Ghost Detectors Volume 1 (2 page)

“Hey, Malcolm. What are we going to fu—fu—uh—fusion?”

“Money,” Malcolm said. “I have an idea that I think will help the economy.”

Dandy scratched his head. “What's the economy?”

Dandy was a great best friend, but for a ten-year-old, he sure didn't know much. Malcolm sighed and patiently explained, “The economy has to do with earning and spending money.”

Dandy picked his nose. “Doesn't sound very scientific.”

“Wait 'til you see what I'm going to do. You know when something costs 97¢, and you have
to dig in your pocket to find three quarters, two dimes, and two pennies?”

Dandy silently counted on his fingers to double-check.

“Well, most people hate having change jingling around in their pockets, so they have to give the clerk a dollar bill. Then they get back three pennies, which means they still have change jingling around in their pockets.”

“Okay,” Dandy said with a blank face.

“Well, why should change be separate? Wouldn't it be easier to buy something for 97¢ if the three quarters, two dimes, and two pennies were stuck together?”

Dandy nodded his head. “Oh yeah, I get it. Like with superglue?”

“No,” Malcolm said, rolling his eyes. “We'll fuse it together. Then we'll present our idea to the government and win a medal from the president.”

“Cool,” Dandy said, picking his nose again. “So, do you want me to sneak your sister's blow-dryer?”

“No. I want you to loan me 97¢.”

“Will I get it back?” Dandy asked.

Malcolm grinned. “All in one piece.”

Dandy stood with his mouth wide open as Malcolm brought out his newest prize.

“Wow! Is that your mom's curling iron?” Dandy asked.

“No,” Malcolm said. “It's my latest find. And close your mouth before you swallow a fly.”

Dandy snapped his mouth shut—for a moment. “Where'd you find it?”

“In the back of one of my magazines,” Malcolm answered. “It's made especially for fusing metal. When I turn it on, a red-hot laser will melt the money together. Are you ready?”

Malcolm stacked the coins on the counter, biggest on the bottom. He pointed his fusion wand, then flipped the switch.

No humming. No buzzing. No whirring. Just a click.

A thin stream of white light shone down on the coins.

“I thought the laser would be red,” Dandy said.

“Shhhh,” Malcolm snapped, giving Dandy a warning look. “It's hot. Like a white flame.”

The boys stared at the money. Dandy sniffled. “If it's that hot, wouldn't it burn a hole in the counter?”

Malcolm didn't answer, even though it was a good question. “Time's up,” he finally said, clicking off the fusion wand.

Both boys inched slowly toward the table.

“Shouldn't there be smoke?” Dandy asked.

“Gosh, Dandy, don't you know anything? Lasers heat differently than fire.”

They leaned forward, their noses just inches from the coins.

“Shouldn't it smell hot?” Dandy asked.

Malcolm reached his pointer finger toward the money. Slowly . . . slowly . . . slowly . . .

Dandy wiggled impatiently. “Well? Did the change . . . uh . . . change?”

Malcolm's finger touched the stack, and it came toppling down. He picked up one of the pennies. It wasn't even warm.

“What went wrong?” he muttered.

“Did you read the instructions?” Dandy asked.

“I couldn't. They were in Japanese.”

Dandy picked up the fusion wand and turned it over. In tiny letters near the handle he read:
Mr. Laser Fun Flashlight—Galactic Toy Co.

“I think I found the problem,” he said, handing the flashlight to Malcolm.

Malcolm plunked himself down on an old beanbag chair. “Ripped off again! What do I do now?”

Dandy picked his nose and suggested, “Superglue?”

M
alcolm dragged himself to breakfast the next morning. His pajamas were drooping and his hair was spiked from bed head.

His sister, Cocoa, and Grandma Eunice were already at the table. Cocoa was wearing blinding neon lip gloss that made her mouth look radioactive. Grandma Eunice just sat and ate her bran flakes and prunes. She was actually Malcolm's great-grandmother, and he thought she was probably older than electricity.

“Hey, coconut,” Malcolm grunted.

“Mom! Malcolm called me coconut again!” Cocoa pouted.

Mom flipped a pancake. “Malcolm, don't call your sister ‘coconut.'”

“It's your fault, Mom,” Cocoa whined. “If
you'd given me a real name, I wouldn't have this problem.”

“But sweetie,” Mom said. “Your grandmother's name was Cocoa. Aren't you honored to be named after your grandmother?”

Malcolm gave Cocoa a wicked grin. “She could have named you after a different grandmother. How about we start calling you Eunice?”

Grandma Eunice looked up from her cereal and smiled. “That's nice.”

Cocoa shot Malcolm a piercing look. “How about we call you nerd? Or do you prefer geek?”

Mom set the pancakes on the table. “I prefer quiet.” She turned to Grandma Eunice, patted her shoulder, and adjusted the cereal spoon in her hand. “Can I get you something else to eat?” she asked.

Malcolm looked away. He hated the way everyone babied Grandma Eunice. They treated her more like a pet than a family member.

Grandma Eunice shook her head no, milk dripping down her chin.

Malcolm scarfed down his food and retreated to his lab to fiddle with his scientific gadgets.
At midmorning he looked up through the basement window and saw feet coming up the walk. He'd know those shoes anywhere. Mail Carrier Nancy.

Malcolm dashed to the mailbox and grabbed the stack of mail. He dropped the bills, flyers, and samples on the kitchen counter. Then, he ran back to his lab, holding his magazines.

This was the time of month Malcolm loved best. His magazines always arrived on the same day, just like Christmas presents. He sorted through them.

Junior Scientist. Weird Worlds. Beyond Belief.
They were all here. But he rarely read the articles. Instead he'd jump to the ads in the back. That's where he found the cool inventions. He especially liked the ones that advertised as,
Originally developed in a secret government lab.

Malcolm thumbed through the back of
Beyond Belief.
Most of the ads were the same, month after month.

But a new ad caught Malcolm's eye. He practically drooled when he read it. Then, he circled it so he wouldn't forget it later.

Malcolm, who had a drawer full of batteries, leapt in the air. “Yes!”

His hands trembled as he stuffed the money into an envelope and licked it shut. He stuck on a stamp and ran to the corner mailbox. And then the waiting began.

M
alcolm didn't do the things that other kids did during the summer. While they were swimming and playing ball, Malcolm watched science programs and monster movies and conducted experiments in his lab. But this summer, he mostly waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.

Every day he'd sit on the front stoop, watching for Mail Carrier Nancy to approach. And every day she'd say the same thing.

“Sorry, Malcolm. No packages.” He hated those words.

Then finally, after two long weeks (which felt like two eternities to Malcolm), Mail Carrier Nancy walked up, wearing a grin bigger than her face.

“I believe this is for you,” she said, handing Malcolm a heavily taped box.

Malcolm wanted to jump up and hug her, but he didn't think it would be appropriate. So instead, he thanked her and ran inside the house.

He rushed past Grandma Eunice as she sat watching her favorite soap opera. “Wheeeeeee!” she sang as he sped by.

He brushed by Cocoa, nearly knocking her down. “Hey, creep!” she shouted.

But Malcolm didn't hear either one. He was already flying down the basement steps, two at a time.

He knocked some magazines and empty cups off the counter and set the box down. He wished he had X-ray vision because he couldn't wait to see inside. He quickly took a pair of scissors and sliced through the label that said
Ecto Corporation.

When he popped up the lid, an avalanche of white foam peanuts poured to his feet. After
digging through what seemed like a million of those things, including the three that stuck to his arm, Malcolm found his prize! It was wrapped in a mile of Bubble Wrap. Oh well . . . it was better than getting a broken specter detector.

Malcolm unwound and unwound and unwound until—finally—he glimpsed it. The silver metal gadget shone like a trophy. It resembled a hand drill with three small bubbles on top, one red, one green, and one gold. It was the most beautiful thing Malcolm had ever seen.