by M. C. Badger
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Copyright Page
ONE WINDY Monday morning, Marcus, Mila and Turtle Tinkler were going up the stairs to their flat. They lived on the thirty-third floor of thirty-three Rushby Road, which meant that there were a lot of stairs. They could have caught the lift but they had a rule:
Each of the Tinklers was climbing the stairs in his or her own way. Turtle was crawling up the stairs. This wasn’t because she couldn’t walk. She could walk very well. It was because she thought she was a turtle. She had a red cardboard box tied to her back. This was her shell.
‘Turtles LOVE climbing stairs,’ she said. (Maybe you have guessed that Turtle has some strange ideas about turtles.)
Marcus Tinkler was climbing the stairs by walking on his hands. His older sister Mila was trying to walk up on her hands too. The only problem was she kept walking on Marcus’s hands instead.
‘It is not my fault!’ said Mila. ‘The problem is your hands are too big, Marcus You need to invent something to make them shrink.’
Marcus was good at inventing things. But he didn’t think he could invent something to shrink hands.
‘My hands aren’t too big,’ he said. ‘You just need to practise.’
Maybe all of this sounds a little bit unusual to you. But none of it was at all unusual for the Tinklers. They were used to doing things differently from everyone else. They even had a rule about it.
The Tinklers’ parents did things differently from other parents too. They both worked in a travelling circus and were often away from home.
Marcus, Mila and Turtle planned to join their parents in the circus one day. But for now, they lived all by themselves, which meant they got to do things their own way.
Marcus was counting in Swedish as he went up the steps. He was trying to learn a new language every week.
At least, that was what Mila said.
The problem was that Swedish is very HARD.
So far, Marcus only knew a few words. He had learnt how to count to five, but he could only walk up three steps on his hands before he fell over.
Mila and Turtle were having trouble too. Mila could only walk up one step before she fell. And Turtle kept slipping backwards. By the time the Tinklers reached the twelfth floor of their building they all needed a rest.
Marcus went and leant against the door of flat number twelve. Turtle crawled up beside him.
Mila didn’t sit down. She looked at the front door of flat number twelve and shivered.
‘That flat gives me the CREEPS,’ she said.
Marcus was surprised. ‘Why?’
‘Well,’ said Mila, ‘how long ago did the Petersons move out of it?’
The Petersons were the couple who used to live in flat twelve. Mrs Peterson liked to knit socks. Mr Peterson liked to make picture frames out of wood. Whenever the Petersons saw the Tinklers they would give them more socks and another picture frame.
The Petersons were very nice but Marcus had been a little bit glad when they moved out. They didn’t need any more socks. And there wasn’t any more room on their walls for picture frames.
‘They moved out three months ago,’ said Marcus. ‘It’s been empty ever since.’
‘Exactly!’ said Mila. ‘That flat has been empty all that time, and no ghosts have moved in!’
‘Why would we want ghosts to move into our building?’ asked Turtle. ‘Ghosts are very annoying. They float around all the time and get in your way. And they are so noisy with all that WHOO - ING! that they do.’
‘Ghosts aren’t real anyway,’ said Marcus.
Mila didn’t seem to hear Marcus. ‘Look, I don’t really want ghosts in here either,’ she said to Turtle. ‘But I don’t want to break the law.’
‘What law?’ asked Marcus.
Mila knew a lot about rules and laws. The only thing was that Marcus sometimes got the feeling she made them up.
‘It’s against the law for a place to be empty for more than three weeks without a ghost moving in. We could get into big trouble if the police find out.’
‘Well, how do you know that no ghosts have moved in?’ Marcus asked. ‘Maybe they are in there, hiding.’
He was joking. He knew there were no such things as ghosts.
But Mila didn’t think it was a joke. She jumped to her feet. ‘You’re right, Marcus!’ she said. ‘We’d better go in and check.’
MILA HURRIED OVER to the door.
‘Quick!’ she said to Marcus. ‘Give me your skeleton key.’
A couple of weeks ago Marcus had made a special key in his workshop. This key could open any door. Keys like this are called skeleton keys. But Marcus’s key was a skeleton key for another reason too. It was shaped like a skeleton.
‘We don’t need to use it,’ said Marcus. ‘The Petersons gave us their spare key.’
‘We should use the skeleton key anyway,’ said Mila. ‘That way, the ghosts will know that this is a good place for them to stay.’
‘Well, OK,’ said Marcus. Secretly he was happy to use his new invention! Marcus took the skeleton key out of his pocket and went over to the door of flat number twelve. He put the key into the lock and turned it.
The door silently opened.
Mila gasped.
‘Did you hear that?’ she asked.
‘No,’ said Marcus and Turtle.
‘Exactly!’ said Mila. ‘The door didn’t CREAK one tiny bit. Ghosts really hate quiet doors.’
The Tinklers Three went into the Petersons’ old flat. It was totally empty. There weren’t even any blinds on the windows. Sunlight streamed in.
‘Look at this place!’ said Mila. She sounded disgusted. ‘No wonder there are no ghosts in here. It is way too bright and clean!’
‘Ghosts like dark corners to hide in. They like window shutters that BANG. They like spiders’ webs and bats. They like chocolate ice-cream.’
‘Are you sure ghosts like chocolate ice-cream?’ said Marcus. ‘I’ve never heard that before.’
Mila grinned. ‘Well, I like chocolate ice-cream,’ she said. ‘It helps me think. That’s because it keeps my brain nice and cool. Brains work best when they are cool. Let’s go home and have some chocolate ice-cream. Then we can make a plan. We need to get some ghosts into this place. If we don’t, we will be in really big trouble.’
When the Tinklers got back to their flat on the thirty-third floor they each had a job to do.
Marcus’s job was to feed the pigeons. He did this every day. Sometimes he used a grabby hand to feed them. This was one of his inventions. It was a stick with a grabber on the end.
Marcus would put bread in the grabby hand. He got the bread from the bakers who lived on the ground floor.
Then he would hold the stick out the window. The pigeons would fly past and eat the bread.
But sometimes the pigeons just waited on the window ledge to be fed.
Turtle’s job was to take off her red box and put on a blue one. The red one was her outdoor shell. The blue one was her indoor shell.
Mila’s job was to get the chocolate ice-cream. She also got two bowls and two spoons. One was for her and one was for Marcus. For Turtle, she got a bowl of lettuce.
Once they had finished their jobs they met up in the kitchen. Mila put the bowls of ice-cream and the lettuce under the kitchen table. This was because they had a rule:
The Tinklers sat on some books under the table. There were a lot of books under the kitchen table, because of another rule:
> When the Tinklers weren’t reading the books, they used them as little chairs.
When all three Tinklers were sitting under the table, Mila banged her spoon on the side of her ice-cream bowl.
‘Let’s have a meeting,’ she said. ‘We need to get some ghosts to move into flat number twelve. Any ideas?’
‘We should put a lettuce leaf outside the building,’ said Turtle. ‘Then we should put another one just inside the building. Then we should keep putting leaves on every step leading right to the door of number twelve.’
Mila shook her head. ‘That won’t get ghosts,’ she said. ‘That will get turtles.’
Then Marcus had an idea. ‘Ghosts like dark places, right?’ he said.
Mila nodded. ‘They also like lights that flash ON and OFF. They like HIGH screaming noises. They also like low rumbles. They like SMOOTH floors so they can glide around. Ghosts love gliding.’
Suddenly Mila SNEEZED. She always did this when she had an idea.
‘I know just what we should do!’ Mila said. She looked very excited. Her face had gone all red. Her eyes were bright.
‘What?’ said Marcus.
‘Let’s throw a GHOST disco PARTY! There are flashing lights at a disco. And music that screams and rumbles. The ghosts will LOVE it.’
Marcus wasn’t sure about this. ‘I’ve never heard of a ghost disco party before,’ he said.
‘Of course you haven’t,’ said Mila. ‘I only just invented it. But it’s a very good idea, don’t you think? Lots of ghosts will come. And I’m sure that some of them will decide to stay.’
‘A GHOST DISCO is a great idea,’ said Marcus. ‘Everyone knows that ghosts like to dance.’
‘They do?’ Mila was surprised that Marcus knew anything about ghosts.
‘Of course!’ said Marcus. He grinned. ‘They love to get down and boo-gie.’
‘Who told you that?’ asked Mila.
‘I read it in here,’ said Marcus.
He patted the book he was sitting on. ‘It’s a fact book about ghosts.’
‘Let me see!’ said Mila. She pulled the book out from under Marcus and looked at it.
‘This isn’t a fact book about ghosts,’ she said. ‘It’s a joke book about ghosts.’
‘Really?’ said Marcus. He pretended to be surprised.
‘Yes, really,’ said Mila. She turned the book around. ‘See? It’s called One Hundred Ghastly Ghost Jokes for Boys and Ghouls.’
Marcus shrugged. ‘OK, it is a joke book,’ he said, ‘but I’ve still learnt a lot of useful things from it.’
Mila looked curious. ‘Like what?’
‘Well,’ said Marcus, ‘I know where ghosts post their letters.’
‘Where?’
‘At the ghost office!’ said Marcus. ‘And they buy their food at the ghostery store.’
Mila groaned. ‘I think I’m going to get sick of your ghost jokes very soon.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Marcus. ‘I only have ninety-eight more to go.’
Mila got a notepad out from the pile of books she was sitting on. She picked up one of her plaits and pushed a pencil out of the end. Mila said that plaits were the BEST place to keep PENCILS. That way you never forgot them.
‘Let’s make a to-do list,’ Mila said. ‘Should we have the disco tomorrow?’
Marcus shook his head. ‘No, let’s have it tonight.’
‘Why?’ asked Mila.
‘Because today is Moanday. That is the best day for a ghost disco.’
‘That’s a bad joke,’ said Mila, ‘but it’s a good idea. We’ll have the disco tonight.’
Mila scribbled in her notebook with her plait-pencil.
‘We’ll need spiders,’ she said. ‘Lots of spiders. We’ll let them loose in the Petersons’ flat and they can build webs in there. Ghosts love spider webs. Who wants to collect some spiders?’
‘No, thanks,’ said Marcus. He didn’t really like spiders.
Mila sighed. ‘OK then, I’ll get them,’ she said. ‘I’m not scared.’
‘You’re not scared?’ said Marcus, grinning. ‘I’d better get some scare spray then!’
‘No more jokes!’ said Mila. She grabbed the joke book. She went over to the window and opened it. All the pigeons looked up.
‘Coo coo?’ they said.
The Tinklers understood a bit of bird language. Mila knew that this meant ‘Do you have seed bread for us?’
‘I do have seed bread for you,’ said Mila. ‘But first you must do something for me.’
She put the book on the window ledge. ‘Take this book and drop it into a lake somewhere. Then I’ll give you all the seed bread you can eat.’
‘Coo coo!’ said the pigeons. That meant ‘Get the seed bread ready. We’ll be back soon.’
Two pigeons grabbed the book from the top. Two more grabbed the book from the bottom. Together they flew off with the book.
Marcus was a bit sorry to see the book go, but he decided it didn’t really matter too much.
Mila crawled back under the table.
‘OK, then,’ she said. ‘Let’s get on with our disco plans. Where is my to-do list?’
‘Can’t you find it, Mila?’ said Marcus.
‘No,’ said Mila, looking all around.
‘Then maybe you need spooktacles,’ said Marcus.
That’s why Marcus wasn’t worried about losing his book. He knew all the jokes off by heart anyway.
MILA LEFT TO collect some spiders.
‘While I’m gone, you and Turtle need to make the Petersons’ flat dark,’ she said to Marcus. ‘No ghosts would ever be seen in such a bright place.’
Marcus and Turtle went to look for something they could use to cover the windows in flat number twelve.
‘We could put up some blankets over the windows,’ suggested Marcus.
But then he remembered they didn’t have blankets anymore. The day before they had been in the park. They had seen lots of possums there.
‘They look COLD,’ Mila had said. ‘Let’s give them some blankets.’
So the Tinklers had gone home and cut head holes in their big blankets. Then they had gone and given them to the possums.
‘We could paint the windows black,’ suggested Turtle.
‘Good idea,’ said Marcus. ‘Except we don’t have any black paint left.’
The Tinklers had used up all their black paint the week before. They had painted their bathroom black so they could all pretend they were in outer space.
‘That’s true,’ said Turtle. ‘What do we have?’
‘Boxes,’ said Marcus. ‘We have lots of boxes. Maybe we can cut some up and use them to block up the windows.’
‘Those aren’t boxes!’ said Turtle. She looked worried. ‘Those are my shells. You can’t cut them up.’
‘Why do you need so many shells, anyway?’ asked Marcus.
‘They are all different. One is my sleeping shell. One is my rainy day shell.’
Turtle picked up a bright pink box that was covered in glitter. ‘And this one is my party shell.’
‘And what about that one?’ asked Marcus. He pointed to a box with bits of silver foil stuck to it.
‘That is my spacesuit shell,’ said Turtle. ‘Turtles love to go into outer space.’
Marcus didn’t bother to argue. There was no point. Also he had just had an IDEA.
‘We have a lot of socks,’ he said. ‘Maybe we could stick those on the windows in flat number twelve?’
‘That is your best idea ever,’ said Turtle. ‘I will go and find some glue.’
Marcus didn’t think it really was his best idea ever. He had a feeling that Turtle was just glad he wasn’t going to use her boxes.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll collect the socks.’
Marcus and Turtle took the glue and the socks to flat twelve. Then they got to work. Marcus put glue on the windows. Turtle stuck the socks on.
‘This is fun,’ said Turtle. ‘It’s a bit like doing a JIGSAW PUZZLE where every
piece is shaped like a sock.’
The door opened and Mila came into the flat, looking very proud.
‘Look at all the spiders I collected!’ she said. ‘I got the SCARIEST ones of all. They are red with black spots.’ She held up a big glass jar.
Marcus looked into it. ‘Those aren’t spiders,’ he said, ‘They’re ladybirds.’
Mila frowned. ‘You’re wrong. They’re black spot spiders,’ she said. ‘They’re the most deadly spiders in the world.’
‘Mila,’ said Marcus, ‘they only have six legs. Spiders have eight.’
‘These ones used to have eight legs,’ Mila said. ‘But they lost a few in fights with other spiders.’
‘Sometimes,’ said Marcus, ‘I feel like the only normal one in this family.’
‘You’re so not normal,’ said Mila. ‘You’re sticking socks to the window.’
‘That’s true,’ Marcus agreed. ‘But it’s doing a good job of making the room dark, don’t you think?’
When all the windows were covered with socks, Mila looked around.
‘We need to do some MESSINS UP,’ she said. ‘This place is way too clean!’
She went to the front door and opened it. Outside were some big plastic bags.
‘What’s in the bags?’ asked Marcus.
‘This one’s full of dust,’ said Mila, picking up a bag. ‘And that one’s full of leaves and old dirty paper. We need to spread this stuff all around to make this place nice and messy.’
Messing up is much more fun than tidying up. The Tinklers Three sprinkled the dirt and dust on the floor. They stuck leaves and paper on the walls with glue. Marcus even found a spider in one of the bags. This time it was a real one. It crawled off into a corner and started spinning a WEB.
When the plastic bags were empty, Mila put on some white gloves.
‘I’m going to check that we have made this flat good and dirty,’ she said.
