Misty had never seen a storm gather so quickly. Within minutes, the skies had gone from a calm blue to a stormy gray.
"Look at the size of that cloud!" said Mr. Gordon, pointing out the window of the truck. "I'm afraid we're going to be driving right into it."
Misty looked. It was an eerie, dark green thundercloud, billowing menacingly over their neighborhood. Little threads of lightning streaked within it, illuminating its insides like a hazy fishbowl.
They pulled in front of their house just when the first drops of rain began to fall. James and his best friend, Hector Figg, were on the front lawn, doing kung fu in weird black helmets.
"What are you boys doing out in this kind of weather?" Mr. Gordon bellowed as he spilled out of the truck. "You could get struck by lightning, you know!"
"Not while we're wearing our anti-lightning helmets," said Hector, rapping on the one atop his head. "They protect the skull up to a billion volts of electricity! They're my dad's invention."
"I see," said Mr. Gordon, impressed.
Hector's dad, Dr. Figg, was a mad scientist of sorts who, besides being a brilliant inventor, was in charge of the construction of Ashcrumb's new, high-tech lighthouse.
"So, was I right?" said James to his dad. "Did you find a lot of creepy stuff today?"
"Why creepy?" asked Hector, peeking into the truck. "Where did you go?"
"We went to Madame Zaster's house," replied Misty.
Just then, a bright green streak of lightning bolted from the sky, followed by an earsplitting thunderclap.
"Boys," said Mr. Gordon, opening the back of the truck. "Give me a hand with Madame Zaster's vanity. I want to get it inside before the storm hits."
The boys groaned.
"Don't worry," said Mr. Gordon. "It's the only piece of furniture we're unloading. I'm taking the rest of the stuff to the Dearly Departed."
They'd just moved the vanity into Misty's room when another thunderclap boomed. The rain began falling in sheets. It was a terrible storm, with blinding lightning and a howling wind that seemed bent on blowing the house down. Misty sat on the couch and stared out the window at the raging tempest.
This was the type of weather, Misty mused, that tossed ships at sea, sending them crashing onto the shore. The powerful lightning that was streaking outside was probably the same sort of wicked jolts that had struck the mast of the Royal Ashcrumb, sending the legendary vessel blazing and sinking to its watery grave in the town's bay.
A loud crack of thunder shook Misty from her thoughts. She put her hand in her bag and felt the thick paper of the photograph. She pulled it out and gazed at the dim image of Madame Zaster. Studying the woman's curling mouth and dark eyes, Misty knew without a doubt that she had met Madame Zaster's ghost. But why had she appeared to Misty?
It was still raining the next morning when Yoshi, who lived across the street, met Misty outside for their walk to school. Standing under a giant green umbrella, Yoshi looked even smaller than usual. Her long black hair was swirling in the wind as she clutched the handle of the umbrella.
"Should we wait for James?" asked Yoshi as Misty darted under the huge green dome.
"He already ran to school with Hector," said Misty.
A gust of wind blew at their backs as they started their wet walk, huddling like two ants carrying a leaf.
"I didn't think you and your family were getting back from your trip until tomorrow," said Misty.
"We had to cut our trip short," said Yoshi. "Dad had to get back to the asylum. There was an emergency."
"What do you mean?" said Misty.
"Well, I really shouldn't say," said Yoshi. "You know how I'm not supposed to talk about what goes on in the asylum. It's confidential."
"Tell me!" cried Misty. "I promise I won't say anything to anybody! Besides, I've got a secret to tell you, too. You go first."
"Okay," blurted Yoshi. "Here's the deal. There's this new patient at the asylum called May Nays. He's a major lunatic. He will do anything to get his hands on mayonnaise. I mean, he'll kill for the stuff. Literally."
"He'll kill for mayonnaise?" snickered Misty. "Are you kidding?"
"No, I'm not kidding," said Yoshi. "Anyway, you know how werewolves go on a rampage during a full moon? Well, that's kinda how it is with May Nays. Except it isn't a full moon that makes May Nays crazy, it's stormy weather. And last night, when the storm hit, May Nays went berserk and busted out of his room. Thankfully, he didn't get far. They found him in the asylum's kitchen pantry, gorging himself on mayonnaise."
"That is completely twisted," said Misty.
"Tell me about it," agreed Yoshi. "So, now it's your turn. Tell me your secret."
There was so much that Misty wanted to tell Yoshi that she didn't know where to begin.
For a few seconds, Misty said nothing and just scurried along with her head down, watching autumn leaves float past on the flooded path while she thought of what to say.
Suddenly, they were met with the piercing screech of a whistle.
It was Margie Medford, the school's crossing guard. She was a large, horsey woman with bushy brows and a booming voice. She was also a menacing bully who loved to push kids around when parents and teachers weren't watching.
"Move it, move it, move it!" Medford shouted, waving Misty and Yoshi across the street. A small boy running with an armload of books slipped and fell down. Medford banged him on the head with her STOP sign. "Get up, Jimmy Winn, you little slowpoke!" she yelled, yanking him up by his ear and dragging him the rest of the way. She gave Misty and Yoshi a dark look as the girls dashed into the safety of the school's entrance.
Though, truth be told, Ashcrumb Elementary looked anything but safe. It looked downright scary. Originally built by King Charles I of England in 1633-when the town was a royal colony-Ashcrumb Elementary happened to be a real castle. It was gigantic, several stories tall, with vine-covered turrets stretching into the sky. A stone wall enclosed the castle's sprawling grounds that were filled with towering elm and maple trees, all of which had a nasty habit of scratching their limbs against the milky windowpanes of the school during class. In the far corners of the grounds stood little slate-roofed buildings. Once used for housing horses and carriages, the buildings now sheltered the teachers' cars.
The castle had everything a castle would have, except for a moat. Which was a bit of a shame, Misty always thought, because Margie Medford, who was quite the troll, would surely have relished hiding under a drawbridge.
At the moment, the crossing guard was stomping through a puddle to her next victims, a frightened group of first graders.
"I can't stand Medford," said Yoshi, collapsing her umbrella and shaking the raindrops from it. "My dad says she has issues with power and anger."
"What does that mean?" asked Misty.
"It means that she likes to terrorize small things because it makes her feel bigger," explained Yoshi.
"Oh," said Misty. "I guess your dad would know."
Yoshi's father, Dr. Yamamoto, was an expert at figuring people out. That's why he ran Ashcrumb's insane asylum. Yoshi had inherited her father's knack for understanding people. Not only was Yoshi the smartest person in the class, she was the most feared. Nobody dared mess with a girl whose father could lock you up and throw away the key.
Misty, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. She was smart, but she daydreamed a lot, gazing out the window instead of minding the chalkboard. Sometimes when teachers called on Misty, she didn't reply. It wasn't because she didn't know the answer, it was simply because her mind was a thousand miles away. While the other kids at school didn't bother Yoshi, they thrived on making Misty miserable. Her secondhand clothes, lopsided glasses, and family's odd business-not to mention the ice-cream truck-made her the target of endless jokes.
There was one girl in particular who loved to torture Misty. Her name was Alexis Lenox, a snobby, spoiled redhead. Not a day passed that Alexis didn't say something cruel to Misty.
Walking into the school, Misty winced to see Alexis and her crowd approaching.
"Nice coat," Alexis smirked, tugging on Misty's shabby trench coat. "I think I just saw some moths fly out of it!" Then Alexis gave a taunting pull on Misty's bag and sneered. "And just what is with this relic? Are you delivering mail for the Pony Express these days?"
Alexis let out a peal of laughter, and she and her friends sauntered off.
Misty's face reddened as she felt the familiar sting of embarrassment.
"Forget her," said Yoshi. "Alexis Lenox has issues with superiority. Anyway, what's your secret?"
Just then, over the intercom system came the voice of the school's principal, Mr. Ableman. "ALL STUDENTS REPORT TO TOWN FATHERS HALL FOR ASSEMBLY."
"I'll tell you after school," said Misty, completely deflated.
Town Fathers Hall was a cavernous, drafty chamber, with narrow and murky windows reaching to its vaulted ceiling.
Standing on the hall's dim stage, watching the students file into the building, were Principal Ableman and Vice Principal Barrel. While the short, bald Mr. Ableman tested the microphone, the tall, beady-eyed Mr. Barrel tilted his head back, as if watching the children through his nostrils. Plagued with bad nerves, Mr. Barrel had a twitchy eye. And in his back pocket he always kept a small paddle.
"Okay, okay, okay," said Mr. Ableman to the assemblage. "Everybody get to your seats."
"To your seats, to your seats," said Mr. Barrel.
Misty sat with the rest of her class, taking a seat next to the window. From her spot, she could see out onto the playground, where the Royal Ashcrumb's original figurehead-a large, creepy-looking bronze mermaid that had decorated the prow of the ship-lay, her tail half buried in the earth. The mermaid was the favorite piece of playground equipment among the first graders, but they wouldn't slide down her slimy scales today. Outdoor recess, Misty guessed, was out of the question with this kind of weather, especially now that another dark cloud was moving toward the school.
"Good morning," Mr. Ableman said into the microphone. "As you all know, Halloween is this weekend."
Some students clapped and cheered.
Mr. Barrel yanked out his paddle the way a cowboy would flash a six-shooter and waved it at the audience. The crowd went quiet. He jammed it back into this pocket.
"Trick-or-treating is a lot of fun," continued Mr. Ableman. "But you have to be careful! Mr. Barrel is going to give you some tips on how to be safe this Halloween."
Mr. Barrel threw his hands open wide and declared at the top of his lungs, "RAZOR BLADES IN APPLES! NAILS IN CHOCOLATE! LUMPS OF POISON!" He trotted to the side of the stage and pointed at a section of second graders. "That's right! There are weirdos who work around the clock, all year long, devising clever ways to disguise killer candy!"
Having achieved everyone's undivided attention, Mr. Barrel strolled back to the center of the stage, thunder rolling ominously.
As he began to read a list of trick-or-treating dos and don'ts, Misty glanced back at the playground. She scanned the stormy scenery, watching the seats of the swing sets pitch to and fro, the rain pelt the seesaws, and leaves scatter across the grass.
"DO NOT eat candy if the wrapper has been tampered with!" warned Mr. Barrel.
Misty squinted through the downpour. What was that lone figure standing beneath the trees? Dark and hunched, it hovered above the ground, moving slightly in the wind. As Misty watched it draw closer, she got the sinking feeling that it was watching her, too.
"DO NOT eat anything that smells or tastes like battery acid!" Mr. Barrel declared.
Trying to get a better view of the mysterious form on the playground, Misty leaned forward in her seat.
In an instant, the thing sprang up, just outside the window.
Misty screamed, but not as loudly as Mr. Barrel.
"WHAT IS THAT?" the vice principal shouted, clutching his chest.
Shrieks filled the room as the entire assembly spied the creature leaning against the windowpane, its long hair bristling in the wind and rain. They jumped to their feet, craning to see it better.
"It's hairy!"
"It's floating!"
"It ain't got a head!"
"It doesn't have a head," a teacher corrected. "And it doesn't have any feet, either!"
Mr. Ableman thumped the microphone in an attempt to get the frantic group's attention. "Calm down!" he blared. "Back to your seats. Now!"
The group reluctantly followed his orders, whispering hysterically as they fumbled for their chairs. Returning to her seat, Misty knew there was something about the figure that seemed familiar.
"I'm going to see what this is all about," said Mr. Ableman.
"B-b-be careful," warned Mr. Barrel, his eyes glued upon the creature.
Mr. Ableman marched to the side door, flung it open, and ventured outside. Everyone watched in nervous silence as the principal approached the mysterious figure. By the way his head bobbed, one could tell Mr. Ableman was shouting, though nothing could be heard over the steady downpour of rain.
"It's leaving!" someone cried as the dark form backed away from the window and hurried off.
Mr. Ableman, knowing all eyes were on him, shook his fist one more time and headed back into the building.
"Show's over!" he announced as he sloshed indoors, completely drenched.
"What was it?" said Mr. Barrel.
"Um-well, uh," stammered Mr. Ableman. "Er-it appears to be just some matty old dog."
While the older students groaned, saddened that the drama had ended, the younger ones sighed in relief and emerged from their hiding places. A few first graders remained under tables, sobbing and shaking, some even sucking their thumbs while teachers tried to coax them out.
"In conclusion, there is much to fear about Halloween," said Mr. Ableman. "Assembly dismissed. Back to your classes."
The rest of the school day was blown. No one believed the dog explanation, and everyone was so alarmed about the "playground beast" that nobody could concentrate. Even the teachers couldn't quit looking out the window. By the time the bell rang signaling everybody to go home, nobody had the guts. What if the hairy thing was waiting for them?
Margie Medford offered little comfort for the students as they faced their journeys home. "RUN!" she yelled. "Run home as fast as you can!"
Like racehorses out of the starting gate, the children exploded onto the street, dashing down the sidewalk, their eyes as big as pies. Misty and Yoshi were among them, bumbling along with their huge umbrella.
"Just a little farther," Yoshi told Misty. "Then we'll be home."
Misty stopped in her tracks. That's it! Suddenly, she realized where she had seen the hairy, armless, footless, and headless form before.
"Fannie Belcher's coat!" she gasped.
"What?" said Yoshi. "What are you talking about?"
"I think it's time I told you my secret," said Misty.
