Danny stomped off, leaving Motley holding the big chip. He was about to drop it in his bag when he sniffed it and then . . . he ate it!
“He ate a chip from Danny’s hair?” Ellie gasped.
“Motley eats anything!” said Martha admiringly.
“Oooh!” I said. “I wonder if that includes Fishpopz?”
The Haunted Collection
The next morning we were all outside the school waiting for Motley to unlock the doors. I had a great big bag to give him, full of you-know-what!
We had all managed to stay awake the night before. I had counted thirty-five DONGs. Martha counted thirty-two, Bianca and Ellie both counted thirty-six, and Ivy said she counted twenty million DONGs, the big fibber. But whatever the number was, it was TOO MANY DONGs.
“I’m feeling very old,” said Ellie. “The time is rushing past!”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Martha. “They’ll get the clock fixed, and then it’ll be all right.”
“But what if they can’t fix it?” said Ellie. “What if my dream was right and it IS a ghost ringing the bell?”
Poor Ellie was shaking a bit, so we all gave her a big team hug.
Unfortunately we didn’t know that Gwendoline Tutt had been standing right behind us and listening. She’s the one who lives in the big fancy house at the far end of Odd Street, and she’s really horrible.
“Hey, listen to this, everybody!” Gwendoline shouted across the playground. “Ellie Slippin thinks there’s a ghost!”
Everybody ignored her except Olivia Livid. Olivia always joins in when Gwendoline is being nasty, so she ran up to Ellie, flapping her arms around.
“WOOO!” shouted Olivia. “WOOO! I’m a ghost!”
Ellie covered her eyes so she couldn’t see.
“Little scared Ellie, knees turned to jelly!” sneered Gwendoline. “Imagine being scared of ghosts! There’s no such thing.”
“How do you know?” demanded Martha.
“Yeah, maybe Ellie’s right!” said Ivy. “Maybe there IS a ghost.”
“A ghost?” said Gwendoline. “Don’t be pathetic.”
“Why not?” said Ivy. “It’s an old school, so it could be the ghost of an old teacher or something.”
“WOOO! I’m a ghost!” went Gwendoline and Olivia together.
Ellie was getting really upset, but then Motley opened the doors. Gwendoline and Olivia rushed inside, but we all hung back so Ellie could get her head together. It gave me the chance to pass the bag to Motley.
“Here’s a present for you,” I said.
“Me?” said Motley. “What is it?”
“Guess!” I said.
Motley opened the big bag and stuck his nose in. I was standing as far away as I could, but the fishy wet-dog smell was worse than ever!
“If you don’t want it, that’s fine,” I said. “I’ll just throw it away.”
I reached out to take it, but Motley wouldn’t let go.
“Oh, no!” he said. “I hate to see good food wasted.”
He stuck his head in the bag again and took another sniff.
“Oh, no,” he said again. “You can’t throw this out.”
And off he went, down to his secret room, which I’ll tell you about later.
We went to the coatroom to hang our coats up. There were some sinks at the far end, so Ellie went to splash a little water on her face to make herself feel better. Gwendoline was hanging around outside, and we ignored her, but when we came out, she said, “Hey, Ellie Jelly-Knees! You must be right about that ghost. Look, it threw your gloves on the floor.”
Ellie looked back. Sure enough, her gloves were lying underneath her coat.
“They were in my pocket!” said Ellie.
“Gwendoline pulled them out,” said Martha crossly.
“I was nowhere near them,” said Gwendoline. “It must be a ghostly hand crawling around!”
Ellie was shivering a bit.
“She’s just being stupid,” said Martha. “Ignore her.”
Ellie took a deep breath to be brave, then went to pick her gloves up. Just as she was tucking them back into her pocket, the sleeve of the coat next to her started moving. It reached up, and then a hand came out of the end and grabbed Ellie’s arm.
“ARGH!” shrieked Ellie.
Martha stomped over and pulled the coat off the peg. Olivia was hiding behind it.
“WOOO! I’m a ghost!” Olivia sneered.
“That was NOT funny,” said Martha.
“Oh, yes, it was!” Gwendoline sniggered. “Honestly, you guys are SO pathetic. Imagine believing in ghosts! We’re going to tell everyone.”
Ghost Fever
Poor Ellie. She spent the morning trying to forget about ghosts, but at recess the whole school was talking about them. Even the little kiddies were running up behind people and shouting, “WOOO! I’m a ghost!”
Little kids are fabulous because they don’t understand the meaning of danger. Miss Barking was on playground duty, and as usual there was a big mess around the trash cans, so as usual she said, “Who made all this mess?”
“It was the ghost!” screamed all the kiddies, and then they made ghostie faces and shouted “WOOO!” and ran off.
Awesome! If I’d done that, Miss Barking would be screaming mad, but of course she can’t be screaming mad around the kiddies in case they wet themselves. All she could do was look in her folder for a leaflet about ghosts, and then when she couldn’t find one, she stomped inside to sulk— ha ha!
Everybody thought it was really funny except Ellie, but then I saw something to cheer her up. Jake Frost had taken Danny over to the main entrance and was daring him to push the button for the door buzzer and go “WOOO!” into the intercom. Danny was giggling, but I knew he was scared. I didn’t blame him!
If you don’t think this sounds very exciting, then you’ve never met Miss Wizzit. She’s our school receptionist, and she is NOT a happy little ray of sunshine. She hates cars parked in the wrong place, she hates wet umbrellas in the hall, she hates the phone ringing when she’s secretly painting her toenails under her desk (I know because I caught her doing it once—ha ha!), but most of all she DOUBLE HATES people playing with the door buzzer.
“Come on, Ellie,” I said. “Let’s get inside and see what happens.”
“We can’t just go and spy on Miss Wizzit!” said Ellie.
“Of course we can,” I said. I put my arm around Ellie’s shoulders so she could hold me up, and then I started limping toward the back door. “If anybody asks, I’ve just twisted my knee.”
Ellie helped me hobble into the office, where we saw Miss Wizzit standing on a chair. She was trying to pin a calendar to the wall, so obviously Danny hadn’t been brave enough to push the buzzer yet.
We sat down, and then I moaned and groaned a bit while Ellie pretended to rub my knee better. If there’s one thing you can rely on, it’s that the more fuss you make, the more Miss Wizzit will ignore you, which is exactly what we wanted.
She slipped off her shoe and was using it to hammer a thumbtack when the front door buzzer went BZZZZZZZZZZ.
She got down and put the tack on the chair, then pushed the button on her desk. She was still holding her shoe with the other hand. “Wizzit?” said Miss Wizzit.
“WOOO!” said Danny’s voice.
“Who?” said Miss Wizzit.
“No,” said Danny. “WOOO.”
“WHO?” demanded Miss Wizzit, giving her shoe an angry shake.
“WOOO! It’s the GHOST!”
Miss Wizzit dashed over to the door and pulled it open. Danny and Jake were running off, so without thinking, she hurled her shoe after them, then slammed the door shut—WHAM!
Then she looked down and saw her bare foot with five little toes wiggling at her.
“GRRRR!” said Miss Wizzit.
She yanked the door open again and went hopping across the playground to rescue her shoe.
Ellie was the happiest I’d seen her all day. “Miss Wiz
zit throwing her shoe away is the BEST thing I’ve ever seen in my WHOLE LIFE!” She giggled.
When Miss Wizzit came back in, we were rubbing my knee and pretending not to watch her and trying not to laugh all at the same time, but then it got even better!
Miss Barking came in just as Miss Wizzit was getting back up on her chair. “I hope you’re not going to climb on that chair, Miss Wizzit!”
“Why not?” snapped Miss Wizzit.
“The only thing that’s safe to climb is a ladder,” said Miss Barking.
“But you’ve locked the ladder up!” snapped Miss Wizzit.
“A chair is safe enough,” said Miss Wizzit.
“Chairs are only safe for sitting on,” said Miss B., and then she reached into her fat folder and pulled out one of her HOW TO SIT ON A CHAIR leaflets and waved it in Miss Wizzit’s face.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” said Miss Barking, and then she sat down, right on Miss Wizzit’s thumbtack.
“YOW!” she yelped, and jumped up again. “Who left that tack there?” she demanded, rubbing her bottom crossly.
Miss Wizzit gave her a long stare. Then an evil smile came to her face.
“It was the ghost,” said Miss Wizzit. “WOOO.”
Ellie was laughing so much, it was ME that had to hold HER up when we walked back to the classroom!
The Mysterious Window
By the time Ellie and me got to class, we were a little bit late, but it was okay because our teacher is Miss Pingle, who we like a LOT. She’s a new teacher and about one hundred years younger than the other teachers, and she’s got groovy hair that changes color every week. (This week’s color = emerald green. She said it was deep and rich like her personality, but we thought it made her head look like a giant pea—ha ha!)
Miss Pingle didn’t notice me and Ellie sneaking in because the window had come open. It’s really high up and the class was getting cold, so Miss P. was being EXTREMELY NAUGHTY. She had climbed onto a table to shut it (gasp, shock, horror—how wicked!), but she was nowhere near high enough.
“That’s not how to do it,” I said.
“So what am I supposed to do?” asked Miss P.
“You have to guard the door,” I said. “Then Ivy climbs up.”
“Ivy?” said Miss Pingle.
“Ivy,” we said.
Before Miss Pingle could say anything, Ivy had jumped onto a desk and then walked over two more to get to the tall shelves. Ivy is an expert. When we were little kiddies in Miss Bunn’s class, Miss Bunn was always busy helping the other kiddies with their paintings, so when she wasn’t looking, Ivy used to practice climbing all the way around the room without touching the floor. The only time it went wrong was when she slipped on the edge of the sink. She ended up sitting in the water and had to go and get some dry tights and undies from Miss Wizzit’s “little accident” cabinet! Good times.
In our class there’s a water pipe running near the top of the wall that Ivy needed to swing along, and the tricky part for Ivy was reaching out from the shelves to grab it. If Ivy fell off, she’d have landed on the computer, so watching her took nerves of steel.
Unfortunately Miss P. didn’t have nerves of steel.
“Ivy, get down!” she said. “I’ll shut the window.”
“But you have to keep watch by the door,” I said.
“Don’t be silly,” said Miss P. “I’m the teacher, for goodness’ sake! I’m not keeping watch for Ivy.”
Ivy got down, and then Miss Pingle tried again. She got one of the small tables and put it on the table by the window. Then she put a chair on top of it. We were so busy watching her climb up that we didn’t notice the classroom door open.
“Miss Pingle!” shrieked Miss Barking. “You’re supposed to be a teacher, NOT a monkey!”
Miss Pingle climbed down and put the chair and table back on the floor. It was really embarrassing for her, so we all pretended to be reading and doing our work.
“If you need to shut that window, you must use the ladder,” said Miss Barking.
“I’ll go get it,” said Miss Pingle.
“You can’t,” said Miss Barking. “I’ve locked it up so people can’t use it.”
“But that’s silly,” said Miss Pingle.
Miss Barking hissed angily.
(Me and Ellie weren’t surprised that she was in such a bad mood. She probably still had a sore bottom from sitting on Miss Wizzit’s thumbtack!)
Miss Barking took Miss Pingle out into the hall, and we could hear her scolding Miss P. for climbing on the furniture. Of course, as soon as they were gone, Martha went to keep watch at the door, and Ivy was back on the shelves, leaping across to grab the pipe.
By the time Miss Pingle came back into the classroom, we were all back in our seats being good little children.
Miss Barking stuck her head through the door. “Remember what I said. That window will stay open until . . . EH?”
She looked up and saw that the window was shut.
“How did that happen?” she said.
We all looked up and GASPED and pretended it was a big surprise. Ivy even fell off her chair and fainted onto the floor in shock—ha ha!
Miss Barking looked around suspiciously, but we were all at our desks, there were no chairs and tables piled up, and of course it would have been quite impossible for any of us nice little people to reach that window.
“I don’t understand,” said Miss Barking. “Did anyone see what happened?”
Nobody said anything, so Miss Barking walked around, giving us all scary stares. She stopped next to Ellie because she knew Ellie was the easiest person to frighten. Poor Ellie was shivering in fear, but I knew she wouldn’t let us down.
“Maybe . . . maybe it was the ghost,” said Ellie.
GOOD ONE, ELLIE!
“WOOO! It’s the ghost!” said everybody.
“There is NO ghost!” snapped Miss Barking, but then she looked up at the high window again and rubbed her sore bottom. “Is there?”
Miss Barking went away looking very worried.
Of course Miss Pingle knew exactly what had happened.
“Ivy Malting, come here.”
Ivy walked up to the front. Miss Pingle was making her really serious face.
“I want you to tell that ghost never to touch my windows again! Do you understand?”
“Yes, Miss Pingle,” said Ivy.
“Oh, and Ivy?” said Miss P.
“What?” said Ivy.
“Tell the ghost I said thank you.”
A big cheer and a round of applause for Miss Pingle—WAHOO! Clap, clap, clap!
She is just SO cool.
The Bell and the Bipper Sloots
That night, the bell went bonkers.
DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! and DONG! DONG! DONG!
It must have rung about a hundred DONGs when I heard Mom get up and go downstairs, so I went to find her. She was in the kitchen wearing her nightie and having a glass of water.
“I wish they’d fix that bell,” she said.
“Ellie says a ghost is ringing it,” I told her.
“Well, I wish he’d stop it,” said Mom.
Then we heard some voices out on the sidewalk. I looked through the curtains and saw it was Martha and Ivy with their moms. They had their coats on over their nightclothes and were talking about the bell, but then guess who came running down the street to join them?
It was Ellie! I never thought she’d be out at night, especially with all those spooky DONGs going on.
“I’m going out too,” I said.
“No, you are not,” said Mom.
Then Dad stuck his head in through the kitchen door.
“Come on, Agatha!” he said. “Let’s go out and see what’s going on.”
Good old Dad! I dashed to the hall and got my coat on.
Mom gave in and followed me. She took a good look at Dad. He was wearing his old raincoat, and underneath it he had on his ratty bedtime T-shirt and shorts, plus . . . on his feet he
had Mom’s woolly slipper boots, which had knitted eyes and little ears sticking out of them!
“We won’t be long,” said Dad.
“Be as long as you like,” said Mom rudely. “I’m in no rush to see anyone coming home dressed like that.”
As soon as we stepped outside, Ivy ran up and gave me a big hug.
“It’s AGATHA!” she shouted.
“Shhh, child of mine!” said Ivy’s mom. “If you shout like that in the night, you’ll wake the dead.”
Martha’s mom looked at Dad and giggled. “It looks like one of the dead is already awake!” she said.
“WOOO!” said me and Martha.
The bell was still DONGing, so we walked down to the school gates.
As we went past number 1, Bianca came out with her mom and dad, which was great because Bianca’s dad always seems sort of serious. Not tonight! He had slipper boots on exactly the same as my dad did.
“Snap!” they both said, waving their feet at each other.
“It’s embarrassing when your dad wears your mom’s slipper boots, isn’t it?” I whispered to Bianca.
“It’s worse for me,” said Bianca. “Dad isn’t wearing Mom’s bipper sloots. Those are HIS bipper sloots.”
“Bipper sloots?” we all said.
“She means slipper boots!” Ellie giggled.
HA HA HA HA!
I was really glad that Ellie’s mom had let her come out. Being with us was a lot more fun for her than worrying about the bell, especially when Bianca’s dad brought out some drinks, and Martha’s mom fetched a giant box of cookies! It’s hard to be scared when you’re having a midnight picnic in the street along with two men wearing bipper sloots.
We were all having so much fun that it was a long time before we realized the bell had stopped.
“It’s just resting,” said Martha. “It does that. It’ll ring again soon.”
“Let’s all hold our breath until it rings,” said Ivy.
So me and Ivy and Martha and Bianca and Ellie held our breath until the next DONG. And we waited and we waited . . .
Agatha Parrot and the Odd Street School Ghost Page 2
