A Babysitter's Guide to Monster Hunting 2

by Joe Ballarini

  Curtis cackled and slapped Victor on the back. “Good man! Have another, bro!”

  Cassie giggled. Berna nudged me: This guy’s okay. Victor took another bite of rodent bark and winked at me. My cheeks went warm. I looked back to the microscope and tried to focus.

  “We can’t know for sure if the monster is hiding at a mansion,” I said. “It might have just been walking by and grazed the side or something.”

  Berna popped her gum. “The placement of the marble fragment on the hair was closer to the root. Not the end. Which means our furry friend is spending enough time at this palacio to get those fragments deep within its fur.”

  “So you think a yeti is living in a mansion?” said Victor.

  “First off, yeti are snowbound creatures,” said Curtis in a superserious tone. “And Squatches are primarily in the Pacific Northwest. It could be a Lurker, but they travel in packs.”

  “Squatch?” Victor said.

  “Short for Shashquatch. Doy!” Cassie said.

  Victor nodded. I could see he was a little freaked out.

  “What about the Sleeknatch slime?” I said. “Anything on it?”

  Berna handed me the vial of the spying meatball monster’s yellowy slime we had collected.

  “I’ll let you do the honors.”

  I dripped a spot on a glass slide and peered at it under the microscope. All sorts of bits floated in the murky pool of goo. Among them were flecks of the same marble rock Berna had found on the beast’s hair.

  “I think they’re roommates,” I said.

  Berna looked into the microscope.

  “Ladies and germs, we have a match,” Berna said.

  The bell rang. We cleaned up our slime and hair samples and walked out of the back room.

  Cassie took out her phone. “I’ll run a shearch on all the manshionsh in the area built with Tuhshcan marb—AAAWK!”

  Cassie’s feet shot out from under her, and she hit the linoleum. Hard.

  “Have a nice trip?” Curtis giggled. “See you next fall!”

  “It’sh not funny, Curtish!” shrieked Cassie, clutching her elbow in pain. Victor quickly scooped up Cassie. Curtis offered his hand to help her, but then he slipped and smashed into the floor.

  I saw what they had slipped on. A pool of murky yellow slime wound across the floor. With growing panic, I followed the slick goo trail under the tables to the back of the classroom, where it vanished down the drainpipe under the emergency shower.

  The Sleeknatch had been here, watching our every move.

  15

  I ran down the hall, pulling the straps on my book bag tight. Berna, Cassie, Curtis, and Victor ran to keep up with me.

  “No running in the halls!” yelled Vice Principal Flowers. “Ready, set, slow!”

  We stopped running and briskly walked together.

  “You guys,” I said. “That thing’s here for me. I’m not going to sit back and wait for it to attack me. I’m going to find and stop it before . . .”

  The words caught in my throat. My attempt at sounding brave screeched to a halt.

  “Before it hurts anyone,” I said quietly.

  “Should we ditch school?” Curtis said hopefully.

  “No way!” I said. “I already got an F on an English assignment today. And that’ll bring my grade down to a B minus. If I skip a class, I fail that class, and I need to get all As if I want to get a scholarship to a good college.”

  “College?” said Victor. “We’re in middle school.”

  “I like to plan ahead,” I said.

  “Girl’s got priorities,” Berna said.

  Cassie gasped, her lower lip dripping saliva as she stared at her phone. “You guysh! I found five manshionsh that were built with the shame shtone we found. Closhest one ish at Fifty-Five Bellevue Court.”

  “We’ll run the GSC play,” Berna said, flipping through her guide.

  “GSC?” I asked.

  “Girl Scout cookies. Basically, we pretend to be Girl Scouts selling cookies,” Berna said. “That way no one suspects us of snooping around while Curtis flies his drone and takes pictures.”

  “Got the uniformsh and everything,” Cassie added proudly.

  “I hate the GSC play.” Curtis sighed.

  “I bet you look great in a brown skirt, Curtis,” I said.

  Berna snickered and fist-bumped me.

  “Hardy har. No. I always have to play the supportive brother, and you guys make me carry all the cookies.”

  “Becaush you’re sho shtrong,” Cassie said, batting her eyelashes at Curtis.

  Curtis made a goofy laugh and playfully shoved Cassie. Berna pretended to puke.

  “So can I come?” Victor asked.

  “Sorry, bro,” said Curtis. “Girl Scouts only.”

  I took Victor aside. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “I don’t get hurt. I do the hurt,” he joked, smacking his fist in his palm.

  I shook my head. He was not coming, no matter how charming he was.

  Victor clenched his jaw. “When you look at me, what do you see?”

  “Dimples?”

  Victor growled and walked off.

  “Was that a trick question?” I called after him, but he was gone.

  Berna, Cassie, and Curtis were all watching my crash and burn. I threw up my hands. “I try to protect him, he hates me. I don’t protect him, he might get eaten by a monster. I can’t win.”

  “Love and monsters, man,” Curtis said, shaking his head. “They just don’t mix.”

  Cassie looked shocked. “What’sh that shupposhed to mean?” She punched Curtis in the arm. Hard. And then she stormed off to class.

  “Ow!” Curtis cried. “What did I say?”

  “If you don’t know, we can’t help you,” Berna said.

  We walked to class, leaving an utterly confused Curtis rubbing his arm.

  After school, thick gray clouds hung low in the sky. The clang of the rope rang against the frozen flagpole. I was inside, by the doors facing the parking lot, keeping an eye out for the Sleeknatch, when Cassie quickly approached me.

  “Can I ashk you shomething, Kelly?” Cassie said.

  Her voice sounded humble and quiet. Not like its usual bossy tone.

  “It’sh about boysh. One boy. I won’t shay who. You don’t know him,” she said.

  I nodded, pretending like I had no idea she was talking about Curtis.

  “I like him, but he doeshn’t know it. Or if he doesh know it, he doeshn’t care. What should I do?”

  I felt honored Cassie would ask me. Then again, I had no clue what to tell her.

  “I think Curtis likes you; he just doesn’t know how to show it.”

  Cassie’s cheeks flushed red. Her eyes darted around. “How did you know it wash him?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  “How do you know he likesh me?” she whispered with a growing smile.

  “He laughs at your jokes. He hangs out with you all the time.”

  “He jusht needsh a little push ish what you’re shaying?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. Just take your time. Be friends—”

  “Quiet! Here he comesh!”

  Cassie and I straightened up as Curtis and Berna walked over.

  “What were you guys talking about?” said Berna, looking between us suspiciously.

  “Shoesh,” said Cassie.

  “Monsters,” I said.

  Curtis snorted. Cassie shot me a look, as if to say, Not a word of this to anyone!

  The shrill sounds of heavy metal shrieked outside. Wugnot and the babysitter mobile had arrived. We darted across the icy parking lot and hopped into the back of the chugging van. It was warm in there. Thick with the smell of peppermint.

  “Fifty-Five Bellevue Court, please, Wugnot,” I asked our hobgoblin driver.

  The passenger seat swiveled around to reveal Mama Vee, hair tied up in a big red scarf, eyes locked on me.

  “Where do you think
you’re going?” she said.

  “On a hunt?” I replied.

  “You look awful, kiddo. And I don’t mean that in a mean, superficial way. I mean that in an ‘I am genuinely concerned about your well-being’ way.”

  Wugnot snorted. Vee was right. I was so jacked up on adrenaline that I had forgotten how soggy and heavy my body felt. She poured a steaming cup of tea from her thermos and handed it to me.

  “You go into the field now, and you could make some serious errors. You’re already in hot water with your folks. So, the only place you’re going is home for the three Ss: snack, study, sleep.”

  “Why are you acting like I’m five years old and you’re still my babysitter?” I said.

  “Because you’re not even a real sitter yet, Kelly. Or did you forget that?”

  Ouch.

  “Thanks for reminding me,” I said, setting down the teacup. “FaceTime if you find anything,” I said to Berna before storming out of the van.

  Sitting in the yellow school bus of shame, I dialed Liz’s number and left her a long, rambling message. I hung up and stared out of the window. Houses and streets blurred together in a gray streak with the occasional green and red and gold of Christmas decorations. I closed my eyes and leaned forward, letting the cold glass soothe my hot forehead.

  “What’s shaking, K-Ferg?”

  Tammy was staring at me from the next seat over. I pulled my scarf tightly around my neck. “Hey, Tamara.”

  Tammy groaned as if she was soooooo embarrassed and yet it was all soooo hilarious.

  “You used to hate that name,” I said.

  Tammy straightened up, defensive. “Still my name.”

  Her gold shimmer eye shadow, dark brown eyeliner, and bright red lipstick made her look like she was sixteen. And she was wearing glitter, so help me, glitter. She looked awesome.

  “Your mom lets you wear makeup now?”

  Tammy’s eyes widened. “No! Thanks for reminding me. Yikes, Phyllis would blow a rod if she saw me wearing this. Deanna did it after first period.”

  She wiped a Kleenex across her lips and eyes, smearing the vibrant colors into thick smudges. Seeing Tammy used to make me feel silly and light, as if we were back in first grade. Now it just made me sad.

  “Here,” I said, offering her a pack of moist baby wipes I kept in my book bag.

  “Thanks,” she said, checking her face in her phone. “Guess being a babysitter has its perks after all, huh?”

  I cut right to it. “Are you embarrassed that I hang out with the babysitters, Tammy?”

  Tammy avoided my gaze. “I didn’t say that. It’s just . . . they’re a little off.”

  “Actually, they’re on. They’re awesome in every way.”

  “What is going on with you? No offense, but you look rough. Are you okay?”

  Even though we weren’t the best of besties anymore, I wanted to tell her everything, but I didn’t want her getting hurt.

  “I’m the best I’ve ever been,” I said, shoving my shoulders back. “Just wondering why you’re hanging out with a girl who has bullied and tormented us for the past five years of our lives. That’s all.”

  “We got partnered up in science class, and I made her laugh, I guess. Deanna’s not that bad,” Tammy said.

  “Tammy, in fourth grade, Deanna tweeted a rumor that you had a supercontagious skin condition that made your skin peel off like a snake. For a year nobody would sit next to you except me. Or remember that time she tripped me in the hall and I chipped my front tooth?”

  Tammy narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I’m an undercover agent plotting our revenge against her.”

  “Or maybe you just decided you like hanging out with the beautiful, popular kids because you think they’ll make you beautiful and popular,” I snapped.

  Tammy blinked quickly. I knew that look too well. Tears usually followed it.

  “That came out harsher than I wanted,” I added, cringing. “I meant to say just be you.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “Look,” Tammy said. “Maybe this is me and that other Tammy was just a stepping-stone on my evolution to my best self.”

  I rolled my eyes. She was even talking like Deanna.

  For the rest of the bus ride, she cycled through Instagram, Snapchat, and Facebook while I pretended to be interested in the gray, ice-frosted neighborhoods and the skeleton trees floating past. It took everything in me not to start crying.

  The bus groaned to a stop a few blocks from my house. “All ashore going to shore!” Larry the Toothless Bus Driver called out.

  I dashed out into the cold and ran all the way home, past the stupid inflatable polar bear on my neighbor’s lawn. I unlocked the door and walked inside.

  Normally, I like having the house to myself after school since my mom and dad both work late. But today, the house was so quiet it felt like I was wearing soundproof headphones. I blasted a dance party mix to fill the eerie silence as I fetched a huge container of Morton Salt from the kitchen and went around to every drain I could find to pour in a huge heaping of Sleeknatch-sizzling salt.

  “When I need to monster-proof my house, I use Morton Salt,” I said in a cheesy commercial–actor’s voice.

  I even poured a salt circle around the outside of my entire house. The neighbors must’ve thought I’d gone insane.

  Then I did exactly as Vee instructed. I made myself a light snack and sat down to do my homework like a responsible human. Mom and Dad would have been so proud. I snapped a selfie and sent it to them, just so they could rest assured their wonderful daughter was happily at home, doing as she was told.

  My phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize. I took a gamble and answered it because, hey, I live on the edge.

  “Kelly? It’s Dawn Harker. Sorry to call you directly, but it’s kind of an emergency. What are you doing right-right-right now?”

  Let the record show that I, Kelly Ferguson, tried to have a single normal afternoon.

  Really, I did.

  16

  Theo’s mom only needs me for just one hour, I thought. And if she needs me, then I have to protect the turtle hatchling. I can help her out and be back here before Mom and Dad get home. Easy peasy.

  I checked my book bag’s inventory. Jump rope net. Check. Silver dagger. Check. A Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting. Double check. My unfinished book report that I had every intention of finishing. Checkity-check.

  Found another Morton Salt container. Found a can of Raid under the kitchen sink. I grabbed it just in case and shuddered at the thought of having to use it.

  Mama Vee is going to be so peeved I went on a job without her permission. Let her be peeved! I’m almost a grown-up. I can handle this.

  I chugged the cold coffee my parents had left in the pot that morning. It was thick and sludgy, and it made my heart race and my brain yell “Go time!”

  Bzzt. Bzzt. Dawn texted me:

  I’m outside!

  Coming!

  I zipped up my arsenal and skipped outside. I was actually happy to see Dawn.

  A small green Ford that was missing a hubcap pulled into the driveway.

  “Yo! Yo!” Dawn called out. “Thank you so much, Kelly! You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said, putting her hand to her heart. Under her parka, I saw that she was wearing a black Olive Garden uniform. “My boss thinks I’m on my break.”

  “My parents think I’m doing homework,” I said. “Hey, Theo!”

  In the back, Theo was buckled into his rear-facing car seat. A mirror attached to the back seat’s headrest let us see his adorable, toothless smile. As Dawn drove out of my neighborhood, Theo’s little legs gleefully kicked the air. Cartoony green turtles were printed on his pajamas.

  “Cute jammies,” I said nervously.

  “I wasn’t going to call you, but then I thought I should just call you. And in case you couldn’t tell, I can’t exactly afford a full-time nanny at the moment.”

  “My pleasure. How’s he doing?”
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  Dawn wiped her hand across her forehead. “Yeah, he’s good,” she said, licking her lips. I saw her cheeks were sunken and pale. Her hair was slicked with sweat. “Me, however. I’ve been better.”

  Last night Dawn looked young and healthy. Today she was weak and thin.

  “Yikes. Do you have the flu?”

  She shrugged and squinted at the road. Even her hands seemed pallid, almost blue. “I dunno what I have. Something’s coming over me. . . . I can feel it crawling up the back of my skull like . . . brain freeze or something. . . . I just know we gotta go somewhere . . . ,” she trailed off.

  “The doctor?” I said. “Whatever you need.”

  “No. Not there. I’ve been having weird daydreams all afternoon,” she mumbled.

  Her head wobbled as she strained to see the rushing road ahead of her.

  “I wish Frank was here. We were such a good team.”

  She turned the wheel suddenly, and we veered into oncoming traffic.

  “Dawn!” I screamed, reaching for the wheel.

  A truck shot toward us as she turned down a street. Theo began to wail.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Dawn said, eerily calm.

  “Dawn, I think you should pull over.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice getting woozy.

  Something was wrong with her neck. At first I thought there was some kind of infection on it, but then I reached over and pulled back her jacket collar and saw two throbbing blue-black bite marks on her jugular.

  I shivered. Some kind of bug had bit her.

  “Dawn, I don’t think you should be driving.”

  She sped up. The tiny car shook.

  In his car seat, Theo shrieked.

  “It’s okay, Theo. She told me to go this way,” she said slowly.

  “Who told you? Dawn! Please! You’re scaring Theo and me!”

  “Hi, sweetie. Mommy loves you,” said Dawn, waving in the rearview mirror.

  We shot past a beach access sign. The small car bounced toward the dunes. I reached over to pull the hand brake, but Dawn snatched my arm.

  “You can’t take him!” she screamed at me. “He’s mine!”

  The Ford smashed up a hill covered in seagrass. In a spray of sand, we raced down the shore toward a long, narrow wooden pier over the water. A fisherman casting his line over the ledge spat out his cigar and jumped over the wooden railing just as the car rolled over his fish bucket. I reached over and tried to press down on the brakes with my hands, but Dawn kicked me.