by R. L. Stine
What is he going to do? Carly Beth wondered, uttering a horrified gasp. Why is he coming at me like that?
What is he going to do to me?
“I am so sorry,” he repeated, his small, dark eyes burning into hers. He took another step closer.
Carly Beth backed away from him. Then she uttered a startled cry as she backed into the display shelves.
The hideous masks jiggled and quaked, as if alive.
“What—what do you mean?” she managed to choke out. “I—I was just—”
“I am sorry you saw these because they are not for sale,” the man said softly.
He stepped past her and straightened one of the masks on its stand.
Carly Beth breathed a loud sigh of relief. He didn’t mean to scare me, she told herself. I am scaring myself.
She crossed her arms in front of her coat and tried to force her heartbeat to return to normal. She stepped to the side as the store owner continued to arrange the masks, handling them carefully, brushing their hair with one hand, tenderly dusting off their bulging, blood-covered foreheads.
“Not for sale? Why not?” Carly Beth demanded. Her voice came out tiny and shrill.
“Too scary,” the man replied. He turned to smile at her.
“But I want a really scary one,” Carly Beth told him. “I want that one.” She pointed to the mask she had touched, the mask with the open mouth and its terrifying, jagged fangs.
“Too scary,” the man repeated, pushing his cape behind his shoulder.
“But it’s Halloween!” Carly Beth protested.
“I have a really scary gorilla mask,” the man said, motioning for Carly Beth to go back to the front room. “Very scary. Looks like it’s growling. I will give you a good price on it since it’s so late.”
Carly Beth shook her head, her arms crossed defiantly in front of her. “A gorilla mask won’t scare Steve and Chuck,” she said.
The man’s expression changed. “Who?”
“My friends,” she told him. “I have to have that one,” she insisted. “It’s so scary, I’m almost afraid to touch it. It’s perfect.”
“It’s too scary,” the man repeated, lowering his eyes to it. He ran his hand over the green forehead. “I can’t take the responsibility.”
“It’s so real looking!” Carly Beth gushed. “They’ll both faint. I know they will. Then they’ll never try to scare me again.”
“Young lady—” the store owner started, glancing impatiently at his watch. “I really must insist that you make up your mind. I am a patient man, but—”
“Please!” Carly Beth begged. “Please sell it to me! Here. Look.” She dug into her jeans pocket and pulled out the money she had brought.
“Young lady, I—”
“Thirty dollars,” Carly Beth said, shoving the wadded-up bills into the man’s hand. “I’ll give you thirty dollars for it. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
“It’s not a matter of money,” he told her. “These masks are not for sale.” With an exasperated sigh, he started toward the doorway that led to the front of the store.
“Please! I need it. I really need it!” Carly Beth begged, chasing after him.
“These masks are too real,” he insisted, gesturing to the shelves. “I’m warning you—”
“Please? Please?”
He shut his eyes. “You will be sorry.”
“No, I won’t. I won’t. I know I won’t!” Carly Beth exclaimed gleefully, seeing that he was about to give in.
He opened his eyes. He shook his head. She could see that he was debating with himself.
With a sigh, he tucked the money into his coat pocket. Then he carefully lifted the mask from the shelf, straightening the pointed ears, and started to hand it to her.
“Thanks!” she cried, eagerly snatching the mask from his hands. “It’s perfect! Perfect!”
She held the mask by the flat nose. It felt soft and surprisingly warm. “Thanks again!” she cried, hurrying to the front, the mask gripped tightly in her hand.
“Can I give you a bag for it?” the man called after her.
But Carly Beth was already out of the store.
She crossed the street and started to run toward home. The sky was black. No stars poked through. The street still glistened wetly from the afternoon’s rain.
This is going to be the best trick-or-treat night ever, Carly Beth thought happily. Because this is the night I get my revenge.
She couldn’t wait to spring out at Steve and Chuck. She wondered what their costumes would be. They had both talked about painting their faces blue and dyeing their hair blue and being Smurfs.
Lame. Really lame.
Carly Beth stopped under a streetlight and held up the mask, gripping it with both hands by its pointed ears. It grinned up at her, the two crooked rows of fangs hanging over its thick, rubbery lips.
Then, tucking it carefully under one arm, she ran the rest of the way home.
Stopping at the bottom of the driveway, she gazed up at her house, the front windows all glowing brightly, the porchlight sending white light over the lawn.
I’ve got to try this mask out on someone, she thought eagerly. I’ve got to see just how good it is.
Her brother’s grinning face popped into her mind.
“Noah. Of course,” she said aloud. “Noah has really been asking for it.”
Grinning gleefully, Carly Beth hurried up the drive, eager to make Noah her first victim.
10
Carly Beth crept silently through the front door and tossed her coat onto the entryway floor. The house felt stuffy and hot. A sweet smell, the aroma of hot cider on the stove, greeted her.
Mom really gets into holidays, she thought with a smile.
Tiptoeing through the front hallway, holding the mask in front of her, Carly Beth listened hard.
Noah, where are you?
Where are you, my little guinea pig?
Noah was always bragging about how he was so much braver than Carly Beth. He was always putting bugs down her back and planting rubber snakes in her bed—anything he could think of to make her scream.
She heard footsteps above her head. Noah must be up in his room, she realized. He’s probably putting on his Halloween costume.
At the last minute, Noah had decided he wanted to be a cockroach. Mrs. Caldwell had dashed frantically all over the house, finding the materials to build pointy feelers and a hard shell for his back.
Well, the little bug is in for a surprise, Carly Beth thought evilly. She examined her mask. This should send that cockroach scampering under the sink!
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She could hear loud music coming from Noah’s room. An old heavy-metal song.
Gripping the mask by the rubbery neck, she raised it carefully over her head, then pulled it slowly down.
It was surprisingly warm inside. The mask fit tighter than Carly Beth had imagined. It had a funny smell, kind of sour, kind of old, like damp newspapers that have been left for years in an attic or garage.
She slid it all the way down until she could see through the eyeholes. Then she smoothed the bulging, bald head over her head and tugged the neck down.
I should have stopped in front of a mirror, she fretted. I can’t see if it looks right.
The mask felt very tight. Her breathing echoed noisily in the flat nose. She forced herself to ignore the sour smell that invaded her nose.
She held on tightly to the banister as she crept up the stairs. It was hard to see the steps through the eyeholes. She had to take the climb slowly, one step at a time.
The heavy-metal music ended as she stepped onto the landing. She crept silently down the hall and stopped outside Noah’s door.
Carly Beth edged her head into the doorway and peeked into the brightly lit room. Noah was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the two long cockroach feelers above his head.
“Noah—I’m coming for you!” Carly Beth called.
To her surprise, he
r voice came out gruff and low. It wasn’t her voice at all!
“Huh?” Startled, Noah spun around.
“Noah—I’ve got you!” Carly Beth shrieked, her voice deep, raspy, evil.
“No!” her brother uttered a hushed cry of protest. Even under his bug makeup, Carly Beth could see him go pale.
She darted into the room, her arms outstretched as if ready to grab him.
“No—please!” he cried, his expression terrified. “Who are you? How—how did you get in?”
He doesn’t even recognize me! Carly Beth thought gleefully.
And he’s scared to death!
Was it the hideous face? The deep rumble of a voice? Or both?
Carly Beth didn’t care. The mask was definitely a success!
“I’ve GOT you!” she screamed, surprising herself at how scary her voice sounded from inside the mask.
“No! Please!” Noah begged. “Mom! Mom!” He backed toward the bed, trembling all over, his feelers quivering in fright. “Mom! Hellllp!”
Carly Beth burst out laughing. The laughter came out in a deep rumble. “It’s me, stupid!” she cried. “What a yellow-bellied scaredy-cat!”
“Huh?” Still huddled by the bed, Noah stared hard at her.
“Don’t you recognize my jeans? My sweater? It’s me, you idiot!” Carly Beth declared in the gruff voice.
“But your face—that mask!” Noah stammered. “It—it really scared me. I mean—” He gaped at her, studying the mask. “It didn’t sound like you, Carly Beth,” he muttered. “I thought—”
Carly Beth tugged at the bottom of the mask, trying to lift it off. It felt hot and sticky. She was panting noisily.
She tried pulling the bottom with both hands. The mask didn’t budge.
She raised her hands to the pointed ears and tried lifting it off. She tugged. Tugged harder.
She tried pulling the mask off by the top of the head. It didn’t move.
“Hey—it won’t come off!” she cried. “The mask—it won’t come off!”
11
“What’s going on here?” Carly Beth cried, tugging at the mask with both hands.
“Stop it!” Noah cried. His voice sounded angry, but his eyes revealed fear. “Stop kidding around, Carly Beth. You’re scaring me!”
“I’m not kidding around,” Carly Beth insisted in her harsh, raspy voice. “I really can’t—get—this—off!”
“Take it off! You’re not funny!” her brother shouted.
With great effort, Carly Beth managed to slip her fingers under the neck of the mask. Then, she pulled it away from her skin and lifted it off her head.
“Whew!”
The air felt so cool and sweet. She shook her hair free. Then she playfully tossed the mask at Noah. “Good mask, huh?” She grinned at him.
He let the mask bounce onto the bed. Then he picked it up hesitantly and examined it. “Where’d you get it?” he asked, poking a finger against the ugly fangs.
“At that new party store,” she told him, wiping perspiration from her forehead. “It’s so hot inside it.”
“Can I try it on?” Noah asked, pushing his fingers through the eyeholes.
“Not now. I’m late,” she replied sharply. She laughed. “You sure looked scared.”
He tossed the mask back at her, frowning. “I was just pretending,” he said. “I knew it was you.”
“For sure!” she replied, rolling her eyes. “That’s why you screamed like a maniac.”
“I did not scream,” Noah protested. “I was just putting on an act. For you.”
“Yeah. Right,” Carly Beth muttered. She turned and headed toward the door, rolling the mask over her hand.
“How’d you change your voice like that?” Noah called after her.
Carly Beth stopped at the doorway and turned back to him. Her smile gave way to a puzzled expression.
“That deep voice was the scariest part,” Noah said, staring at the mask in her hand. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” Carly Beth replied thoughtfully. “I really don’t know.”
* * *
By the time she got to her room, she was grinning again. The mask had worked. It had been a wonderful success.
Noah might not want to admit it, but when Carly Beth burst in on him, growling through the hideous mask, he nearly jumped out of his cockroach shell.
Look out, Chuck and Steve! she thought gleefully. You’re next!
She sat down on her bed and glanced at the clock radio on her bed table. She had a few minutes until it was time to meet everyone in front of Sabrina’s house.
Time enough to think of the best possible way to give them the scare of their lives.
I don’t want to just jump out at them, Carly Beth thought, playing her fingers over the sharp fangs. That’s too boring.
I want to do something they’ll remember.
Something they’ll never forget.
She ran her hands over the mask’s pointy ears. Suddenly she had an idea.
12
Carly Beth pulled the old broom handle from the closet. She brushed off a thick ball of dust and examined the long, wooden pole.
Perfect, she thought.
She checked to make sure her mother was still in the kitchen. She was sure that her mother wouldn’t approve of what Carly Beth was about to do. Mrs. Caldwell still thought that Carly Beth was going to wear the duck costume.
Tiptoeing silently into the living room, Carly Beth stepped up to the mantel and pulled down the plaster of Paris head her mother had sculpted.
It really does look just like me, Carly Beth thought, holding the sculpture waist high and studying it carefully. It’s so lifelike. Mom is really talented.
Carefully, she placed the head on the broomstick. It balanced easily.
She carried it over to the hallway mirror. It looks like I’m carrying my real head on a stick, Carly Beth thought, admiring it. A wide grin broke out across her face. Her eyes sparkled gleefully.
Excellent!
She leaned the head and stick against the wall and pulled on the mask. Once again, the sour aroma rushed into her nostrils. The heat of the mask seemed to wrap around her.
The mask tightened against her skin as she pulled it down.
Raising her eyes to the mirror, she nearly frightened herself! It’s like a real face, she thought, unable to take her eyes away. My eyes seem a part of it. It doesn’t look as if I’m peering out of eyeholes.
She moved the gruesome mouth up and down a few times. It moves like a real mouth, she realized.
It doesn’t look like a mask at all.
It looks like a gross, deformed face.
Working with both hands, she flattened the bulging forehead, smoothing it over her hair.
Excellent! she repeated to herself, feeling her excitement grow. Excellent!
The mask is perfect! she decided. She couldn’t believe the man in the party store didn’t want to sell it to her. It was the scariest, realest, ugliest mask she had ever seen.
I will be the terror of Maple Avenue tonight! Carly Beth decided, admiring herself in the mirror. Kids will be having nightmares about me for weeks!
Especially Chuck and Steve, she told herself.
“Boo!” she muttered to herself, pleased to hear that the gruff voice had returned. “I’m ready.”
She picked up the broomstick, carefully balanced her sculpted head on top of it, and started to the door.
Her mother’s voice stopped her. “Carly Beth—wait up,” Mrs. Caldwell called from the kitchen. “I want to see how you look in that duck costume!”
“Uh-oh,” Carly Beth groaned out loud. “Mom isn’t going to like this.”
13
Carly Beth froze in the doorway. She could hear her mother’s footsteps approaching in the hallway.
“Let me see you, dear,” Mrs. Caldwell called. “Did the costume fit?”
Maybe I should’ve told her about my change of plans, Carly Beth thought guiltily. I w
ould’ve said something, but I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings.
Now she’s in for a shock. And she’s going to be really angry when she sees I’ve borrowed her sculpture.
She’s going to make me put it back on the mantel.
She’s going to ruin everything.
“I’m kind of in a hurry, Mom,” Carly Beth called, her voice deep and raspy inside the mask. “I’ll see you later, okay?” She pulled open the front door.
“You can wait one second while I see my costume on you,” her mother called. She rounded the corner and came into view.
I’m sunk, Carly Beth thought with a groan.
I’m caught.
The phone rang. The sound echoed loudly inside Carly Beth’s mask.
Her mother stopped and turned back to the kitchen. “Oh, darn. I’d better answer that. It’s probably your father calling from Chicago.” She disappeared back to the kitchen. “I’ll have to see you later, Carly Beth. Be careful, okay?”
Carly Beth breathed a sigh of relief. Saved by the bell, she thought.
Balancing the head on the broomstick, she hurried out the door. She closed the door behind her and jogged down the front yard.
It had become a clear, cool night. A pale half-moon rose low over the bare trees. Fat brown leaves swirled around her ankles as she headed to the sidewalk.
The plan was to meet Chuck and Steve in front of Sabrina’s house. Carly Beth couldn’t wait.
Her head bobbed and bounced on the broomstick as she ran. The house on the corner had been decorated for Halloween. Orange lights ran along the top of the stoop. Two large, smiling pumpkin cutouts stood beside the doorway. A cardboard skeleton had been propped up at the end of the front walk.
I love Halloween! Carly Beth thought happily. She crossed the street onto Sabrina’s block.
On other Halloween nights, she had been frightened. Her friends were always playing mean tricks on her. Last year, Steve had slipped a very real-looking rubber rat into her trick-or-treat bag.
When Carly Beth had reached into the bag, she felt something soft and hairy. She pulled out the rat and shrieked at the top of her lungs. She was so scared, she spilled her candy all over the driveway.
