by James Howe
“A sign that something terrible is going to happen,” Chester replied.
Howie shook his head. “I’ve seen signs like that,” he muttered, “NO DOGS ALLOWED. Don’t you hate that one? And, oh, here’s one that really means something terrible is going to happen: DON’T WALK, when the hydrant is on the other side of the street.”
Chester pretended to ignore Howie. “Come on, you two,” he said. Apparently, he was unimpressed by the fact that I had both my front paws over my face and was loudly snoring.
“Stop faking, Harold,” he said, tapping my eyelids. “Open up. Let’s go.”
Much against my will, I followed Chester and the relentlessly energetic Howie into the front hall. It was then that the clock struck three and the rain suddenly stopped.
“Look!” Chester commanded. “There, by the front door.”
I looked, but I didn’t see anything I’d call an omen. I told Chester so.
“Look again,” was his response.
And then I saw it.
There, next to the umbrella stand, was Chester’s cat carrier. It was open.
“What’s that doing there?” I asked.
“And what does it mean?” said Howie.
I felt myself begin to quiver. “It resembles an open mouth,” I sniveled. “It means . . . it means . . . we’re all going to have oral surgery! Well, I’m not going! I don’t care how cute the dentist is.”
“Harold!” Chester snapped. “Nobody’s having oral surgery.”
“Oh. Well, that’s a relief.”
“But it does mean we’re going somewhere and I don’t think we’re going to like it.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“ ‘We would have heard about it if it was anything good. You know what the Monroes are like. They tell us everything. But no one has said a word, so it must be a place too . . . horrible . . . to talk about.”
There was a scuffling sound in the living room. We turned. Bunnicula was hopping about nervously in his cage. His eyes glistened in the dark.
I ran to him. “Don’t worry, little furry friend,” I said. “Nothing terrible is going to happen.”
“Mark my words,” Chester said, “we are doomed.”
MARK DAVIS
James Howe says:
“Back in the Olden Days, before there were such things as cable television or DVDs, I loved staying up late at night to watch old horror movies on TV. My favorites were the ones about hollow-eyed vampires and torch-bearing peasants, or those with mad scientists whose accents fell somewhere between Upper Mongolia and the Bronx. Nighty-Nightmare came out of the affection I still feel for those movies and the laughs—along with the chills—they gave me. Chester’s story of how Bunnicula traveled from Transylvania to America is a spoof of just about every old horror movie I ever saw!”
James Howe is the author of more than seventy books for young readers, including the popular and award-winning series about Bunnicula and his friends. Among his other books are the Pinky and Rex series, The Misfits, Totally Joe, and the Sebastian Barth mysteries. James did not enjoy camping when he was a boy, but he did always wish he had a pet skunk. He still does wish this at times, but for the most part he’s happy with the dog and two cats who share his home in New York State.
