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The Haunted House Next Door
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CONTENTS
Chapter One: Welcome to Kersville
Chapter Two: Normal-Boring Happy
Chapter Three: Whatevs
Chapter Four: A Hand in the Night
Chapter Five: The Silverware Man
Chapter Six: Grape Secrets
Chapter Seven: The Flying Table
Chapter Eight: A Most Haunted Lasagna
Chapter Nine: Ghost Gunk
Chapter Ten: Meet the Ghost Patrol
About the Author and Illustrator
CHAPTER ONE
Welcome to Kersville
When you move to a new town, grown-ups always give you a lot of advice. They say you should explore your new neighborhood right away. They say you should make new friends as soon as possible.
They never tell you what to do if your house is haunted.
Good thing I live next door to the coolest, bravest kid in the world. That’s him, but he’s busy right now. You would be too if a ghost was trying to slime you!
His name is Desmond Cole.
Me? I’m Andres Miedoso, and I’m definitely not the coolest and bravest kid in the world.
Do you see me?
Look behind our brand-new sofa. That’s my foot, and it’s quivering with fear. Do you want to know why? Well, look up.
Yep. That’s a ghost. He’s seconds away from sliming our brand-new sofa . . . and me!
But wait.
There’s another thing grown-ups tell kids. They always say you have to start at the beginning.
It all began yesterday, when my parents and I moved to Kersville. We pulled in front of our new place, and the movers were already there with trucks blocking the driveway.
“Isn’t it a beautiful house?” Mom asked, turning around in her seat.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled.
“I know you’re nervous about moving, mi hijo,” she said. “But there’s nothing to worry about.”
Mom and Dad got out of the car, and I followed behind them slowly.
That was when I heard something coming from next door. The garage door opened, and two boys came out. They shook hands, and one boy walked away.
“There’s a boy your age right next door,” Mom said. “See how lucky you are, Andres! Go and make friends.”
Mom made everything sound so easy.
“Go on,” Dad said. “Have some fun.”
“All right,” I mumbled.
That was when the boy next door waved to me. “Can you come over?” he asked.
I nodded and walked over. With his garage door open, I could see that it looked more like an office inside. There was an old desk, two chairs, and a bookcase full of thick books.
On the desk there was a flashlight, a video camera, walkie-talkies, and some weird gadgets with numbers on them. I started to get a little nervous.
“Hey,” the boy said, smiling. “I’m Desmond Cole.”
“Um, I’m Andres Miedoso.”
“This is a great neighborhood,” Desmond said. “Well, except for —”
“What is that?” I asked, spotting some odd-looking glasses hanging on the wall.
“Those are night-vision goggles,” he replied.
“Night-vision goggles?” I asked, but Desmond interrupted me.
“Andres, I have to warn you.”
Warn me? Now I was getting nervous.
“It’s my mom,” he said. “She’s making a welcome lasagna for your family.”
“That sounds nice,” I said.
Desmond leaned in close to me. “Don’t eat it. Trust me. My mom is a pretty terrible cook.” Then he laughed.
I tried to laugh too, but this kid and his strange garage-office were freaking me out. “Um, I’d better go now.”
“Here,” Desmond said, handing me a business card.
“Uh, um, thanks,” I said, and slowly backed away. “S-see you around.”
I ran home thinking about how much I never wanted to see him again. Never.
Of course, that was before I knew what it was like living in Kersville. Everybody needed a friend like Desmond Cole in this town.
CHAPTER TWO
Normal-Boring Happy
Mom and Dad were busy with the movers, so I decided to check out the new house. After meeting Desmond, I needed time to get my heartbeat back to its normal speed.
Even though there were boxes everywhere and the furniture wasn’t where it was supposed to be, the house was normal. Normal and boring.
A normal-boring front door and a normal-boring den.
A normal-boring kitchen and a normal-boring dining room.
There were four normal-boring bedrooms and two normal-boring bathrooms.
The front yard and the garage were . . . well, you get it.
The thing is, I like normal-boring. I understand normal-boring.
Maybe that’s because I’m normal-boring too.
The only thing that wasn’t normal-boring about this house was the basement. The stairs creaked as I walked down. It was almost completely dark except for a little light that came in from a small window. There were shadows everywhere.
There were also pipes that made clanging noises, and I jumped every single time they clanked.
I ran back upstairs. Sure, most basements were creepy, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I like the normal-boring parts of the house, thank you very much.
Mom was in the den. “Did you get along with the boy next door?” she asked me. “Wouldn’t it be great if you found a best friend on your first day here?”
“Mom, nobody becomes best friends in two minutes! That would be a world record!”
“I just want you to be happy here in Kersville,” she said.
“I’m happy,” I told her. “And yeah, Desmond is pretty cool.”
She smiled. “Good.”
I didn’t want Mom to worry about me, but the truth is, I wasn’t sure Desmond Cole would make a good best friend. Something about him seemed . . . strange.
I went upstairs to my new room and started unpacking. I wanted my room to look the way it did in my last house and the house before that. Normal-boring.
Maybe Kersville would be as normal-boring as my room. But something told me I wouldn’t be so lucky.
CHAPTER THREE
Whatevs
DING-DONG! That evening, the doorbell rang. It was Desmond and his parents, and sure enough, his mom was carrying a casserole dish. I was super-hungry, but that was probably the lasagna Desmond told me about—no, warned me about.
Everyone introduced themselves and came inside. “I made this for you,” Mrs. Cole said, handing Mom the dish. “Cooking is the last thing you need to think about when you move into a new house.”
Mom thanked Mrs. Cole. Then she said, “Andres, why don’t you show Desmond your new room?”
“Okay,” I said. I knew she just wanted to talk to the grown-ups without us kids around. And that was fine with me.
On the way upstairs, Desmond stopped short. “What’s wrong?” I asked, but he didn’t say anything.
Instead, he tapped the wall and put his ear to it.
My panicky feeling came back. “Wh-what are y-you . . . ?”
“Shhh.” He listened to the wall. Then he blew out puffs of air all around. After that he licked his finger and held it up into the air. None of this made any sense to me.
“What are you doing?” I finally asked.
He shrugged. “Oh, sorry. That’s just something I do.”
“Okay,” I said. “Whatevs.”
We walked into my room. Covering one wall was a gigantic poster of the entire solar system. The poster was so huge it made my room feel like it was in outer space.
“Oh wow!” Desmond exclaime
d. “That’s the coolest thing I ever saw.”
“Yeah, my dad got it for me,” I told Desmond. “It’s the first thing I put on my wall whenever we move.”
That poster made every place feel like home.
“You’re a space fan, huh?” asked Desmond.
“What was your clue, Sherlock?” I asked, and we both laughed.
Desmond looked around the rest of my room. “So what brings you to Kersville?”
“My parents are scientists working on a top secret project for the government,” I said. “Oops. I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”
“Wait, seriously?” Desmond asked.
I nodded, because really, it was true.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he said. “It must be cool to have top secret parents.”
“Yeah, but we have to move a lot,” I said. “Normally, we don’t even stay in the same town for a year.”
“Kersville isn’t normal,” Desmond said. “When people move here, they stay.”
“I hope so,” I said.
That was when Mom called from downstairs. “Hey, Andres, Desmond’s parents are leaving now.”
Before we left the room, Desmond tapped walls and blew out his breath. But this time, he jumped back, as if he saw something.
“Huh?” was all he said. Then Desmond licked his finger and held it into the air again. “Uh, you still have my card I gave you, right?”
My heart beat hard. “Um, why?”
“Call me if you need me, okay?”
“N-need you?” I asked.
Desmond smiled. “Yeah, like if you want me to show you around. We have a new comic book store and a bike park. With a bike like yours, I know you ride.”
Back downstairs, Desmond left with his parents. But I couldn’t stop thinking about those weird things he had done or what made him jump.
Most of all, I couldn’t stop wondering why he thought I would need him.
CHAPTER FOUR
A Hand in the Night
That night, we ordered pizza for dinner and had a picnic on the living-room floor. Most of our plates were still in boxes, and we were too tired to find them. “We’ll save Mrs. Cole’s lasagna for tomorrow,” Mom said, and I secretly smiled.
After dinner, I went to bed earlier than usual. As I walked into my bedroom, I tapped the wall like Desmond had done. Nothing happened.
I laughed to myself. What did I think was going to happen?
Then I heard it.
TAP TAP TAP.
I covered my mouth with my hand and stood still, listening hard. I waited, as stiff as a statue, but the wall was quiet.
Finally, I let myself breathe again. It’s just my imagination, I thought.
Not only that, I was dog tired. I climbed into bed and read a few pages of my favorite book, but even that couldn’t keep me awake. I fell fast asleep with the lights on.
I was freezing when I woke up. My eyes popped open, and I looked around the pitch-black room. I wasn’t even sure where I was at first. Then I remembered: I was in my new room. But why is it colder than outer space? I thought. And who turned off the lights?
I blew out a huge breath of air, just like Desmond had done. In the darkness, my breath became a fuzzy white cloud that floated around my room. That’s not right.
So I did Desmond’s next trick. I put my finger in my mouth and then held it up. Bright blue sparks shot out from my finger, and shock waves ran through my body.
The lights started flashing by themselves, and when I saw my reflection in the mirror, I looked like a bolt of lightning had hit my head.
I sat there in bed, frozen with fear. That’s when I heard a creaking sound coming from the walls. I dove under the covers—they were my only protection. Then something touched me. It was a hand!
“Andres?” Mom’s voice was soft.
I peeked from under the blanket, and my heart skipped a beat. Mom was standing over my bed. She sat down.
“You were having a bad dream.” She picked the book off my bed and put it on the night table. Then she leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “Go back to sleep, and I’ll turn off the light.”
“Okay,” I said. “Good night, Mom.”
“Good night, mi hijo.”
Sure, it’s embarrassing that Mom had to tuck me in like a little kid. But after those crazy things happened, I did not mind at all.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Silverware Man
The very next day was all about unpacking boxes.
And lifting heavy things.
And moving those heavy things to just the right spot.
While Mom unpacked clothes and books, Dad and I moved furniture. Yeah, I was sweaty and tired, but I love putting things where they belong.
Dad and I saved the den for last. We had to lift giant chairs and a brand-new sofa, then set up the TV and sound system. When everything was in place, we collapsed on the sofa, breathing hard.
Dad declared, “It’s official. This house is our home. And to celebrate, we need my famous lemonade.”
Dad thinks his lemonade is the greatest thing in the world. And actually, it is.
He went into the kitchen. As I followed him, there was a loud crash behind me. I spun around, thinking something fell over, but what I saw was . . .
How can I explain it?
In the two seconds my back was turned, the entire room had changed! All the furniture was rearranged, and the sofa was now floating, like, way up in the air.
“Dad! Dad!” I raced into the kitchen. “You have to see this!”
I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the den. But the furniture was back exactly the way Dad and I had arranged it. You never would have known anything had been out of place.
“What do I have to see?” Dad asked, sounding confused.
I just stood there with my mouth open. “Um, nothing,” I mumbled. “I thought—forget it.”
I couldn’t tell Dad what had just happened. He would think I was losing my mind. Maybe I was losing my mind.
Dad shrugged. “Well, okay. Let’s go get that lemonade. I’ll bet you’re thirsty!” He laughed and put his arm around me as we walked.
Mom had already unpacked the kitchen. It was normal-boring and spotless, just the way I like it. I tried to relax. “Everything is going to be okay,” I told myself.
Dad was grabbing a pitcher from the cabinet when Mom called from upstairs. “Honey, can you give me a hand?”
“Okay,” Dad said. “Lemonade when I get back, Andres. I promise.”
I nodded and then closed my eyes. Maybe the den was just a weird daydream?
Then I opened my eyes and gasped. Every drawer and cabinet in the kitchen was open. Cups and plates were piled on top of the table and counter, and our silverware was scattered on the floor.
I went to scream, but before the sound came out, the forks, knives, and spoons all slowly moved around in a circle. It looked like a tornado. As they spun around, they started to form into something that looked . . . human. It was a . . .
. . . GIANT SILVERWARE MAN!
That was all I needed to see, so I took off and ran out the front door. I didn’t even look where I was going. And as soon as I made it outside, I slammed into something—no, someone.
I ran smack into Desmond Cole.
CHAPTER SIX
Grape Secrets
“OOF!”
That was what Desmond said as I knocked the wind out of him. He sank into a heap on the ground.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I said, helping him back up. “I didn’t mean—um, I didn’t see you standing . . .”
“It’s okay,” Desmond said. “But seriously, dude, what’s your rush?”
My mind was still racing from what I had just seen in the kitchen. No way was I going to tell Desmond what had just happened. No way was I going to tell anyone.
So I played it cool and searched for my calm voice. “I just, um, have to go to the store. You know, for my parents.”
“Cool,” Desmond said. “I’ll walk you there.”
“Okay.”
On the way, I tried to hide how scared I was, but my legs were still a little wobbly. And my hands were still a little shaky.
I don’t think Desmond noticed, though. He was too busy talking to people we passed on the street. It seemed like everybody in Kersville knew Desmond. One boy told him, “Thanks for everything the other day.”
“Glad I could help,” Desmond said.
Then we passed a girl who said, “Hey, thanks, Desmond.”
“Call if you need me again,” he replied.
Finally, I had to ask, “What did you do for those kids?”
But Desmond changed the subject. “Did you eat my mom’s lasagna yet?”
“Um, no, not yet,” I told him. “We always have pizza the first night in a new home. It’s a tradition with us.”
When we reached the store, Desmond asked, “What did your parents want you to buy?”
I had no idea what to tell him. “I’m supposed to get, um, grapes.”
Okay, I know that wasn’t the best answer, but I could barely concentrate on what I was saying. My head was spinning with questions. How did Desmond help all those kids? And why didn’t he want to tell me? And what in the world was happening back at my not-so-normal, not-at-all-boring house?!