Charlie Bumpers vs. the Squeaking Skull

by Bill Harley

  “You don’t have a costume. What will you wear?” the Squid asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dad said. “Maybe I’ll just go in my underwear.”

  “Daddy!” she screeched. “You can’t do that!”

  “Why not?” Dad tried to look very serious.

  “Because!” she said. “You just can’t. And you’ll be cold.”

  “Dad in underwear is really scary,” Matt said.

  I laughed. But I was still worried about my mom talking to Alex’s mom. “I really want to go.” I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say it one more time.

  “I know that,” Mom said. “We’ll see.”

  Not a good answer. When a parent says that, it usually means, “I hope you forget.”

  I decided the best thing to do was to be quiet and hope for the best.

  4

  Good It’s Not a Goat

  In school the next day, it seemed like any time we weren’t doing math or reading, someone was talking about Halloween. Even our art teacher, Ms. Bromley, was having us make Halloween masks.

  Ms. Bromley isn’t like any other teacher at our school. For one thing, you never know what she’s going to look like. I usually don’t pay any attention to what teachers wear, but with her you can’t help noticing. Sometimes she puts a lot of sweaters or jackets or shirts over each other, with some kind of scarf around her neck. Her hair looks different just about every day. Once, she tied bits of it up with rubber bands in little spikes all over her head.

  Very weird. But I kind of like it.

  I like art class but I’m not very good at it—most of my projects end in disaster. Once I used too much glue on my collage and got some in Ms. Bromley’s hair. Another time, I stepped on the clay I was supposed to be making into a bowl and left a trail all around the room. Ms. Bromley said it looked like Sasquatch had paid us a visit.

  In art class that day, I was making a devil mask. I had made two horns from empty toilet paper rolls, but I couldn’t get them to stick on the sides of the head. After using about half a roll of tape, I finally got them to stay on.

  My mask didn’t look like a devil—it looked like a goat.

  To make it look more like a devil, I painted it red.

  Then it looked like a red goat.

  Hector was sitting next to me. He moved here last summer from Chile. He’s good at art and was making a really cool mask. It had a scary man’s face, but the nose and the ears were pointy like a dog’s, and it had big sharp teeth and a big mouth. It was awesome. He looked over at my mask.

  “Is that a goat?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “It’s supposed to be a devil.”

  “It’s good it’s not a goat,” Hector said, “because I’m making el chupacabra.”

  “Choopa what?” I asked. Hector speaks Spanish, so I figured it was a Spanish word. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound like English to me.

  Hector pronounced the word very slowly. “Chu … pa … ca … bra.”

  “What the heck is a chupacabra?”

  “It is a terrible creature that eats goats and chickens and horses and pigs and maybe even cows.”

  That sounded pretty interesting.

  “What does it mean in English?”

  “Hmmm. I think it would mean ‘sucker of goats.’”

  “Sucker of goats? Goatsucker?” I laughed.

  “Yeah.” Hector smiled. “They say it sucks the blood out of animals.”

  “What’s it look like?”

  “This!” Hector said, holding up the mask. “Kind of like a dog. But no hair. And big. And scary.”

  “Is it real?” I said.

  “I don’t think so,” said Hector. “But people in Chile tell stories about them like they’re real.”

  “Do they come out at Halloween?”

  Hector shook his head. “We don’t have Halloween in Chile.”

  “No Halloween?”

  “Not like here. But I thought it would make a scary mask.”

  “You should definitely wear it on Halloween. You’d be the only goatsucker in town.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll go out to trick-or-treat,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  Hector shrugged. “My parents don’t understand about Halloween. And I don’t really know any kids around where I live.”

  “You should go!” I said. “You’ll get free candy! It’s really fun. You could go as the goatsucker!”

  Hector smiled and shrugged. “Are you going out?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I always go every year.”

  Hector nodded, then went back to putting teeth on his chupacabra.

  But I was thinking about Hector and Halloween. No kid should stay at home on Halloween. Especially if he could be a goatsucker.

  5

  Watch Out for the Goatsucker!

  The next day at lunch, Tommy and I sat at an empty table. Then Alex came bouncing over like a kangaroo and sat with us.

  “Hey, you guys,” he said. He plopped his tray down and his plastic fork bounced off onto the floor. When he leaned over to pick it up, he knocked over his milk carton.

  “Did you ask your parents?” he asked, stuffing about half of his taco into his mouth.

  “I did,” Tommy said. “I think I can do it. But my sister Carla is upset because I usually go with her.”

  “Same with me!” I said. “But I’m hoping I can go. My mom’s going to call your mom.”

  “Okay.” Alex finished off his taco in a second huge gulp. I took a bite of the chicken salad sandwich my dad made. He’s in charge of making lunches every morning before he goes to work.

  “Hey, Alex,” I said. “Is anyone else coming on Halloween?”

  “Maybe. I asked Joey Alvarez.”

  “I was just wondering …”

  “What?” Alex asked, cramming a handful of grapes into his mouth. The kid was a human garbage disposal.

  “Do you think Hector could come?”

  “Hector?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah. He’s never been trick-or-treating, so I thought it would be fun for him to go out with us,” I said.

  “He’s never been trick-or-treating?” Alex asked. “Does he come from Mars?”

  “No, Chile. You know that. He told me they don’t have Halloween there.”

  “That’s crazy,” Tommy said. “I can’t imagine not having Halloween. I’d hate that.”

  “Me too,” I said. “But they do have this creature there that eats goats and cows and horses and stuff.”

  “Really?” Alex’s eyes widened and he stood up. “Does it just eat them whole? What’s it called?”

  “I can’t remember the Spanish word for it,” I said, “but the word means ‘goatsucker.’”

  “Goatsucker? That is so cool!” Tommy switched to his TV announcer voice. “Watch out for the goatsucker!

  “I know,” I said. “And Hector’s making this cool mask of one.”

  “Oh, right. I saw that!” Alex said, hopping from one foot to the other. “It’s super-looking.”

  “So do you think you could invite him to come with us on Halloween?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Alex said. “I just have to make sure there won’t be too many people. Kyle Curtis might come.”

  “Why?” Tommy asked.

  “I don’t know. He lives two houses down from us, and sometimes I play with him. My mom thinks we should include him.”

  I looked at Tommy and he frowned. Kyle was friends with Darren Thompson, who had made me nervous ever since he gave me a wedgie in second grade. And earlier this year when we were having a race to see who was the fastest runner in fourth grade, Hector beat him. Darren still blamed me for making him lose, because I had asked Hector to run. And Kyle was always on Darren’s side.

  “Counting you, that’s just five kids,” I said. “I still think it would be great for Hector to come.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask my mom,” Alex said. “Do you think he’ll come as a goatsucker?”

  “
I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”

  “What’s your costume?” Alex asked. “I’m going to be a ninja.”

  “I’m a werewolf,” Tommy said. “I’m putting hair all over my face.”

  “Cool!” Alex said. “Your mom will let you do that?”

  “I hope so,” Tommy said.

  Alex looked at me. “What about you?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I said. “I’m working on it.”

  Just as we were finishing our lunch, Hector walked by to put his trash in the garbage can.

  “Hey, Hector!” Alex said.

  Hector stopped and looked at him. “Yes?”

  “Are you really going to be a goatsucker for Halloween?”

  At first Hector looked confused, then he glanced over at me and smiled. “Maybe,” he said.

  “What’d you say it is in Spanish?” I asked.

  “El chupacabra,” he said.

  “Chu-pa-ca-bra!” Tommy said. “Awesome!”

  “Stupific!” I said.

  “Hey, Hector,” Alex said. “Do you think you could come to my house on Halloween? I’ll have to ask my mom first, but if it’s okay with her, you could go out trick-or-treating with us.”

  “Maybe,” said Hector.

  I could tell he liked being invited. I sure hoped it would work out.

  “And you could be that goatsucker thing!” Alex said.

  “Chupacabra,” Hector said again.

  “Yeah! Chupacabra!” Alex repeated.

  “Yes,” Hector said.

  “And we’re going to watch a really scary movie,” Alex said. “The Shrieking Skull. It’ll be awesome.”

  “Okay!” Hector said.

  Boogers. I had forgotten about the movie.

  Now I had to worry about Kyle Curtis and that freaky skull.

  6

  Don’t Say That!

  I made it all the way through dinner that evening without saying anything about Halloween. Finally, after we’d finished washing the dishes, I heard my mom talking on the phone in the hall. I went out to listen, but she motioned for me to go away so I went back in the kitchen and stood by the door.

  I could tell she was talking to Alex’s mom. They were chatting about some new grocery store and how good the prices were. Grown-ups always spend a lot of time talking about things that don’t really matter. I wondered when Mom would start talking about something really important, like me going to Alex’s house.

  She finally asked who else was going to be there on Halloween. Then she asked if Alex’s mom needed any help. Then she asked what else we would do besides trick-or-treating.

  She listened for a while, then said, “I’m a little concerned, because Charlie doesn’t do well with scary movies.”

  OH NO! I thought. Don’t say that! I stepped into the hallway and made a desperate face at Mom. “I’m not scared!” I whispered, shaking my head. “Don’t say that!”

  Then she said goodbye and hung up.

  “Can I go?” I asked.

  “Are you sure you really want to do this?”

  “Of course, Mom! That’s why I asked.”

  “I have to talk with Dad about it,” she said. “Mrs. McLeod told me they’re going to watch horror movies. You didn’t mention that.”

  “I forgot,” I said, although I didn’t really.

  “I know you don’t like horror movies,” she said.

  “I do now!” I said. “I really do!”

  Mom looked right through my eyes and into my brain. It’s hard to make your mom believe something she knows isn’t true.

  “I mean I’m not scared like I was before,” I explained.

  “I asked Alex’s mom to let me know what movies they’re going to let you boys watch. I told her I hoped they’d make sure they aren’t too scary.”

  “Mom! What if she tells Alex?”

  I thought about it. If Kyle came and Alex told him I was scared of horror movies, Darren would be sure to find out, and he would never let me forget it.

  “Charlie,” Mom said. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared. And besides, you don’t have to do something just because your friends are doing it.”

  “I’m not scared,” I insisted. “I really want to go. Can I please go?”

  Mom shook her head a little and sighed. “All right. If Dad says okay, then okay,” she said.

  “Thanks.” I crossed my fingers and waited while she went in and talked to Dad.

  When I heard him say okay, I did a little happy dance in the hallway. Stupific!

  I was psyched, but I decided to keep it a secret at home. I didn’t want the Squid to be upset about me not going trick-or-treating with her, and I didn’t want Matt to tease me about being scared.

  But it’s hard to keep a secret in our house.

  7

  The Squeaking Skull

  I was in my room reading a book for school when Matt came in.

  “Are you going to Alex’s for Halloween?”

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Are you going to watch a horror movie?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”

  “Which one?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Alex said they might get The Shrieking Skull.”

  “The Shrieking Skull? That’s the creepiest movie ever!”

  “It is?”

  “You’re going to die of fear when you see that movie.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “It’s this really scary story about a skull with no body. It flies around and eats everything. It’s terrifying. You’re going to wet your pants!”

  “I am not!”

  “You might! Even I was scared when I saw it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it’s got this part in it where the Shrieking Skull starts chattering its teeth and moaning, and then someone starts wailing, like ‘Ohhh noooo, the Shrieking Skuuulll! Argghhhhhhh!’”

  Matt held his throat and made gargling sounds like someone was strangling his guts out.

  Suddenly, my bedroom door opened wide.

  It was the Squid.

  “Hey, you guys! What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want to talk about the Shrieking Skull in front of our sister. I looked at Matt and he nodded—he understood.

  “You were talking about something!” she said. “What was it?”

  “It was nothing, Mabel,” Matt said. “Just some dumb thing your brother is doing.”

  “You were talking about something,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and screwing up her mouth. “I heard you. And I know what it was!”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Someone was screaming because of a squeaking skull!” She nodded her head like she had caught us.

  Matt and I burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny about a squeaking skull?” she asked. “What does it do?”

  I figured it was safe if everyone thought it was

  just a squeaking skull. “It squeaks,” I said.

  “Why? How does a skull squeak?”

  “It just does,” I said. “It has this really high-pitched squeak and it drives everybody crazy. Eeeeeek! Eeeeeeeeek!” I made as high-pitched a squeak as I could.

  The Squid giggled. “That’s silly! A squeaking skull!”

  “Eeeeeek! Eeeeeeeek!” I screeched.

  The Squid turned and ran down the hall. “Mom, I’m a squeaking skull! Squeeeek! Squeeek!”

  “Matt, please don’t tell Mom or Dad about The Shrieking Skull,” I said.

  “I bet you wish it was a squeaking skull,” he said, “and not a shrieking skull.”

  “No, I don’t,” I said, even though I did. A movie about a squeaking skull would be hilarious.

  “Don’t worry, little brother. It’s okay even if it is a shrieking skull.” Matt lowered his voice to a whisper. “Because I have a plan to save you. I’ll be back at bedtime.”

  Later that night, I got in bed and waited for my brother.
I wondered what he had in mind this time. Matt’s pretty smart, and his plans are mostly good, but sometimes he comes up with horrible ideas, like the time he got me to use laundry detergent to wash my hair.

  I didn’t have to wait long. He gave my door a little rap, then came in.

  “Okay. What’s your plan?” I asked.

  “I’m going to de-scare you,” he said.

  “De-scare me? What’s that?”

  “I’m going to fix it so you won’t be scared by anything,” he said.

  It sounded like a great idea. “How are you going to do that?”

  “Every night until Halloween I’m going to tell you a terrifying story at bedtime. At first you’ll be really scared, but every night you’ll get a little less scared. By the time Halloween comes, when you watch a scary movie you’ll just laugh.”

  “Really?” I said.

  “Works every time,” he said.

  “When else have you done it?” I’d never heard of someone being de-scared.

  “You’re my first case,” he said. “But I’m sure it’ll work. When you see people being devoured by a flying skull, you’ll laugh your head off.”

  I decided it was worth a try.

  “Okay,” I said. “Are we starting tonight?”

  “No,” Matt said. “We’ll start soon. When you’re not expecting it. The first night will be the worst.”

  Now I was getting the creeps. Matt could be pretty scary.

  “Good night, Charlie von Bumpermeister,” Matt said in a raspy Dracula voice.

  “Good night,” I said. “Um, thanks, Matt.”

  “Anytime, my little brother. Sleep well.” He turned off the light and slowly closed the door.

  I rolled over. I hoped the de-scaring would work. But when I shut my eyes, all I could think about were flying skulls and evil goatsucking monsters.

  8

  Umbrellas and Vampires

  The next morning it was raining like crazy and the wind was blowing. The Squid and I finished breakfast and started getting ready to walk down to the bus stop.

  “Hurry up,” Mom said. “And don’t forget to take your umbrellas.”

  “I love my umbrella,” the Squid said.