug nose sniffed the air. The rest bounded through the trees, their gooey nostrils flared.

  They can smell us. . . .

  I caught a whiff of Theo’s diaper. Ripe and pungent.

  “They can smell Theo’s diaper!”

  “So can I,” Victor whispered. “His shorts are fully loaded.”

  That’s how they know where we are.

  “I have an idea,” I whispered.

  The trolls hopped to the back of the tent. They parted a stack of evergreens, and with leering smiles, found Theo’s dirt
y diaper hanging from a branch.

  Psych!

  Meanwhile, Theo, Victor, and I were a block away, running and watching the trolls angrily look around for us. My dirty diaper decoy had bought us a little time, even if poor Theo had to go commando until we were safely out of range.

  “High five!” I said, holding up my hand.

  “Do you always high-five this much?”

  “Nervous habit. Just slap my hand, please. I can’t lower it until you do. It’s a thing.”

  We slapped hands. I checked my phone. Wugnot had texted, saying he was right around the corner. As we ducked through backyards, I felt something stuck on my head. A severed spider leg was tangled in my hair.

  We made our way to the corner of Oakdell and Pippin, where Wugnot was waiting in the babysitter mobile, rocking out to a death metal version of “Jingle Bell Rock.”

  “Who the fluffernutter this?” Wugnot said, jabbing his tail at Victor.

  I loaded Theo into the back of the van. “Victor, Wugnot. Wugnot, Victor.”

  Victor made a shocked sound and stared at Wugnot.

  I nudged Victor. “Hobgoblins don’t like to be stared at.”

  Victor quickly looked away as Wugnot clicked his teeth.

  “Any word from Vee or Cassie?”

  “Was just going to ask you the same thing,” said Wugnot, driving off.

  “We need to go back to headquarters, get Berna to make an antidote; then we’ll figure out a plan of attack on Hargrave Manor.”

  “Righteous.” Wugnot suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh, that Victor!”

  I sank in my seat. “Please don’t embarrass me, Wuggie.”

  “Don’t you know Law Number Three?” announced Wugnot.

  I growled at him.

  Wugnot shifted gears, grinding the van’s transmission.

  “Which way to your house, Victor?” I asked.

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” Victor said.

  “Oh yes I am,” Wugnot said, slamming hard on the brakes. “Get one thing straight, boyo.” Wugnot pointed his thumb to his chest. “I am a rules-based individual. Do you have any idea how much trouble I’d be in if I didn’t follow the guide? And if it says no crushes on a job, then you can take a hike.”

  “Wugnot, be cool!” I said, my eyes bulging at how freely he said “crush.”