Ghost Detectors Volume 1 (6 page)

Dandy stood paralyzed. Malcolm figured he wasn't going to get an answer, and flipped the specter detector to Detect. The green light flashed off, and the gold light flashed on. But only for a second. The light then blinked off and on with a steady
bleep—bleep—bleep.

“Not much activity right now,” Malcolm said, turning to look back at Dandy. Dandy's eyes were wide-open. His lips looked blue, even in the brassy hue of the flicking specter detector light.

“Just stick with me,” Malcolm said, although he figured Dandy wasn't thinking for a second of venturing off on his own. Malcolm took slow baby steps, tiptoeing across the floor, Dandy's hand still gripping him. Dandy never lifted his feet. He skated behind Malcolm, without a breath.

Malcolm kept the flashlight pointed in his left hand, the detector in his right. As they approached the fireplace, two eyes peered down at them.

“What?” Malcolm sputtered, whipping the light toward the mantle. Just an ugly giant
moose head, hung up like a trophy. Malcolm took a moment to breathe and gather everything that was just scared out of him.

When they reached a spiral staircase, Malcolm whispered to Dandy, “Reach in my backpack and turn on the tape recorder. Then pull out the camera and turn on the flash.”

Dandy never said a word. He obeyed Malcolm, but took forever doing it because of his nervous fumbling. And even though Malcolm tried to stand still, the light from the flashlight danced all over the foot of the staircase. But Malcolm was patient. He had to be. He hadn't told Dandy, but he'd stay here all night if he had to.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long. Like a fisherman hoping for a catch, Malcolm had a bite. The gold light blinked faster.

Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep.

Both boys froze, staring down at the rapid signal. The beam from the flashlight bent and flickered. Then something brushed the hairs on Malcolm's neck. A voice, as thin as the wind, whispered in Malcolm's ear.

“It creeeeeeeeps.”

M
alcolm's guts turned to jelly. Fear spread through him, tingling from head to toe. The specter detector kept on detecting.

Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep.

Malcolm turned to see Dandy standing like a zombie. His lips were purple and his eyes hollow.

“Run, Dandy!” Malcolm screamed. He turned and ran for the front door. He tugged and tugged, but the door was bolted shut.

Malcolm slumped against the door. He had to think . . . he had to plan . . . he had to decide what to do next. He'd been so preoccupied with detecting a ghost, he never stopped to think about what he'd do when he found one.

The specter detector sped up.
Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep!

The kitchen door was just across the room. If he could make it there, he could blast through and rush out the back. But as he darted toward it, something caught his hair and jerked him back. He landed splat on his bottom. The flashlight crashed to the floor and everything went black.

“It creeeeeeeeps. It creeeeeeeeps.”

“Yeow!” Malcolm came off the floor faster than a cat on hot sand. He sprinted toward the kitchen, bumping into Dandy, who still stood petrified. Just as Malcolm reached the kitchen door, it swung open, but before he entered, it slammed shut again . . . smashing him right in the face.

He staggered backward, stars falling in front of his face. The dark room went in and out of focus. But Malcolm could still hear the specter detector beeping away, even faster now.

Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep!
In his daze, he heard that wispy voice. “It creeeeeeeeps. It creeeeeeeeps.”

He fell into the kitchen and looked around. No back door! Was this a joke? He crawled under a large rusty sink. He had to collect his
thoughts, or at least the ones that hadn't been whacked out of him by the kitchen door.

He took a deep breath.
Think! Think!
Now his specter detector bleeped faster than a baseball card on bicycle spokes.

Bleepbleepbleepbleepbleepbleepbleepbleepbleep!
Something grabbed Malcolm's nose, tweaking it hard. “It creeeeeeeeps. It creeeeeeeeps.”

“Ouch!” Malcolm shot out from behind the sink and pushed through the kitchen door again. “Dandy!” he screamed. Dandy just stood there, not even blinking.

Malcolm hid under the stairs. It was just an inky black hole, with the exception of the gold light from the specter detector, now bleeping so fast, it generated one continuous beam.
Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Malcolm knew what that meant.

“It creeeeeeeeps. It creeeeeeeeps.”

He jumped out from under the stairs and tried to run, but someone or something had knotted his shoelaces. He tripped and fell forward. The specter detector dropped from his hands and skittered across the floor.

Malcolm crawled on his elbows and belly,
slithering like a snake. In a panic, he grabbed the gadget and tried flipping the switch off. It was jammed.

Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

He jiggled it and tugged at it.

Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

He banged it on the floor.

Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Then in a moment of desperation, he opened the little door and popped out the batteries.

Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Malcolm stared wildly at the specter detector. Was he losing his mind?

Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

“It creeeeeeeeps. It creeeeeeeeps.”

Malcolm hung his head and whimpered. He didn't need his specter detector. What he had come to find had found him.

“It creeeeeeeeps. It creeeeeeeeps.”

Malcolm couldn't take it anymore. “What creeps! What creeps!”

“YOUR UNDERWEAR!”

Suddenly something lifted Malcolm in the air by the elastic waistband of his drawers. Yanked higher and higher. He thought he'd split in two. Then it hooked him on one pointed antler of the moose head over the fireplace. And there Malcolm hung, like a wet sock.

The specter detector went silent. The light dimmed and disappeared. And just as Malcolm's breathing slowed, a brilliant flash filled the room. A giant spot appeared before his eyes.

“What was that?” he yelled.

Dandy flipped on the flashlight and aimed it at Malcolm's face. “Didn't you want me to take a picture?”

“H
ow'd you get up there?” Dandy asked.

Malcolm shook his head. “You didn't see? You didn't hear?”

Dandy shrugged, then he looked around until he found an old broom to help get Malcolm loose from the moose.

Malcolm couldn't believe his underwear could stretch that far! He wondered if any was left covering his behind. With the help of the broom handle, he managed to pluck the elastic free and fall to the ground.

“Let's go!” he yelled.

After the boys snatched up their things, including the specter detector, Dandy ran for the front door.

“It's locked,” Malcolm said. “We'll have to
find another exit.” But Dandy turned the handle and the door opened with a gentle squeak.

Wasting no time, they raced out the door, scampered over the rickety porch, trudged through the weedy walkway, and jumped the wobbly picket fence. They didn't stop until they reached Malcolm's front yard, where they collapsed on the lawn, gasping and groaning.

“What were we running away from?” Dandy asked.

Malcolm buried his face in this hands. “I can't believe you didn't see it or hear it.”

“I saw the light on the ghost detector blinking,” Dandy said. “It blinked and blinked and blinked . . .” Dandy's eyelids relaxed and he stared off in a trance.

“It must have hypnotized you!” Malcolm said. He snapped his fingers in front of Dandy's eyes to wake him up.

“Anyway,” Dandy continued, “the next thing I knew, you were hanging from that moose.”

Malcolm stood up and looked at his bottom. The elastic of his underwear was drooping over his pants. “Let's go in,” he said.

Dandy stared off down the street. “All this ghost hunting has made me tired. I think I'll go home.”

Malcolm watched as Dandy drifted down the sidewalk like someone sleepwalking. He disappeared around the corner.

Malcolm still had the jitters when he slipped into his house. Even though Dandy had gone, he still had the feeling he wasn't alone. He was being watched. Had someone or something followed him home?

He moved quietly to his lab to put away his equipment. As he reached the basement door, he met with another shock. Cocoa was blocking the way, hands on her hips, and her mouth tight as a wire.

“Where is it?” she growled.

“What?”

“Where is my blow-dryer?”

Malcolm's shoulders sank. He was in no mood to deal with her tonight. “I'll get it in the morning,” he said.

“Look at my hair! It looks like a heap of spaghetti. I need my blow-dryer! Get it tonight!”

She screamed so hard that Malcolm could see clear down her throat. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I'll put it in your bathroom.”

Cocoa stormed away, slamming her bedroom door.

The excitement of the evening wore off, and Malcolm's feet suddenly felt like bricks. He trudged down the stairs and put his equipment away. He found Cocoa's blow-dryer where Dandy had hidden it. He looked at it for a moment, then pulled out his specter detector.

Hmmmmm
. . . An evil thought crossed his mind. Herbert McBleaky wasn't the only practical joker in town. He slipped in and out of Cocoa's bathroom with a devilish grin.