“Thank you, Mr. Jennings,” he said.
“I think you all look absolutely adorable!” gushed Aunt Ginny.
Zack, Azalea, and Malik arched their eyebrows.
“Adorable?” said Zack. “Aunt Ginny, we’re splattered with blood. We’re carrying bloody weapons.”
“I even have blood on both my antennae,” added Azalea.
“Oh, you know what, Azalea?” The seventy-seven-year-old clapped her hands together like a giddy first grader. “You should splash some blood on your turban, too. It’d look cute!”
“Um,” said Zack, “cute isn’t exactly what we were going for here, Aunt Ginny.”
“After all,” said Azalea, “this is Halloween. It’s supposed to be the scariest night of the year.”
“Oh, of course, dear,” said Aunt Ginny. “My bad, as they say. Kindly allow me to rephrase my remarks: You three look absolutely horrible! In fact, you look hideous. Better?”
“Much,” said Azalea with a laugh.
Judy came out to the porch with the digital camera and a bowl of miniature candy bars. Zipper was right behind her. The three “Bs” knelt down around Zip and posed for a few quick pictures. They also helped Judy hand out candy to the first pack of little kids (two Disney princesses, one Batman, and an alien) to troop up the steps while their parents stood smiling proudly down on the lawn.
“Guess we better hit Main Street,” said Zack’s dad. “The festivities are just about to start.”
“The event officially starts at five,” said Azalea. “There’s a costume contest at six-thirty, doughnuts and cider at seven. I memorized the poster.”
Of course she had.
“You guys all set?” asked Zack’s dad.
“Sí, Senor Jennings,” said Malik, only he pronounced it “Hennings,” the same way “Jose” is pronounced “Hose-ay.”
They trundled down the porch steps and headed for the van. Zack’s dad and Aunt Ginny rode up front. Malik, Azalea, and Zack worked their way into the rear, careful not to crush or bend their stiff costumes. Zipper hopped in after them.
“Seat belts buckled?” asked Zack’s dad.
“Yes,” said Malik. “My motto is ‘Bee prepared!’ Hey, do you know what my favorite bee-movie is? The Sting!”
When Malik said that, even sweet Aunt Ginny groaned.
Main Street was packed.
Zack saw vampires and zombies; a headless football player carrying a chainsaw; a cheerleader with an axe in her back; skeletons and ninjas; pirates, witches, and Tinker Bells; and one kid who had stuck two round pumpkins in the seat of his droopy jeans so he looked like he was mooning the world with a bright-orange plumber’s butt.
“This is awesome,” said Malik as they pulled into a parking spot in front of a funky little health food store called the Hedge Pig Emporium. Zack and Judy had gone in there once. They sold junk like wheatgrass drinks, vitamin pills, and sugarless, wheat-free, eco-friendly, vegan carob chip brownies that tasted like baked dirt.
“Did I mention there’s a one-hundred-dollar prize for best costume?” said Azalea. “So when we win it, we split it, deal?”
“Deal,” said Zack.
“Where’s the contest being held?” asked Malik.
“At the base of the clock tower,” said Azalea, gesturing up Main Street to the intersection where the town clock, a massive stone tower, stood. The wealthy Spratling family had erected the six-story fieldstone monument because they’d run a clock company. The clock up top, however, was busted. Its scrolled iron hands stood frozen at 9:52.
“I suggest we hit the candy shop first,” said Malik.
“I like the way you think,” said Azalea. “Hit ’em early before they’re totally cleaned out.”
“Exactly.”
“Um, do you guys need to come with us?” Zack asked his dad and Aunt Ginny, who were still sitting in the van.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Aunt Ginny. “None of these ghouls look all that … authentic.”
“Yeah,” said Zack.
“Why don’t you guys work your way up the block?” suggested his dad. “We’ll—you know—hang back.”
“Cool.”
“But if you see something …”
“I’ll say something.”
His dad gave him a loving smile. “Works for me.”
“Come on, you guys.” Zack led the charge up the sidewalk.
The owners of Main Street Sweets & Treats were giving everybody who walked through their door in costume a white bag filled with a half pound of their Halloween specialties: orange-and-yellow candy corn, those little orange pumpkins with the stubby green stems that taste just like candy corn, and Indian corn candy corn, which tasted like regular candy corn mixed with waxy chocolate. One girl who came into the store was dressed like a piece of candy corn. She got two little white bags.
After Main Street Sweets & Treats, the killer “Bs” and bumblebee Zipper (who was allowed into all the stores except the ones that sold meat) headed up the sidewalk toward Ickes & Son Hardware.
“Last year, the Ickeses gave out Almond Joys and Snickers, I heard,” said Malik. “We might want to skip the dentist’s office, however.”
“How come?” asked Zack.
“Last year, he gave out floss.”
“Was it at least spearmint-flavored floss?” asked Azalea.
Malik shook his head. “Plain. Unwaxed.”
“Lame,” said Azalea.
“Totally,” said Zack.
A Frankenstein and a Star Wars Stormtrooper brushed past them, followed by three kids in bedsheets.
“Killer bees!” shouted one of the bedsheets. “Awesome!”
“Thank you,” said Malik, pleased to have his wacky idea appreciated by a total stranger.
“So, Zack,” said Azalea, “were those real ghosts?”
Zack laughed. “Uh, no, Azalea. That was Sammie Smith. From history class?”
“Wow. You have X-ray vision, too?”
“Nope. I recognized her voice.”
“So what do ghosts wear on Halloween?” asked Malik, sounding genuinely interested.
“Well,” said Zack, “most of the ones I’ve met are usually wearing what they wore when they were alive. That’s one way you can tell they’re, you know, not from here or now. They look old-fashioned. Like the people you see in movies.”
The Ickes & Son Hardware store windows were illuminated by an impressive display of a dozen or more carved jack-o’-lanterns. Instead of candles, the hollowed-out pumpkins were lit up by low-wattage bulbs that flashed on and off in a random sequence.
“Pretty cool,” said Zack.
“Yeah,” said Malik. “I bet my buddy Norman rigged it up. Oh!” He reached into his Halloween sack and pulled out the black heart puzzle. “You’re sure it’s okay that I let Norman borrow this?”
“Yep. I don’t think Aunt Ginny wants to play with it tonight.”
“Come on, you guys,” said Azalea. “There’s loot to be had. Let’s go inside and score a few Snickers bars!”
Barnabas wanted one of the Ickleby ghosts to venture out of the Haddam Hill Cemetery and go into North Chester to scout it out, since none of the thirteen souls were familiar with the town.
“We need a spy,” he said. “To locate the Jennings boy. He will be the one to pay for what the three women did to us!”
Eddie quickly volunteered.
“I can scope things out better than anybody else,” he argued. “The last man into the tomb should be the first ghost out, because, unlike the rest of you freaky-deakies, I’m hip to the modern lingo, dig?”
“You make an excellent point, Edward,” said Barnabas. “Return by midnight.”
So Eddie Boy’s soul drifted down the highway toward town. He tried hitching a ride, but nobody could see him.
“At night, you can will yourself to become visible to whomever you choose, even those who are not ghost seers,” Barnabas had told Eddie before he set out.