Spell of the Screaming Jokers
Author: R. L. Stine
Date: 1997-05-01 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Young Adult; Childrens
Description: The deck is stacked—for evil! Brittany has picked a joker. And that’s no laughing matter, because these jokers are deadly. But when you get all four suits, the trouble really starts. Because that’s when the joker plays for keeps!
Publisher: Aladdin

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

‘The Creature from Club Lagoona’ Excerpt

About R. L. Stine

1

“This whole mess is Frankie Todaro’s fault and—oowww!” I howled. “That hurts, Louisa!”

“Sorry, Brittany. But you know—looking great isn’t easy. Just read those magazines.” Louisa pointed to a stack of my magazines piled high on the floor. “They all tell you that.”

“Then I won’t look great,” I said, yanking her curling iron out of my hair.

It was Saturday afternoon. My best friend, Louisa Wong, had come over to my house. She was always trying out ways to improve my short brown hair. So far, none of them had worked.

“Besides,” I went on, “I don’t care what I look like for this dumb community-service thing.”

“Bad attitude, Brit,” Louisa told me, shaking her head.

Louisa is into fashion. That day she had on a lavender baby T-shirt, a long silky skirt, and navy blue nail polish.

I had on a pair of old jeans and a Shadyside Middle School sweatshirt. I’m into comfort.

I flopped down on my bed. “You know,” I went on, “if Frankie hadn’t make us look at his dumb pet rat, none of this would have happened.”

“I thought he was cute,” Louisa said.

“Who?” I raised my eyebrows. “Frankie?”

“No!” Louisa cried. “Spike!”

“Spike—cute? I guess—if you’re into albino rats. Why did Frankie bring him to school anyway?”

“Somebody dared him to put Spike on Mr. Bladvig’s music stand.” Louisa shrugged. “You know how he is.”

“Who?” I asked. “Spike?”

“No!” Louisa laughed. “Frankie! You know how he loves dares.”

I shook my head. “I barely know Frankie.”

“He was in my class last year,” Louisa told me. “Trust me, he’ll do anything.”

BANG!

Louisa shrieked as my bedroom door flew open.

My little brother crashed into my room.

“Jimmy!” I yelled. “You’re supposed to knock. Remember?”

“Pick a card!” Jimmy demanded. He charged over to me, waving a deck of cards. “Come on, Brit! It’s my new trick! Pick a card!”

I groaned. I’m not crazy about cards to start with. Then Mom and Dad bought Jimmy a card-trick book for his eighth birthday. Ever since, he’s been a total pain.

I was really, really sick of his card tricks. “Ask Louisa to pick,” I told him.

Jimmy fanned the cards. Louisa picked one. She showed it to me. Six of clubs.

“Now put your card back in the deck,” he instructed her.

Louisa slid the card back into the pack.

Jimmy shuffled. “Okay, pick the first four cards.”

She did. “Hey!” she cried. “They’re all sixes!”

“Tah-dah!” Jimmy took a bow.

“How’d you do it?” Louisa asked, handing him back the cards.

Jimmy grinned. “Magicians never tell,” he declared. He turned to me. “Your turn, Brit. Pick a card! Any card!”

“Not now,” I said. “We have go to Max Davidson’s house.”

“Who is he?” Jimmy asked. “Your new boyfriend? Are you in loooove with him?”

“I’ve never even met him,” I snapped. “He moved to Shadyside last week. But he’s sick, so he can’t come to school.”

Jimmy wrinkled his nose. “What’s he got?” he asked.

“Rabies, for all I know,” I said glumly.

“Brit!” Louisa cried. “You’re horrible!”

“Why do you have to go see him?” Jimmy asked.

“Because Max’s mom asked the principal if some Shadyside kids could visit him. So Mr. Emerson picked us.”

“Oh.” Jimmy cocked his head to one side. “Why did he pick you?”

I sighed. He wasn’t going to give up.

“We got in trouble for looking at a rat,” Louisa explained.

“It’s not fair,” I put in. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Tell that to Mr. Bladvig,” Louisa said.

“Hey!” I cried. “That’s whose fault it is! Mr. Bladvig’s!”

“Really.” Louisa nodded. “If he hadn’t come out of the music room and seen us petting Spike, we wouldn’t even be in trouble.”

“What about that redheaded kid?” I asked. “The one whose locker is next to Frankie’s? What’s his name—Jeff.”

“Are you in loooove with Jeff?” Jimmy asked me.

I ignored him. “I bet Jeff is mad at Frankie,” I went on.

“Why is Jeff mad at Frankie?” Jimmy asked.

“Jimmy, you don’t even know Frankie and Jeff!” I exclaimed. “Why do you care?”

“Mr. Bladvig dragged Jeff off to Mr. Emerson’s office with the rest of us, and he was just standing at his locker. He wasn’t even looking at Spike,” Louisa explained to him.

“I’ve got it!” I cried. “This is all Spike’s fault.”

Because of one stupid pet rat, I had to visit a kid I didn’t even know.

One stupid white rat got us into all this trouble, I thought miserably.

Well, we’ll go visit Max, and that will be the end of it, I told myself.

But I was wrong.

It was just the beginning.

The beginning of real trouble.

2

“Max would live on Fear Street.” Louisa shuddered as we walked down Hawthorne Drive. “Hey, there’s Frankie!” She waved.

Frankie ran to catch up with us. It took him only a few strides—because everything about Frankie was long.

He had long, skinny legs. And long, thin arms—they practically hung down to his knees. He had a long, narrow face, with a long, straight nose. And long, stringy brown hair.

When he caught up to us, I noticed his T-shirt. It was long too. And blue—just like his eyes. It said DARE ME!

The three of us walked to Park Drive. Louisa glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that Jeff?” She pointed to a thin redheaded boy walking behind us. “Maybe we should wait for him.”

As he walked up, I glanced at my watch. “Hey, guys, it’s almost five,” I warned. “We’re going to be late!”

“We could cut through Mrs. Marder’s yard,” Frankie said.

“No way!” I cried. Didn’t he know what people said about Mrs. Marder? “She’s a witch!”

Louisa’s dark eyes widened. “Right!” she agreed. “No way am I getting hexed!”

“You’re afraid of Mrs. Murder?” Frankie said, chuckling. “I’m not.”

“Well, you should be,” I told him. “Don’t you remember what happened to Gina Logan?”

“No, I don’t,” Jeff said. “What happened to her?”

“She went into Mrs. Marder’s yard. And no one ever saw her again!”

“I heard Gina’s family moved to Utah,” Frankie pointed out.

“That’s not what I heard.” Louisa shook her head sadly. “She just disappeared!”

“Oh, sure,” Jeff scoffed.

“No, really,” Louisa insisted. “Mrs. Marder is weird. She has hundreds of cats—and they hiss all the time. She hates kids. She’s really scary.”

“Scarier than double detention?” Frankie asked. “Because that’s what Mr. Emerson said we’d get if we’re late.”

Frankie had a point. Two minutes of running through a witch’s backyard was better than two weeks of detention.

“I don’t think we should cut through,” Jeff said suddenly.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared too!” Frankie teased.

“I’m not scared!” Jeff scowled. “I just don’t think we should go through her yard, that’s all. It’s trespassing.”

Trespassing? I glanced at Louisa and rolled my eyes. Who cared about that?

I studied Mrs. Marder’s house. Its gray paint had peeled away. The bare wood underneath was splintered and rotted. A rickety porch ran all the way around the house.

I stared up at the windows. Dark, grimy windows behind crumbling, crooked shutters.

I turned and gazed across the street. Nothing there but a vacant lot with a huge hole in the ground. It looked as if someone had started to build a house and then gave up.

Who could blame them? Who would want to live across the street from Mrs. Murder?

I turned back to Mrs. Marder’s house. Her yard was filled with cats. Cats everywhere. All black.

Black cats snoozing on the porch railing. Crouching on the windowsills. Stalking through the weedy grass.

“Max’s house is right behind Mrs. Marder’s,” Frankie whispered. “Follow me on three. One . . . two . . . three!” He opened the creaky front gate and dashed around the side of her house.

Well, that settled that. Louisa, Jeff, and I sprinted after Frankie.

As I rounded the house, something caught my eye.

Mrs. Marder! Standing on the porch.

She held a stick in her bony hands. No, a broom! A green bandanna that was tied around her head only partly covered her coarse gray hair. I could see the deep wrinkles in her skin—and the evil glow in her dark green eyes.

“You rotten kids!” she screeched, shaking her broom at us.

I ran on. Past a wheelbarrow full of soil. Past an old stone birdbath with a face carved into its base.

No. Not a face.

A skull! A skull with hollow, staring eyes and a mouth opened wide in a silent scream!

“Come back here!” Mrs. Marder shrieked.

I ran faster—and tripped over a cat. It hissed—arching its back and baring its teeth. I fell on top of a tray of little flowerpots. Sent them shattering to the ground.

“My herbs!” Mrs. Marder shrieked. “You’ve ruined them! You’ve destroyed them all!”

My heart pounded as I scrambled to my feet.

Mrs. Marder pointed a bony finger at me. “You will pay!”

All the black cats gathered around her. They arched their backs. And hissed at me. Hissed horribly.

“I’ll make you pay!” she yelled.

I dove behind a clump of bushes at the back of the yard—and found Louisa, Jeff, and Frankie hiding there.

“Wow! Brittany broke a few flowerpots, but Mrs. Marder went ballistic!” Frankie shook his head in disbelief. “Did you hear her?”

“She’s going inside now,” Jeff said. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Not yet.” Frankie darted out from the bushes. He ran for the wheelbarrow and kicked it over. Dark soil spilled out into the weeds.

The back door swung open.

Mrs. Marder burst outside. She raised her broom high in the air. She shook it angrily.

“You’ll pay for this!” she screamed. “I’ll make you pay! I’ll make all of you pay!”

3

We ran from Mrs. Marder’s yard as fast as we could.

I could hardly breathe by the time we got to Max’s front door.

“You’ll pay! You’ll all pay!” Mrs. Marder’s shrieks rang in my ears. My legs began to tremble.

My hand shook too as I rang Max’s doorbell. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

I checked my watch. Oh, great. We ran through that horrible woman’s yard—and we were late anyway.

I peered up at Max’s house. It was a one-story brick house with freshly painted white shutters. Neat little bushes surrounded it. What a pretty house, I thought—the opposite of Mrs. Marder’s scary house.

A pretty blond woman answered the door. “Hi!” she greeted us. “I’m Mrs. Davidson, Max’s mom.”

Mrs. Davidson had cheerful green eyes and a nice smile. Her long blond hair was held loosely in a silver clip. She wore an apple-green top, leggings, and high-top sneakers. Very cool.

She held the door open and we stepped inside.

“I’m Louisa Wong,” Louisa said first.

“Jeff de Winter,” Jeff mumbled.

“I’m Brittany Carson,” I volunteered.

Frankie stepped up last. “Todaro,” he announced, strutting through the door. “Frankie.”

Mrs. Davidson invited us to sit down in the living room. “I told Mr. Emerson I’d call him when you arrived,” she said. “And you’re right on time! I’ll go call now. Excuse me.”

She walked into the kitchen. I heard her talking on the phone through the closed kitchen door. She was nice to say we’d made it on time!

“It’s so kind of you to visit Max!” Mrs. Davidson exclaimed when she came back.

None of us mentioned that we didn’t have much choice!

“We moved to Shadyside only last week,” Mrs. Davidson went on. “Max hoped to start seventh grade next week. But—”

“We’re in seventh grade too,” Louisa interrupted.

“Well, maybe you can help him catch up when he gets back to school. Max’s doctor said he has to stay in bed for three more weeks,” Mrs. Davidson told us. “He’s getting over pneumonia, so he has to rest.”

Then she stood up. “Well, let’s not keep Max waiting any longer. He’s so excited about meeting you.”

The four of us followed her down a long hallway.

At the end of the hallway a door stood halfway open. Mrs. Davidson pushed it open all the way. “Max?” she said. “Some students from Shadyside Middle School are here to meet you.”

We stepped into Max’s room. Windows stretched all along one wall. But they didn’t let in much light.

A boy sat on a bed at one end of the shadowy room. He looked small for a seventh-grader. He wore white long-sleeved pajamas. He had pale skin. And pale blond hair. He even had pale blue eyes—but they were ringed with dark circles.

Poor kid, I thought. He does look sick!

“Hi, Max!” Louisa said cheerily.

Max nodded hello.

Then there was an awkward silence.

“So—you have a Monopoly board or anything?” Jeff asked Max.

Max shook his head no this time. He sure wasn’t making this easy!

“Uh—would you like to talk? Or play a game?” I asked him.

“Cards,” he said in a soft voice. He drew a deck from under his covers.

Cards? My heart sank. I just couldn’t seem to get away from cards!

“Great,” I lied, trying to make my voice cheerful.

“Go on over to the table, kids.” Mrs. Davidson nodded to the end of the room opposite Max’s bed.

Max stood up. He walked slowly to the table. “Let’s play hearts,” he suggested in a quiet voice.

“Good thinking, Max,” Mrs. Davidson told him. “Five can play that. Do you kids know how?”

We all nodded as we sat down. Max shuffled the deck.

“Now Max will ask someone to cut the cards,” Mrs. Davidson told us. “That’s good card manners.”

Max pushed the deck toward Frankie.

“Lift some cards from the top of the deck—as many as you want,” Mrs. Davidson instructed. “Then put the cards from the bottom of the deck on top of them.”

After Frankie cut the cards, Max began to deal. I noticed that he was a serious nail-biter. The tips of his fingers were all ragged and chewed.

“Wait to pick up your cards until they’re all dealt,” Mrs. Davidson told us. “That’s good card manners too.”

When Max finished dealing, we picked up our hands.

“Have fun, kids!” Mrs. Davidson said, and left the room.

I studied my cards one at a time. Two of clubs. Six of hearts. Three of diamonds. Jack of—

A horrible scream split the air!

I jumped.

Frankie dropped his cards to the floor.

“Frankie!” I exclaimed, startled. “What’s wrong?”

Frankie stared, eyes wide open. His jaw dropped.

And he let out the most horrifying scream I’d ever heard.

4

The awful, piercing scream went on and on.

I clapped my hands to my ears. “Frankie!” I cried again. “What’s wrong! Tell us—what’s wrong!”

Frankie turned to me—and the screaming stopped. Stopped suddenly, as if a knife sliced it off mid-scream. But his mouth still hung open.

Mrs. Davidson ran into Max’s room. “What happened?” she cried. “Is someone hurt? Who screamed?”

“Frankie did,” Louisa told her.

“I did not!” Frankie protested.

We all stared at him. “Yes, you did!” Louisa exclaimed. “Your mouth was wide open. We all heard you. Screaming like a maniac.”

“I wasn’t screaming,” Frankie said flatly.

“Yeah, right,” I said. “You nearly burst my eardrums. You dropped all your cards—then you started screaming.”

“I don’t know what you mean about screaming.” Frankie spoke slowly. “I know I dropped my cards. It was because of—because of the joker.”

Frankie glanced under the table. We all followed his gaze.

There his cards lay—all facedown. All but one. All but the joker.

The joker—it was like no joker I had ever seen.

It had huge round eyes that bulged right out of their sockets. Hideous eyes! I felt as if they could see me!

Its bright red lips curved up in a crooked, evil smile.

The joker wore a floppy green cap with bells. In its hand it held a stick. On the top of the stick sat a skull. A skull with eyes that glowed like hot coals!

“Yuck!” Louisa squealed, turning her face away. “It’s so ugly!”

I started to turn away too—when the joker’s face began to move!

Its eyeballs darted left and right! First it peered at me. Then it glared at Louisa. Then Jeff.

The joker’s eyeballs came to rest on Frankie. Its mouth twisted open—in a grin full of yellow, jagged teeth.

I stared in horror. I couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong?” Max’s mom asked. “What are you looking at?”

At the sound of her voice, the joker’s ugly face froze.

Had it really moved?

Or had I imagined it?

I glanced at my friends. Had they seen it?

But they were all staring at me. “Brit, what’s the matter?” Louisa asked. “You’re so pale!”

“The joker . . . ” I began. But then I trailed off. No way. It wasn’t possible. I couldn’t have seen it move!

Could I?

Mrs. Davidson bent and picked up the card. “What a horrible card!” she cried. She gathered up the other cards from the floor.

“Let me have all the cards, kids,” she said. “I’ll check to make sure there aren’t any more jokers. How in the world did this terrible-looking thing get into the deck in the first place?”

Max only shrugged as he handed his mom his cards. He didn’t seem very upset about the joker. Maybe his doctor told him not to get excited—about anything.

But I was plenty excited. My heart was racing!

“That was horrible,” I told Frankie. “That wasn’t a regular joker. No wonder you screamed.”

“I told you—I didn’t scream,” Frankie said.

“Come on, Frankie,” Jeff said. “Just admit it. We all heard you. I bet the whole neighborhood heard you.”

Frankie glared. “Would you all just—”

“There. I’ve checked the deck. There aren’t any more ugly jokers,” Mrs. Davidson interrupted. She handed the deck of cards to Max. “Remember, it’s good card manners to let someone cut the cards, Max.”

Max began shuffling.

“Um . . . you really want to play?” I asked.

Max shrugged. “Why not?”

“Yes, but . . . ” I began. I stopped. With the jokers out of the deck, I guess it was okay to play.

We played hand after hand of hearts. By the time the four of us left Max’s house, I saw clubs and diamonds, hearts and spades swimming before my eyes.

And I still saw that ugly joker. Saw its evil grin. Saw it move.

How could a single card be so frightening?

How?

5

“I wish we’d left earlier,” Louisa grumbled as we walked along Fear Street in the dark. “I hate this street at night.”

“It seems like the streetlights are always broken here,” I complained. “I can’t see a thing!”

“We could always cut through Mrs. Murder’s yard again,” Frankie suggested.

“No way!” I said. Then I heard something. “Hey, listen. What’s that?”

I glanced in the direction of Mrs. Marder’s house. But it was too dark to see anything.

“I hear something rattling,” Jeff whispered.

Rattling—that was the sound I heard. Rattling—like someone shaking a can full of pebbles.

“I hear it,” Louisa agreed. “Listen. It’s getting louder.”

My eyes searched the shadows along Fear Street.

“Hey!” Frankie yelled suddenly. “Watch it, buddy!”

I whirled around.

I saw Frankie sprawled on the sidewalk. A small figure bent over him. A kid. He must have run into Frankie and knocked him down. Now he said something to Frankie.

“Frankie!” Louisa called. “Are you okay?”

Frankie didn’t answer.

The figure straightened up. He wasn’t very tall. He wore a green hat with a brim pulled down low over his forehead. I couldn’t make out his face under the brim. The only thing I could see clearly was the stick he held in his hand.

I ran toward Frankie—and the shadowy figure shook his stick fiercely. Something rattled inside. He let out a scream—and raced away into the darkness.

“Frankie, are you okay?” I asked. “Who was that?”

“I don’t know, some little kid,” Frankie groaned. “Boy, he sure slammed into me hard!” He stood up and rubbed his arm.

The four of us huddled close together as we walked along Fear Street.

“He said something weird,” Frankie began as we headed home. “It sounded like ‘We shake the skull . . . . ’ No. That wasn’t it.”

He frowned, trying to remember. “I know. ‘We shake the skull with eyes that gleam.’ ”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jeff said.

Frankie shrugged. “That’s what it sounded like.”

“That can’t be what he said. Maybe he said something like, sorry to shake you up,” Louisa suggested.

“No. That’s not what he said.” Frankie sounded definite.

That didn’t stop Louisa. “Maybe the skull part was about how he hoped you didn’t crack your skull.”

Frankie groaned. “Louisa. Do me a favor. Stop guessing.”

We didn’t talk the rest of the way to Frankie’s house. I had to admit, Louisa’s explanations were pretty lame.

Frankie paused on his porch. “Listen,” he said. “I’m sorry about getting you guys in trouble.”

By the porch light I saw that Frankie was pretty scraped up. The side of his face was raw where he’d hit the pavement. And there was a strange, dark bruise above his wrist. It looked almost as if it were in the shape of a flower. Or something.

“Frankie, that bruise . . . ” I pointed to his arm. “It’s shaped like . . . like a club,” I said, suddenly seeing it.

“A club?” Frankie studied the bruise. “What do you mean?”

“You know—the card suit,” I said. “Like spades, or hearts.”

“Huh?” He stared at me.

“Brit, I think you’re losing it,” Louisa told me.

Maybe. But I wasn’t so sure.

First—there was that hideous joker. Now—the club-shaped mark on Frankie’s arm. Was I imagining them because I didn’t like cards?

Or was there something going on?

Something bad?

6

“Truth or dare!” Louisa challenged me in the cafeteria on Monday. “Do you think Frankie is cute?”

“Spike is cute,” I replied, reminding her of what she said about the rat. “Frankie is—interesting.”

“He’s cute,” Louisa told me. “But he needs a haircut.”

“You always want to fix everybody’s hair!” I exclaimed.

I checked my watch. Oh, no—I was late! I bolted from my seat.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Louisa asked.

“I almost forgot! I have to meet Frankie,” I explained. “Mr. Emerson wants us to hang a community-service club poster. Lunch period is the only time we can do it.”

“You and Frankie, huh?” Louisa waggled her eyebrows at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Louisa, quit it! Meet me by my locker after school, okay?” I gathered up my books.

“Right.” Louisa nodded. “Tell Frankie I said hi!”

I charged out of the cafeteria. In the main hallway I spotted Frankie walking with the principal. Mr. Emerson had a large roll of poster paper under one arm. I hurried to meet them.

“Brittany.” Mr. Emerson smiled. “I’ve been hearing about your visit with Max on Saturday. His mother said you really cheered him up. That’s terrific! Maybe your visits will help him get well faster.”

“I hope so,” I said. And I did hope Max felt better. But I had another reason too. Between Max and my little brother, I was really sick of cards!

Mr. Emerson showed us where he wanted us to put up the poster. He handed me a roll of masking tape.

“Mr. Stock from maintenance set this up for you,” he said, pointing to a five-rung ladder. “If the tape runs out, there’s another roll on my desk. Help yourself.” Then he left.

“Okay, let’s see how high I can hang this baby.” Frankie started up the ladder with the poster.

“I’ll make tape rolls,” I offered. “You can stick them under the edges of the poster. That way the tape won’t show.”

I began tearing off strips of masking tape and rolling them with the sticky side out.

When Frankie was on the fourth rung of the ladder, he reached down for a tape roll.

I handed it to him—and caught a glimpse of his arm.

“Frankie!” I exclaimed. “That bruise!”

The bruise had darkened. Its outline had become more definite. Now it looked exactly like a black three-leaf clover. Like a club.

“Yeah. It’s weird.” Frankie took the tape. “You know what else? It doesn’t hurt. Bruises definitely hurt. And this one doesn’t.”

We both stared at the strange mark on Frankie’s arm. “Maybe it’s dirt,” I said.

“That’s what I thought,” he replied. “But I tried scrubbing it. It won’t come off.”

If it isn’t a bruise and it isn’t dirt—what is it? I wondered as I made tape loops.

I came to the end of the roll. “Hey, Frankie. Don’t move!” I ordered. “We’re out of tape.”

I hurried around the corner to the principal’s office to get another roll. As I reached for the tape on his desk, I heard a humming sound. Had Mr. Emerson left his computer on?

I checked. No.

A fan? No.

I shrugged and left the office.

In the hallway I could still hear the sound. But it changed from a hum to a hiss.

Suddenly I pictured Mrs. Marder’s hissing, snarling cats. What an odd thing to think about.

As I walked down the corridor, the sound grew louder.

Now it didn’t sound so much like hissing—more like rattling.

Like the sound we heard last night on Fear Street.

I hurried down the hall.

The rattling grew louder.

I started to run.

“Frankie!” I called.

He didn’t answer.

Then I heard a crash!

And a horrible scream!

“Frankie!” I shouted. “Are you okay? Frankie!”

7

I skidded around the corner. Then I screeched to a stop.

“Oh, no!” My knees began to tremble. “Frankie! How did this happen?”

Frankie lay on the floor.

The ladder rested on top of him.

The poster was draped over his body.

“Are you okay?” I shoved the ladder off him.

But Frankie didn’t answer. He didn’t move.

I ripped away pieces of the heavy poster. “Frankie! Say something!” I begged.

Frankie moaned. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“What happened?” I demanded as he sat up.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “It all happened so fast.” Then he lowered his voice. “But I didn’t fall.”

“What do you mean?”

“First I heard this sound. This—rattling sound,” he said.

Frankie heard it too! So I didn’t imagine it!

“Then,” he went on, “these two kids came zooming down the hall. Little kids. Like second-graders. They pushed the ladder over. Then one of them said something—”

“Frankie,” I interrupted. “The sound you heard—was it the same as that night on Fear Street? That rattling sound?”

“Yeah.” Frankie nodded. “It was the same.”

He stared off into space for a second.

I waved a hand in front of his face. “Can you remember anything about the kids who pushed over the ladder?” I asked him. “What they said? What they looked like?”

“They sped down the hall so fast,” Frankie told me, “and—wait a sec. There is one thing. They had on strange hats.”

I don’t know why, but my mind suddenly flashed on Mrs. Marder again. Mrs. Marder—with the green bandanna tied around her head. Mrs. Marder—screaming at us. Screaming about how she would make us pay.

“Well.” Frankie shrugged. “I guess I’m okay anyway.”

We cleaned up the mess on the floor. Later we’d have to explain to Mr. Emerson what happened to the poster.

As we walked to our next class, Frankie still seemed sort of dazed. He had this distant look in his eyes, like he was trying really hard to remember something.

He turned to me. “One of the kids who knocked over the ladder said, ‘We make our marks, we laugh and scream!’ ” he told me. “Weird, huh?”

I drew in a breath. It was weird. “What about last night on Fear Street? What did you think that kid said?”

“ ‘We shake the skull with eyes that gleam,’ ” Frankie remembered.

“Hey!” I cried. “It’s some kind of rhyme. Listen. ‘We shake the skull with eyes that gleam! We make our marks, we laugh and scream!’ See? The lines go together.”

A bell rang. Kids poured out of classrooms into the hallway. They pushed by us. But Frankie and I stood there, staring at each other.

“Something very weird is going on,” I said at last.

Frankie raised his hand and touched the bump on his forehead.

When I saw his arm, I gasped.

“What’s the matter?” Frankie asked. “What’s wrong?”

I opened my mouth. But no words came out.

“Stop it, Brit!” Frankie cried. “Say something!”

All I could do was point to his arm.

There was another mark on it.

Above the club.

But this one wasn’t black.

It was red.

And it was in a shape I knew.

The shape of a perfect diamond.

8

“lt—it looks like a diamond,” Frankie whispered. His eyes were glued to the mysterious shape on his arm.

I rubbed my finger over the club and the diamond. They were smooth. “They’re like tattoos.”

“They are like tattoos,” he agreed. “But I haven’t been to any tattoo places. So how did I get them?”

Neither of us knew.

*  *  *

That afternoon the four of us headed for Max’s house again.

I kept waiting for Frankie to tell Louisa and Jeff about getting pushed off the ladder. Or about the diamond-shaped mark on his arm. But he just walked along silently. Maybe he was trying to forget.

“What are we going to do with Max today?” Louisa asked.

“Let’s think of something new,” I suggested. “Something besides card games.”

“What else can we play with a sick kid?” Jeff asked. “Touch football?”

“No,” I snapped. “But what about Monopoly? Or Scrabble? I’d even play Candy Land! Anything but cards.”

“Oh, Brittany,” Jeff said. “It’s only for a couple of hours.”

I glanced at Frankie. Why didn’t he speak up? Why didn’t he tell anyone about the marks on his arm? I wondered. He had even more reason than I did for being sick of cards.

Well, he could keep quiet if he wanted to. I was going to say something.

“Frankie?” I asked. “Are those marks still on your arm?”

“What marks?” Louisa asked.

Frankie pulled up his shirt cuff. They were there all right.

“Do you see them, Louisa?” I asked her. “A club shape and a diamond?”

Louisa squinted. “Yeah, I guess I see what you mean,” she admitted. “I can sort of see the shapes.”

“You guys are crazy,” Jeff declared. “One’s a dark bruise and the other’s a reddish scrape. That’s all.”

“Right,” Frankie agreed, pulling down his cuff in a rush. “That’s all. No big deal.”

I stared at him. I didn’t know what to say.

Those marks on his arm were definitely a club and a diamond.

Frankie knew they were strange. That they weren’t a bruise and a scrape. That each one had come after someone pushed him down. We had talked about it! Why was he denying it now?

We turned the corner. There was Mrs. Marder’s witchy old house.

I shivered as I thought about her yelling at me.

What did she mean, she was going to make us pay?

We stopped at the gate and stared into her yard. No sign of her. She was probably in her kitchen, brewing up some strange potion!

But her cats stalked everywhere. Under the bushes. Through the grass. Around the birdbath—hungrily eyeing the sparrows splashing in it.

“We should do something to help those poor little birdies,” Frankie said suddenly. His voice had a nasty edge. “Come on!” He opened the gate and darted into the yard.

Jeff groaned.

Frankie stopped and turned toward us. A wicked grin crossed his face. He waved us in.

“What do you think, Brit?” Louisa whispered. “Should we go?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, biting my lip. “Mrs. Marder is really mad at us already.”

“I’m not going,” Jeff declared. “I’m taking the long way to Max’s. See you.” He turned and walked toward Fear Street.

Frankie vanished around the side of Mrs. Marder’s house.

“Brit, we have to get Frankie out of there,” Louisa whispered. “Before Mrs. Murder sees him!”

“Right.” I grabbed her arm. “Let’s go!”

We ran through the gate.

My heart pounded as we dashed across the yard. Black cats hissed at us as they scattered.

I spotted Frankie. He stood over some big pots filled with blooming geranium plants. As I watched, he lifted up the biggest plant and ran with it across the yard.

“Frankie!” I called in a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. He kept running. Then he heaved the pot—flowers and all—right into the middle of the birdbath. It made an awful crash.

“There!” he cried loudly. “That’ll keep the birdies out of danger!”

I groaned. Why did he do that?

“Are you nuts?” Louisa shouted at Frankie. “Come on, Brit! Let’s get out of here!”

“Too bad, kitties!” Frankie yelled. “No birdies for you! Fly away birds. Fly away.” He ran around the yard, flapping his arms. “You’re safe now.”

“You’re not!” a voice screamed behind us.

I gave a yelp of surprise.

I whipped my head around.

Mrs. Marder!

“I warned you!” she shrieked. “Now you’ll pay!”

9

Mrs. Marder took a step toward us. The green bandanna on her head fluttered in the wind.

“You!” she screamed.

Was she pointing at me?

“Run!” I cried. “Let’s get out of here!”

Louisa, Frankie, and I charged out of the yard. We didn’t stop running until we reached Max’s house.

I put out my hands and stopped myself on a tree trunk, gasping for breath.

“Did you see the awful look in her eyes?” I cried.

“I did.” Louisa’s voice shook. “I’m scared, Brit! Maybe we should tell Mrs. Davidson what happened.”

Jeff stood on the front steps, looking smug. When he saw us, he turned and rang the bell.

Mrs. Davidson opened the door wearing a jade-green T-shirt and dark jeans. “Hi, kids!” she greeted us. “Come in! Max can’t wait to get started today. He has the cards all shuffled.”

“Mrs. Davidson, we have to talk to you,” Louisa declared.

“Of course.” A look of concern came over Mrs. Davidson’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“You know the house right behind yours?” Louisa asked as we entered the living room.

Mrs. Davidson nodded. “The Marder house.”

“Mrs. Marder is evil!” I blurted out. “She’s a witch!”

“Oh, that poor woman!” Mrs. Davidson said. “She isn’t evil! She doesn’t take much time with her appearance, that’s all.”

“But all those stories about her—” I began.

Mrs. Davidson shook her head. “You mustn’t believe those stories. They are so silly! Especially the one about the kids who trespassed in her yard.”

“What kids?” Louisa asked. “I never heard that story.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a ridiculous rumor.” Mrs. Davidson frowned slightly. “I shouldn’t repeat it. These kinds of rumors are so mean.”

“Please tell us,” I begged. “Please!”

“Oh, all right.” Mrs. Davidson sighed. “But remember—it’s just a story. A silly story.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. Not at all.

“One day,” Mrs. Davidson began, “four children supposedly wandered into Mrs. Marder’s backyard. They were only seven or eight years old. Too young to know any better. They stepped on one of her plants or something. When she saw what they’d done—so the story goes—she got really angry and put a spell on them.”

“A spell?” My heart was racing. “What kind of spell?”

“Oh, it’s too silly to tell.” Mrs. Davidson started to leave the room. “Let’s go see Max.”

“No!” I yelled. “I mean, please tell us the rest of the story. Please.”

Mrs. Davidson’s glance moved across each of our faces. “Oh, all right. I suppose everyone likes a scary story now and then. But remember—it’s just a story.”

We all nodded, eager to hear the rest. And dreading it at the same time.

“She chased the children out of her yard,” Mrs. Davidson went on. “But from that moment on, the children complained that little creatures followed them everywhere. Attacking them when they least expected it.”

Blood drained from Frankie’s face. He looked scared to death.

I gasped.

“Oh, kids! It’s only a silly story.” Mrs. Davidson shook her head. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Yes, we do!” Louisa cried. “We ran through her garden. And Frankie dumped over her wheelbarrow and smashed a big plant in her birdbath!”

I glanced at Frankie. Now he had a strange grin on his face.

“I told you—it was just a silly story,” Mrs. Davidson said soothingly. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

We stared silently at Mrs. Davidson. We all looked pretty scared. All except Jeff. He still looked smug. Like he wanted to say “I told you so.”

“Listen.” Mrs. Davidson broke the silence. “Why don’t I phone Mrs. Marder and tell her you’re very sorry for ruining her plant? I’ll tell her how nice you’ve been to Max. She won’t stay mad long.”

“Oh, would you?” I cried with relief.

“I’ll do it right now.” Mrs. Davidson stood up and went into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

Soon I heard her talking. I couldn’t make out what she was saying. But the sound of her voice on the phone made me feel better.

Mrs. Davidson returned, smiling. “I told Mrs. Marder you didn’t mean any harm,” she reported. “And I told her how much your visits have helped Max.”

“Is—is she still angry at us?” I stammered.

“Well, yes,” Mrs. Davidson admitted. “But don’t worry. She’ll calm down. I offered to pay for the plant—but she said no. Then I promised her that you wouldn’t do anything like this again. Now, run on down the hall. Max is waiting!”

I followed my friends to Max’s room, thankful that Mrs. Davidson had called Mrs. Marder. Even though Mrs. Marder was still angry, I felt a little better. At least she knew we were sorry.

Max sat at the table shuffling the cards. When we walked into his room, he glanced up. The circles under his eyes seemed darker than ever.

“Hi, Max!” I slid into a chair next to his. I leaned toward him. “Listen,” I whispered, “you think we could play something besides cards today?”

Max stared at me with his pale blue eyes. Then he shook his head. “No. Let’s play cards,” he said. “That’s why you’re here.”

“We’re not here to play cards, Max. We’re here to visit you because you’re sick,” I told him. “Can’t we play something else? I don’t really like cards.”

A smile appeared on Max’s lips. But he only shoved the cards toward me so I could cut them.

As he began dealing, I thought I heard him whisper, “I don’t either.” But when I glanced over at him, he was staring straight ahead, dealing.

We didn’t pick up our cards until they were all dealt. Mrs. Davidson said that was good card manners.

I opened my hand one card at a time. I’d looked at about half of my cards, when I heard it.

A piercing scream.

So loud, I dropped my cards and covered my ears.

The scream went on and on, louder and louder.

And then it stopped. Suddenly.

Now all I could hear was Louisa.

“No!” she was yelling. “Get it away!”

She flung a card out of her hand.

It landed on the table, faceup.

We all stared at it.

It was the face of another hideous joker! But this one was different from the one Frankie had been dealt. This one had green skin and small, bloodshot eyes. Its mouth turned down in a frown.

It wore the same green hat with bells at the tip. And it held the same stick—a skull at the top, with awful, gleaming eyes!

I couldn’t take my eyes off the joker’s hideous face.

As I stared at it—the mouth suddenly began to move!

The joker’s frown widened into a cruel snarl. The joker’s little eyes twirled around and around in their sockets.

And the joker opened its mouth in another horrifying wail.

10

Mrs. Davidson burst into Max’s room.

“What’s the matter?” she cried. “Who screamed?”

“It was this!” Louisa wailed. She pointed to the card.

“The joker?” Mrs. Davidson gasped. “You mean the card screamed?”

Louisa nodded.

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Davidson exclaimed. “You know that’s impossible. You’re all upset because the card is so ugly.”

She slipped the card in her pocket. Then she reached for the deck. “I don’t know how it got in there. I thought I took all the jokers out myself. Sorry, I guess I missed this one.”

I peered over Mrs. Davidson’s shoulder as she studied the cards one by one. “Okay, no more jokers. They’re all gone.” She smiled and handed the deck back to Max.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” Louisa said the minute Mrs. Davidson left the room. “Max—please. Let’s play something else.”

Max ignored her. He shuffled a few times. He asked Jeff to cut, and then he dealt. We picked up our cards. We didn’t know what else to do.

Instantly, the screaming began!

“Get it away!” Louisa cried. She threw her cards down on the table and leapt from her chair. “It’s here!” she shrieked. “It’s screaming!”

There it was!

On the table.

The joker!

And it was screaming!

I gaped at the joker’s awful face. Stared at its horrible mouth as it let out its hideous scream.

How could this be? How did it get back in the deck?

How could it scream?

How could a card scream?

Suddenly, it fell silent again.

My eyes darted from Louisa, to Jeff, to Frankie.

Louisa and Jeff stared at the card in horror.

Frankie’s glance was cool, almost amused.

Then I heard the sound.

Hssssssss!

I glanced toward the window.

A black cat crouched on the sill outside Max’s window!

It shifted its gaze—until its eyes rested on me. Its evil, gleaming green eyes.

That was when it hit me.

“It’s Mrs. Marder!” I cried, tossing my cards down. “She’s the one making these jokers appear. She’s the one making them scream!”

Everyone stared at me.

Then Frankie started laughing like a maniac.

“It’s not funny!” I yelled at him. “It’s true. One of her cats is here right now! Look!” I pointed to the windowsill.

But the cat had vanished.

“It was there!” I insisted. “Didn’t any of you see it?”

Jeff, Louisa, and Max shook their heads.

Frankie started laughing again.

“I know Mrs. Marder’s behind this somehow,” I declared.

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Davidson entered the room and scooped up the joker from the table. “Two cards must have been stuck together,” she said softly.

She turned to Louisa. “Did you scream, dear? Did you scream at this ugly, ugly card?” Mrs. Davidson stared at the card in her hands and shuddered. “I can’t blame you.”

“I—I wasn’t screaming,” Louisa stammered. “It was the card. The card was screaming!”

“What imaginations you kids have!” Mrs. Davidson smiled. Shook her head. Then she left the room.

“You heard it!” Louisa exclaimed. “You heard it screaming. Didn’t you?” She turned to Frankie and Jeff.

“Yeah, right,” Jeff laughed. “Screaming card. Good one, Louisa.”

Frankie’s face was uncertain. “It doesn’t make sense, but . . . ” he began. Then he trailed off.

“Max?” Louisa asked. “You heard it. Right?”

“I heard the screaming,” Max said evenly. “I heard you screaming.”

But Louisa didn’t scream.

I was sure of it.

It was the joker—and Mrs. Marder’s evil magic made it happen. Now I was sure of that too.

Somehow—some way—I had to prove it.

*  *  *

“Thanks for coming home with me, Brit,” Louisa said after we left Max’s. We were in her kitchen, hunting for something to eat. “My mom’s meeting won’t be over until eight,” she went on. “I couldn’t stand coming into a dark, empty house tonight. Not after what happened today.”

I told Louisa all about Frankie falling off the ladder, and how he got the diamond-shaped mark on his arm. “What are we going to do?” I asked her now. “Mrs. Marder is behind all of this. I know it.”

The color drained from Louisa’s face. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she said. “It’s too creepy. Let’s look at my new Seventeen magazine instead.”

Louisa ran upstairs to her room to get the magazine.

I peeled the foil off the top of a container of yogurt. I took a spoonful—and froze.

Hsssss!

I listened closely.

Hsssss!

There it was again.

Coming from upstairs.

Growing louder.

I jumped up and ran for the steps.

The hissing turned to rattling. Loud rattling.

“Louisa!” I cried.

Louisa answered—with a terrified scream!

I bolted to the staircase.

Started to run up the steps.

But Louisa was rolling down them—headfirst.

“Louisa!” I shrieked as she tumbled into me.

Dizzy, I struggled to sit up—and saw the three short figures. Dressed all in black, except for their green hats.

They zoomed down the steps. Leapt over us. Flung open the front door.

And ran out into the night.

11

“Ohhhh!” Louisa moaned. “I—I hurt my ankle.”

I helped her up. She hobbled into the family room and collapsed on the couch.

I ran to the front door and slammed it shut. I made sure it was locked.

“Those things—they appeared out of nowhere. Suddenly they were there—right next to me!”

“I—I saw them too.” My voice shook.

“They lunged at me. They pushed me down the steps!” Louisa exclaimed.

“It’s Mrs. Marder,” I whispered. “It’s Mrs. Marder’s magic. Just like in the story Mrs. Davidson told us. It’s just like what happened to those little kids! This is horrible!”

“It’s worse than horrible,” Louisa wailed. “One of those—those things said something to me.”

“What? Louisa, what did it say?” I asked.

Louisa closed her eyes. Then she repeated what she had heard. “ ‘Her army strengthens day by day.’ That’s it.”

Her army strengthens day by day. I repeated the words in my mind. What did it mean?

“Brittany, I’m scared!” Louisa hid her face in her hands.

I gasped.

“Louisa! Your arm!”

Louisa stared down at her left arm. “No!” she screamed. “No!”

On her arm was a bruise. A bruise in the shape of a black club.

She began rubbing it furiously, trying to make the mark disappear. But the club stayed—as if permanently printed on her skin.

I ran into the kitchen for a pencil and piece of paper. I wrote down what Frankie’s attackers had said to him. Then I wrote down what Louisa had heard.

“Listen to this,” I told Louisa. I read:

“We shake the skull with eyes that gleam

We make our marks, we laugh and scream

Her army strengthens day by day

“It’s part of the rhyme!” I decided.

Louisa shrugged. “I don’t get what it means.”

“Me either,” I confessed. “But it must mean something!”

I stared down at what I had written. “Let’s see—the skull. There’s a skull in the base of Mrs. Marder’s birdbath. Did you see it?”

Louisa shook her head.

“Well, it’s there. Maybe at night its eyes gleam.”

“Wait.” Louisa gazed off into the distance. Trying to remember something. “The joker card. It had a stick—and on top was a skull!”

“That’s right!” I snapped my fingers. “And the skull had weird, glowing eyes!”

Now we were getting somewhere!

I read the next line. “We make our marks. We laugh and scream. The marks—they must be the club and diamond shapes,” I said.

The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together.

“The first time we went to Max’s, Frankie was dealt a joker,” I murmured, thinking back. “Then, on the way home, we heard hissing and rattling— and a scream. Then someone pushed Frankie down. After that we saw the club shape on his arm.”

Louisa nodded.

“Today you were dealt the joker,” I went on. “Then we heard hissing and rattling and a scream—and you were pushed down.”

“But why?” Louisa whispered. “Why is it happening to us?”

“Mrs. Marder is doing this! She put a spell on us!” I exclaimed. “She said she’d make us pay for ruining her plants! She’s evil. She’s really evil!”

Louisa’s face twisted as if she were about to cry. “What are we going to do?”

“We have to stop her,” I declared.

“How?” Louisa demanded.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I’m going to come up with a plan.”

Louisa’s mom came home then. I left a few minutes later.

I live just a few houses away from Louisa. I started for my house—in the dark. It’s woodsy at Louisa’s end of the street. The houses are spread out among the trees.

As I hurried home, something moving in the woods caught my eye.

I heard rustling.

And a high-pitched wail.

Terrified, I glanced over my shoulder.

Something shifted behind a bush. Something green!

And then I saw it—the top of a green hat.

As I stared in horror, the green hat rose. Up from behind the bushes.

No—not a green hat.

A green bandanna—on the head of Mrs. Marder!

She stared at me with the strangest smile on her face.

A completely evil smile.

12

“I’m so happy it’s Saturday!” I sang as I passed the basketball to Jeff. “No cards at Max’s house today!”

We were playing hoops in my driveway. Louisa and Frankie against me and Jeff. Jeff shot the ball back to me.

“Let’s take a break,” Louisa suggested. “My ankle’s starting to hurt.”

We sat down at the picnic table by our driveway. Our house is at the top of a high, steep hill. For a minute we all gazed down at the view of Shadyside.

“Only three more days of visiting Max,” I said at last.

Jeff glanced at me. “Max is nice. Why don’t you like him?”

“I like him fine,” I protested. “I just don’t want to play cards anymore!”

I hesitated a minute. Then I said what was really on my mind. Ever since I saw Mrs. Marder in the woods, I had been thinking of a plan. Now was my chance to spring it on everybody.

“I think we have to sneak into Mrs. Marder’s house and find proof that she’s behind the jokers!” I announced.

Jeff shook his head. “Mrs. Marder wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

His attitude was really starting to bug me. “How do you know, Jeff?” I demanded. I crossed my arms. “Why are you sticking up for Mrs. Marder? Do you know something we don’t know?”

Jeff scowled. He picked up the basketball and angrily hurled it at the basket—hard! The ball bounded off the backboard and sailed out of our driveway.

“I’ll get it!” Frankie jumped up and dashed down the hill. He ran until we couldn’t see him anymore.

“Sorry,” Jeff muttered. He sat back on the bench and scowled down at his feet. “Look,” he began. “If you want to know—”

“Shhh!” Louisa interrupted him. “Listen!”

That’s when I heard it.

Hsssss.

I sprang to my feet. “The hissing!”

I whirled around. Searching frantically for a black cat—or a little kid wearing a green hat.

I didn’t see either one.

Then it hit me.

“Frankie!” I cried.

I raced down the hill. Jeff followed right behind me.

The hissing grew stronger.

Then the rattling sounds began.

At the bottom of the hill, four little kids on bicycles appeared from a side street.

Four little kids. Dressed all in black. Wearing green floppy hats.

Those hats . . .

Finally, I put it together.

They’re not little kids at all, I realized in horror.

“What are those kids doing down there?” Jeff asked.

“Those aren’t kids!” I cried, putting on more speed. “Don’t you see? They’re jokers! The jokers from the card deck!”

My sneakers pounded the grass as I ran down the hill.

I cupped my hands around my mouth. I tried to warn Frankie. “Look out!” I cried. But Frankie was chasing the ball at the bottom of the hill.

He didn’t hear me.

He didn’t see the jokers aiming straight for him.

The hissing and rattling grew louder.

Frankie bent down to pick up the ball.

A deep rumbling sound filled the air. Was it coming from the jokers?

No! It was a huge truck speeding up the road.

The jokers heard it too. They pedaled harder—and barreled right into Frankie.

The jolt knocked Frankie into the air. He landed in the street. And didn’t move.

The truck driver should have hit the brakes. But he didn’t.

The truck picked up speed.

“Noooo!” I screamed.

The truck headed straight for Frankie—and Frankie didn’t move!

13

I froze.

Stared in horror as the truck aimed for Frankie.

Suddenly the truck’s brakes began to squeal.

The driver saw Frankie! He was trying to stop the enormous truck!

The tires screamed as they skidded across the road—and the truck screeched to a stop. Barely a foot in front of Frankie.

The driver threw open his door and ran over to Frankie. Jeff and I reached him at the same time. We all knelt down by his side.

Frankie was knocked out cold. But he was breathing.

“What happened?” the driver asked. He was a big, muscular guy.

“A bike hit him,” Jeff explained.

Frankie opened his eyes then. He groaned and sat up.

“Boy, that was a close one.” The driver shook his head.

Frankie wouldn’t let anyone call an ambulance. When the truck driver was sure Frankie was really okay, he left.

Jeff and I helped Frankie up. We walked him over to the sidewalk as Louisa came limping down the hill.

“What happened?” she cried.

“The jokers attacked Frankie again!” I told her. “Then he almost got run over by a truck!”

“Frankie, your arm!” Louisa covered her mouth with her hand.

We all stared at his left arm—and gasped.

Next to the club and diamond—there was something new.

A spade.

I whirled to face Jeff. “Now do you see them?” I shouted.

Jeff didn’t answer. But his eyes were wide. Frightened.

“All I’m missing is a heart.” Frankie’s voice was very quiet. He ran his finger over the spade.

“Did the jokers say anything to you?” I asked him.

“Uh-huh.” Frankie nodded. “ ‘You play her game, she’ll make you pay.’ ”

I grabbed Louisa’s arm. “See? It is Mrs. Marder! That’s what she said! She’s making us pay by scaring us half to death! Listen to this:

“We shake the skull with eyes that gleam

We make our marks, we laugh and scream

Her army strengthens day by day

You play her game! She’ll make you pay!

“Don’t you guys see? The jokers are part of Mrs. Marder’s spell!” I cried. “They must be part of her army. And they keep coming after us. More jokers each time. It started with one. But this time there were four. Next time there’ll be five! We have to stop Mrs. Marder!”

“Hold on,” Jeff protested. “You’ve got it all wrong, Brittany. I was trying to tell you before. I know Mrs. Marder.”

My mouth fell open. “You do?” I managed to get out at last. “How come you never said anything?”

Jeff shrugged. “I deliver her groceries sometimes. That’s all. I don’t know her very well. But well enough to know that the stories aren’t true. She’s pretty cranky. But she isn’t a witch. And I don’t believe she’s behind these joker attacks.”

I stared at Jeff for a moment. How come he never told us before about knowing Mrs. Marder?

And another thing. How come he didn’t run through Mrs. Marder’s yard with the rest of us? And how come he took so long to admit that the marks on Frankie’s arm were card suits?

Was he on our side? Or was he on Mrs. Marder’s side?

I wasn’t sure what to believe. But his grocery-delivery story gave me an idea.

“Maybe Mrs. Marder is behind the jokers,” I said slowly, “and maybe she isn’t. But we’re going to find out.”

“How?” Louisa asked.

“Simple,” I answered. “We need to spy on Mrs. Marder.”

14

“Okay, here’s what we do,” I said. “Jeff, you deliver a load of groceries to Mrs. Marder on Monday after school. While you’re keeping her busy, we’ll sneak around her house. See if we can find out anything about the jokers.”

“One problem,” Jeff said. “I just made a delivery to her house yesterday.”

I still wasn’t sure about Jeff. If he went along with our spy plan, then I’d know he was on our side—if not, he was definitely on Mrs. Marder’s.

“So when she comes to the door, act confused,” I told him. “Say there’s been a mistake. Say anything! Just keep her busy. That way the rest of us can sneak onto her porch. We can peek in the windows. And maybe even slip inside for a fast look.”

Jeff sighed. “This is a really stupid idea. But I’ll do it. Only to prove how wrong you are about Mrs. Marder.”

*  *  *

On Monday I met everyone at the grocery store before we went to Max’s—and Mrs. Marder’s house.

We all chipped in for the groceries. Then we headed for her house.

“Ready, Jeff?” I asked as we stood outside the front gate.

Jeff nodded. He shifted the grocery bag to his other arm. Then he opened the gate and started up the walk.

Three cats jumped down from a windowsill. They circled Jeff, rubbing against his legs.

Louisa, Frankie, and I walked on past the gate. We hid behind the bushes on the far side of the house. I peeked out at Jeff. He had his finger on the doorbell.

I kept my eyes glued to Jeff. He rang the bell again.

At last he turned and mouthed to us: “She’s not home.”

I hadn’t thought of this. Mrs. Marder had always been home when we walked by.

“Okay,” I said. “She’s not home.” I took a deep breath. “Let’s see if we can sneak inside.”

“I don’t want to,” Louisa protested. “What if she catches us? It’s too scary.”

“Come on!” Frankie suddenly leapt up from our hiding place. “Let’s go!”

He raced through the gate, whooping. Then ran up the walk and galloped around on her porch.

“What is with him? He’s acting like an idiot!” I whispered to Louisa as I dragged her through the front gate.

The cats in the yard hissed as we hurried to the back door. I turned the doorknob. Click!

Yes! It wasn’t locked!

We crept inside.

Jeff quietly shut the door behind us. He set the bag of groceries down on the kitchen table.

Mrs. Marder’s kitchen was dark. It had a musty smell. The floor was yellowed. Dirty dishes sat in the sink. A head of wilted lettuce lay on the kitchen table. Beside it—a sharp carving knife.

My heart beat wildly.

We were inside the evil woman’s house!

Even in the dark, I could see the cats.

Cats sitting on the counters. Cats curled up on the floor. Cats stretched out on the kitchen chairs.

Black cats—everywhere.

“I can’t do this!” Louisa whispered.

“Stay calm!” I told her, trying not to panic myself. “We’ll be out of here in a few minutes. Okay, quick! Let’s look around. Let’s find out everything we can—and get out!”

While Frankie and Jeff poked around the kitchen, Louisa and I made our way down a dim hallway. The doors along it were all closed. Cats followed us, winding in and out among our feet.

I stopped before a door and cracked it open. Only a bathroom.

We walked to the next door.

“What if it’s her bedroom?” Louisa whispered. “What if she’s in there?”

Louisa’s panic was catching. I could hardly hear her over my pounding heart.

I had to force myself to take hold of the old glass knob and twist.

I started to push open the door.

But all of a sudden Frankie and Jeff appeared. Frankie shoved me aside. He raced into the room ahead of me, laughing wildly.

“Frankie! What’s wrong with—” I began.

I broke off.

We’d found Mrs. Marder’s bedroom.

A big four-poster bed stood against one wall. Facing it I saw a chest of drawers. Set in another wall was a big window. And then . . .

Whoa!

An enormous telescope stood by the window!

I stepped into the room.

It was filled with even more black cats. They sat on the floor, glaring at us with glowing yellow eyes.

Frankie peered through the telescope. He turned to me, grinning. “Take a look!” he crowed.

I put my eye to the telescope—and gasped. “I don’t believe it!”

15

I saw part of a room.

Max’s room!

The telescope was aimed right at Max’s window!

I backed away, speechless.

Louisa took a turn at the telescope. Her eyes were wide when she moved her head away from it.

Now it was Jeff’s turn. He bent down to take a look. Then he stared at me.

“Maybe you’re right, Brittany,” he whispered. “Maybe Mrs. Marder does have something to do with the jokers.”

“Of course I’m right!” I exclaimed. “She’s been spying on us. Watching us play cards. That’s why she used jokers for her evil spell!”

“What are we going to do?” Louisa asked.

“We have our proof,” I began. “Now—”

But that’s as far as I got.

Suddenly the cats raced out the bedroom door. All at once. As if they had been called.

“She’s home!” Louisa’s voice squeaked. “We’re trapped!”

“Come on!” Jeff whispered. He tiptoed quickly out of the bedroom. We followed right behind him.

Mrs. Marder’s voice floated down the hallway to us. We could hear her talking to her cats.

“She’s at the front door,” Jeff whispered.

He led the way silently to the kitchen. To the back door.

He turned the knob.

I didn’t hear any click.

He turned it again.

Nothing.

He began pulling on the door—hard!

But the door didn’t open.

It was locked!

Cats started streaming into the kitchen. Howling madly.

“What’s wrong, my little pets?” Mrs. Marder asked.

Oh, no! She’s coming. She’s right behind them!

Jeff pulled on the door with all his strength.

It wouldn’t budge.

16

I grabbed the doorknob.

I yanked on it frantically. No use. The door was stuck tight.

“Do something!” Louisa whimpered. “She’s coming!”

Frankie leapt to the door. He was grinning an awful grin.

He shoved Jeff and me aside and grabbed the doorknob. The door swung open.

How did he do that? I wondered. But I wasn’t about to stop and ask. The four of us charged through the door at the same time!

We ran for our lives.

We raced through Mrs. Marder’s backyard to Max’s. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder. What if she was behind us? Chasing us?

Jeff rang the doorbell again and again—until Mrs. Davidson opened it.

“Mrs. Davidson!” Louisa cried as she rushed in. “Help!”

“What’s the matter?” Mrs. Davidson asked. “Why are you all out of breath?”

“It’s too hard to explain,” Jeff told her once we were safely inside. “But we can’t play cards with Max anymore.”

Mrs. Davidson’s eyes grew wide. “Why not?” she asked. “Your card games are doing Max a world of good!”

“Because when we play, Mrs. Marder spies on us!” I exclaimed. “With a telescope! Then she makes those awful jokers appear.”

Mrs. Davidson raised her eyebrows.

“It’s true,” I insisted. “And they aren’t only on the cards. They show up in real life too! They attacked Frankie and Louisa—just like the creatures who attacked those poor kids in the story you told us!”

Mrs. Davidson shook her head. “You’re imagining this, Brittany dear.” She patted me lightly on the shoulder.

My heart sank. Mrs. Davidson didn’t believe us.

Probably no one would believe us, I realized with dread.

Who could believe such a wild story? As my words spilled out, even I thought I sounded crazy!

“Maybe you should play checkers today,” Mrs. Davidson suggested.

“Could we play in the living room?” Jeff asked.

Mrs. Davidson looked puzzled. “Why?”

“It’s the windows,” Louisa told her. “Mrs. Marder spies on us through Max’s windows.”

“Oh, all right.” Mrs. Davidson laughed. “The things you kids think up!” She led the way to Max’s room.

“Max?” She bent over him. “Do you feel up to playing in the living room today?”

Max shook his head silently.

I glanced at the windows. They had shades rolled all the way up. “Let’s pull down the shades,” I suggested. “Then we can play in here.”

Mrs. Davidson laughed again. But she lowered the shades. That made the room so dark, we had to turn on some lamps. But at least Mrs. Marder couldn’t spy on us.

“Surprise, Max!” Louisa announced as she carried a checkerboard over to his bed. “We’re going to play checkers. I’ll play you first.”

“And I’ll play the winner,” Jeff told Max.

But Max only stared at the checkerboard.

“What’s the matter, Max?” Mrs. Davidson asked. “Wouldn’t you like to play checkers for a change?”

Max shook his head. “No,” he whispered.

He looked so unhappy.

“All right, Max.” I sighed. “We’ll play Hearts if you want.”

“What?” Louisa exclaimed. “Am I hearing you right?”

“Yeah,” Jeff added. “This is a switch for you.”

I shrugged.

I had come prepared.

I reached into the back pocket of my jeans and drew out a deck of cards.

“There’s no way Mrs. Marder could have put any evil spell on these,” I announced as I handed my cards to Max. “Want to deal?”

Max smiled as he took the cards.

“Oh, thank you, kids!” Mrs. Davidson exclaimed. “Now everyone’s happy. Have a good time!” Then she left us to our game.

Max slid out of bed. He walked slowly over to the table and sat down. He began to shuffle the deck. Louisa cut the cards and Max dealt our hands.

I didn’t feel at all scared. I wasn’t one bit worried about anybody getting a joker.

When the cards had all been dealt, I picked up my hand. I straightened the cards. I looked at the first one.

And gasped.

There it was—a hideous joker.

My hands began to tremble.

How could this be? How did the joker get into my deck?

17

I felt a weird buzzing in my ears. For a moment, everything in the room seemed to fade. To turn gray.

I shook my head.

Everything came back into focus. I was staring at the card in my hand. A joker—with cold, evil, yellow eyes. The most horrible one I’d seen yet.

It was screaming!

“Nooo!” I shrieked.

I hurled my cards at the window.

How did she do it?

How did Mrs. Marder work her evil magic on my cards? How did she see us with the shades pulled down?

We didn’t stay at Max’s long that afternoon. I was still shaking when we left his house.

“Are you okay?” Jeff asked me as we headed down Fear Street.

“No!” I shouted. “I’m not okay! I feel like a walking target. I got a joker. Now something terrible is going to happen to me. I’m just waiting for the rattles and hisses to start. I’m waiting for a bunch of jokers to attack me!”

“Take it easy, Brit,” Jeff said. “We’ll stay with you. They won’t attack all of us.”

“We’ll walk you home,” Louisa offered. “Don’t worry.”

They walked me all the way to my front door. “Thanks, guys,” I told them. “You’re really good friends.”

For some reason, that sent Frankie into a fit of laughter.

“Frankie, quit it!” Louisa rolled her eyes. “You’ve been acting so weird lately. All you do is laugh. This isn’t funny.”

“Ha! Ha! The joke is on you,” Frankie said, and started to laugh some more.

The laughter pounded in my head. “Cut it out, Frankie!” I yelled. I just couldn’t stand the sound.

I broke away from the group and ran into my house. “Mom?” I called.

No answer.

“Mom?” I called again. My eyes searched the kitchen. There was no sign of my mom. And no sign that she’d been there.

No groceries. Nothing on the stove.

My heart began to race.

“MOM!” I screamed. “Where are you?”

No answer.

I turned and ran for the stairs.

“Jimmy?” I called. “Jimmy? Are you home?”

I waited to hear his voice.

But all I heard was a faint hissing sound.

Mom must be taking a shower, I tried to tell myself. It’s only the shower running.

That’s all.

Just the shower.

But the hissing sound grew louder—and turned into rattling.

I searched frantically for a place to hide.

All I could think of was the hall closet.

I dashed for it. I threw open the door—and screamed.

There they were—five ugly jokers in pointy green hats!

Waiting for me.

Leering at me with their hideous grins.

Each one held a stick—with a horrible, grinning skull perched on the top.

Their lips curled into an ugly sneer.

Then one moved forward. It raised its skull-stick high—then it lunged for me.

“Nooo!” I cried.

I dropped to the hall floor. I covered my head with my arms. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Three more jokers circled me. Danced around me. Swatted me with their skull-sticks.

They laughed and screamed. And chanted.

“All red and black must bow to green!

All red and black must bow to green!”

Over and over again.

I hugged my arms more tightly around my head.

They rattled their sticks wildly. Shrieking now. Shrieking madly.

Then all the noise stopped.

Gone. The jokers must be gone.

I slowly raised my head—and gasped.

They were still there! Hovering above me. Staring at me in eerie silence.

“Leave me alone!” I screamed. “Go away!”

The first joker stretched his hand toward me.

“Get away from me!” I cried, shrinking away.

But he yanked on my arm and pulled me to my feet.

I stared into his horrible eyes. And they began to glow an evil red.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” I stammered.

The joker glared at me. He lifted his skull-stick high in the air. The other jokers did the same.

They began to shake them again. More frantically than before.

The rattling was deafening.

I threw my hands over my ears. But I couldn’t drown out the terrifying sound.

The skulls seemed to start breathing. A green mist poured from their nostrils. Their hollow cheeks began to pulse. And from deep within their sockets, their eyes began to glow.

The jokers started singing their horrible chant.

“We shake the skull with eyes that gleam!

We make our marks, we laugh and scream!

Her army strengthens day by day

You play her game! She’ll make you pay!

All red and black must bow to green . . . . ”

Then they stopped—and ran out of the house.

My legs collapsed underneath me.

I couldn’t move.

I didn’t even move when the front door began to open.

I only stared.

“Brittany!” my mom exclaimed as she and Jimmy walked through the door. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

I didn’t answer. What could I say?

Mom held out a hand to help me.

“Where were you, Mom?” I asked quietly. “I came home and nobody was here.”

“Jimmy had a late doctor’s appointment,” she replied. “It was the only one we could get. I told you about it this morning.”

“You did? I—I guess I wasn’t listening.”

I knew I wasn’t listening. For the last week all I’d been thinking about was Mrs. Marder and her hideous jokers.

“Hey, Brit?” Jimmy said. “Want to see my new card trick?”

“Not now!” I yelled. A deck of cards was the last thing I wanted to see—

But then I changed my mind.

I was beginning to get an idea—

“Sure, Jimmy,” I said. “I’ll watch your new trick later.”

I turned toward the stairs. “Mom, I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go up to my room.”

I gripped the banister and slowly began to climb the steps.

“Hey, Brit?” Jimmy called after me. “What’s that thing on your arm?”

I glanced down.

My pulse suddenly thundered in my ears.

There it was.

Dark and clear.

The sign of the club.

18

The next morning before school, I found Jeff by his locker.

“Take a look.” I held out my arm and pushed up my sleeve.

“Oh!” he moaned. “The jokers got you! But how?”

I told him all about it. Including the new line of the rhyme.

“I’m really scared,” I admitted, shuddering.

“So am I,” Jeff said. “And Frankie is acting totally crazy.”

“I know,” I agreed. “The jokers have gotten him three times now. That’s enough to make anyone crazy, I guess.”

“You know, I was thinking—he seems to get worse with each mark on his arm,” Jeff pointed out.

I stared at him. “You’re right. I didn’t realize it—but you’re right!”

“Maybe we should talk to Mr. Emerson,” Jeff suggested. “We’ll tell him we can’t go to Max’s anymore.”

“It’ll never work,” I said gloomily. “We can’t tell him what’s happening. He’ll think we’re all crazy. Or worse—he’ll say that we made up the story to get out of going. Then we’ll really be in trouble.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Okay. We’ll go to Max’s this afternoon,” Jeff told me. “But we have to say no more cards. And we have to mean it!”

“Right,” I declared. “No cards, no jokers.”

Usually the school day seemed to drag by so slowly. But the one day I wanted to last forever whizzed by. I couldn’t believe it when the three-thirty bell rang.

“So who’s going to break the news to Mrs. Davidson and Max?” I asked as we headed toward Fear Street. “Who’s going to tell them we’re not playing cards?”

“I’ll do it,” Jeff volunteered. “And I won’t let them talk us into changing our minds.”

We turned a corner. Mrs. Marder’s house loomed in the distance. No way were we going to cut through her yard today!

We hurried past her gate—and the cats hissed at us.

“They’re really hissing loudly!” Louisa quickened her step.

Louisa was right. I’d never heard her cats hiss this loud before. And it seemed to be getting louder.

“Wait!” Louisa cried. “It’s not the cats! Look!”

Louisa pointed a trembling finger at some bushes ahead.

Jokers!

Six horrible jokers jumped out from behind the shrubs.

We froze in place.

The jokers leapt forward.

Circled us.

They rattled their skulls in our faces.

And began their awful chant:

“We shake the skull with eyes that gleam!

We make our marks, we laugh and scream!

Her army strengthens day by day,

You play her game! She’ll make you pay!

All red and black must bow to green . . . .

For she alone is now our queen!”

“Let’s get out of here!” Jeff yelled.

We broke through the horrible circle—and ran.

The jokers came after us. One of them whacked Louisa with its skull-stick.

“Split up!” I screamed.

We broke off in different directions.

I darted across the street. So did Frankie. Then we ran opposite ways. I glanced over my shoulder.

None of the jokers were chasing me.

Oh, no! They were all after Frankie.

What were they going to do to him?

19

I spun and ran after him. “We have to help Frankie!” I cried to the others.

The jokers grabbed Frankie. They held him by his arms and legs—and dragged him down the street.

They pulled him into the vacant lot across from Mrs. Marder’s. The lot with the big hole in the ground.

Jeff and Louisa raced over to me. Louisa was clutching her arm.

“Brit! It got me!” she cried. “One of the jokers hit my arm and—look!”

Next to the club on Louisa’s arm was a diamond.

“Help!” Frankie’s cry rang out from the lot. “Help me!”

We raced over to the lot. But when we got there, Frankie was nowhere to be seen. Neither were the jokers.

“Frankie?” my voice shook. “Where are you?”

As if answering me, the jokers popped out of the hole.

They laughed an evil laugh. They shook their skull-sticks hard. Then they ran off.

Louisa, Jeff, and I ran to the edge of the hole. We peered in. Frankie stood at the bottom, staring down.

“Frankie?” Jeff called. “You can come up. They’re gone.”

Frankie didn’t move.

“Come on, Frankie. It’s really okay,” I said.

Frankie stared down, motionless.

“You’re scaring me, Frankie!” Louisa cried.

“Let’s pull him out,” Jeff suggested.

The three of us leaned over the hole. We grabbed Frankie’s arms.

“One, two, three!” Jeff called, and we pulled.

Frankie didn’t fight us. But he didn’t help either. We struggled—but we finally tugged him out.

Jeff, Louisa, and I fell back on the ground, trying to catch our breath.

Frankie sat in the dirt, staring into space.

“Oh, no!” Louisa cried. “Look! Frankie’s arm!”

I was afraid to look. But I did.

There it was.

A heart.

“Oh, no, Frankie,” I moaned. “You have all four suits!”

What will happen now? I wondered. What will those horrible jokers do to him next?

Frankie glanced up, as if reading my thoughts.

I gazed into his face—and screamed.

His eyes bulged from their sockets.

His mouth twisted in a horrible grin.

His tongue hung out of his mouth.

“Frankie!” I cried. I turned frantically to Jeff and Louisa.

They were staring at Frankie in horror. They began to shrink away from him.

I turned back.

“Frankie?” I gasped.

He seemed to have shrunk.

He wore a shiny black clown suit. And a green floppy hat with bells at the tip. And little green pointy shoes.

Frankie grinned horribly at us.

Only he wasn’t Frankie anymore.

20

He was a joker!

Frankie opened his mouth and let out a terrible scream.

Then he whirled around and ran off, laughing.

He headed for Fear Street.

“Let’s follow him!” I yelled.

We chased him as he ran down the street, letting out little shrieks.

He ran fast. Faster than we could.

He ran to the end of the street and turned.

When we reached the corner, he was gone.

“That was so awful!” Louisa moaned. “Poor Frankie!”

“That’s what will happen to us if we don’t stop Mrs. Marder!” I exclaimed.

“We should go to Max’s house right now,” Louisa declared. “And call the police.”

We turned down Fear Street and ran on to Max’s.

It felt strange to be standing on his porch without Frankie.

Louisa rang the bell.

No one answered.

Louisa pressed the bell again—but no one came to the door.

“That’s weird,” Jeff said. “Mrs. Davidson knew we were coming.”

I pounded on the door. As I did, it opened. I stuck my head in. “Mrs. Davidson?” I called.

She didn’t answer.

“We have to hurry!” Louisa exclaimed. “Mrs. Davidson won’t mind if we go in and call the police.”

“Right,” Jeff agreed. “This is an emergency!”

We hurried inside.

“First let’s see if Max is in his room,” I suggested. “He might get frightened if he hears someone in the house.”

We ran down the hall to Max’s room.

Max sat in his bed, wearing his white pajamas. Shuffling a deck of cards.

“Max?” I spoke softly so I wouldn’t startle him. “Hi!”

He turned to face us. “Oh, hi,” he greeted us. “Want to play Hearts?”

“No!” Louisa exclaimed. She rushed over to his bed. “You know those awful jokers, Max?”

He nodded.

“They came alive. They attacked Frankie,” Louisa told him. “And he changed! Right in front of us, Frankie turned into a joker!”

Max’s pale blue eyes grew wide with fright. I hoped hearing bad news wasn’t going to make him sicker.

“We have to use your phone,” Jeff put in. “We have to call the police.”

“The phone’s in the kitchen, right?” I asked him.

But Max didn’t answer. He was mumbling something. At first I couldn’t understand him. But slowly the words became clear.

“She’s done it!” Max was saying. “She’s done it! She’s done it!” He chanted over and over.

“Max!” I cried. “Stop that! You’re making it worse!”

Max’s eyes turned to meet mine.

“Don’t you see, Brittany?” he asked softly. “She’s done it! It’s too late. We’re all doomed. All of us!”

21

“Max!” I cried. “What are you saying? You’re scaring me!”

But Max didn’t answer me. He kept repeating, “We’re doomed. We’re doomed.” I wondered if he had a fever or something.

Luckily, at that moment, Mrs. Davidson appeared in the doorway of his room.

“Hi, kids!” she exclaimed. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. But I’m glad you came today!” She smiled as she walked into the room.

“Mrs. Davidson, we have to call the police,” Louisa blurted out. “Something awful has happened to Frankie!”

“They got him!” Jeff sputtered. “They got Frankie!”

“Who got him?” Mrs. Davidson cried.

“They got him!” Jeff repeated. He was getting more upset by the second. “They got him!”

Mrs. Davidson gasped. “Has he been kidnapped?”

We all started talking at once then.

“Wait! Wait!” she cried. “If Frankie’s been kidnapped, I’d better call the police right now!”

“Yes!” we all cried. “Call the police!”

Mrs. Davidson hurried from the room.

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

At last someone was helping us!

“She’s done it,” Max kept muttering. “She’s done it!”

“Take it easy, Max,” I said. “Everything is going to be okay now.”

Max gazed up at me with his pale blue eyes. “She’s crazy, Brittany,” he whispered. “Completely crazy. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know she’s evil,” I said. “Poor Frankie! Maybe that’s where he ran. Maybe he ran to her house—”

“Brittany?” Louisa cut in. “Mrs. Davidson doesn’t really know what happened. I think we should talk to the police. We have to tell them everything—right now! The sooner we tell them, the sooner they can help Frankie!”

“That makes sense,” I said. “I’ll catch Mrs. Davidson before she hangs up.”

I ran down the hall. As I neared the kitchen, I heard Mrs. Davidson’s voice through the door.

“No, Officer,” she was saying. “These kids wouldn’t lie! They wouldn’t say their friend had been kidnapped if he hadn’t been!”

Mrs. Davidson sure was sticking up for us!

I pushed open the kitchen door. Mrs. Davidson had her back to me.

“Why, Officer!” she exclaimed. “That’s a terrible thing to say. I assure you these kids are not making this up!”

I opened my mouth to say something to Mrs. Davidson.

Then I closed it.

I stared at Mrs. Davidson.

I tried to make sense of what I saw.

But I couldn’t.

“Yes, Officer,” Mrs. Davidson said. “You have my word.”

Mrs. Davidson was talking.

But she wasn’t on the phone.

The phone hung on the wall across the room from Mrs. Davidson.

It was an old phone.

Too old to be a speakerphone.

“Can you come and talk to these kids, Officer?” Mrs. Davidson asked. “Yes, right this minute. The sooner you get here, the sooner you can get to work on this case.”

But Mrs. Davidson wasn’t talking to the police.

She wasn’t talking to anyone!

22

I stood there, frozen.

I stared at Mrs. Davidson’s back as she pretended to talk to the police.

I stared at her beautiful apple-green blouse and her dark green slacks . . . and her green suede shoes . . . .

And gasped.

You play her game! She’ll make you pay!

All red and black must bow to green . . . .

For she alone is now our queen!

I backed silently out of the kitchen. I let the door close without a sound.

Then I turned and charged up to Max’s room. I shut the door behind me.

“Brittany!” Louisa cried. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

“I—I went into the kitchen,” I croaked. “Mrs. Davidson didn’t see me. She was talking—telling the police to come. But, Louisa—she wasn’t on the phone! She was only pretending to make the call!”

Now it was Louisa’s and Jeff’s turn to look scared.

“Max?” I said. “Does this make sense to you?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Max cried. “She’s crazy!”

“You mean you were talking about your mom?” I demanded.

“She’s not my mom,” Max whispered.

23

“What?” Jeff, Louisa, and I all cried.

“I’m not sick either,” Max went on. “I never had pneumonia. I’m her prisoner. She uses me to get players for her card games. She’s some kind of evil sorceress.”

“Does she have magical powers?” Louisa asked. Her voice trembled.

Max nodded. “Her magic depends on the jokers. The more jokers she has, the stronger her powers are.”

“I can’t believe this!” I cried. “Mrs. Davidson is so—so nice! She’s always smiling!” I put my hand to my head, trying to piece things together. “And Mrs. Marder! You’re telling us Mrs. Marder isn’t behind any of this. It’s Mrs. Davidson!”

Max nodded sadly.

Then I had a horrible thought. I gazed from Louisa to Jeff to Max. “Oh, no! Frankie! He must be part of her army of jokers now!”

“Yes, he is,” Max said. “It’s horrible. She tricks kids like you into playing cards. Then she makes sure one of you draws a joker. Once you draw a joker, the attacks begin. For every attack, the jokers mark you with a card suit. When you have all four suits, you turn into a joker too.”

I started shaking badly. I sat down on Max’s bed.

“Are the jokers all under her power?” I asked.

Max nodded. “They’re completely helpless. They have to do whatever she says.”

“How many kids has she trapped this way?” Jeff asked.

“Frankie makes thirteen,” Max said. “Shadyside is the fourth town we’ve moved to. She’ll try to get all of you into her army. Then we’ll move again. To another town nearby. And Mrs. Davidson—except that she’ll think up a new name—will go to another school. She’ll talk to the principal. She’ll ask if kids can come and visit her poor, sick son.”

“But, Max,” Jeff said, frowning, “there’s one thing I don’t get.”

“What’s that?” Max asked.

“How do you fit into this?”

For a moment, Max didn’t say anything.

Then he held out his left arm. He shoved up his pajama sleeve. There, above his wrist, were three marks: a club, a diamond, and a spade.

“See—I’m only one sign away from becoming a joker,” he said. “If I don’t help her, she’ll turn me into one. I’m sorry I didn’t help you. I didn’t know what to do.”

“We can still escape, can’t we?” I asked him. “We’re not jokers yet. If we get out of here—right now—we can call the police for real.”

“Brittany’s right,” Louisa whispered. “Let’s go—quick! Before she comes back!”

“Come on, Max,” Jeff said. “You’re coming with us.”

Max threw back his covers and climbed out of bed. The four of us ran for the door.

But we didn’t make it.

There in the doorway stood Mrs. Davidson.

As always, she was smiling. But now it was a crooked, wicked smile. In her hand she held a scepter with a hideous skull at the top.

“Going somewhere?” she asked.

She stepped into Max’s room.

We backed up.

“I don’t think so,” she answered herself.

“We—we have to get home,” Louisa whimpered.

“Sit down!” she snarled. “Nobody is going anywhere. It’s time to play my game!”

24

Mrs. Davidson shoved us toward the table.

My heart pounded like crazy.

I could hardly breathe.

We sat down at the table. Mrs. Davidson sat next to me—in the place where Frankie used to sit.

Max was right—we were doomed.

“You’re too nosy, Brittany,” Mrs. Davidson told me as she picked up the cards. “How dare you spy on me in my kitchen?”

My stomach tightened into a knot.

Mrs. Davidson shuffled the cards at lightning speed.

“Because of you, I have to hurry up my plans. How I’ll enjoy turning you into the most hideous joker in the whole deck!”

She cackled loudly. “Before I deal the cards, I have a surprise for you.”

The knot in my stomach grew tighter. What now?

Her evil green eyes flicked from Jeff to Louisa to me.

“Today I’ve put ten jokers in the deck! Yes! This will speed things up, kids! Let me see. Brittany—you need three jokers. Two for you, Louisa. And four for Jeff. And Max? All you need is one more!”

Mrs. Davidson threw back her head and shrieked with laughter. “By the end of the game,” she went on, “I’ll have four new jokers in my army! Hey, kids! Want to see what you’ll look like? Here, take a peek!”

Mrs. Davidson began pulling joker cards from the top of the deck. Jokers I hadn’t seen before.

One had rotted fangs.

One had green drool oozing from its lips.

But the worst one was a joker I had seen before. It was the one Max had dealt me the last time we played. The one with the yellow eyes.

Mrs. Davidson tapped that awful joker with a long fingernail. “Take a good look at this one, Brittany,” she snarled. “I had this face in mind for your new look!”

Mrs. Davidson plucked two cards out of the deck and pushed them to the middle of the table.

“Now there are fifty cards left in the deck,” she told us. “We’ll each get ten.”

She began shuffling again. “Ten jokers! My, this will be an exciting game, don’t you think? You know, I have a way with cards. A way to make sure you each get the perfect hand—just the right amount of jokers!”

She shuffled the cards some more. “Yes—I’ll make sure I deal the cards right—especially for you, my little Max!” She glared across the table at him. “My little traitor!”

Her expression grew fierce. “You think I don’t know what you told your friends? I know everything, Max dear! Everything!”

“There,” she said, placing the deck in front of me. “Cut the cards, Brittany.”

I reached for the cards. My hand shook so badly, I dropped half the deck on the floor.

“You stupid, clumsy girl!” Mrs. Davidson screeched.

Then she drew back her skull-scepter and swung it at me!

25

“Noooo!” I screamed as I dropped to the floor.

The skull-scepter grazed the top of my head.

I darted under the table. “Leave me alone!” I screamed.

“Get out from there. And pick up those cards!” Mrs. Davidson ordered. “NOW!”

I tried to pick them up. But they kept dropping out of my trembling hands.

“Hurry!” Mrs. Davidson kicked at me with her green shoe. “We haven’t got all day! After I get my four new jokers, we have to pack. We’re moving again, Max dear!”

Finally I crawled out from under the table.

I placed the deck in front of Mrs. Davidson. Then I cut the cards.

My heart pounded as I watched Mrs. Davidson start to deal.

I flinched with each card she slapped down in front of me.

Each card might be the awful joker! The joker that had my new, horrible face.

“Now, pick up your hands, kids!” Mrs. Davidson commanded.

My pulse thumped like a drum as I pushed my cards together. I gathered them into a stack. But I didn’t pick them up.

I glanced around the table.

My friends stared down at their cards in fear. No one picked up a hand.

Mrs. Davidson’s green eyes darted eagerly from player to player. Our fright brought a cheery smile to her face.

“Look at your cards!” Mrs. Davidson shouted.

Slowly, I picked up my hand.

Slowly, I turned it around—and let out a sigh.

The two of hearts.

Nine more cards to go.

With a shaky finger I pushed the two of hearts aside.

Six of clubs!

I glanced around at the other players. Jeff had half his fan open. He seemed okay. So he must not have found a joker yet.

Louisa was still staring at the first card in her hand. Across the table Max held his cards facedown in his pale, trembling hands. One joker—and he was doomed!

Mrs. Davidson hadn’t even straightened her pile. No, she was far too interested in how we’d scream and cry when we discovered our jokers.

I took a deep breath.

I held my thumb against the six of clubs.

My heart raced. I forced myself to push aside the six.

I saw a face!

I opened my mouth to scream!

I stared down at my hand.

The face belonged to a jack. The jack of diamonds.

“Ohhh,” I moaned with relief.

“Did you get a joker?” shrieked Mrs. Davidson. “Did you?”

“No,” I croaked.

“Me either,” Louisa whispered.

Jeff shook his head no.

Max only shrugged. He didn’t have the nerve to look at his cards.

I glanced back at my hand.

Three cards down.

Seven to go.

I didn’t know if I could stand it!

Quickly, I exposed my fourth card.

Eight of spades.

Whew!

“This is no fun!” Mrs. Davidson screamed. “You’re wasting time! Open your hands quickly! That’s good card manners! Do it! Look at all your cards right now!”

“You’re not looking at your cards!” I shouted at her. “You don’t have good card manners!”

“All right, Brittany!” Mrs. Davidson spat out my name.

She grabbed her cards with both hands. She shoved them together and picked them up.

“This is good card manners,” she said. “This is the way you open your hand—quickly, like this.”

She rapidly fanned her cards.

“What?” she shrieked. “No! This is impossible!”

“What?” Louisa cried.

Mrs. Davidson’s eyes grew wild. The veins in her neck bulged out. She screamed, “Noooooo!”

I shrank back in my chair.

Mrs. Davidson’s face turned red with fury. She glared at me with her crazed eyes. Then she stood up from the table—and threw her whole hand up in the air.

I watched with a dry mouth as her ten cards floated down.

A bead of sweat trickled down my cheek as they fluttered to the table.

I forced myself to look at them as they landed.

I gasped.

On the table lay ten hideous jokers.

26

No one moved. We all stared at the jokers.

The room turned silent—until the hissing started. Faint at first. Then growing louder—quickly.

And louder still—as a band of jokers burst through the door—screaming.

We jumped up from our chairs and huddled in a corner of the room. But that wasn’t really necessary.

The jokers were after only one card player.

Mrs. Davidson.

They circled around her, shaking their skulls.

“Get away!” Mrs. Davidson cried. “Obey me at once!”

But the jokers only laughed and screamed more loudly.

“Obey your queen!” she cried. “Stand back!”

A joker with a toothy grin swatted at her with the skull on his stick.

As the jokers danced around her, I tried to study each one’s face.

Which one was Frankie? I thought he might be the one with the twisted grin—the joker card he’d drawn. But there was nothing of Frankie in that awful face.

“Look, Brit,” Louisa whispered. “They’re picking her up!”

“Put me down, you idiots!” Mrs. Davidson cried as the jokers lifted her up over their heads. “I made you what you are!” she shrieked. “You are nothing without me. Nothing!”

Her words didn’t frighten the jokers at all. They shook their skulls and hooted with laughter as they carried their queen from the room.

And they were gone.

For a moment no one spoke.

Then all four of us cried out with relief.

We were safe! We weren’t going to turn into jokers!

“What amazing luck!” Jeff exclaimed as we let go of each other. “I can’t believe Mrs. Davidson got all ten jokers.”

“Well, luck had a little help,” I told him.

“What do you mean?” Jeff asked.

“When I dropped the cards, I stacked the deck,” I explained.

Louisa looked confused. “You did what?”

“Stacked the deck,” I repeated. “That’s when you put the cards in a special order. It’s an old card trick. I asked Jimmy to show me how to do it last night. But I was pretty scared. I wasn’t sure I got it right.”

“Wow,” Jeff said. “Nice work, Brittany.”

“Excellent!” Louisa agreed, slapping me a high-five.

“If it weren’t for you,” Max added, “I’d be a joker now.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, shivering. “I don’t know what’s happening with Mrs. Davidson and the jokers. But I don’t think we should stick around to find out.”

We ran out of Max’s room and down the stairs to the front door.

I reached out for the doorknob.

I twisted it. It turned easily in my hand.

But before I could pull the door open, a horrible hissing filled the room.

I turned.

The jokers! They were back!

They lunged at us. Circled us, cutting us off from the door.

They grinned their evil grins.

They rattled their hideous skull-sticks.

Then they closed in around us. The joker with the toothy grin stepped toward me.

“The—the game’s over!” I stammered.

But the joker didn’t care.

He kept coming toward me, rattling his skull-stick.

“Run!” Max cried.

We charged through the circle and ran back to Max’s room.

We slammed the door behind us.

“We made it!” Louisa exclaimed. “We got past the jokers!”

Jeff frowned. “It was too easy. They let us run back here.”

Jeff had a point.

Of course the jokers wanted us in this room. It had no outside door. There was no way out. We were trapped!

“What do we do now?” I croaked.

“We wait,” Max said.

“Wait?” I cried. “For what? For the jokers to show up?”

“Exactly.” Max calmly held a stack of cards in his hand. He ran his thumb over the edges.

“Ohhh!” I groaned.

Why had I trusted Max?

He played cards for Mrs. Davidson.

He helped her trap kids. Trap us!

And we had just let him trap us again!

27

Outside Max’s room I heard the hissing start.

Max glanced toward the door. I lunged for him.

I tried to grab the cards out of his hand.

“Stop, Brittany!” Max cried. He twisted away from me. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

I could hardly hear him over the horrible rattling skulls.

The jokers stormed into the room. I clapped my hands over my ears. Their crazed laughter was like thunder.

They laughed and laughed. And why not? They had us right where they wanted us.

“You!” Max called. He was talking to a joker. The joker with the toothy grin.

Max held the joker’s card up.

As the joker glanced at himself on the card, Max turned the card sideways and ripped it in half.

Instantly the joker’s skull-stick turned into mist—then vanished into thin air.

His face began to droop. Melt.

I turned to Max. “Wh-what’s going on?” I stammered.

Max didn’t answer. His eyes remained glued to the joker.

I turned back—and gasped.

The joker’s face wasn’t melting. It was—changing. Changing into the face of a boy.

His nose, his cheeks, his chin, all began to take on a new form. He was beginning to look like a regular boy.

I watched in awe as his horrible red eyes turned a normal shade of blue. As his teeth shrank to a regular size.

Suddenly the rattling of skulls filled the room.

The other jokers!

I had forgotten about them!

They shrieked loudly—and charged at us.

“Max—quick! The other jokers!” I shouted.

Max shoved some joker cards in my hand. Louisa and Jeff grabbed some too.

“Make sure they’re looking at the card when you rip it!” Max cried.

We ripped our cards—and all the jokers turned back into kids. All but one.

I held the last joker card in my hand.

Frankie’s joker card.

I held it up.

The joker that was Frankie darted around the room—shrieking madly.

“Hey, Frankie,” I shouted. “Look!”

The joker turned my way.

I held up the card—and ripped it in half.

The joker’s face began to change.

In moments Frankie was back.

*  *  *

All the kids who had been jokers thanked us for helping them. They called their parents, and we waited for them to arrive to take them home.

Finally a couple with blond hair and pale blue eyes hurried up Mrs. Davidson’s walk. Max zoomed out of the house. I think the three of them broke the record for the world’s longest hug.

“Thanks, Brittany,” Max said before he left. “You sure know how to stack a deck.”

“Thank you, Max,” I told him. “You sure know how to play your cards right!”

28

The next night Frankie called me. I stretched across my bed talking to him.

“You know what, Brit?” Frankie asked. “Jeff and I went over to Mrs. Marder’s after school today. Jeff had to deliver some groceries.” He coughed, sounding embarrassed. “I thought maybe I should apologize to her. You know. For the birdbath and stuff.”

“You’re kidding!” I exclaimed.

“Nope. Anyhow,” Frankie hurried on, “Jeff asked her about her telescope. Know what? Before they retired, she and her husband both worked as astronomers! There’s a cluster of stars somewhere about a billion miles away that’s named after them. It’s called the Marder Formation!”

“Really?” I said. “But wait a second. Why was her telescope aimed at Max’s window?”

“You saw how her cats jumped up on everything,” Frankie reminded me. “They must have knocked it out of line. And did you know she rescued all those cats?” he went on. “None of them had homes. They would have been put to sleep if she hadn’t adopted them. She goes out at night sometimes, looking for strays.”

That must have been what she was doing in the woods outside Louisa’s house! I groaned. “Now I feel terrible for believing those awful stories about her,” I said.

There was a loud knock at my door.

“It’s me!” Jimmy called. “I’ve got a great card trick to show you, Brit!”

“Did you hear that?” I asked Frankie. “Well, Jimmy did show me how to stack a deck. So I guess I owe it to him to let him show me his latest card trick.”

Frankie laughed. “Have fun, Brit!”

We hung up. “Come in!” I called to Jimmy. I patted the place next to me on my bed. I was in a great mood that night. If Jimmy had ten new card tricks, I promised myself, I’d watch them all.

“Okay,” Jimmy said, plopping down on my bed. “Pick a card! Any card!”

He fanned a deck for me.

I slid a card out of the middle. “Should I look at it?” I asked him.

“Definitely,” Jimmy said.

I turned the card over.

I stared at it. My mouth suddenly went dry.

I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing.

It was a joker!

The most awful joker I’d ever seen!

It had bulging green eyes.

And a piggish, turned-up nose.

And wild, wiry hair.

Its big, evil smile spread from ear to ear. A smile formed by red, lipsticked lips.

It was Mrs. Davidson!

A golden crown rested on her hideous head.

Mrs. Davidson—the Queen of the Jokers.

I watched in horror as the queen opened her wide red mouth and let out a horrible scream.

My mouth opened too.

And I screamed and screamed.

Are you ready for another walk down Fear Street?

Turn the page for a terrifying sneak preview.

My eyes popped open the next morning. A pair of eyes stared back at me.

Fish eyes.

I sat straight up in bed. I glanced around the room.

Of course. My first full day at Club Lagoona.

I gazed at the fish painted on the walls. The bedspread covered with seashells. The fishing net hanging from the ceiling. Even my pillow was shaped like a clam.

I shook my head. “There’s definitely something fishy about this room,” I joked.

I crack myself up.

“So, you’re finally awake,” Polly called from the bathroom we shared. “Mom and Dad will be here any minute. We’re heading over to the Atlantis pool together.”

I flopped back down on the bed. The Atlantis pool. The Swim or Sink trial with Barry. It was this morning!

I had to find a way out of this. And it was going to take some pretty fast thinking!

Polly bounced into my room. She wore a bright black and purple bathing suit. “Mom unpacked your stuff,” she informed me. “Your new bathing suit is in the top drawer. And hurry up!” She yanked the covers off me.

“Okay. Okay,” I grumbled. I stumbled over to the dresser and yanked open the top drawer.

Oh man. I reached in and pulled out the most hideous bathing suit I had ever seen.

I twirled the suit between my fingers. Green volcanoes spewed bright orange lava. In between the volcanoes were awful purple and red flowers.

Well, at least I would never have to wear the terrible thing. Since there was no way I was getting into the pool! I buried the suit under a pile of T-shirts.

No bathing suit, no Swim or Sink.

Dad knocked and popped his head into the room. “You kids ready?” he asked. He stepped inside. Mom followed behind him.

“It’s time to Get Wet!” they cheered together.

I cringed. I had to get out of this. I couldn’t let them discover my secret—that I couldn’t swim.

“I can’t find my bathing suit,” I said.

“No problem, Tad,” Mom reassured me. “We just stopped at the Wet Set Boutique and I couldn’t resist these.”

She handed me what had to be the ugliest pair of swimming trunks I’d ever seen. Even worse than the volcano suit I had shoved into the back of the dresser.

Hmmmmm. Time for Plan B. If I could think of a Plan B.

“My stomach hurts!” I blurted. “Must have been something I ate.”

Polly snorted. “You haven’t eaten yet,” she reminded me.

“You’re just hungry,” Mom reasoned.

“So quit fooling around and let’s go!” Dad said.

I had no choice. It was Swim or Sink time.

And I knew which I was going to do!

On our way to the Atlantis pool, I spied that weird guy with the bucket again. As I passed him, he paused and picked up a piece of litter.

“Watch out for the deep end,” he muttered. Then he scurried away.

What does that mean? What am I supposed to be watching for? I wondered. If he was playing some kind of game, it wasn’t funny!

But I couldn’t think about him. I had bigger problems on my mind. In a few minutes, the fact that I couldn’t swim would be out in the open. My mom, my dad, and my obnoxious sister were going to witness my humiliating plunge to the bottom of the pool.

But then something great happened! The lifeguards divided us into four groups: men, women, boys, and girls. My family would be down at the other end of the pool! I was so relieved I almost kissed Polly.

Almost.

“See you, Squirt!” I told her cheerfully. I jogged over to join my group.

Barry was our instructor. He blew a whistle and all the kids in my group jumped into the pool. Even me.

Ugh! I hate getting wet.

I clung to the side of the pool. I watched as the others splashed away from me. I figured I would do my usual trick of walking on the bottom and stroking my arms as if I were swimming. It always worked before!

But not this time! As soon as I let go of the side of the pool, I realized we weren’t in the shallow end! I frantically stretched my legs, trying to touch bottom. It was no good. I was in way over my head.

I thrashed my feet. I doggie-paddled. It was awful. Everyone was ahead of me and I kept swallowing the water they were kicking up.

Then I realized I wasn’t alone. There were two other guys doing the doggie paddle too. We were the last in the group to make it to the other side.

“You three,” Barry called. “You’re in the Guppy class.”

Oh, well. At least we didn’t sink.

*  *  *

The next day I sat between the two other Guppies. One of the guys was tall, even taller than me. The other kid was kind of chubby. He had on trunks exactly like mine. I guess his mom hit the gift shop too.

I smiled at them. “I’m Tad,” I said.

The tall kid grinned. “Let me guess. They call you Tadpole.”

I nodded. “Yeah. That’s my stupid Club Lagoona name. What’s yours?”

“Even worse.” He lowered his voice. “My name’s Neal. So they call me Eel.”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I’ll stick to Neal.” I turned to the chubby kid. “How about you?”

“Mark,” he replied.

“Shark!” Neal and I guessed together.

“You got it,” Mark-the-Shark admitted. He sighed. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“Me too,” I agreed. “Hey, has a weird little guy with a bucket—”

But before I could finish Barry shouted, “Okay, Guppies, Let’s Get Wet!”

Neal, Mark, and I glanced nervously at each other. Then we slowly slid into the pool.

Very slowly.

Barry started by having us stick our faces in the water. “Get used to getting wet!” he explained.

The next step was to open our eyes underwater.

“Okay, Tadpole, your turn.” Barry stood in front of me. “When I say so, go underwater. Then open your eyes and count how many fingers I’m holding out. Got that?”

I nodded.

“Go!” Barry commanded.

I ducked underwater and opened my eyes. I blinked a few times. The chlorine burned, but after a moment I got used to it. Barry’s hand came down. He held out three fingers.

I was about to push back up when something behind Barry caught my attention. Something moving. Something green.

I peered past Barry’s hand. The water made everything a little blurry.

Whatever it was had vanished.

I was running out of air. I surfaced, gasping for breath.

“How many fingers, Tadpole?” Barry asked.

“Three,” I replied. I scanned the pool. What was that green thing? And where had it gone?

Neal and Mark each took his turn counting fingers. I watched their expressions as they came up. Neither one seemed to have noticed anything unusual underwater.

Had I imagined the green thing?

Next, Barry stood in the center of the pool. We had to push off from the side and swim underwater to him.

“If I start to drown, you’ll save me, won’t you?” I murmured to Neal and Mark. I was only half-kidding.

“If you don’t have to save me first!” Neal joked back.

“Go!” Barry cried.

I took a deep breath and went under. I pushed my feet against the side of the pool. The force propelled me forward.

I glanced over to see how my fellow Guppies were doing. Mark’s arms were flailing all over the place, but he was clipping through the water.

Neal’s face twisted with effort. But he cruised along, too.

Then I saw it again. Something green.

Something that looked like a long, green tentacle.

And it was reaching for Neal!

I broke through the surface of the water. I shook my head, spraying water everywhere.

“What’s the matter, Tadpole?” Barry called. “Did you run out of air?”

“No! I—I—” My eyes darted around the pool. What creature could be so huge that it had a tentacle that long?

But if it belonged to a gigantic sea monster, I reasoned, we would all see it.

Wouldn’t we?

Neal and Mark stood beside Barry. None of them seemed worried. None of them had seen what I had seen. Which made me wonder if I had really seen it.

Forget it, I told myself. I spent the rest of the lesson actually having fun. Neal and Mark were cool guys. Even Barry wasn’t so bad, once you got used to him.

“Okay,” Barry announced. “That’s it for today.”

As I climbed out of the water, Barry gave me a hand up. Then, a lifeguard rushed over to tell Barry he had a phone call.

“See you tomorrow!” Barry called as he dashed off.

I rubbed my head with my towel. I was feeling pretty good. Maybe Club Lagoona wasn’t as horrible as I thought.

“That wasn’t so terrible,” Neal declared.

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “I think I’ll even come to the next lesson. Adios, fellow Guppies.” He slung the towel around his neck and jogged away.

I said goodbye to Neal and headed back toward my room. I felt a little silly about imagining a green tentacled monster in the pool. Maybe I had been reading too many horror stories about the sea. My mom says I have a vivid imagination.

I smiled. I made it through a swimming lesson! Maybe I was beginning to like this place.

That’s when I spotted my sister. She ran toward me.

Her eyes were enormous!

She was wet and shaking!

She was jumping up and down!

“The creature!” she blurted. “Have you seen the creature?”

About R. L. Stine

R. L. Stine, the creator of Ghosts of Fear
Street, has written almost 100 scary novels for kids. The Ghosts of Fear Street series, like the Fear Street series, takes place in Shadyside and centers on the scary events that happen to people on Fear Street.

When he isn’t writing, R. L. Stine likes to play pinball on his very own pinball machine, and explore New York City with his wife, Jane, and son, Matt.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Aladdin

An Imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

Copyright © 1997 by Parachute Press, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230
Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN 0-671-00192-2
ISBN 978-1-4424-8837-3 (eBook)

Aladdin and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon &
Schuster Inc.