The Berenstain Bears Chapter Book: The Magic Crystal Caper

by Stan

  “We were hoping to have Gran look into her crystal,” said Sister. “But she says it’s over at the bowling alley.”

  “Not anymore it isn’t,” said Gramps. “It’s right here in this bowling bag, all drilled and proper. Come on into the house.”

  Gran and the scouts followed him in. “I’m glad to have my crystal back,” said Gran. “But where did that beautiful blue plaid bowling bag come from? It’s exactly like yours.”

  “From the bowling alley’s equipment counter,” said Gramps. “It’s a gift. They threw it into the deal.”

  “What deal?” said Gran.

  “That’s my big news,” said Gramps. “I bought the bowling alley!”

  The news hit Gran like a shock wave. “You . . . you bought the bowling alley?” she said, choking on each word.

  “That’s right!” said Gramps. “It took all our life savings. But it was the chance of a lifetime.”

  “You can’t be serious!” gasped Gran.

  “Smartest thing I ever did!” said Gramps. “Beartown Lanes is a going business. It’s a gold mine. Throws off cash like a money machine. And just think, I’ll be able to bowl for free anytime I want.”

  “Who’d you buy it from?” asked Gran.

  “Squire Grizzly, of course,” said Gramps.

  “Well, if it’s such a going business, why did the squire want to sell it?” asked Gran.

  “Good grief, woman,” said Gramps. “Don’t you understand business? Squire Grizzly owns half of Bear Country. What’s he need with a little old bowling alley? Beartown Lanes is chicken feed to him.”

  “It may be chicken feed to the squire,” said Gran. “But it’s our life savings to us.” Gran sighed. “Oh, well. What’s done is done. Scouts, why don’t I have a look into my crystal and see about that Supertroop Merit Badge Award?”

  “We’ll sure appreciate it,” said Sister.

  Gran unzipped the blue plaid bowling bag and carefully lifted the heavy crystal out of the bag. After checking to see if the new finger holes were a good fit, she placed it on the small round table she used for home readings. The scouts gathered round as Gran stared into the crystal and began to say her magic words:

  “Grizzly growl, grizzly grum,

  tell me, crystal,

  what is to come.

  Tell us the future.

  Help us see.

  What will the council’s

  decision be?”

  Gran stared hard into the crystal.

  “What do you see, Gran?” said Brother. The rest of the troop chimed in.

  “Nothing. It’s all foggy,” said Gran after a long pause.

  “Maybe the finger holes messed it up,” said Sister.

  Gran sighed. “No, it’s not the crystal,” she said. “It’s me. I can’t concentrate. I’m just too upset about Gramps putting our life savings into a bowling alley.”

  The scouts could see Gramps was in for it for what he’d done. But when Gran wheeled around to face him, she accidentally knocked the crystal ball off the table. It hit the floor with a huge KLUNK!

  “My crystal! My precious crystal!” cried Gran as it rolled across the floor.

  • Chapter 6 •

  A Pink Glow

  Gran was right to worry about her crystal. It was rolling toward the steps that led to the sunken living room. The steps were stone, there were four of them, and they led to the sunken living room’s stone floor.

  There were four sickening glassy thuds as the crystal bounced down the steps. The scouts ran to the steps. They hovered over the crystal.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” cried Gran. “Is it smashed to bits?”

  “No,” said Brother. “It isn’t even cracked.”

  YOW!

  IT’S HOT!

  “But there’s something wrong with it,” said Fred. “It’s got a sort of pink glow inside it.”

  “A pink glow?” said Gramps. “Lemme have a look.”

  “Just bring it here!” said Gran.

  Fred picked it up and started to carry it to Gran. But he didn’t get very far. “YOW! IT’S HOT!” he cried, tossing it into the air.

  For the next seconds the Bear Scouts played hot potato with Gran’s glowing crystal. It would have crashed to the floor again if Gramps hadn’t come to the rescue and caught it in his big strong hands.

  “Hmm,” he said. “It seems to have cooled off some. It’s still plenty warm, though. And I’ll be danged. It does have a pink glow inside.”

  “Weird with a capital ‘W,’” said Brother.

  “What do you make of it, Fred?” said Lizzy. “You’re our science guy.”

  “I don’t know what to make of it,” said Fred. “Unless smashing down those stone steps did something to the crystal’s atomic structure.”

  “Is that possible?” asked Brother.

  “Weird things happen sometimes,” said Fred.

  “Put it here on the table,” said Gran. “I want to see this pink glow.”

  Gramps set the glowing crystal on the table. “Careful,” he said. “It’s still pretty warm.”

  Gran stared into the crystal. She started to say her magic words again. But she didn’t even get to “grizzly grum.” “It’s clear!” she cried. “The fog is gone. I can see the future in the pink glow!”

  The scouts got that crawly feeling you get when something really weird happens. And Gramps wasn’t shaking his head anymore.

  “Do you see anything about our Supertroop Merit Badge Award?” asked Brother.

  “No,” said Gran. “I see . . . I see . . . Beartown Lanes! It seems to be closed. There’s a sign on the door. It says ‘Closed Until Further Notice.’”

  “Wait a minute! Let me see that!” said Gramps.

  “The image has faded,” said Gran. “Other images are coming into view. All sorts of images. Baseball scores: Yankees five, Giants three . . .”

  “But that’s tonight’s game between the Big Bear City Yankees and the Beartown Giants,” said Brother. “It hasn’t even started yet!”

  “I see a checkered flag,” said Gran. “It’s an auto race. The winning car is number six.”

  “That’ll be the Grizzly Five Hundred,” said Fred. “And it’s not being run till next Tuesday!”

  Gran fell back in her chair. She looked shaken up and exhausted.

  “Are you all right, Gran?” said Sister.

  “I saw the future,” said Gran in a strange voice. “I actually saw the future!”

  “Poppycock!” said Gramps. “Ridiculous! There’s no way Beartown Lanes is going out of business! Why, every lane is booked solid for two months. As for those scores and race results . . .”

  That’s when the phone rang. “Somebody answer that,” said Gramps.

  Brother picked up the phone. “Gramps and Gran’s residence . . . it’s for you, Gramps.”

  “The very idea of seeing the future in a glass ball,” he mumbled as he picked up the phone. “Gramps here . . . yes . . . uh-huh . . .” All the strength seemed to go out of Gramps as he hung up the phone. “That was Billy the manager. Some sort of emergency over at the bowling alley. Gotta get over there right away.”

  • Chapter 7 •

  Big Trouble at Beartown Lanes

  “Easy, Gramps,” said Brother. “Chief Bruno patrols this road. You don’t want to get a ticket for speeding.”

  “Can’t help that!” said Gramps as the pickup careened around a corner.

  “Speeding and reckless driving,” screamed Sister, hanging on for dear life. She and Brother were in the front of the truck with Gramps. Fred and Lizzy were hanging on for dear life in the back.

  When Gramps got the emergency call from Billy the manager, he headed out the door with the scouts after him. They all piled into the pickup. Gramps broke all records getting to Beartown Lanes.

  Jaws fell open with shock when they arrived. There on the door was exactly the same sign Gran had seen in her crystal ball. It said “Closed Until Further Notice.” Gramps was especially
shaken. Suppose, after all these years, it now turned out that Gran really could see the future.

  Gramps tried the door. It was locked. He knocked hard.

  “I guess you know what this means,” said Brother. “It means that whatever strange atomic thing happened inside Gran’s crystal when it fell down those steps, she really can see the future in it.”

  “That can’t possibly be true,” said Gramps. “And even if it is, I don’t want to hear about it. Where is that Billy?” Gramps banged on the door and shouted, “Billy! It’s me, Gramps! Open up!”

  “But suppose,” said Fred, “the Yankees do beat the Giants five to three, and suppose number six does win the Grizzly Five Hundred. What then, Gramps?”

  “I told you I didn’t want to hear about it!” said Gramps. He was about to bang some more when the door opened and Billy peered out. Gramps and the scouts rushed in.

  Once inside, Gramps looked around. When he had been there earlier and made his deal, Beartown Lanes had been a busy, noisy, bustling place. Bowling balls were thundering. Tenpins were crashing. The automatic pinspotters were setting up the pins as fast as the bowlers were knocking them down. Now the place was as silent and deserted as a tomb. But everything seemed in order. Why had Billy called? What had gone wrong?

  “What’s that funny smell?” said Brother, sniffing the air.

  “I smell it, too,” said Sister.

  “It’s a burnt smell,” said Lizzy.

  “Hmm,” said Fred. “It smells like when my dad’s computer went blooey.”

  “Yeah,” said Gramps. “What is that smell? All right, Billy. What’s going on? Why are we closed down?”

  “Gee, it wasn’t my fault, boss,” said Billy.

  “What wasn’t your fault?” said Gramps.

  “I mean, how was I supposed to know?” whimpered Billy.

  “Billy,” said Gramps. “If you don’t tell what’s going on, and right now, I’m going to use your mouth and nose for finger holes and roll you down the alley.” He looked angry enough to do it, too.

  “Okay! Okay!” said Billy. “Follow me.”

  Gramps and the scouts followed him across the lanes and down a passageway to the rear of the building.

  “There’s the problem,” said Billy. He was pointing to a big flat black box that was attached to the wall. It was giving off a strong burnt smell, and there were scorch marks on the wall.

  “What is this thing?” said Gramps.

  Billy didn’t seem to want to answer. But when Billy saw Gramps flexing his big bony fists, he started talking fast. “It’s the master computer that runs the automatic pinspotter. It’s finished, completely burnt out. You can’t operate Beartown Lanes without it. It’s been on its last legs for months. It’ll cost thousands to replace. That’s why Squire Grizzly sold you the place.”

  “Why, that no-good greedy crook!” said Gramps. “And you knew all about it, you little worm!” Gramps took hold of Billy’s collar and bunched up a big fist.

  “Easy, Gramps,” cautioned Brother. “Socking Billy isn’t going to solve anything.”

  “Brother’s right,” said Sister. “What we’ve got to do is put our heads together and get this place going again.”

  “I mean, you’ve got your life savings sunk in this place,” said Fred.

  “Don’t remind me,” said Gramps.

  “And,” said Lizzy, “if you don’t reopen soon, you’re going to lose all your customers to McBruin’s Bowlerama out on the highway.”

  Gramps unbunched his fist and let go of Billy’s collar. “You’re right, of course,” said Gramps.

  That’s when somebody started banging on the locked front door of Beartown Lanes.

  “Make yourself useful, Billy. Go see what that banging’s about.”

  • Chapter 8 •

  Pay Up, or Else!

  “This phony sign doesn’t fool me for a minute! So open up and pay up!”

  It was Ralph Ripoff, swindler, pickpocket, card shark, and, more recently, bookmaker, who was banging on the door of Beartown Lanes.

  “You’d better open up, Billy! And I want my money!” Bang! Bang! Ralph hit air on his third bang. Billy had opened up.

  “For Pete’s sake, Ralph! That sign’s not phony. And stop banging. The new owner’s here, and the last thing I need is for him to know about my betting habit. Quick, let’s slip into my office.”

  “New owner?” said Ralph.

  “Yes. Gramps bought the place from Squire Grizzly.”

  “How come it’s closed down?” said Ralph.

  “Little problem with the automatic pinspotter,” said Billy. “C’mon into my office.”

  Billy looked to make sure they hadn’t been seen, then closed the door. It had been a rough day for him. First there was Gramps with his big bony fists, and now Ralph was demanding his money.

  “Look,” said Billy. “I know I owe you, and I’m going to pay.”

  “That’s right,” said Ralph, looking into his little black book. “You owe me big bucks, and you’d better pay up right now!”

  “Gimme a break, Ralph,” said Billy. “I just don’t have the money right now. And you know the old saying: ‘You can’t get blood out of a turnip.’”

  “Well, I’ve got a new saying for you,” said Ralph. “It goes like this: I know a couple of guys in Big Bear City that would enjoy getting some out of you.”

  Billy folded his arms and leaned against the wall of his tiny office. “Look, Ralph, I can’t give you any money—at least not right now. But suppose I were to give you something that’s worth thousands, even millions. Would you wipe out my debt?”

  “What could you possibly give me that would be worth millions?” said Ralph.

  “Information,” said Billy. “Well, is it a deal?”

  “Let’s hear the information,” said Ralph, sitting on the edge of Billy’s desk.

  “Well, it’s like this,” said Billy. “I knew there was going to be trouble when Gramps arrived, so I took my time opening the door. You know, so I could get my story straight. I heard talking outside. He had the scouts with him. It sounded interesting, so I listened.”

  “Get on with it, Billy,” said Ralph. “I have other appointments.”

  “You know how Gran tells fortunes at the June Fete,” continued Billy. “Sees the future in her crystal ball.”

  “You’re wasting my time,” said Ralph. “Gran couldn’t predict getting wet in the rain. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see a couple of guys about a turnip.”

  “No, Ralph! Wait!” cried Billy. “I’m just getting to the good part. It seems that something weird happened to Gran’s crystal ball. It fell down some steps and turned atomic or something. It actually tells the future. It told about how the lanes would be closed down. It told the exact sign I put on the door.”

  “Oh?” said Ralph.

  “But that’s not all. It gave the score of tonight’s game between the Yankees and the Giants. The Yankees are going to win, five to three. And there’s more. It told the winner of the Grizzly Five Hundred next Tuesday. Number six is going to win. Well, Ralph, is it a deal? Are we even?”

  “Billy, you can’t be serious,” said Ralph. “You can’t really expect me to cancel a large debt in exchange for a cockamamie story about an atomic crystal ball that tells baseball scores.” Ralph tilted his straw hat to the proper angle and rose to leave. “But I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll give you two more weeks to pay. Just because I like you. Well, ta-ta!”

  “But, Ralph!” cried Billy, as Ralph left the office and slipped out the front door.

  When last seen, he was walking away from Beartown Lanes, whistling, twirling his cane, and looking for all the world like the cat that swallowed the canary. Or maybe even the canary that swallowed the cat.

  • Chapter 9 •

  Pin Boys (and Girls) to the Rescue

  “It’s that danged crystal ball!” snarled Gramps. “I may just go home and smash it to bits.”

  “Now,
Gramps,” said Brother. “It’s not Gran’s crystal ball that’s the problem. The problem is figuring out some way to get this place back in action.”

  Gramps and the scouts were sitting in one of the alcoves in front of the alleys where bowlers waited between turns. They were drinking sodas Gramps got from the lanes’ refreshment counter.

  “I know. I know,” said Gramps. “I just can’t help it. It was bad enough when Gran’s fortune-telling was just for fun. But now that the dang crystal has gone atomic and she really can see the future . . . it’s . . . it’s . . . against nature! It’s downright evil, by gosh!”

  “Maybe not,” said Fred. “Maybe it’s some kind of scientific breakthrough. Maybe even a miracle.”

  “Yeah,” said Sister. “Forget the Supertroop Merit Badge Award. Gran’ll be able to predict anything—test scores, the weather, who’s gonna win the Double-Dutch contest.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing,” said Lizzy. “When word gets out about Gran’s new improved crystal ball, she’s going to be the hit of the June Fete.”

  “Hey, that’s right,” agreed Brother. “Folks’ll line up for miles to get their fortunes told. And speaking of fortunes, it’s going to make one for the hospital.”

  “Yeah,” said Gramps. “But how am I going to tell Gran I’ve lost ours in a dead bowling alley?”

  “That’s our point, Gramps. You won’t have to if we can just figure out how to get this place up and going again.”

  But Gramps didn’t seem to hear. He kept going on about Gran and her crystal. “It’s evil, I tell you—and dangerous. Looking into the future and playing with people’s lives like that . . .”

  “Gramps,” said Brother.

  “Yes,” said Gramps.

  “Bowling goes back a long way, doesn’t it?”

  “A long way, indeed,” said Fred, who read the encyclopedia for fun. “Bowling has been traced back hundreds of years. Originally called ‘the game of bowls’ . . .”