The Gloomy Ghost Page 7

  “That was you in the poster, right?” Sebastian whispered to me.

  “Yeah.”

  He sighed. “Phew. That’s a relief.”

  I guess he was glad it wasn’t some other ghost. Mom said we’d talk about the television later. That was going to be some talk. But I didn’t mind. Whatever my punishment was, I could take it.

  Norman was there, too. “Thanks,” I said to him when my parents weren’t listening.

  “Any time,” he said. “I like a challenge.”

  “What about Teridakian?” I asked him. “What happened after I left?”

  Norman grinned. “I gave him back his machine and he drove off. I didn’t tell him the wires were reversed. He’ll never catch another ghost.”

  The doctor said I could go home. He gave me a lecture about not eating strange berries. I promised him I wouldn’t ever do that again. I got dressed. Then I looked at the flowers on the table next to the bed.

  “I needed to cheer up the way the room looked,” Mom said. “I bought them last evening. But I forgot to put them in water. I guess they died.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “They’re still nice.” I grabbed the flowers.

  They made me ride in a wheelchair. They don’t like to let people walk out of a hospital. I don’t understand that. But as we were going down the hall, I heard something terrible. I told the nurse to stop walking.

  I looked into the room we were passing. It was Scott’s room. His mom and dad were crying. I guess he hadn’t understood my message. As good as I felt for myself, I felt terrible for Scott.

  His mother sobbed again, then said, “It’s a miracle.”

  I realized she was crying because she was so happy. Adults do that. She was sobbing and holding on to Scott. He was sitting up.

  “The doctor said you’ll be fine now,” Scott’s dad said. “No more hospitals.”

  Scott lifted his head from his mother’s shoulder. He smiled at me and said, “Hi, Rory.”

  “Hi, Scott,” I said. “You got better.”

  “I expected to,” he said.

  “Do you know him?” Mom asked as they rolled me down the hall.

  “We’ve met,” I told her.

  As we reached the elevator, I heard Scott calling again from his room. “Hi, Splat-bottom,” he said. Then he laughed. We were far enough away that I don’t think anyone else heard him very clearly. But Sebastian frowned and looked over his shoulder toward Scott’s room.

  We got out of the hospital, went to the car, and started for home. We drove the long way, because Mom wanted to pick up some milk.

  “Dad, can you stop here for a second?” I asked as we came down the hill.

  “Sure.” He sounded puzzled, but he did it.

  “I’ll be right back.” I grabbed the flowers and ran up the porch of the Winston House.

  “Here you go,” I said. I put the flowers down right in front of the door. I hoped the girl would see them. Maybe when flowers died, they became ghosts. I didn’t know. But it still made me feel good.

  “Ready to go home?” Dad asked when I got back into the car.

  “I sure am,” I told him. “All I want to do is curl up on the couch and watch some—”

  I stopped. I was just about to say television.

  Mom put a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get it fixed. But for tonight, how about I read you a book?”

  “That sounds great,” I said. “As long as it’s not a ghost story.”

  Sebastian laughed and poked me on the shoulder. It felt good. It felt wonderful.

  I liked being a fleshster.

  Afterword

  I really enjoyed writing about Rory’s adventures. The idea of a young ghost in a world filled with adult ghosts was exciting. It came to me a long time ago, but I carried it inside me while I wrote the other books in this series. Part of me was almost afraid to start writing, for fear the story wouldn’t come. But it came. I’m pleased with it. If you like to write, pay special attention to those ideas that make you shiver with excitement. Watch for the ideas that are so wonderful, you absolutely have to put them down on paper. Trust yourself.

  Kids can be such monsters … literally! Especially at Washington Irving Elementary. Read on for a sneak peek at The Bully Bug.…

  Bud found the box of cereal. If I’d found it, none of this would have happened. I’m smarter than Bud. He stayed back twice. I only got kept back once. But with him staying back twice, we ended up in the same grade. So we’ll be in school together for a while, unless he gets held back again. Bud and Lud, that’s us. Mom’s good with poetry. Anyway, you can see I’m smarter, both because Bud stayed back more, and because of what he did with the box.

  “Cereal!” Bud shouted. He’d pushed over one of Dad’s washing machines. Dad collects machines. It’s like a hobby and a job rolled all into one. A machine’s something you can trust. That’s what Dad says. He loves anything with a motor. Whatever machine someone throws out, Dad’ll pick it up. No matter how broken it is, Dad can fix it. He keeps most of them in the backyard. We’ve got a couple acres fenced in behind the house. There are washers and dryers, lots of refrigerators—with the doors taken off the older ones, so nobody gets stuck inside. There’s ovens, too. My sister, May, used to love playing house in the backyard. She could pretend to cook, and do all sorts of stuff.

  There’s cars, of course. Cars are the best machines in the world. Cars and planes are the best. We don’t have any planes. Maybe someday. Though I’ve never seen anyone throw out a plane. Wouldn’t that be cool—to see a plane sitting out on the curb next to the trash cans?

  Anyway, we’d just watched this movie about a giant ape that destroys New York. It was a real old movie, but pretty good, even though you could tell the ape was fake. The ape knocked over anything that got in his way. So Bud was stomping around, thumping his chest, and knocking stuff over. Bud kind of gets wrapped up in whatever movie he’s seen. I guess he was pretending the stuff was buses and buildings. Bud tipped over a washing machine and found this old box under it. The box was half rotted on the outside. You could barely read the label. Not that I do much reading, but labels aren’t so hard.

  “All right!” Bud shouted, suddenly stopping his ape act. “Snack time.”

  “Leave it alone, Bud,” I said. “It’s old. It’s probably spoiled. And it’s got that junk on it from the barrels.” I pointed to the oily green puddle. This guy who’d come through town driving a big old truck gave Dad a bunch of these metal barrels for free. The problem was, someone had left all this gooey stuff in the barrels, and they leaked a lot. It must have been nasty stuff, because it killed all the grass it touched.

  “Cereal can’t spoil, you idiot,” Bud said. “They make it so it’ll last forever.”

  “You’re the idiot,” I told him. “And that’s a fact.”

  “You are,” he said back.

  I let it go. I’m not much for arguing with words, and I couldn’t think of a good answer. But I warned him again. “Let it be, Bud,” I told him. “Just leave it alone.”

  “Might have a prize,” he said, picking up the box by the one corner that wasn’t soaked in slime. “Lots of cereal comes with a prize. Could be a race car or something…”

  Now, that was different. I hadn’t thought how there could be something besides cereal in the box. Which doesn’t mean Bud’s smarter. Just means I’m less greedy. I can walk by something even if there’s a prize in it. Bud, he’s got to stick his finger in every coin slot in the world. Can’t pass by a gumball machine without checking for money someone forgot. And he sends in all the sweepstakes stuff Mom and Dad get in the mail. I told him that just means we’ll get more mail. He doesn’t care. But we sure do get more mail. Tons of it. Doesn’t matter. Dad burns just about everything we get in the woodstove. Except for his car magazines. Ain’t nothing good ever came to me with a stamp on it. That’s what Dad always says. He knows lots.

  Anyway, Bud picked up the box, and right away I could tell there was somethi
ng wrong. The front was all puffed up, kind of bulging out like Uncle Ernie’s stomach after we finish Thanksgiving dinner. Or any other time, for that matter, when it comes to Uncle Ernie’s stomach bulging. “Careful with that,” I told Bud. “It ain’t right.” I could swear the box looked like it was moving, but I knew that couldn’t be true.

  “You just want me to leave it so you can sneak back later and steal the prize,” Bud said. “You want it all to yourself.”

  “Do not,” I said.

  “Do, too,” he said.

  I let it go. It was starting to sound like an argument. Clem and Clyde—they’re older—they argue a whole bunch. Neither one of them has enough sense to back down. It drives me crazy. So I try not to argue.

  Bud grabbed the top of the box and started to rip it loose. I could have told him that was a truly stupid thing to do. The glue on top held for a second, but then the whole thing came apart so fast, it sort of exploded. The box ripped from corner to corner, and the cereal went flying all over me.

  Except it wasn’t cereal making the box puff up. It wasn’t cereal that went flying all over me. It was a whole lot worse than that.

  Starscape Books by David Lubar

  NOVELS

  Flip

  Hidden Talents

  True Talents

  MONSTERRIFIC TALES

  Hyde and Shriek

  The Vanishing Vampire

  The Unwilling Witch

  The Wavering Werewolf

  The Gloomy Ghost

  NATHAN ABERCROMBIE, ACCIDENTAL ZOMBIE SERIES

  My Rotten Life

  Dead Guy Spy

  Goop Soup

  The Big Stink

  Enter the Zombie

  STORY COLLECTIONS

  Attack of the Vampire Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

  The Battle of the Red Hot Pepper Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

  Beware the Ninja Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

  The Curse of the Campfire Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

  In the Land of the Lawn Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

  Invasion of the Road Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

  Wipeout of the Wireless Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

  About the Author

  David Lubar grew up in Morristown, New Jersey. His books include Hidden Talents, an ALA Best Book for Young Adults; True Talents; Flip, a VOYA Best Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror selection; the Weenies short-story collections Attack of the Vampire Weenies, The Battle of the Red Hot Pepper Weenies, Beware the Ninja Weenies, The Curse of the Campfire Weenies, In the Land of the Lawn Weenies, Invasion of the Road Weenies, and Wipeout of the Wireless Weenies; and the Nathan Abercrombie, Accidental Zombie series. He lives in Nazareth, Pennsylvania. You can visit him on the Web at www.davidlubar.com.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  THE GLOOMY GHOST

  Copyright © 1998 by David Lubar

  The Bully Bug excerpt copyright © 2014 by David Lubar

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art and illustrations by Marcos Calo

  A Starscape Book

  Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

  175 Fifth Avenue

  New York, NY 10010

  www.tor-forge.com

  eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-0-7653-3080-2 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-4299-9311-1 (e-book)

  e-ISBN 9781429993111

  First Edition: July 2014