Beasts & Geeks

by Joe Ballarini

  I darted into Tammy’s kitchen pantry and grabbed the salt. In the bathroom, I dialed 9-1-1. As I poured salt down the sink, I told the operator my house had been broken into and I was not home, but my parents were there, and would they pretty please with sugar on top send a squad car or whatever to my house to check on my parents?

  “Yes, we can do that, miss,” said the 9-1-1 operator. “Are you in a safe place?”

  “Yeah, but it’s superawkward. See, my best friend decided to trade me in for a bunch of mean girls,” I said. “So I’m physically safe but not, like, emotionally safe. Hello?”

  “The police are on their way.”

  A floorboard creaked. Shadows glided under the bathroom door. I shoved it open and saw Deanna and the Princess Pack huddled outside.

  “Oh, hi!” Deanna said. “We were just wondering if you wanted a little makeup?” She held up her bedazzled makeup bag. “I’ve been watching this Instagram model’s YouTube tutorials on makeup. I’m supes good at it.”

  I looked at their dramatically dark eye shadow and cherry bomb–colored lips. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “Oh, come on, Kelly Perfect Per-Ferguson! Have some fun-gerson,” Deanna said, shoving her way into the bathroom with the others.

  “Please stop talking like that,” I said.

  Tammy followed us in. I started to object, but their brushes and blushes and liners and glosses flew in my face, under Deanna’s very specific instructions. I held my hand over Theo’s head.

  “You’re getting glitter on his head!” I scolded.

  The girls laughed. I felt strangely welcomed. Like I was part of their inner circle. They all looked so happy and carefree. I clung to Theo as Tammy tugged at my hair and combed it back. I hated to admit it, but it was kind of fun.

  “Can I just say something?” Deanna whispered, dusting my eyelids with a brush. “Tamara told me what you told her about me being a total nasty-nass to you, and I know I can be a big ole meanie. But that was the old me. New me is mature and accepting of all kinds. I’ve gotten very socially conscious with my life. Just look at the stuff I post. It’s like, we need to wake up to the world around us and see we’re not like the most important thing all the time. The world is bigger than us, you guys. And so that’s why I can say, and I know this is a total shocker, but I was wrong.”

  “So wrong,” agreed the Princess Pack.

  “But that me was, like, fake news,” Deanna said. “I blame society and social media and so many other things for me being that way.”

  “I am so confused,” I said.

  “Voilà! This might be my masterpiece,” Deanna said proudly.

  CLICK! One of the princesses snapped a picture of me.

  “You should send that to Victor,” Deanna said, jabbing a makeup pencil under my eye. “He and I used to carpool together, you know. I had such a crush on him, but he’s not my type anymore. But you should totally go for it.”

  The bathroom felt like it was getting smaller. Their brushes poked me, as if I were a rat in a lab experiment.

  “Enough!” I shouted, elbowing away from them, holding Theo tight. “Get away!”

  “What’s your problem?” snapped Deanna.

  Keeping my eyes on their stunned faces, I slowly backed out of the bathroom and stalked into Tammy’s bedroom. I buckled Theo into the Lone Wolf. My hand hovered by one of the hidden swords as they followed me inside.

  “What’s wrong?” Tammy asked, sounding genuinely hurt.

  “I’m not falling for this!” I screamed. “You’re not nice, Deanna! You’ve been mean to me and to Tammy our whole lives; that’s how I know none of this is real! You’ve been bit—You’ve all been bit, and you can stop pretending because I’m on to you fakes! You liars!”

  Deanna’s face twisted in a grimace. She started to cry.

  “This is the thanks I get for being nice.” Deanna sobbed into her hands.

  The Princess Pack gently comforted her. Tammy shook her head. Deanna’s weeping sounded so real. So genuine.

  That’s because it is real, you idiot.

  I blinked and caught my reflection in the mirror. Deanna had done a really good job on my makeup. I looked way older. At least fifteen. Maybe even sixteen.

  “Sorry,” I said, cringing. “It’s been a really bad night for me.”

  Deanna blew her nose hard and straightened up. “It’s okay. I get it. I intimidate people.” She wiped her eyes and suddenly brightened. “Hey! I have an idea. Let’s play Hail Harriet.”

  Hail Harriet was a creepy game kids in Rhode Island have been playing for decades. It was the local version of Bloody Mary. It was rumored that if you turned off the lights, lit a candle, and said “Harriet Hargrave” three times while looking into a mirror, you would see the ghost of Harriet Hargrave, the infamous mansion murderer, in the reflection. Given my present circumstances and the fact that Curtis and Cassie had disappeared while investigating Hargrave Manor, this game was the last thing in the world I wanted to play.

  “No way,” I said.

  “Too late. You were mean, and now you have to do what we want,” said Deanna, shutting off the lights. “I know how much you love weird stuff. I’ve heard rumors about you and the babysitters.”

  “Sounds spooky. I’m into it!” Tammy said, lighting a candle.

  They gathered before the mirror and began to chant the gruesome rhyme:

  “Harriet Hargrave, child, what did you do?

  Snipped and clipped your family in two.

  Did you mistake your parents for a hedge?

  What evil thing sent you over the edge?”

  “Seriously, you guys,” I said. “I’m not playing.”

  But they kept going: “Harriet Hargrave, what else will you do? Say her name three times, and she’ll come for YOU.”

  Shadows darkened. Theo stirred in my arms. He wasn’t crying. Yet.

  Their voices were low and eerie: “Harriet Hargrave. Harriet Hargrave.”

  The hair on my arms rose. “Cut it out!”

  Deanna looked at me in the mirror and smirked. She was loving seeing me so freaked out.

  “Harriet Hargrave.”

  We stood in the silent darkness, staring into the mirror. Deanna suddenly screamed. I jumped. The girls shrieked and grabbed one another.

  “Got you!” Deanna cackled, pointing in my face. “You guys are such snowflakes!”

  The other girls giggled and playfully shoved Deanna. I sighed and shook my head, but as they walked away from the mirror, I saw the candle flame flicker in an invisible wind.

  “Is the heat on?” asked one of the Princesses. “I’m freezing.”

  Deanna, Tammy, and the Princesses went back to checking their phones. Theo started to cry. I anxiously looked around the room. We were alone. But why was Theo crying? He wasn’t hungry or tired or stinky. Something dark caught my eye. In the mirror a teenager with black pigtails and a ragged floral-print dress was standing at the foot of the bed. Her head tilted at an odd angle. She was holding something behind her back.

  Tammy’s dresser thumped as I backed into it. Harriet’s scowling eyes snapped in my direction.

  “Take your meds, Kelly. It was just a joke,” said Deanna.

  Harriet’s gaze locked on Theo. She smiled hungrily, and inky sludge ran down her pale chin, dripping down her dress.

  “Go away,” I whispered, snatching my backpack.

  “Don’t tell me to go away. We’re in my room—you go away,” Tammy said.

  “Don’t you see? She’s right there!” I said, pointing frantically.

  “Hardy har-har,” Tammy said flatly as Harriet Hargrave stood beside her.

  Wonderful. Now I could add being able to see ghosts to my list of weirdo abilities.

  I swung Theo toward the door. SLAM! A roaring wind banged it shut. The girls yelped. I tried to open it, but it was being held closed by an invisible force. Tammy slapped on the lights. Pop! The bulb shattered. The door bucked and rattled. Harriet giggled, high-pitched,
as if she were playing an amusing game.

  “Stop it, Kelly,” Tammy demanded.

  Harriet walked through her. Tammy shuddered.

  “Leave us alone!” I screamed, ripping the door open and running into the hall with Theo.

  The teen spirit followed me from the bedroom and raised a pair of rusty hedge clippers from behind her back, slowly stepping toward me.

  27

  “The forces of darkness can kiss my butt, because you are not getting this baby!” I screamed, bolting into the living room, where I hid behind the blinking Christmas tree and opened the guide.

  From Kelly Ferguson’s copy of A Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting:

  GETTING RID OF A GHOST

  Is the spirit friendly? If so, hooray! See Aiding Friendly Ghosts on page 32. For ghosts summoned using board games, turn to O for OUIJA.

  If the ghost has been determined not to be friendly, SUCKS FOR YOU. Here are your options:

  1) Show no fear. Ghosts don’t listen to those they do not respect. Be brave.

  2) Give the bones of the ghost a proper burial. (You will need bones and a rabbi/priest/pastor/imam with you to conduct the burial.)

  3) Does the ghost have unfinished business? Help them finish it! Unless the unfinished business involves anything harmful/illegal/murderous/vengeful. (For vengeful reconciliation of spirits, see Healing and Peacemaking on page 45.)

  4) Point the Amulet of Taka Ra at them and repeat the following: “Klatu Veracta Nektu.” Important note: for this method you will need the Amulet of Taka Ra. If you do not have the amulet, skip this step.

  5) Electrical weaponry can be useful in dispersing a ghost and scattering its energy patterns into the ether. See P for Photon Pack.

  6) Cast off your mortal coil, become a ghost yourself, take the spirit by the hand, and personally lead them into the light. (This is for emergencies only and must be done with the assistance of a professional.) For more specifics, see F for Flatlining on page 245.

  7) If all else fails, shout “YOU ARE NOT WELCOME” as you spin around in a circle three times while showing you are not afraid. Then say, “YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ME.” Warning: this might scare it away or this might make it angrier, and it will make you very dizzy.

  My options seemed limited. None of the weapons in my backpack would work. I looked around for Harriet, but she wasn’t there. Near the couch, a robotic Santa Claus waved its mechanical arm slowly back and forth. Ornaments on the tree branches shuddered. I saw in the shiny glass balls the warped reflection of Harriet Hargrave lunging at me. I dove out of the way, holding Theo like a football. The tree crashed into the wall. Ornaments shattered.

  “She’s gone insane!” Deanna said with a smirk. She, Tammy, and the rest of the Princess Pack were standing by the doorway.

  Giggling, Harriet Hargrave grabbed Christmas knickknacks from the mantel and chucked them at the girls. Tammy got pelted with an Elf on the Shelf. Deanna took a Christmas stocking full of candy to the face.

  Harriet picked up the tree by its trunk and swung it around the living room. The girls froze in shock. They couldn’t see Harriet, but they could see the seven-foot-tall Christmas tree flailing in midair.

  “Stop being so aggressive, Kelly!” shouted Deanna.

  “Um. Kelly. How are you doing that?” Tammy said, quietly stunned.

  “I’m not! It’s Harriet Hargrave!”

  The girls gawked at the hovering Christmas tree as it chased them down the hall. The girls shrieked and ran into Tammy’s bedroom, locking the door. Harriet cackled and tossed the tree at me.

  “Harriet Hargrave,” I commanded. “By the Order of the Rhode Island Babysitters I order you to leave this house!”

  Harriet snipped her hedge clippers at me, opened her mouth impossibly wide, and screeched out a foul wind.

  So much for shouting her out of the house.

  I stood my ground, clutching Theo against my hammering heart. Snip, snip went Harriet’s clippers. The guide said to not show fear, but I was one scream away from peeing my pants. Ornaments that were scattered across the floor crunched under my sneakers as I backed into the living room. The robotic Santa waved and smiled. An overloaded wall socket stuffed with ten power strips crackled and sparked, causing the Christmas lights that jammed into it to pulse in the dark windows.

  “Aaaaanaaaa,” Theo grumbled into my sweater.

  Snip, snip grated the creepy clipper blades as Harriet stalked toward me.

  “You leave my friends alone!” I screamed at the apparition, glancing at the electrical socket. “Okay, so I’m not exactly besties with Deanna, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you hurt her or the princesses! They’re actually cool—just a little narcissistic, and I guess I’m jealous if I’m honest, but whatever, that’s my own thing. If Tammy wants to hang out with other people, then fine! Just leave them alone and get out of this house!”

  Harriet dove at me, clippers wide open for my throat. I ducked, and with my free hand, grabbed a string of Christmas lights off the window. I threw them at the hedge clippers just as the blades snapped closed, cutting into the wire.

  Sparks shot through Harriet. She jolted and shrieked as the string of bulbs popped like fireworks. Smoke shot from her pigtails. I shielded Theo just before she burst into a thousand whizzing, screaming sparks.

  Tammy’s bedroom creaked open.

  Tammy and the Princess Pack cautiously poked their heads around the corner and saw me standing in the wreckage.

  “You. Wrecked. My. House,” Tammy said quietly.

  “It was the ghost of Harriet Hargrave,” I said.

  “Are you for real serious right now? You expect us to believe a ghost did this?” Deanna said.

  I was speechless.

  Deanna crossed her arms and glared at me. “You know, Kelly, we were trying really hard to be nice to you because we felt bad that you made up some story about being stalked, just so you could invite yourself over since you’re so, like, heartbroken that Tamara is hanging out with us now. . . . But then you go and trash her house? I’m not the worst. You are. You’re like the ‘Grinch who stole Christmas’ worst.”

  I looked to Tammy for a little support, but she avoided my eyes. My cheeks flushed.

  The house I’d spent so much time in felt alien and unfamiliar with the angry faces of the Princess Pack and my now ex–best friend. Then an even worse realization dawned on me: the ghost of Harriet Hargrave was not gone for good. Can’t kill something that’s already dead, the guide says.

  What if Harriet, once she rematerializes or whatever, tells Serena I’m here with Theo?

  As frustrated as I was with Tammy and the Princess Pack, the last thing I wanted was for them to be attacked.

  My location had been compromised, and there was only one thing to do: keep moving. Stay ahead of the game.

  “I should go,” I said, buckling Theo into the Lone Wolf.

  “I think you should,” Tammy said.

  “And you will be getting a bill for all the damage you’ve done here,” Deanna called out.

  Snow whirled inside as Tammy opened the front door. I bundled Theo up and zipped up my jacket in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, looking out at the cold night. “Really. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  Tammy chewed her lip and made sure we were out of earshot of Deanna and the others.

  “I believe you,” she whispered. “About Harriet. I don’t know how, but I felt something wicked back there. And . . . I thought I saw something in the mirror. Someone. There was no way you could have made that tree do that. Is there?”

  Her eyes met mine and saw I had told the truth. She gasped and put her shaking hand to her mouth.

  “So actually, this is stupid Deanna’s fault for wanting to play that game,” she said, scowling into the house.

  “Don’t blame her,” I said. “She’s clueless. I gotta go, Tammy. I’ll explain everything soon, swearsville.”

  “Please don’t go
,” she said, suddenly clutching my hand. “Stay. I’ll tell them to leave.”

  My eyes welled up for a second. This was the real Tammy I knew. My bestie. It felt good to reconnect with her, if just for a second. It gave me a little bit of hope.

  “Lock your doors. And watch out for spiders,” I said, walking down the path.

  “But you said it’s not safe out there!” she pleaded.

  “It’s okay, Tammy. I’m a babysitter.”

  FROM BABYSITTER CASE FILE #13:

  Professor Gonzalo

  Among the Golden Age mansions lavishly decorated for Christmas, Hargrave Manor—with its crumbling rooftop and boarded-up windows—sat like the wicked stepchild of the neighborhood who refused to celebrate the season. Not a single flicker of light or good cheer escaped its dark, decaying roost.

  With the help of her pale chauffer, the Spider Queen hobbled through the mansion. Her ten elegantly dressed, bleach-blond trolls, with their hair done up in curls and pompadours, paraded behind her, drying her with towels and covering her with fresh, long red robes. They wore colorful porcelain carnival masks painted with pretty smiles because their queen could not stand the sight of their hideous troll faces.

  The queen flung open the door to her bedroom, where thick spiderwebs crisscrossed the chamber like banners of elegant lace. Clusters of gooey spider eggs hung from sinewy threads.

  She looked into a mirror. Her makeup had been washed away, and her face was starting to look like a melted prune. Beneath her own skin, the face of something hideous waited to be exposed.

  “Disaster!” she hissed, shattering the mirror.

  In their translucent sacs, baby spiders twitched at the sound of their mother’s voice.

  “She is only a child! A thirteen-year-old ginger! A worm!”

  Her chauffer held out his wrists, and she set upon them, drinking in a frenzy, draining his body to the brink of death. Having a corpse for a driver was as good as having no driver, so she let him live.

  “Professor Gonzalo! Get in here now!”

  A tubby, pear-shaped man wearing a tweed jacket and a bow tie cautiously poked his head into her room. Professor Gonzalo’s tiny, cruel eyes blinked behind his dirty spectacles. Though he was the fifth Boogeyman, he feared Serena.