A Babysitter's Guide to Monster Hunting #1

by Joe Ballarini

  It was happening again, the weird thing. Only this time it didn’t feel weird or alien. It felt right and good and ready.

  “Back off, Boogeyman,” I threatened.

  The Grand Guignol cocked his head at me. He gave me a cute little smirk. His nails clicked as he beckoned me to come forward and meet my death.

  I launched, staff raised. I charged through the flock of evil, sneakers pounding.

  I swiftly spun, cracking the staff into his side, bringing it up under his chin. His fangs clacked shut like a rattrap. My staff whacked him in the temple, and he stumbled. Eyes wide with confusion, he felt the tip of his forked tongue. He studied the small, festering droplets of black blood on his fingertips with a look of confusion.

  I did that. Me. Kelly Ferguson. Eighth-grade nobody. Come and get it.

  His face went from perplexed to really angry.

  The Boogeyman scraped his hooves, like a bull ready to charge. He sprang at me with unimaginable speed, claws out. His tail curled over his head, aimed like a scorpion. I brought my staff up, blocking his strike. I don’t know how, but I felt it coming before I saw it. I pulled back just in time to feel his long, sharp talons scraping the air an inch in front of my nose. He kicked. My staff blocked it. I met his crimson gaze.

  “May I have this dance?” I sneered.

  My arms swung into a fury. Back, forth, up, down. Everything was fast and blurred. My mind was sharp and alert, aware of my every move.

  Whispering Nanny. Rock the Cradle. Nap Time Headlock.

  A flash of claws arced. CRACK! Splinters sprayed. The top of my staff clattered on the pavement. I held the bottom of the branch, sliced clean just above my shaking grip. The Grand Guignol’s tail flew out, coiling around my neck.

  I gasped for breath, feeling my cheeks burn. I grabbed at my throat. My feet left the ground as his tail hoisted me up, hanging me. My throat bloated. My legs kicked helplessly.

  The Grand Guignol fished out a little box from his jacket and flicked it open. The green snot-goo monster that had infected Liz oozed from within it, stretched toward my nose. I clamped my mouth shut and tried to turn away, but the Boogeyman’s tail forced me to face him.

  Dizzy spots formed in front of my eyes. I looked around the street, swarming with monsters and nightmares. Liz staggered toward me, holding her limp left arm. Victor gulped for breath against the shattered glass storefront he had been thrown into. Berna was pinned down by a ten-foot-tall spider, its sharp pointy legs playing with her hair while its fangs clicked hungrily.

  The babysitters were fighting with every last ounce of strength they had while the children cowered under the van. I blinked. There were only four children.

  I felt the dripping sludge creature trickle up my nose, and my consciousness slipping away.

  Where was Jacob?

  44

  “Hey.” I heard a little voice behind me.

  I fought to stay awake, blowing air through my nostrils to keep the slithering slime out of my nose.

  The Grand Guignol kept his eyes on me, enjoying my pain.

  “Hey!” shouted the little voice.

  Jacob! He was standing behind the Grand Guignol with his little fists balled up. He was standing straight, shoulders back.

  “I . . . ,” Jacob whispered.

  The Grand Guignol glowered down at the boy. “Quiet, child.”

  He bore his fangs and hissed. Nightmares closed around Jacob: life-sized dolls, centipedes, and ghoulies. But Jacob didn’t run. The little kid just stood there, facing his fears.

  “You’re just nightmares . . . and . . . and . . . I’m not afraid of you anymore,” he said in a quiet voice.

  The nightmares laughed, murky and cruel.

  That upset Jacob. Children, like the rest of us, do not like to be laughed at. His jaw jutted out, as if he were demanding cookies. He stamped his foot.

  “I said . . . I’m not afraid of you!”

  Jacob shook with power. His eyes were fixed on the Grand Guignol. His cowardice had faded into passionate anger. He closed his eyes tight, as if to focus on exactly what he wanted. He wasn’t trying to block the nightmares out. He was trying to summon the miracle inside of him.

  The nightmares crept dangerously close to him, a dark wall of growls and spooky taunts. A strange wind howled around the boy. Jacob’s eyes snapped open. They were blazing with courage and strength.

  “Leave me and my friends alone!” he screamed in a strong, deep voice. “I’m not afraid of you! I am not afraid of you.” He was no longer the little loaf crying over Halloween candy; he was a strong little human, demanding respect from the things that haunted him.

  Inches from his face, claws and fangs melted away into golden embers.

  A powerful shockwave radiated from Jacob and raced through the monsters like wildfire, turning them all into shimmering nightmare dust. Nightmares wailed as they dissolved. Zombies, trolls, and ghostly skeletons vanished.

  The goo creature tickling up my nose made a tormented shriek and withered into spectral sparkles. Then total nothingness.

  Magical sand floated like snow, like some kind of golden nuclear winter. A strong, warm breeze rushed through the air, picking up the glowing clouds and swirling them around the Grand Guignol.

  In shock, the Grand Guignol dropped me.

  “No . . . ,” he mumbled. “No.” He swatted at the twirling cloud of dream dust circling him.

  He was all alone. His army of monsters had vanished.

  “You dirty, rotten children!”

  He lunged for Jacob. I stepped forward, ducked, weaved, twisted, and punched the Grand Guignol right in the chest.

  He gasped. Lightning forked in the sky. Storm clouds crashed.

  “That’s called the Monster Heart Breaker,” I said. “Learned it from a friend.”

  Eyes wide in horror, the Grand Guignol clutched his heart. He let out a tiny mouse-whisper.

  I stood beside Jacob, holding his hand. We faced the Boogeyman together.

  “That’s your real weakness,” I said. “Your tiny, little, selfish heart.”

  A tear formed in the Grand Guignol’s eye. “And you just broke it,” he whispered.

  The nightmare dust gathered into a tornado as wicked winds launched the wretched creature up, like a piece of trash. His claws caught on to a parking meter. He held it, legs scuttling into the sky, tail whipping up, as if a huge vacuum cleaner hovered over him.

  I hugged Jacob in the howling winds. I saw Victor clinging to the theater door, his hair blowing across his amazed face. The babysitters held the other children.

  “You’ll miss me when I’m gone!” shrieked the Boogeyman. “Life without me is boring and dull. Just like all of you.” His nails scratched along the parking meter, etching into the metal. “That’s why you all dream about me! I’m just too much fun. That’s why you can never kill the Boogeyman.”

  Liz rushed forward, clutching her limp arm. “Wait! Where’s my brother, you slime?” she shouted over the whistling gust.

  His laughter was slow and satisfied. This was his last chance to pour lemon juice on her wound. His final, tiny victory.

  “Don’t ask me, darling,” he said. “Ask Serena.”

  He released his grip and soared into the sky, tail lashing at the stars.

  “‘Ooooh, the gooood liiiiife, full of fun . . . ,’” he crooned as the tornado of shadows inhaled him into the gloom. His twisted singing grew fainter and fainter.

  I held Jacob and Liz. We shuddered in the freezing howl. Bolts of lightning cracked deep within the clouds where the Boogeyman vanished, as if the angry heavens had belched after a satisfied meal.

  And then the winds died. Stars twinkled. Peaceful silence settled on the street.

  All of Jacob’s nightmares were gone. So were mine.

  “Way to go, little loaf,” I said.

  Jacob beamed. The babysitters and the four children rushed to us, hugged, and high-fived us. They danced and sang. Overwhelmed with joy, Cassie grabbed
Curtis and kissed him on the lips. Curtis sputtered and pulled away, blinking in shock. Cassie looked surprised by her outburst too.

  Berna giggled, unwrapped a fresh piece of gum, and popped it into her mouth.

  I looked at Liz. She was holding her left arm, still staring up at the empty, starry sky. I unbuckled my belt and tied it over her shoulder, making a really lame attempt at a sling.

  “You okay?”

  Liz winced, adjusted her shoulder. She kept peering up into the vast darkness.

  “Is Serena . . . Is that who I think it is?” I whispered.

  Liz nodded. “One of the seven.”

  45

  Victor staggered up to me and the babysitters. “Kelly,” he said breathlessly.

  “Victor, you’re okay!” I hugged him. Liz mumbled something to Mama Vee, and she signaled the babysitters to hang back a second.

  Victor’s and my eyes met. I could hear the orchestra swelling our romantic theme song as he gazed into my eyes.

  “Wow. Kelly,” he said, wild-eyed. “You. You are so . . . weird.”

  The orchestra stopped swelling.

  Not that I needed his praise or approval, but I was at least hoping for a thumbs-up.

  A rumble shook the ground. The doors to the movie theater flew open, and hundreds of teenagers dressed like spring breakers flooded the sidewalk, laughing and whooping.

  “The Gyre’s alive! Look out, Chad!”

  Wugnot dove into the van, hiding from the human eyes.

  Among the crowd, the Princess Pack yawned while Deanna called her mom. They looked awesome, like Malibu Barbies but for real. Deanna saw me, and her eyes bugged.

  “What happened to you?” Deanna said. “Did you, like, fall into a gorilla’s cage at the zoo or something?” The Princess Pack laughed.

  I held back, swallowing my instinct to tell her everything. No, this was mine. And nothing she or anybody said could take that away from me.

  “I’ve been out,” I said, chin up. “With my friends.” I looked back at the babysitters. They smiled at me.

  Victor babbled in Spanish at a million miles an hour. He kept pointing at me and saying, “¡Monstruo! Monstruo!”

  I glared at him. “Yeah, Victor,” I said, waving at Deanna and the princesses. “I’m never gonna be one of the cool kids. And I don’t want to be.” I put my hands on my hips. “This is who I am.”

  Saying that made me feel light as a feather.

  “I like math. And sometimes I get tingly when I solve a really tough equation or when my brain hurts after I’ve read a really good book. I have three Instagram followers, two of whom are my parents. My mom doesn’t have a sweet ride. I’m not popular.”

  I grinned at Liz. She was coming out of her trance. Curtis’s crooked eyes were fixed on me as he leaned his head down on Cassie’s shoulder with a sigh.

  “I’m a babysitter. And if that makes me weird, well, then, buddy, I am a number-one fuh-reak show.”

  Cassie wiped a tear from her eye. Deanna snorted.

  “But that’s not what got me through tonight. It was my brains. And the oddballs and the freaks . . . the best friends a girl could have.”

  Victor stared at me a long while. He reached out and took my hand.

  “No—no—I didn’t mean weird. My English sometimes . . . I mean, um . . . different. Bizarre. No. Cómo puedo decir único . . . unique? Extra. Ordinary! Yes! Extraordinary.”

  I blinked and smiled. “Oh. Well, that’s a better word.”

  He sighed, knocking his knuckles against his temple. “That’s what I meant to say all along.”

  The orchestra resumed playing our theme song. Deanna huffed a few times, but when she saw there was nothing she could do to break our focus on each other, she marched off, snapping at her friends to follow her.

  “It’s, like, when did this become the Kelly show?” I heard her ask the princesses.

  Victor leaned close to me. He was well within kissing distance. The babysitters all turned away from us, pretending not to notice. I felt his breath on my face. Suddenly, every brave bone in my body turned to jelly.

  I felt a tug on my shirt. “Can we go home now?” Jacob asked.

  Not now, kid.

  “Oh, gross!” Jacob squealed. “You guys are nasty.” He pretended to wretch.

  That cracked me up. Victor laughed too. Our romantic moment in the moonlight vanished. We stepped back, out of kissing distance, stealing knowing looks.

  Liz looked at her watch. “Hey, Kelly. It’s almost one.”

  I blinked. Then I remembered: The Zellmans are coming home at one!

  “Crud! We have six minutes to get you home!” I cried to Jacob.

  We bolted into the van, and I left my Cupid’s Arrow for the second time that evening.

  “I’ll call you later!” I shouted to Victor as Wugnot started the engine.

  46

  The half-eaten black van screeched around the corner on its large, whumping tires. Wugnot was blasting a triumphant heavy metal song while Mama Vee applied a salve to his cracked, sore horn. I was squeezed in the back with the babysitters, Jacob, and the four children. Berna and the others wiped the mud and tears from the kids’ faces with baby wipes. Liz pulled a spare sweater from the gypsy cabinet and tossed it to me.

  We launched down Vanderbilt Lane in Mercy Springs. I yelled for Wugnot to stop in front of Jacob’s house, and he stomped on the emergency brake, spinning the van in a screaming arc. Everyone glared at the hobgoblin. He shrugged with an evil grin.

  “Hate me all you want, but I got you here in five minutes and forty seconds. Go!”

  Liz and I held Jacob’s hands and darted across the Zellmans’ lawn. The lights were off. Liz snuck us in through the front door, and we crept through the shadows of the long hallway, listening for the Zellmans. They weren’t home yet.

  “I’ll keep watch,” Liz whispered to me.

  “But—you’re his favorite,” I whispered.

  “Kelly? Can I have some water?” came Jacob’s voice.

  Liz winked and patted me on the arm. “Go get ’em, Quick Study.”

  I led Jacob into the kitchen and poured him half a glass of water. He gulped it down. As we shuffled into his room, he kicked off his dirty clothes and jumped into a fresh pair of pj’s.

  I tucked him into bed, and he looked up at me with warm eyes.

  “You gonna be okay?” I asked.

  Jacob threw his arms around my neck and squeezed tight. A sweet lump fell into my throat.

  Headlights swept the window. I heard Liz make a bird whistle. The Zellmans were home.

  “Go to sleep, buddy,” I said quietly. “I’ll turn on your night-light.”

  “It’s okay,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into the fluffy pillow. “I think I’ll have good dreams. . . .”

  “I think you will too.”

  I leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  I watched him drift away into sleep.

  “Thank you, little loaf,” I whispered.

  I walked out of his room and gently closed the door.

  Clack, clack! Mrs. Zellman’s heels marched across the marble. I dove onto the couch and turned on the TV just as she entered the living room. Mrs. Z. had removed her Ice Queen headpiece. Her hair was pulled back with a hundred bobby pins. Her husband yawned, gave a tired wave, and waddled off to bed.

  “Hi!” I said with a little wave back.

  “Well. How was he?” she said, wiping the thick blue makeup from her eyes.

  “Great! He’s asleep. I’m just watching some Tears of Flowers and Fish. . . .”

  Mrs. Zellman peered inside Jacob’s bedroom door, and I heard his soft snore. She took off her high heels, and I saw she wasn’t much taller than I was without them. She padded back into the kitchen and grabbed her purse.

  “Here’s eighty dollars,” she said, handing over four crisp twenty-dollar bills. “I don’t know if you’re busy tomorrow night, but
we have to go to a charity event—”

  “I’ll be here,” I said.

  She gave me a look. And then a grateful smile. “You’re a lifesaver, Kelly.”

  I grinned a little.

  If they only knew.

  “Hank will give you a ride home. Hank!”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ve got a ride.”

  47

  The black van pulled up in front of my house.

  “That was a doozy, huh?” Vee laughed, looking at me. “I thought we were goners for sure.”

  “How could we lose?” I said, holding up the broken branch. “I had the Staff of Destiny. Sorry I broke it.”

  Mama Vee pursed her lips. She nodded for me to hop out of the van onto the street so we could speak alone.

  “Here’s the thing,” she said, apologetic. “The Staff of Destiny is just a branch I had lying around. I said all that stuff about it being powerful ’cause I thought it would give you confidence—”

  I laughed. “I know, Vee.”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Can’t fool a fooler. So look. Now that the SITs have graduated to full-time babysitters—”

  From inside the van, I heard Berna shriek, “We have?”

  “Not nice to eavesdrop, you guys,” said Vee.

  “The window’s busted. We can hear everything,” called Curtis.

  “Shut up, you guysh! Preshident Preston, you were about to shay shomething,” encouraged Cassie.

  The babysitters climbed out of the van and looked up at Vee with eager grins.

  “You’ve all proven yourselves in the line of duty,” said Mama Vee. “So it gives me great pleasure to officially promote you three to the role and rank of babysitter.”

  “Aweshome!”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” said Berna, hopping up and down, hugging Vee.

  Sitting in the van, Liz gave a quiet nod and a cool thumbs-up to the SITs.

  Curtis clicked his heels and swiftly saluted Vee. “Madame President. It’s been a real honor serving with you.”