Amelia Bedelia Scared Silly

by Herman Parish

  “That is so creepy,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  Her father shrugged, like it was no big deal. He leaned down to untangle Finally’s paw caught in gauze.

  “Looks like it’s back to the drawing board on the costume, sweetie,” said her mother.

  Amelia Bedelia shook her head. “I don’t want to be an artist.”

  As soon as Amelia Bedelia was done with dinner, she began unwrapping herself. There were a lot of layers of gauze to untangle. “This is going to take forever,” she said.

  “Need your mummy?” asked her father.

  “To unravel you?” her mother finished.

  Amelia Bedelia looked at her parents. Then they all burst out laughing.

  “Hey, Amelia Bedelia, want to play foursquare?” Daisy asked the next day at recess.

  “Sure!” said Amelia Bedelia. But just as they were about to start the game, someone grabbed her arm. She turned around. It was Candy.

  “Please tell us another ghost story?” Candy asked. “You’re so good at it.”

  “Um, okay,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  Amelia Bedelia hoped she would be inspired on the walk across the playground. By the time they reached the stump, a group of her friends had gathered, eager for more spooky tales as well. But Amelia Bedelia’s mind was a complete blank.

  Candy plopped down next to the stump and rested her elbows on it. “So where is this inn, exactly?” she asked. “Can we visit it after we go trick-or-treating? We can hunt for ghosts.” She hugged herself. “That would be the spookiest Halloween ever!”

  “I—I . . . um . . . ,” stammered Amelia Bedelia. She hadn’t planned for this. Maybe telling Candy ghost stories wasn’t such a great idea after all!

  “Ready when you are,” said Candy.

  “Um . . . uh,” stalled Amelia Bedelia.

  Then Holly spoke up. “I know this story, Amelia Bedelia. Let me tell it.

  “After Ebenezer died, the truth came out. The traveler hadn’t disappeared. Some neighbors of Ebenezer’s had taken pity on the traveler and had given him and his horse a place to spend the night. The neighbors, tired of Ebenezer being mean all the time, had decided to teach him a lesson. But they went too far and scared him to death. Ebenezer had no heirs, so the inn went up for auction, and one of the neighbors bought it for a song.”

  “Wow,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I didn’t know you could do that. He must have been a good singer.”

  “The neighbor—his name was Mr. Gory—painted the inn and put up a new sign, and he was just about to open it for business. But that very night, as a full moon rose in the sky, Mr. Gory awoke with a start. There was a terrible racket. Someone was banging on the inn door. But when he opened it, no one was there.

  “He got back into bed, pulled up the covers, and went back to sleep. But a few minutes later he awoke with a start. Someone was shaking him violently. And before his unbelieving eyes stood the ghost of Ebenezer, in his long nightshirt, holding a candle. ‘Help me!’ Ebenezer begged. ‘Make him go away!’

  “Mr. Gory was terrified. He ran out of the house, screaming his head off. But when he and the rest of the neighbors returned at dawn, the inn had been burned to the ground. In the smoking ashes, they found just one thing—a gleaming red apple.”

  Amelia Bedelia looked at Candy. Now her new friend had a big smile on her face.

  “Cool! A baked apple,” Candy said.

  Heather leaned over. “Holly really saved our bacon,” she said softly in Amelia Bedelia’s ear.

  Amelia Bedelia gave Heather a funny look. “Never mind breakfast,” she whispered back. “She totally took care of our haunted house problem!”

  .6.

  See You Later, Regurgitator!

  “We are going to have a special guest this afternoon,” said Ms. Garcia the next day in science. “Someone who really appreciates birds of prey and wants to participate in our class activity.” Amelia Bedelia and her friends looked at one another. Who could it be?

  There was a knock at the door. Angel, who was closest, got up to open it. The class gasped as Mrs. Shauk walked in.

  “They don’t call me Shauk the Hawk for nothing,” said Mrs. Shauk, squeezing herself into an empty desk chair.

  “What is the mystery activity?” Joy asked, once their teacher was settled in.

  Ms. Garcia smiled. “It’s a very special one. It’s really perfect for you Halloween fans. It has to do with owl nutrition. What do you think owls like to eat?” she asked.

  “Mice?” said Pat.

  “And other rodents,” added Joy.

  “How about bugs?” suggested Penny.

  “Anything else?” asked Ms. Garcia.

  The class was silent.

  Mrs. Shauk raised her hand.

  “Yes, Mrs. Shauk?” said Ms. Garcia.

  “Depending on their size,” she said, “owls eat all those things, and snakes, fish, birds, frogs—even other small mammals.”

  “Very good,” said Ms. Garcia. “As we know, owls have beaks,” she continued. “But what don’t they have?”

  “Whiskers?” guessed Wade.

  “That’s true,” said Ms. Garcia. “But I was thinking more of something they would eat with.”

  “Silverware,” said Cliff.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Oh, I know,” said Joy. “Teeth!”

  “That’s right. Owls do not have teeth. That means that they can’t chew their food. So they tear it with their beaks and sometimes even swallow it whole. Then they digest the digestible parts. But the parts that they can’t digest, like bones and teeth and fur and feathers, are formed into pellets, which is what we are going to dissect today.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Skip. “Are you saying that we’re going to cut up owl poop?”

  Ms. Garcia held up a hand. “After the nutrients have been absorbed, the owl then regurgitates the pellets. So it’s actually more like owl vomit.”

  “I’m going to lose my lunch!” said Dawn.

  “Don’t worry,” said Amelia Bedelia. “If that ever happened, I’d share mine with you.”

  “Now, the pellets come to us sterilized, but to be extra cautious we are going to wear protective gloves. Mrs. Shauk will be handing out newspaper. After you cover your desk, you will get a pellet, some toothpicks, tweezers, and a magnifying glass. You should take your pellet apart carefully with the toothpicks. Then pick out the contents with the tweezers and discover what your owl had for dinner! The bones are very delicate, so be careful. You may also find feathers, fur, and other objects. You’ll each get a chart so you can identify which bones belong to which animal. These are barn owl pellets, so be prepared to find lots of rodents.”

  “Could we find a pearl?” said Teddy.

  “No, owls don’t eat oysters,” said Heather.

  “This is so cool!” said Clay, giving Heather a high five.

  Penny got straight to work, taking apart her pellet with precision.

  The other students were slower to get started. Rose looked especially disgusted. But before long, everyone was intently dissecting their pellets.

  “Look at those tiny ribs!” Penny exclaimed.

  Amelia Bedelia took a deep breath and studied her pellet. It was oval, dark, and dry looking, only a couple of inches long. Luckily, it didn’t smell at all. She began to pull it apart with her toothpicks. The insides were dense, almost like the lint in the dryer at home. After gently rooting around, she spotted something. She picked it up with her tweezers and examined it through the magnifying glass. It was a skull, tiny and delicate. She held up the chart and tried to make a match. She was pretty sure it belonged to a vole, whatever that was.

  By the end of the class, everyone was quite pleased with themselves. Mrs. Shauk had assembled an almost complete mouse skeleton. “No bones about it,” she said, “that was a great activity. Thanks for letting me bone up on owls with you today.”

  “Oh, there’s more to come!” said Ms. Garcia. She was standing by the door, handing out
sheets of paper. “Get these permission slips signed by your parents. We’re going on an owl walk at Culloden Point Park on Friday evening.” She turned to Mrs. Shauk. “You’re invited to come too, of course.”

  Mrs. Shauk smiled. “We’re going to have a great time,” she said. “I can feel it in my bones!”

  Amelia Bedelia winced. That sounded super painful to her. Ouch!

  “Did you know that owls throw up pellets full of the parts of their food they can’t digest?” Amelia Bedelia said that evening at dinner. “Like bones and skulls and beaks?”

  “Oh my,” said her mother, setting down her fork.

  “As a general rule, we avoid talking about vomit at the dinner table,” said her father. He got a twinkle in his eye. “Maybe you could say that the owl upchucked? Or tossed its cookies?”

  Amelia Bedelia shook her head. “Owls don’t eat cookies, Daddy,” she said. “They eat rodents and bugs, plus snakes, fish, birds, frogs, and even small mammals. Everyone dissected their very own owl pellet today in science class. Even Mrs. Shauk. Mine had a vole skull in it, and some bones. Oh, and a little bit of fur too. It was pretty awesome.”

  “Hey, puddin’,” said her mother. “Have you figured out your costume yet? It’s almost Halloween!”

  “Not yet,” said Amelia Bedelia. “But I found a pink dress from when I was little, so I was thinking Finally could be a princess and I could wear my green pajamas and a crown and be a prince that turned into a fr—” She narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Hey, are you trying to change the subject?” she asked.

  “You bet your boots,” her mother replied.

  Amelia Bedelia looked down at her feet. “Now why would I want to do that?” she asked.

  .7.

  Candy Loves Candies

  “I’m ready for another ghost story,” said Candy the next day at recess. Amelia Bedelia and her friends stared at one another. Amelia Bedelia bit her lip. And then, finally, to everyone’s relief, Joy spoke up.

  “It was many, many years after the Swing Inn burned down,” she started. “A mother and her daughter were on a road trip, driving through town. It started to rain, lightly at first, and then harder and harder. Soon they couldn’t see out the car windows. They pulled over, and to their great relief, saw a sign for an inn through the mist.

  “They parked and ran inside. The innkeeper said he had a nice room for them. They were tired, so they went straight to bed. The next morning, they couldn’t find the innkeeper anywhere, so they wrote a note thanking him, put the money they owed on a table, and left.

  “They were hungry, so they went to a local diner for breakfast. The waitress was friendly, and they began chatting. When she found out that they were on a road trip she said, ‘I hope you weren’t driving through that terrible rain last night.’

  “‘Oh no,’ the mother replied. ‘We found the inn here and stayed the night.’

  “The waitress shook her head. ‘Our town doesn’t have an inn. You must have stayed in another town.’

  “‘No,’ said the daughter. ‘We stayed here, at the Swing Inn.’

  “The waitress laughed. ‘Oh, you’re joking!’ she said. ‘The Swing Inn burned down almost a hundred years ago.’ The mother and daughter tried to argue, but the waitress insisted that the Swing Inn was no more.

  “They quickly finished their breakfast and decided to go find the inn and prove the waitress wrong. They drove back and forth several times but couldn’t find it. Finally they got out of the car and walked to the place they were sure the inn had been.

  “All they found was rubble and an old foundation that smelled of smoke. But there, on the ground, sat their money and their note. And right next to it . . . a shiny red apple.”

  “Oooooh, that made me shiver!” said Candy, rubbing her arms.

  “Pass more pasta,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “What?” asked Candy. “Where’s the pasta?”

  “Never mind,” said Amelia Bedelia. It was too complicated to explain.

  “Hey,” said Teddy. “I heard that my dentist, Dr. Dixon, is handing out toothbrushes to trick-or-treaters.”

  “Another house to add to our Do Not Visit list,” said Penny.

  “Who else is on the Do Not Visit list?” asked Candy.

  “Well, Mrs. Martin gives out pennies, and the Bridgers always hand out boxes of raisins,” Teddy explained.

  Candy made a face. “Yikes,” she said.

  “But we know all the houses to hit first,” Dawn assured her. “Like the Bhagats. They give full-size candy bars every year. You want to get there before they run out. Stick with us. We have a system that never fails.”

  “I love candy,” said Candy.

  Amelia Bedelia and her friends laughed.

  “Who doesn’t?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  The bell rang. Recess was over.

  Skip was the first to arrive back at the classroom. He gasped. “What—?” He stopped short, and Amelia Bedelia bumped right into him. She peered around him. There was a single apple sitting in front of the classroom door.

  “But—but . . . ,” stammered Pat.

  “It’s the ghost of Ebenezer!” whispered Rose.

  Amelia Bedelia nudged her. “Did you forget we made the whole thing up?” she whispered.

  Heather approached Skip. “Did you put that there, trying to scare us?” she asked.

  “Yeah, Skip, are you up to your old tricks?” asked Holly.

  “He’s not a magician,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “I never said he was a magician,” said Holly. “But he used to be a practical joker!”

  “Then he’d be up to his old jokes, not tricks,” argued Amelia Bedelia.

  Skip took a step back. “I’m not up to any jokes or tricks,” he said. “I’m as scared as you are!”

  “I’m not scared, and I’m not falling for this,” said Joy. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “You were born the same year as me,” said Amelia Bedelia. Then she felt another pass-more-pasta shiver. She hugged herself tight. Could their town really be haunted?

  .8.

  But the Tricker Is Quicker

  “You have a great time, sweetie,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father as she unbuckled her seat belt and flung open the car door.

  “Hey, Amelia Bedelia!” called Chip.

  Amelia Bedelia waved and headed over to join her friends. They were waiting for the bus that would take them to the park for their owl walk. It felt strange to be waiting for a school bus in the dark. At last it pulled up, coming to a stop with a squeal of its brakes.

  “Hello, Ms. Chang,” Amelia Bedelia sang out to the bus driver as she bounded up the steps to be the first on board.

  “Hello, Amelia Bedelia,” Ms. Chang replied. “You must have ants in your pants tonight!”

  Amelia Bedelia laughed. “No I don’t!” she said. How uncomfortable would that be? She walked to the back of the bus where the bounciest seats were. She sat down and scooted toward the window.

  “Is this seat taken?” asked Dawn.

  Amelia Bedelia looked at her friend. “No,” she said, patting the seat next to her. “It’s still here.”

  Dawn plopped down just as the bus lurched forward. “That was so weird yesterday,” she said. “Do you think our ghost stories are coming true?”

  Amelia Bedelia shook her head. “When I got home from school, I told my parents what happened. They think it’s just someone playing a trick.”

  “That’s what my dad said too,” said Dawn. She shrugged. “They’re probably right.”

  “It’s too weird otherwise,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “And scary,” added Dawn.

  “But who is it?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  Dawn shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “Psst! Psst!” said Cliff, turning around in his seat. “Who wants to hear a ghost story?”

  “I don’t think I do,” said Penny. “After what happened yesterday.”

  “Oh, I think you’l
l all like this one,” Cliff said. “It’s a story from right before the Swing Inn burned down.” He motioned to Clay.

  “So the neighbor who bought the inn, Mr. Gory, had spent all day painting and renovating, and he was very tired. He got into bed and was reading a book by candlelight, when suddenly he heard a sound downstairs. He sat bolt upright. ‘Who’s there?’ he called.”

  “‘I am the ghost of the bloody finger, in the living room,’” Clay rasped in a scratchy whisper.

  Dawn scooted closer to Amelia Bedelia.

  “Mr. Gory gasped and pulled the blankets to his chin,” said Cliff. “But the voice was coming closer.”

  “‘I am the ghost of the bloody finger, on the stairs,’” Clay growled.

  “‘Go away!’ Mr. Gory begged. ‘Just go away!’ But the voice was getting even closer,” said Cliff, waggling his eyebrows.

  Clay continued. “‘I am the ghost of the bloody finger, in the hallway!’”

  “Mr. Gory pulled the covers over his head,” said Cliff. “He could hardly breathe. And the voice was closer still.”

  Clay’s voice rose. “‘I am the ghost of the bloody finger, in the bedroom.’”

  “‘Leave me alone, please,’ Mr. Gory begged,” whispered Cliff. “And the voice said . . .”

  “‘Do you have a Band-Aid?’” finished Clay.

  The bus was quiet. Everyone stared at Cliff and Clay for a moment. Then they all burst out laughing.

  Except for Candy. “I only like scary ghost stories,” she said.

  When they arrived at Culloden Point Park, a ranger was waiting for them in the parking lot. Amelia Bedelia could just make out her crisp brown-and-green uniform in the dim light. A brimmed hat sat on her long, dark hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail. There was a flashlight on her belt and a backpack slung over her shoulder.

  “Hello, everyone,” she said. “My name is Ranger Eleni, and I will be taking you on your owl walk tonight.”

  “Hello, Ranger Eleni,” said Ms. Garcia. “We’re so excited to be here. We’ve been studying owls all week, and we’re really hoping to see one tonight.”