by R. L. Stine
“You stay here and greet them,” Carly Beth told her. “If Steve really can find a symbol of love at his house—and if it works—we’ll be right back.”
“It’ll work,” I said. “I know it will.”
But I had my fingers crossed. Which made it even harder to climb up from the couch.
Carly Beth saw me struggling. She took both my hands and pulled me to my feet. “Yuck! What are those things moving around in your ears?” she cried, making a disgusted face.
“Spiders,” I said quietly.
She swallowed hard. “I sure hope you find something that works.”
“Me too,” I murmured as she guided me to the door.
Carly Beth turned back into the living room. “Don’t eat all the chocolate while we’re gone,” she called to Sabrina.
“It’s only my second piece!” Sabrina protested with her mouth full.
We stepped into the darkness. Some kids in costumes were coming up the driveway, all carrying bulging trick-or-treat bags. “Hey, Carly Beth—where are you going?” a girl called.
“I’m doing a good deed!” Carly Beth replied. “See you guys later!” She turned back to me. “I can’t believe you didn’t listen to me, Steve. You really look disgusting.”
“I can’t even wipe the green gobs out of my nose!” I wailed.
Holding me by the shoulder, she guided me toward my house. We crossed the street onto my block. I heard kids laughing and loud music inside the house on the corner. A Halloween party.
As we passed the house, I stumbled over a moving shadow. Carly Beth caught me before I fell. “What was that?” I cried.
Then I saw it scamper silently across the street. A black cat.
I laughed. What else could I do? I had to laugh.
Go ahead, cat, I thought bitterly. Go ahead and cross my path. I couldn’t have any worse luck—could I?
My house came into view past a row of tall evergreen shrubs. Through the shrubs, I could see that nearly all the downstairs lights were on.
“Are your parents home?” Carly Beth asked, helping me across the grass.
I nodded. “Yeah. They’re home.”
“Do they know about the… uh…”
“No,” I replied. “They think it’s a costume.”
As we stepped onto the front stoop, I could hear Sparky start to bark inside the house. I pushed open the door, and the little dog let out an excited yip and leaped up at me.
His paws landed on my waist and pushed me back hard. I toppled against the wall.
“Down, Sparky! Please! Get down!” I pleaded in my old man’s croak.
I knew Sparky was glad to see me. But I was too feeble for his usual greeting.
“Down, boy! Please!”
Carly Beth finally managed to pull the dog off me so that I could stand up. Then she held onto Sparky until I regained my balance.
“Steve—is that you?” I heard Mom call from the den. “You’re back so early!”
Mom stepped into the living room. She had changed into the gray flannel housedress she usually relaxes in at night, and she had her blond hair in curlers.
“Oh, hi, Carly Beth!” she cried in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting visitors. I—”
“That’s okay, Mom,” I croaked. “We’re only staying a minute. We came back to get something.”
“Don’t you love Steve’s costume?” Mom asked Carly Beth. “Isn’t that the most horrible mask you ever saw?”
“You mean he’s wearing a mask?” Carly Beth joked. She and Mom enjoyed a good laugh.
Sparky sniffed my shoes.
“What did you come back here for?” Mom asked me.
“Those black-and-white cookies,” I replied eagerly. “You know. The ones you bought me yesterday.”
Those cookies were a symbol of love.
Mom had told me how she drove two miles out of her way to buy them for me. She knew they were my favorite cookies in the whole world. And she drove out of her way to buy them because she loves me.
So the cookies were the perfect symbol of love.
I couldn’t wait to bite into one. One bite, I knew—and I’d be able to pull off this horrible mask.
Mom’s face twisted in surprise. She narrowed her eyes, studying me. “You came back here for those cookies? Why? What about all your trick-or-treat candy?”
“Uh… well…” I stammered. My brain stalled. I couldn’t think of a good reason.
“He had a strong craving,” Carly Beth chimed in. “He told me he’s been thinking about those cookies all night.”
“That’s right. I had a craving,” I repeated. “Candy bars can’t compare, Mom. Those cookies are the best.”
“I love them, too,” Carly Beth added. “So I came back with Steve. We want to bring them to my Halloween party.”
Mom tsk-tsked. “What a shame,” she said.
“Huh?” I cried, feeling my heart skip a beat. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”
Mom shook her head. “The cookies are gone,” she replied softly. “The dog found the box this morning and broke into it. I’m sorry, guys. But Sparky ate them all.”
25
Mom’s words sent a cold shiver down my back. I let out a weak moan. And stared down at Sparky.
The dog gazed up at me and began wagging his stubby tail. As if he were pleased with himself!
“You’ve ruined my life, Sparky!” That’s what I felt like screaming. “You greedy pig! Couldn’t you save me just one cookie? Now I’m doomed. Doomed to live with this gross, frightening face forever.”
And all because Sparky loved black-and-white cookies as much as I did.
Still wagging his tail, Sparky ran over to me and brushed his furry, black body against my leg. He wanted to be petted.
Forget it, I thought. No way I’m petting you—you traitor.
I heard Dad calling Mom from the den. “Have fun, guys,” Mom said. She waved to Carly Beth and me and hurried off to see what Dad wanted.
Have fun, guys?
I’m never going to have fun again, I realized.
Feeling weak and defeated, I turned to Carly Beth. “Now what do we do?” I whispered.
“Quick—pick up Sparky,” she whispered back, motioning to the dog with both hands.
“Huh? Do what? I’m never touching this dog again!” I croaked miserably.
Panting hard, his tongue hanging to the floor, Sparky brushed my ankle again.
“Pick him up!” Carly Beth insisted.
“Why?”
“Sparky is your symbol of love!” Carly Beth declared. “Look at him, Steve. Look how much that dog loves you.”
“He loves me so much, he ate all my cookies!” I wailed.
Carly Beth frowned at me. “Forget about the cookies. Pick up the dog. Sparky is your symbol of love. Pick him up and hold him against you. And I’ll bet the mask will come right off.”
“I guess it’s worth a try,” I said softly. I started to pick up the little black terrier. My back creaked as I bent down. My aching knees cracked.
Please work! I pleaded silently. Please let this work!
I reached for Sparky—and he darted through my hands and ran across the carpet toward the den.
“Sparky—come back! Sparky!” I cried, still bent over, still reaching out both hands.
The dog stopped halfway across the living room and turned back.
“Come back, Sparky!” I called in my old man’s quivering voice. “Come back, boy! Come back to Steve!”
His stubby tail started wagging again. He stared at me, head tilted, and didn’t move.
“He’s playing games with me,” I told Carly Beth. “He wants me to chase him.”
I got down on my knees and motioned to Sparky with both hands. “Come, boy! Come! I’m too old to chase you! Come, Sparky!”
To my surprise, the dog let out a yip, ran back across the room, and jumped into my arms.
“Hug him tight, Steve,” Carly Beth urged. “Hug him tight. It’s going to wo
rk. I know it will!”
The little dog felt so heavy in my weak, aching arms. But I held him against my chest. Held him tight.
Held him as tight as I could.
Held him for a long, long time.
And nothing happened.
26
After about a minute, the dog got tired of being squeezed. He jumped out of my arms, bounced over the carpet, and disappeared into the den.
I tugged at the mask with both hands.
But I knew I was wasting my strength. It didn’t feel any different. Nothing had changed. The hideous face was still tightly attached to my head.
Carly Beth put a hand gently on my shoulder. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I guess each mask is different.”
“You mean I need something else to get it off,” I said, shaking my old, spider-infested head sadly.
Carly Beth nodded. “Yes. Something else. But we don’t know what it is.”
I uttered a helpless cry. “I’m doomed!” I wailed. “I can’t even climb up off my knees!”
Carly Beth slid both of her hands under my shoulders and lifted me to my feet. I steadied myself, leaning on the cane.
And then I had an idea.
“The man in the cape,” I croaked. “He’ll know what I can do.”
“You’re right!” Carly Beth’s face brightened. “Yes, you’re right, Steve. He helped me last Halloween. If we go back to the party store, I know he’ll help you!”
She started to pull me to the front door. But I held back. “There’s just one little problem,” I told her.
She turned back to me. “Problem?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I forgot to tell you. The party store is closed. It went out of business.”
We walked there anyway. Well, I didn’t exactly walk. I limped and hobbled, feeling weaker and more feeble every second. Carly Beth practically had to carry me.
The streets stood empty, glimmering dimly under the rows of streetlamps. Lights were going out in all the houses. It was pretty late. All of the trick-or-treaters had gone home.
Two dogs followed us down the street. Big German shepherds. Maybe they thought we’d share our Halloween candy with them. Of course, I didn’t have any Halloween candy.
“Go away,” I snarled at them. “I don’t like dogs anymore. Dogs are useless!”
To my surprise, they seemed to understand. They turned and went loping across a dark front lawn, disappearing around the side of the house.
A few minutes later, we passed the row of small shops and stepped up in front of the party store. Dark. Empty.
“Out of business,” I murmured.
Carly Beth pounded on the front door. I peered into the blue shadows beyond the dusty front window. Nothing moved. No one in there.
“Open up! We need help!” Carly Beth shouted. She banged on the wooden door with both fists.
Silence inside. No one stirred.
A cold wind swept down the street. I shivered. I tried to bury my ugly head in my shoulders. “Let’s go,” I mumbled. Defeated.
Doomed.
Carly Beth refused to give up. She pounded the door with both fists.
I turned away from the window—and gazed at the alley beside the store. “Whoa. Wait,” I called to her. “Come over here.”
I dragged myself to the alley. Carly Beth followed. She rubbed her knuckles. I guess they were sore from pounding so hard on the door.
I could see from the sidewalk that the trapdoor was shut. But I led Carly Beth into the alley. We stopped beside the trapdoor.
“It leads into the basement of the party store,” I explained. “All the masks and other stuff are down there.”
“If we can get down there,” Carly Beth whispered, “maybe we can find a way to help you.”
“Maybe,” I whispered back.
Carly Beth bent down and grabbed the wire handle to the trapdoor. She tugged it up hard.
The door didn’t budge.
“I think it’s locked,” she groaned.
“Try again,” I urged. “It sticks. It’s very hard to open.”
She bent down, grasped the handle in both hands, and pulled again.
This time the door swung up, revealing the concrete stairs that led down to the basement.
“Come on. Hurry, Steve.” Carly Beth tugged my arm.
My last chance, I thought. My last chance.
Trembling, I followed her down into the heavy darkness.
27
We huddled close together as we made our way across the basement floor. Pale light from a streetlamp floated in through the open trapdoor.
Across the room, I heard the steady drip drip drip I’d heard before. The large cartons stood just where Chuck and I had left them. Three or four of them were still open.
“Well. Here we are,” Carly Beth murmured. Her words sounded hollow, echoing softly against the stone basement walls. Her eyes darted around the room, then stopped on me. “Now what?”
I shrugged. “Search through the cartons, maybe?”
I stepped over to the nearest one and peered inside. “This one has all the masks,” I told her. I picked up a monster mask covered in bristly fur.
“Yuck,” Carly Beth groaned. “Put it down. We don’t need another mask.”
I dropped the mask back into the carton. It made a soft plop as it landed on the other masks.
“I don’t know what we need,” I said. “But maybe we can find something…”
“Look at these!” Carly Beth cried. She had pulled open another carton. She held up some kind of jumpsuit. It had a long, pointy tail on the back.
“What’s that?” I demanded, stepping around two cartons to get to her.
“A costume,” she replied. She leaned into the carton and pulled out another one. A pair of furry tights covered with leopard spots. “The box is filled with costumes.”
“Big deal,” I grumbled. “That’s not going to help me.”
I sighed. “Nothing is going to help me.”
Carly Beth didn’t seem to hear me. She leaned over the edge of the box and pulled out another costume. She held it up in front of her. A shiny black suit. Very fancy. Like a tuxedo.
As I stared at it, my face began to tingle.
“Put it down,” I said glumly. “We need to find—”
“Oh, yuck!” Carly Beth cried. “This suit—it’s crawling with spiders!”
“Huh?” I gasped. My face tingled harder. I heard a loud buzzing in my ears. The tingle became an itch.
“Hey, I’ll bet this is the costume that goes with your mask!” Carly Beth declared. She carried it over to me. “See? Spiders and more spiders!”
I scratched my itching cheeks. The itch was quickly becoming painful. I scratched harder.
“Get it away from me! It’s making me itch!” I cried.
Carly Beth ignored my plea. She held the shiny black suit up in front of me, beneath my itching, burning face.
“See? You have the head—and this is the body that goes with it,” she said, holding it against me. Admiring it.
“Put it away!” I shrieked. “My face—it’s burning! Ow!”
I slapped frantically at my cheeks. My forehead. My chin.
“Owwwwww!” I howled. “I feel so weird! What is happening to me?”
28
“It’s burning hot!” I shrieked. “Owwwwww! What is happening?”
I grabbed the sides of my face, trying to soothe away the burning pain.
As I gripped my cheeks, the face began to slide under my hands.
I felt it begin to rise. Up, up.
I pulled my hands away—as the old man’s head slid over my head. Lifted off. Floated up.
Cool air greeted my cheeks. I took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air.
The craggy old head hovered above me for a moment. Then it floated toward the shiny black suit in Carly Beth’s hand.
The head floated down onto the collar of the suit.
Carly Beth let out a startled cry as the su
it’s arms thrashed out. The trouser legs kicked. The suit twitched and squirmed as if trying to break free.
Carly Beth let go of it and jumped back.
A smile spread over the ugly old face. The suit legs lowered themselves to the floor. The old man performed a little dance, arms flapping, trouser legs hopping.
And then he turned away from us. The head attached to the suit. The trouser legs bent at the knees, he shuffled toward the steps.
Carly Beth and I both cried out in shock as the old man climbed up the steps and disappeared out the trapdoor.
We stood there, eyes bulging, mouths wide-open. We stared at the opening at the top of the stairs. Stared in silence. Stared in amazement.
And then we both began to laugh.
We fell on each other, laughing, laughing till tears rolled down our cheeks.
I laughed louder and harder than I had ever laughed. Because I was laughing in my voice. Laughing with my face. My real face.
The old-man face found its body—and escaped.
And now I was me again!
This had to be the best Halloween ever! I had never been so happy in all my life just to have things normal.
Carly Beth and I danced down the street as we made our way home. We sang at the top of our lungs. Sang and twirled each other around.
And danced and strutted down the middle of the street.
We were both so happy!
We were half a block from my house—when the creature leaped out from behind a hedge.
It opened its jaws in a broken-toothed roar.
Carly Beth and I grabbed each other and uttered shrill cries of terror.
The creature had bright purple skin that glowed in the light from the streetlamp. Fiery red eyes. A mouth full of broken, rotting teeth. And a fat, brown worm poking out from the middle of its cheek.
“Huh?” I stared at the worm as it bobbed from the creature’s skin. Stared at the frightening purple face.
And recognized it.
“Chuck!” I cried.
He let out a hoarse laugh from behind the mask. “I gotcha!” he bellowed. “I got both of you! You should have seen the looks on your faces!”
