Table of Contents
Chapter 1: It Was a Dark and Stormy Night
Chapter 2: Who Ghosts There?
Chapter 3: A Cat Named Tiger
Chapter 4: The Longest Day Ever
Chapter 5: Liz Gets Lost!
Chapter 6: Last One Awake
Chapter 7: Things That Go Flap in the Night
Chapter 8: Unexpected Visitors
Chapter 9: The Escape Route
Chapter 10: The Haunted Museum
‘Marion and the Secret Letter’ Excerpt
About Callie Barkley and Tracy Bishop
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night
Liz Jenkins turned on her flashlight. She held it up to her chin so it illuminated just her face.
It was silent and shadowy in Liz’s bedroom. Her best friends Ellie, Amy, and Marion waited for Liz to begin her story.
“It was a dark and stormy night,” Liz said in a low voice.
“Uh-oh,” said Amy. She pulled her sleeping bag up to her nose. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
Ellie giggled. “Stormy nights are always the spookiest!”
Marion yawned. “I think I’ve heard this one before,” she said sleepily.
“Outside, lightning flashed,” Liz continued. “Thunder clapped. But inside one house, four girls were having a sleepover.”
“Just like us!” Ellie whispered.
Liz went on. “They were all in their sleeping bags. One of the girls had just finished telling a story. It was a scary story about a ghost, with rattling, clattering footsteps roaming her house at night.”
Now Amy’s sleeping bag was covering her head. She let out a squeak from inside.
“Don’t worry,” Marion gently told Amy. “It’s just a story.”
Liz suddenly flicked off her flashlight. The bedroom went completely dark.
“All of a sudden, one of the girls gasped,” Liz went on. “‘What was that?’ the girl cried. The others listened. They heard it too!” Liz stomped her foot on the ground. “Thwump—rattle. Thwump—rattle. Rattling, clattering footsteps! Coming from the other side of the bedroom door!”
Marion sat up straight. “Shhh!” she said, suddenly wide-awake. “Did you hear that?”
Liz looked confused. “Hear what?” she replied. Then she smiled. “Oooh. Nice one, Marion. Trying to scare the storyteller.”
Marion shook her head. Her eyes were wide in alarm. “No. Listen!”
The four girls sat silently, listening.
They all heard it. Thwump—rattle. Thwump—rattle. Thwump—rattle. Each time it was a little louder.
“Rattling, clattering footsteps!” Liz whispered.
“Coming closer,” Ellie said shakily.
Amy stayed hidden inside her sleeping bag. “Is it coming from the hallway?” she asked.
Liz flicked her flashlight back on. She aimed the beam at her bedroom door. Liz, Ellie, and Marion watched it, trying not to blink.
Thwump—rattle. Thwump—rattle. Louder and louder, until . . .
Silence.
And then, slowly, Liz’s doorknob turned.
Who Ghosts There?
Ellie screamed.
Marion buried her head in her pillow.
Liz dropped her flashlight. It hit the floor and clicked off. She felt around in the darkness, trying to find it.
Amy couldn’t see anything from inside her sleeping bag. “What?” she called out. “What’s going on?”
Suddenly, the bedroom light went on. Liz, Marion, and Ellie looked up. Amy peeked out of her sleeping bag.
Standing in the doorway was Liz’s mom.
“Did I startle you?” she said gently. She was holding a tray with glasses of milk and some oatmeal cookies. “I’m sorry. I just came to see if you wanted a snack.”
Mrs. Jenkins stepped into the room. With each step: Thwump. The glasses on the tray knocked together: Rattle.
Thwump—rattle. Thwump—rattle. Thwump—rattle.
She put the tray down on Liz’s dresser. Then she walked out.
The girls looked at one another. “A ghost that brings us snacks!” Ellie exclaimed.
They all burst out laughing.
“I guess we were a little jumpy,” Marion said.
“I sure was!” Amy chimed in. “No more spooky stories for tonight. Okay?”
“Agreed!” said Liz. “We’ll save them for the museum sleepover next Friday.”
The girls had signed up for Night at the Museum. It was a once-a-year event at the Santa Vista Art and History Museum. At closing time, about twenty-five kids got to stay and do fun activities in the museum. Best of all, they would spend the night there!
“Did you know we were the first ones to sign up?” Liz said proudly.
Ellie laughed. “You made sure of that, Liz!”
Liz took an art history class at the museum every Saturday. One week, the teacher, Ms. Bunn, had passed out flyers about the event. Liz was so excited she called Ellie, Amy, and Marion as soon as she got home. They wanted to sign up too!
“And Ms. Bunn is going to be one of the chaperones!” Liz told them.
Liz gasped.
“I almost forgot!” she said. “This morning, in class, Ms. Bunn told me she stopped by The Critter Club. She went to meet Tiger.”
Tiger was the name the girls had given to a shy stray cat they’d found. They had taken him to The Critter Club, the animal shelter they ran in their friend Ms. Sullivan’s barn. The girls had been trying to find Tiger a home for weeks.
“And the best part is,” Liz continued, “Ms. Bunn wants to adopt him!”
The girls cheered.
“And she said she could come pick him up tomorrow morning,” Liz said. “Can we all go meet her at The Critter Club?”
The girls nodded.
Ellie snapped her fingers. “It’ll be perfect! She can ask us anything she needs to know about cats. And we can ask her all about the museum sleepover!”
“Like whether we’ll get to sleep in the temple in the Egyptian Wing!” said Marion.
“Or in the planetarium under the starry dome!” Amy said.
Liz imagined drifting off to sleep in a room filled with beautiful paintings. Would she dream about art? Would she even be able to fall asleep? First things first, Liz thought. I have to get to sleep tonight so Friday will come sooner!
A Cat Named Tiger
After breakfast on Sunday Liz’s dad gave the girls a ride to The Critter Club. They had to look all over the barn for Tiger. Finally they found him hiding under a cabinet.
“Come on out, boy,” Amy said sweetly.
Marion patted her lap gently.
“Here, kitty-kitty-kitty,” sang Ellie.
Liz found Tiger’s favorite cat toy—a fabric bird on the end of a string. She dangled it so the bird hovered just above the floor.
But Tiger did not come out.
“Hello?” came a voice from the doorway. The girls turned to see a tall woman wearing flowy pants and a head scarf. She waved. A few silver bracelets jangled on her wrist.
“Ms. Bunn!” Liz cried. She ran over. “Everyone, this is Ms. Bunn from the museum!”
Liz introduced her to Ellie, Amy, and Marion.
“Nice to meet you!” Ms. Bunn said. “And I’m so impressed by The Critter Club. When Liz told me about little Tiger, I thought it must be a sign. I’ve been without a pet for years!”
Liz put her hands on her hips. “Well, this little Tiger is being extra shy today,” she said. Liz showed Ms. Bunn where the cat was hiding.
“Usually we can get him to come out,” Marion said. “But nothing is working.”
Ms. Bunn opened her bag. “Maybe I can try,” she said. “I brought him a little present.�
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Ms. Bunn took out a small foil packet. She opened it and put it down on the ground.
In a flash Tiger ran over. He pounced on the foil, sniffed, and began to lick the contents.
“Wow!” Liz cried. “What is that?”
Ms. Bunn smiled. “Tuna fish. I guess he likes it!”
Within minutes Tiger had eaten it all. He inched over to Ms. Bunn and sniffed at her jangly bracelets. Then he rubbed his head against her arm.
“I guess he likes you, too!” Ellie said.
The girls gathered some supplies for Ms. Bunn to take with her: cat food, kitty litter, Tiger’s cat toys.
Ms. Bunn thanked them and told them not to worry. “I’ve had many cats over the years,” she said. “Some of them were also shy. But we understood each other.”
The girls watched as the cat let Ms. Bunn pet him. He purred softly. “Well,” said Marion. “Sounds like you two are a purr-fect match!” She giggled.
“We’ve been calling him Tiger,” Amy said. “But maybe you want to name him?”
Ms. Bunn smiled. “I did have a name in mind,” she said. “Picasso. After Pablo Picasso, my favorite artist.”
Liz gasped. “I love Picasso too!” she cried. “Ooh! Isn’t there a part of the museum with some Picasso paintings? Can we go there on Friday?”
“Where will we be sleeping?” Amy chimed in.
“And what should we bring?” Marion asked.
“What time is lights-out?” Ellie asked. “Or can we stay up all night?”
Ms. Bunn laughed. “So many questions!” she cried. “I’ll try to answer them all.” She sat down with Tiger-now-Picasso on her lap and began.
The Longest Day Ever
Liz’s week flew by. Before she knew it, it was Thursday night and time to pack. They’d leave for the museum on Friday right after school!
Ms. Bunn had given the girls a helpful packing list. Many of the items made it sound like they were packing for camp.
But in other ways it was different. No bug spray. No hiking shoes. No bathing suit. You didn’t need much for camping indoors!
Liz checked off all the items. Her bag was just about full. She tossed in a granola bar for a snack. Then she spotted her sketch pad and colored pencils on her desk. She packed those, too.
On Friday morning Liz hurried into school. She was ready to get the school day started . . . and finished! Then they’d be off to the museum.
Liz dove into her morning work. It was a worksheet on telling time. I wish I could tell time, Liz thought. I’d tell it to go faster! She looked up at the clock. The hands had barely moved since she’d gotten to school!
On the spelling test, all the words had the long e sound.
“The next word is sleep,” Mrs. Sienna said.
Liz wrote the word and kept on going: sleepover. She realized just in time and erased the last four letters.
During writing time Liz worked on her biography of Eleanor Roosevelt. Or she tried to. Twice she realized she was doodling, not writing.
Liz usually loved reading group. But she kept losing her place in her book. It was so hard to concentrate!
At lunch she sat near Ellie, Marion, and Amy. But they couldn’t talk much about the sleepover. There were other kids at their table too. Liz didn’t want them to feel left out.
Even art class—her favorite—seemed to drag on. She liked how her pinch pot was turning out. But it made her wish she were at the museum, looking at the ceramics collection.
Finally, after the longest hour of math ever, it was time for dismissal!
Out front, the girls spotted Liz’s mom pulling up in her van. “Ready to go?” Mrs. Jenkins called out the window.
Liz slid the back door open. “I’ve been ready all day!” she replied. The girls climbed in.
Mrs. Jenkins had already stopped by each girl’s house to pick up her things. So they headed right to the museum.
When they were almost there, Liz cried out, “Oh, no! I forgot Elly!”
Ellie tapped Liz on her shoulder. “Uh . . . I’m right here.”
Liz laughed and shook her head. “No,” she said. “I mean Elly, my stuffed elephant.”
Her friends knew that Elly too. Liz had had her since she was three. She liked to sleep with her at night. Especially when she was away from home.
Ellie Mitchell gave Liz’s hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it,” she said.
“We’ll all be together,” Amy added.
“Besides,” said Marion, “it’s a museum. Not a haunted house.”
Liz Gets Lost!
“Wow,” Liz whispered to Ellie. “It’s so quiet in here.”
Ms. Bunn was leading the sleepover group on a museum tour. For some, it was their first time at the museum.
Liz, on the other hand, had been there lots of times. But she was used to seeing it crowded. And hearing it crowded. Sure, people tried to be quiet in a museum. But lots of people trying to be quiet is still pretty loud.
Now their group was the only one in the whole museum. In the silence, every little noise seemed big. Their footsteps echoed off the marble walls. Ms. Bunn dropped her pen. It clickety-clacked across the shiny floor.
There were twenty other kids besides Liz and her friends. Each group of four had a chaperone. Ms. Bunn was the chaperone for Liz and her friends.
“How is Picasso doing?” Liz asked Ms. Bunn as they walked.
“Very well!” Ms. Bunn replied. “He found his favorite hiding places in my house. Under my bed. Or behind the sofa. But he always comes out for snacks.”
Ms. Bunn moved quickly through the exhibits. “We’ll have more time to look at things in the morning,” she told the group. “For now, just take it all in. Think about what you want to come back to.”
They walked through the sculpture garden. They moved on through Early American Quilts and into Twentieth-Century Inventors. Then they headed into the painting galleries.
These were Liz’s favorite rooms. One room was filled with watercolor paintings. In the next room were oil paintings from the 1600s.
When they got to the Modern Art Wing, Liz stopped. This was where the Picasso paintings and other abstract art were.
Some of the artwork was so simple.
Other pieces were complicated. Liz thought they weren’t so much paintings of things but of feelings.
Like anger. Or joy. Or sadness.
Liz looked around. Where was everyone? Suddenly, she was all alone in the gallery.
“Hello?” Liz called. Only her own voice echoed back at her.
Uh-oh, I’d better find the group! Liz thought.
Liz hurried on to the next room. There was no one there. Beyond that room, Liz had to make a choice. Go left to Rocks and Gems? Or go right to Age of Dinosaurs?
Liz thought she heard a noise from the right. So she went that way. “Hello?” she called again.
The room was dim. A few small lights shone up from beneath the T. rex skeleton. They cast long shadows onto the ceiling. Liz could see outlines of dark figures. But as her eyes adjusted, she realized they were models of dinosaurs. Not people.
She had picked the wrong way. She turned to go back toward Rocks and Gems. Just as she did, she heard something.
A scratchy, scraping sound.
Liz whipped back around. It had definitely come from inside Age of Dinosaurs. But where? It was hard to tell. Liz scanned the room again. Everything was absolutely still.
Liz stared at the T. rex. It stared back, motionless.
Then Liz slowly backed out of the room.
Last One Awake
On the other side of Rocks and Gems, Liz found the group in the Great Hall. It was a big room right in the center of the museum. Medieval tapestries hung from the walls. The furniture was dark wood with lots of carvings. A few suits of armor stood at attention.
“Where were you?” Amy asked Liz.
“I was looking at paintings,” Liz explained. “Then I took a wrong turn. And it was kind of weird. I hea
rd a—”
“Okay! Attention, everybody!” Ms. Bunn called out.
Liz stopped talking so she could listen.
“This is where we’ll be sleeping,” Ms. Bunn said. “Everyone find a spot and unpack your belongings!”
As she excitedly unrolled her sleeping bag and unpacked, Liz forgot all about the mysterious noise.
Soon Ms. Bunn led everyone into the museum cafeteria for dinner. They each got to top their own personal-size pizza. And they even had tofu pepperoni as a topping choice. Liz couldn’t believe it. That was her favorite!
After dinner the group got to see the 3-D space show in the planetarium. With popcorn!
Then it was time to get ready for bed. The girls changed into pajamas and brushed their teeth in the bathroom.
Back in the Great Hall, Liz got out her sketch pad and pencils. She worked on a sketch of one of the suits of armor until it was time for lights-out.
“Have your flashlights handy,” called Ms. Bunn, who was standing by the light switch. Then there was a loud click. The overhead lights went out. “Good night, everyone!”
“Nighty-night, you guys,” Ellie whispered to her friends.
“Sweet dreams!” Marion said.
“Sleep well,” Amy added.
“If I can sleep at all,” Liz said. “This is just so cool.”
Liz lay there for a while with her eyes wide open. She listened to the silence all around her. The big museum silence.
Now and then someone would cough. Or roll over in their sleeping bag. But soon all Liz could hear was breathing and quiet snores.
Liz's Night at the Museum Page 1
