A Babysitter's Guide to Monster Hunting [Book 2]

by Joe Ballarini

  “Veronica asked me to fill in for another sitter.”

  She followed me into the kitchen. “Kelly, your father and I are very proud of how hard you’re working, but don’t you think it’s too much?”

  “My grades are fine.”

  “I know. But look at you. The bags under your eyes. You look exhausted, honey.”

  “Haven’t you heard?” I said. “Dark circles and pale skin are the latest fashion.”

  Steam rose from the hot water as I scrubbed the dishes. I felt my mother’s stare fix on me.

  “You’re only young once, Kelly,” my mom said. “Enjoy it. Before you know it, you’ll have a family of your own. For now, just be a kid.”

  But I don’t wanna just be a kid. Kids are small and puny, and they can’t drive cars and they can’t protect the ones they love from all the monsters in the world.

  “I’m just trying to save up enough cash to go to Camp Miskatonic, Mom. So, if you think about it, all these babysitting jobs are so I can enjoy my childhood. Towel, please.”

  My mother finally relented, and later, she drove me to Middletown to my babysitting job. Ice streaked the windows, warping the passing houses’ Christmas decorations into wavy rainbows. My phone buzzed. Babysitter group text:

  CURTIS:

  Just heard on police scanner. A blood truck got jacked last night!

  CASSIE:

  Waaaaaaat?

  CURTIS:

  Driver said small men wearing carnival masks did it.

  BERNA:

  Think it’s Toadies?

  KELLY:

  Nope. Crushed ’em all. ;)

  BERNA:

  Trolls?

  CASSIE:

  Guide says Trolls don’t do blood.

  BERN:

  Maybe 4 someone else?

  “What’s this about a van picking you and your friends up after school?” my mom said.

  “Huh?” I said. “Oh. That’s Veronica’s car. I told you about that. It’s a clunker.”

  “You know, you can always talk to me or your father,” my mom said in a concerned tone.

  “One second, Mom.”

  KELLY:

  Saw on news a monster attacked cows.

  BERNA:

  2 m-incidents in 1 night? They’re up 2 something.

  CURTIS:

  4 sure.

  CASSIE:

  I blame Kelly.

  KELLY:

  Hey!

  BERNA:

  Not nice, Cassie.

  CASSIE:

  Hey is for horses. Be on alert.

  “Look. I get it,” my mom said in her “I’m trying to be cool” voice. “I was thirteen once. It’s a really weird time. Hormones. Your body is changing. Boys . . .”

  I deleted the texts and let out a huge moan. “Puh-lease, Mother. Not this.”

  “Not what?”

  “The Talk. I don’t need The Talk.”

  “Don’t get huffy, Miss Thing. I’m just saying that last month you hated babysitting. Now it’s all you do.”

  “Because you made me do it!” I snapped. “Remember when I just wanted to go to a stupid Halloween party, but you begged me to babysit your boss’s kid!”

  “Do not yell at me. I will turn this car around right now.”

  “I’m not yelling. I’m speaking with passion!”

  It scared me how easily my anger flared up. It was good when hunting monsters but bad when trying to communicate with your parents.

  “What is going on with you?” my mom said in a quiet voice.

  “Nothing,” I whispered.

  But it wasn’t nothing. Maybe Cassie was right. Maybe all of these monster incidents were somehow happening because of me. That’s what I was really angry about, not my mom trying to talk with me.

  We drove the rest of the way in silence. The tension was unbearable so I flicked on the radio.

  “Bundle up, Rhode Island, it looks like winter’s first nor’easter is on its way.”

  “Hopefully, tomorrow will be a snow day,” I sighed.

  “For both of us,” Mom said.

  We entered a street of sprawling apartment complexes. A sign read “Welcome to Dakota Apartments.” We passed rows and rows of the exact same buildings. Redbrick on the bottom, aluminum siding on top. The whole compound felt a little bleak and desolate.

  “Who are you sitting for this time?” my mom said, squinting at the buildings.

  I checked the info Mama Vee sent. “A woman named Dawn Harker and her son, Theodore.”

  “What do you know about her?”

  “Just that she needs a babysitter, and she lives in building twenty-five, apartment two.”

  My mom made a disapproving grunt and parked in front of building twenty-five. Red bricks on the bottom, aluminum siding on top.

  “Go and check it out, and if you get a weird vibe, give me a signal and I’ll come get you.”

  I rolled my eyes, but I was secretly thankful for my mother’s protective instincts. The sameness of the buildings reminded me more of a prison yard than a neighborhood. There was a single glowing Santa all alone in the front yard. Even jolly old Saint Nick looked miserable. I grabbed my backpack, pecked my mom on the cheek, and ran through the cold to a door with the number two stenciled on it.

  After I jammed the buzzer a few times, the door flung open, and a woman wearing a burgundy Food Time uniform with a name tag that read “Dawn” screamed in delight.

  “Thank God you’re here! Are you Kelly? You’re Kelly, right? Gosh, you’re young. Come in, come in, it’s freezing out here. Is that your mom? Hi, Kelly’s mom! Thanks for letting me borrow your daughter!”

  Dawn gave a big wave. My mom smiled politely, waiting for me to give her the all clear. Dawn was frantic with upbeat, messy energy, and she was way younger than most of the parents I babysat for. She talked a million miles an hour, like she was getting ready for prom but didn’t know what dress to wear. I liked her instantly.

  I waved the all clear, and my mother shook her head and drove away. Dawn yanked me into the narrow staircase leading up to her apartment.

  “So this is me,” Dawn said, shoving a pile of laundry into the closet. Dirty dishes swarmed the sink. Colorful baby toys seemed to be her decoration of choice.

  And I thought my room was a mess.

  “Let me give you the grand tour,” she said.

  Dawn thrust out her arms and was able to reach into the kitchen, living room, and the hallway at the same time. A small, pink plastic Christmas tree was squeezed against the wall.

  “Not exactly the Ritz, but it’s home. Come meet the little man.” She crept into the dim bedroom and whispered, “I just fed him and put him to sleep.”

  A ceramic owl lamp cast a soft, gold glow upon a wall of butterfly wallpaper. A humidifier on the cabinet sent a steady plume of ethereal mist into the air. A music box played a twinkling lullaby. There was a quiet magic about the room. It felt like a sanctuary from the whole dreadful world outside.

  There was a bassinet at the foot of a bed. Dawn’s erratic pace slowed as she approached it. I leaned down with her to see a baby boy sleeping inside.

  “That’s Theo,” she murmured.

  Theo’s little round head was covered in fine, soft hair. His button nose was perfect. He was smiling in his sleep. He totally had Dawn’s dimples.

  Sudden panic jolted through me.

  That is a baby. You have never actually looked after a baby, even though it’s in your job title. I thought I was looking after a kid—not a soft, helpless new-to-Earth creature.

  Dawn kissed Theo’s little forehead, and he gurgled. She motioned for me to sneak out of the bedroom.

  “Whoa,” I said.

  Dawn smiled with pride.

  “He’s the greatest thing I’ve ever done. But he’s also the hardest thing, too. It’s like the stronger he gets, the more exhausted I feel. I’m worried he’s some kind of vampire. Or he might just drive me totally crazy one day!”

  She laughed an
d then suddenly burst into tears.

  “Sorry, I was trying to make a joke, but I got a little real there for a second. You must be freaking out right now.”

  “Nope. I’m a professional,” I said, trying to sound professional. Really, I didn’t know whether to smile or run.

  “I can tell that about you.” She put her hands on her hips and crooked her jaw as she studied me. “Even though you’re just a kid. I mean, heck, I’m only a few years older than you, right? You look smart and able. I get good vibes from you, Kelly.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Anyhoooooo. I just fed him, so he’ll probably be ready for a bottle in, like, two hours.”

  “Okay,” I said, starting to feel overwhelmed.

  “I pumped a ton earlier, so there should be plenty of milk for him in the fridge.”

  Pumped? What did she pump?

  “Oh, and it might take a while for you to gas him. His burps are huge.”

  “Gas him”? How does one gas a child?

  “Oh, and there’s some baby oil. He likes a little on his butt. It’s also good for if you have gum stuck in your hair, funny enough. Aaargh! I’m gonna miss my bus! My manager’s gonna flip.” She pulled on a heavy jacket and a woolly cap. “Call me if you need anything. But you’ll be fine. I have total faith in you, Kelly.”

  That makes one of us!

  “Oh, before I forget,” I said, digging into my jacket.

  I proudly presented Dawn with my very own business card.

  “That’s me!” I said.

  “Cool beans,” Dawn said.

  She blew a kiss at the bedroom. “Good-bye, my little turtle. Mommy loves you.”

  I froze. “What did you just call him?”

  “Sometimes when he yawns he looks just like a turtle. It’s freaking adorable. You’ll see.”

  Dawn dashed from the apartment. I was immobile.

  The Mighty Kang’s voice rang through my mind. Protect the turtle hatchling. The turtle will bring peace to the world of sssssun and air.

  11

  A shrill, piercing scream rang from the bedroom. Theo the angel had become Theo the devil in two seconds flat. When I ran to his room, I saw that his face was tomato red as his cry ripped through me.

  “Shhh, don’t cry, Baby Theo, don’t cry,” I said.

  “RRRREEEAAAAAAAH! AAAAH! EEEEUU! RAAARAAAA!” the baby screamed in my face.

  When my attempt at baby talk failed, I scooped him up and held him in my arms. I went a little deaf with his mouth beside my ear.

  Whatever you do, do not drop him.

  I popped Theo’s pacifier into his mouth, and the floodgates closed. He burbled happily, making gentle suckling noises.

  Phew.

  My ear was still ringing. I gently set him down in his bassinet, but the moment I left the room, he exploded into a shrieking fit. I scooped him up again, and I felt his little heart beating. All he really wanted was to be held.

  I turned on the television in the hopes of distracting him (and in the hopes I could watch something other than the screaming baby channel). I saw three seconds of Frosty the Snowman before he nixed it. Balancing Theo in my arms, I reached for my phone and called Liz.

  “What do you want, Ferguson?” I could hear the grinding of her dirt bike engine in the background.

  “Liz?! Where are you?”

  “Somewhere outside Philadelphia!” Liz shouted.

  Wind crashed over the phone. I imagined Liz speeding on her bike down Route 95.

  “I hope you have ice in your hair and bugs in your teeth. Because of you, I’m babysitting a freaking newborn!”

  “Theo’s supercute, isn’t he?”

  “He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen but that’s beside the point!”

  Theo fidgeted and accidentally head butted my chest. This kid didn’t have the best neck control.

  “Liz. I can’t do this. I need your help.”

  “The only baby there is you, Ferguson. Just don’t drop him and check the guide.”

  Check the guide. Her answer for everything.

  “Liz,” I pleaded. “Please come back. I’m worried about you.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have bailed on me.”

  My heart sank with guilt. “I can’t just drive across the country. I’m thirteen.”

  “Have fun with the kid. He’s full of surprises.”

  “What does that mean?”

  The line went dead. Theo squirmed in my arms. Another crying jag was coming on. I frantically opened my backpack and took out my copy of the Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting.

  BABIES (HUMAN)

  The human baby requires a babysitter’s utmost care and full attention. Do not take your eyes off her/him for a second. This task is not to be taken lightly and should be performed by an experienced professional.

  BASIC BABY NEEDS:

  A warm bottle of formula or breast milk

  Burping after bottle

  A clean diaper and bottom

  Must be given attention, love, and affection at all times.

  Must be kept warm at all times. Blanket or swaddle

  SPECIAL PRECAUTIONS:

  Some monsters are attracted to the smell of a dirty diaper, so dispose of properly and change often.

  Never leave a baby unattended. Word of advice: don’t panic. Babies are stressful. Stay as calm as you can for as long as you can.

  As they are brand-new to this Earth, their brains and hearts are completely open to all things unseen. Some even have a magical, rare ability to detect even the slightest supernatural presence.

  NOTE: If baby is crying endlessly, see section marked the Witching Hour.

  I flipped the guide to W.

  THE WITCHING HOUR

  A time of night when a baby cries and nothing—no bottle, no swaddle, no burp, no gripe water, no teething ring—can stop him/her. This dreaded time is known as the Witching Hour.

  While some believe this time of fussiness to be the result of a gassy belly or a poopy diaper, experts believe the Witching Hour is the time when a newborn is most attuned with the unseen realms of ghosts, ghouls, and creatures of the night.

  So if the baby you are looking after begins wailing in the dead of night after all his/her needs have been met, check under the bed, make sure the windows and doors are locked, and protect that little one because a monster looking for its next meal is sure to be lurking nearby.

  Theo’s breathing had grown quiet and peaceful. He kept squeaking and smacking his lips in his sleep. The guide failed to mention that babies sounded like squirming piglets.

  He stretched and yawned with a gummy smile. My eyes widened. Little Theo did look just like a turtle.

  “I might not know what I’m doing, Turtle, but I’ll do my best to protect you. Yes I will, Bubsa! Yes, I will!”

  His lips curled up into a huge smile.

  “Eeeoooaaah!” squealed Baby Theo. “Oooooaaaa.”

  “Yes, that’s right. Ooooooaaaa, Bubsa! Aren’t you a smart little bubby wub wubs. And we’re going to have funny fun-fun times, yes we are, yes we are.” Don’t judge me. It’s impossible not to talk like this when you’re in the vicinity of a cute baby. “Who’s a little turtle wurtle? That’s right! You are, Bubsa booty! And who has the cutest little birthmark?”

  I saw a birthmark on the side of his chubby little drumstick leg. It was larger than most birthmarks, with a circle and a small nub sticking out from under it.

  “It looks like . . .”

  I squinted. It was in the shape of a turtle shell.

  12

  A rumbling erupted in Theo’s diaper. My hand went warm.

  It was time for me to learn how to change a diaper while changing a diaper. I’ll spare the description of the mustard-colored horror that awaited me. Just know that I managed to do it.

  Chirp-chirp. Victor was FaceTiming me. I swatted my hair back and answered it.

  Victor was in his bedroom, adjusting a lamp away from his face. His room
was filled with soccer star posters, and an empty aquarium sat behind him.

  “Hiya,” Victor said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

  “Hey, you!”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Changing diapers. Living the dream.”

  I aimed the phone over Theo so Victor could see him.

  “Angelito,” Victor gasped. “That’s a beautiful little dude.”

  I smiled at his adoration. “Hope our kids are that cute,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Nothing! How are you doing?” I angled the phone to show my good side. I should win an Oscar for best cinematography for the work I put into FaceTiming with Victor.

  He showed me his half-finished chemistry homework. “Chemistry. It’s impossible.”

  “I loathe chemistry,” I said.

  “Wanna help me?”

  “I’m babysitting.”

  He smirked mischievously and his eyebrows jumped. “I could come over.”

  A happy dolphin did a backflip in my stomach. But then I remembered Babysitting Law Number Three: thou shalt have no crushes over while on duty.

  “You do know I grew up taking care of my little brother and sister, right? I was ten and I changed all sorts of diapers,” Victor said. “I’m like the bebé whisperer.”

  My eyes lingered on his eyes. Could this guy be any more adorable? I propped the phone up so we could still FaceTime while I held Theo. I wanted to show Victor my baby skills, but Theo thrashed, flailing his arms and legs.

  “Try singing,” Victor said.

  I desperately bounced Theo up and down while singing a nonsense tune. Victor sang a little something, too. He had such a rich voice.

  Still, Theo wailed.

  Something’s wrong.

  “Try a toy?” Victor said.

  I hope that’s what’s wrong.

  I grabbed a plastic teething ring. Theo found an even higher octave to cry in.

  “I’m worried his head is going to pop off,” I said.

  “Sometimes babies just cry for no reason,” Victor said.

  I looked around the room.

  Or they cry because a monster is nearby. . . .