Ghost Detectors Volume 1 (15 page)

They both nodded, afraid to speak.

“Now take your seats!”

They scrambled to get their sneakers off. Once they were seated, Mrs. Goolsby drilled them through a morning of nonstop lectures,
lessons, and practice sheets. Malcolm wondered if it was possible for a person's brain to overload and short-circuit.

•
    
•
    
•

“Getting mud on our shoes turned out to be lucky,” Malcolm told Dandy as the other kids lined up for recess.

Dandy scrunched his eyebrows. “Why was that lucky? She's scarier than the ghost fisherman!”

Malcolm grinned. “It was lucky because the computer lab is empty this time of day.”

“We can't clean our shoes in the computer lab!” Dandy argued. “We'll get detention.”

“We're not going to clean our shoes, silly,” Malcolm said impatiently.

Panic flashed across Dandy's face. “If we don't clean our shoes, we'll get detention for sure!”

“We'll clean our shoes later. Follow me, we've got ghost hunting to do.”

Dandy followed, trudging like he still had his backpack on. He held his dirty sneakers by the laces, letting them sway with each step. Dried dirt flew with every swing.

Malcolm carefully closed the door to the computer lab, then dug his camera out of his pants pocket.

“Oh, I get it,” Dandy said.

Malcolm typed his school password into one of the computers, then connected the camera. It was no surprise when he checked the uploaded pictures.

In the first photo, the fisherman sat on top of the marquee. Today it had said:
Volleyball tryouts tonight! Go Hornets!
But
Tell No One!
had replaced
Go Hornets!
once again.

In the next photo, the fisherman was giving a droopy-eyed janitor bunny ears. The fisherman was grinning goofily, but the janitor had no idea.
Tell No One!
was now on the janitor's mop bucket.

In the library photo, he stood next to the 700 section. It seemed pretty fitting that he was in section where the “fishing for kids” books were shelved. He was holding up the book
Tell No One for Dummies.

Malcolm wasn't surprised that every picture had the words
TELL NO ONE!
He just wished he knew what that meant.

“Malcolm, recess is almost over,” Dandy whispered. “I'm way more scared of Mrs. Goolsby than of a ghost giving bunny ears. Can we go clean our shoes before the bell rings?”

Malcolm sighed. “Yeah, just give me another second.” He printed out all three of the pictures and tucked them under his shirt. Then he and Dandy headed for the restroom to clean off their sneakers.

M
alcolm dropped his load of school books on the kitchen table, then looked over his homework assignments.
Maybe I should transfer to military school,
he thought.
It'd be a lot easier.
He plopped himself down in a chair.

The house was particularly quiet. Dad was still at work. Mom and Cocoa were out shopping for more new school clothes—even though they'd bought Cocoa a closetful last weekend! Girls!

Grandma Eunice came walking in, pushing her wheelchair in front of her. Everyone else in the family thought she was weak and had lost her mind. Grandma played along so she could get out of doing household chores, but Malcolm knew the truth. It was their secret.

“Grandma, why do you even own that stupid wheelchair? I know you don't need it.”

Grandma turned the chair toward the table. “ Your mom thinks I'm too weak to walk on my own. But, I keep it so I'll always have a chair handy.” She demonstrated by sitting down. Then she took a banana from the bowl and began peeling.

“Look at all this homework,” Malcolm said. “My new teacher is tough.”

Grandma Eunice clacked her false teeth around, getting ready for a bite. “That's nothing,” she stated. “Back in my day . . .”

Here we go again!
Malcolm thought.

“. . . I had wake up at four
A
.
M
. to milk the cows before walking seven miles to school barefoot. The teacher would beat us with a rattlesnake if we were just five minutes tardy!”

“A rattlesnake?” Malcolm said, not believing it one bit.

“And we didn't have all those fancy computers and calculators. It was all done up here.” She tapped the side of her head. A piece of yucky banana string stuck to her hair.

She went on, “You all whine and worry when
your computers won't boot up. We whined and worried when our pencils wore down. And we didn't have those gliding gel pens like your sister writes her love poems with.”

Malcolm knew then that Grandma Eunice had been sneaking through Cocoa's things. It was about time, too. After all, she'd been borrowing his specter detector to find Grandpa Bertram all summer.

“We had fountain pens,” she rumbled. “Fountain pens with inkwells. It was a mess! Splotchy papers . . . stained fingers and ink spots on your favorite clothes—”

“Yeah,” Malcolm interrupted. “Those were the good old days.”

“You're darn tooting!” Grandma said. She crammed the banana into her mouth and mushed down with her choppers.

Malcolm opened his science book. Science was his favorite subject— especially the current lesson on mapping the constellations.

He tried to concentrate, but his mind kept straying back to the mysterious fisherman. Plus, Grandma Eunice was making outrageously loud smacking noises with her teeth.

Malcolm looked up as she flung the banana peel over her shoulder, scoring a two-pointer as it hit the trash. He shook his head as she celebrated.

“Grandma,” he started, “you're good at keeping secrets, right?”

Grandma Eunice shrugged. “Even if I told, who'd believe me?”

A good point, but still Malcolm hesitated. He wanted to show her the photos. He could
use another opinion, but the messages clearly said
TELL NO ONE!
And if there was one thing Malcolm had learned in his lifetime, it was never take an exclamation point lightly. But then again . . .

“Does this have to do with your ghost hunting?” Grandma asked.

“Yeah,” Malcolm said, sheepishly. He showed her the photos and updated her on what had happened so far. “Do you know him?”

Grandma shook her head. “No, I've never seen him before.”

“Why do you think he keeps appearing if he doesn't want me to tell anyone?”

“You can't trust a fisherman, Malcolm. They'll make up a whopper of a fish tale without blinking. I remember once when Grandpa Bertram went fishing with some of his pals. Tried to convince me that he'd reeled up a barracuda, hopped on its back, and rode it like he was in the rodeo.”

“And you didn't believe him?”

Grandma rolled her eyes. “That barracuda would be stuffed and hanging on the wall if it were true.”

“So you think the ghost is making this up and really wants me to tell?” he asked, reaching up and plucking the banana string from her hair.

Grandma Eunice stared him straight in the eyes. “Maybe you should go ask him.”

After thinking it over for about thirty seconds, Malcolm went to the phone and called Dandy. “We've got to go back to the school.”

Dandy gasped. “Are you kidding me? Our weekly vocabulary list is longer than the dictionary, and I'm still trying to figure out how to connect the dots on these constellations.”

“We can do our homework together later. Get your bike and meet me on the corner.” Malcolm hung up and began gathering his supplies. He had fishing to do.