“Hetty!” Tom yelled. And ran. In the direction Hetty Hyssop had taken.
“Help!” he kept yelling. “Help, Hetty Hyssop! It’s coooom-iiing!”
The IRG followed him, chuckling wickedly. Tom could feel the icy breath on his neck. It’s going to freeze me, he thought. It will. Any second now.
But all of a sudden Hetty Hyssop rushed toward him. She had a whole bundle of fizzing sparklers in each hand. They surrounded her with white light as if she were sparkling herself!
“Tom, the violet perfume!” she cried. “Quick!”
Puzzled, the IRG paused. It blinked angrily at the sparklers and screwed up its nose, nauseated, as Tom spilled the perfume all over his sweater.
“Baaaaaah! Thaaaaaat woooon’t help yoooooou, eeeeeither!” it howled.
“I’m afraid it’s right!” Hetty Hyssop breathlessly hissed into Tom’s ear. “The sparklers won’t last. We’ll have to use the rest of the graveyard dirt to get to the mirrored wardrobe. But just use tiny, tiny bits!”
Of course, the graveyard dirt! Tom reached into his pockets, his fingers still wet with snow. “You win, ghost,” he heard Hetty Hyssop say. “We give in. Let us pass, and we will leave the house.” She grabbed Tom’s hand and took a step forward. And another.
“Hoooooohoooooo!” intoned the IRG. “Well thaaaaaat woooooould suit yoooooou!”
“Tom, the graveyard dirt!” Hetty whispered.
Whizz! Tom threw a pinch of dirt at the IRG’s ghostly fingers.
“Oooooow!” it howled, wobbling a step backward.
Whizz! Tom threw another pinch.
Step by step, cursing and howling, the IRG retreated. But they still had two doors to go to reach the room with the mirrored wardrobe, and not a crumb of dirt was left in Tom’s pocket.
Hetty Hyssop turned as pale as the ghost. “I’m sorry, Tom!” she whispered hoarsely. “I should never have asked you to come along. What a foolhardy old woman I am! And what a brilliant ghosthunting team we could have been! It’s a shame!”
“What kind of ghosts do you think we will end up as?” Tom whispered back. “I really hope I won’t be an IRG!”
The IRG grinned a malicious grin. “Doooown!” it moaned while its icy fingers pointed over the banisters into the black drop. “I’m going to blow you dooooown there!”
As tightly as he could, Tom grabbed the banisters with one hand and Hetty Hyssop’s arm with the other. Then he closed his eyes. He definitely didn’t want to die squinting. “Waaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!” something howled above him, and cold arms lifted him and Hetty Hyssop above the banisters into thin air.
“Hugo!” cried Tom. “Where did you come from?”
“We’ve done it!” breathed Hugo. “We’ve done it!”
Flying just as quickly as an ASG can fly, he made for the kitchen. A delicious smell of cookies wafted out toward them.
“The IRG!” cried Hetty Hyssop. “It’s coming!”
It had cost the IRG a moment to get over Hugo’s sudden appearance. With a ghastly screech of rage it dived over the banisters and chased after them. In the nick of time Hugo whizzed through the kitchen door. Hastily he lifted Tom and Hetty onto the top of a cupboard and hid beside them.
“Where’s Mr. Lovely?” Tom whispered — then saw two shoes peeping out from behind the long blue curtain that covered the only window.
“Baaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhh!” the IRG came charging in — and stopped abruptly in front of the gigantic baking tray that was standing on the kitchen table. It sniffed, grinned ecstatically — and, with its wobbly fingers, stuffed countless cookies down its cavernous hatch all in one shot.
“One!” whispered Hetty Hyssop.
The IRG belched and rubbed its belly contentedly.
“Two!”
The IRG hiccuped and turned as yellow as a lemon.
“Threeee!” cried Hetty Hyssop.
Ploop! went the IRG, shrinking to the size of a brimstone butterfly. Tom couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Hurrah! It worked! The graveyard dirt worked!” cried Hetty Hyssop. She almost fell off the cupboard with excitement. “Quick — catch it, Hugo!”
“My pleasure!” howled Hugo, and whizzed after the IRG. He plucked it out of the air just as it tried to flutter through the door.
“He got it!” cried Mr. Lovely, reappearing from behind the curtain.
“Here, give that to Hugo,” cried Hetty Hyssop, throwing him what looked like a perfectly normal jam jar.
“That’s safe?” Mr. Lovely said, looking doubtfully at the jar.
“It is indeed,” Hetty Hyssop replied, “so would you two please shut the IRG inside it and then get us down!”
“Yooooou meeeeeanie!” shrieked the IRG as Hugo stuffed it into the glass jar. “I’ll get my reeeevenge!” However, its terrible voice was nothing but a squeak and it looked quite ridiculous when it flapped its tiny yellow wings against the see-through walls.
“A special glass, guaranteed ghost-proof!” said Hetty Hyssop as Hugo lifted her and Tom down from the cupboard. “My dear Mr. Lovely, your cookies were excellent!”
Mr. Lovely turned as red as one of the cherries he had used as decoration for his cookies. “Uncle Hugo was a great help.”
“He was indeed!” Hetty Hyssop said, smiling at Hugo. “I never was so glad to see a ghost as when Tom and I stood up there behind those banisters. Thank you once again, both of you. And I definitely want that cookie recipe. Though luckily IRGs are a very rare ghost species and my chances of meeting another in my ghosthunting career are not that high!”
“It looks hilarious that size,” Tom said, grinning into the glass. The IRG angrily threw its head at him. The head was the only part that still looked like its old, evil self — a shrunken version, of course.
“I’ll take it home with me first of all,” said Hetty Hyssop. “And tomorrow we’ll all get together for a nice cup of tea to celebrate our victory — of course with some of Mr. Lovely’s cookies, too. If possible a variety without graveyard dirt!”
“Home? Oh no!” cried Tom, looking at the time. “I’d better get to Grandma’s before she sounds the alarm.”
“I’ll fly yoooou there,” breathed Hugo. “As a farewell gift!”
“Oh, don’t think you’ll get rid of me that easily! I’ll come and visit you,” said Tom. “If Mr. Lovely doesn’t mind!”
“On the contrary!” said Mr. Lovely. “I’ll bake you a very special cake each time you come. I am indebted to you for the rest of my life, young man, and I guess I can say the same for Hugo!”
“Oh, it … it was nothing!” Tom replied, fumbling with his glasses. “However, Hugo, you could actually do me a massive favor… .”
“Oh? What?” asked Hugo curiously.
“Well, you know I’ve got a big sister,” said Tom. “A sister who doesn’t believe in ghosts. Do you think you could convince her she’s wrong?”
“Ooooh, I’d love to!” said Hugo, smiling delightedly. “Right away?”
Tom shook his head, yawning. “No, Friday would be best. As soon as it’s dark. Just knock on my window.”
“Absoluuuutely, absoluuuutely!” Hugo rubbed his icy hands in anticipation. “Is your sister very easily scared?”
“Oh no,” said Tom. “But you’ll find a way.”
15
Friday was the day that Mom and Dad went out. Pretty much every Friday evening they left Tom to be looked after by his deeply caring big sister. Lola, of course, would have preferred to meet up with her eternally giggling friends — and took it out on Tom. This Friday was no exception. They’d barely been alone five minutes when Lola sat down with the phone glued to her ear to tell all her friends what a nightmare it was looking after her stupid, silly squirt of a thickhead brother, just because he’d wet himself with fear if he were left on his own.
Next she announced: “I’m afraid the film isn’t suitable for ‘children under twelve,’ little brother,” and switched off the TV right in front of Tom’s nose. Then she reso
rted to violence to confiscate the chocolate that Grandma had given Tom, supervised his toothbrushing with an egg timer — and then gave him her generous permission to read in bed for an hour. Just like every Friday.
But this time Tom didn’t lie there grinding his teeth while the TV blared away in the next room. This time he waited for Hugo.
His ghostly friend appeared as silently as moonlight when darkness was already filling Tom’s room like black soup. Hugo just floated through the wall.
“Helloooo!” he breathed. “I’m here. As promised.”
“She’s in the living room!” whispered Tom, standing up. “Come on, I’ll take you there.”
Silently he opened the bedroom door and crept out into the hall. Hugo floated behind him, humming softly.
The living room door was open a crack. Lola always did that to make sure Tom could hear her laughing at the TV.
“Right,” whispered Tom. “Just as you promised, OK?”
“Ooooh yes!” moaned Hugo gleefully. Then he disappeared through the door. Tom turned and shot back into his bedroom. He switched on the light and threw himself on his bed.
Next door the TV suddenly went silent. Instead there was a shrill, small scream — and next minute Lola came rushing into Tom’s room, pale and trembling. She quickly locked the door and leaned against it.
“Wow, that must be some exciting film,” said Tom, setting his glasses straight. “I thought there were only some boring reruns on.”
Lola gasped for breath. “There’s a gh — a … a ghost sitting on the sofa!” she blurted out with a croak.
“Oh, one of those ghosts that don’t exist?” asked Tom nonchalantly. “Tell it I said hello.”
“Cut out the stupid jokes!” snapped Lola. “It’s an enormous creature! It, it — it’s eating all the chocolate and moaning and rolling its eyes!”
“Hmm, well,” said Tom, his eyes still glued to the pages of his book. “Ghosts don’t have particularly good manners. But when all’s said and done, you eat my chocolate, too. I think there’s still a bar left in the kitchen cupboard, by the way.”
“What — what in the world are you saying?” panted Lola. “It’s a ghost! Don’t you get it, you lamebrain? A real ghost! It made the lightbulbs explode and covered everything in slime. We’ve got to call the police!”
“Ha-ha. So are they supposed to handcuff it or what?” Tom giggled.
“There’s nothing to giggle about, you idiot!” screeched Lola.
Tom snapped his book shut with a sigh. “So how big is it exactly?”
“Enormous!” wailed Lola. “It’s wobbling right up to the ceiling.”
“Aw, then it’s just a pretty small specimen,” said Tom. “Unlock the door again. I’ll just have a look at it.”
“Whaaat? Have you gone nuts?” “You’re nuts if you think ghosts are put off by locked doors. They just float through them.” Horrified, Lola backed away from the door.
Tom smiled sympathetically as he pushed past her. Confidently he went into the dark living room. Hugo, flickering a kind of blue-green, floated above Lola’s armchair, sucking on a bar of chocolate.
“Do you see it?” Lola peeped over Tom’s shoulder, her teeth chattering slightly. “Isn’t — isn’t it hor-hor-horrible?”
“Whatever. It’s an Averagely Spooky Ghost. Nothing to worry about.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Pssst!” Tom cleared his throat. “Hey, ghost,” he said loudly. “Get lost, do you hear? And kindly let my sister watch TV in peace.”
“Waaaaaaaaaaaah!” howled Hugo, inflating himself threateningly and stretching his icy fingers out toward Tom. He was really outdoing himself.
Lola disappeared into her room, screaming.
“Perfect!” whispered Tom. Then he called loudly enough for Lola to hear: “You don’t have to show off! You might be able to scare my sister, but not me. Get lost, or I’ll knock your haunting powers out of you forever!”
“Aaaaaaaaoooooohhhh!” moaned Hugo, giving Tom a conspiratorial grin. “Oooooowoooooohooooo!”
“Right!” cried Tom. “This is your last warning. Remember: Violets! Graveyards! Mirrors!”
“Oooooohhooo!” howled Hugo, pretending to be horrified.
“Get lost!” Tom cried again. “Now!”
With a heartrending sigh — and a friendly wave — Hugo floated toward the window.
“See yooooou later, my friend!” he breathed. Then he disappeared outside into the night.
All was quiet in the living room.
The TV flickered silently away to itself.
Tom walked over to Lola’s room and knocked at the door. Tentatively she stuck out the tip of her nose.
“You can come out again,” said Tom. “It’s gone.”
Lola took a step forward and peeped disbelievingly into the living room. Then she looked at her little brother, dumbstruck. “You — you actually got rid of it.”
Tom shrugged. “Wasn’t difficult. Good night.”
The TV stopped flickering and some police cars appeared on the screen, chasing what looked like an alien.
“Don’t you want to come and watch with me for a bit?” asked Lola. She peered anxiously behind the sofa. “It’s a great movie, and I won’t tell Mom!”
“No, thanks,” said Tom and yawned. “I know this one. Actually it’s dead boring… .”
Then he went into his bedroom. He sat on the windowsill with a deep sigh and looked up at the moon.
This is the best night of my whole life, he thought. The best by miles.
Lola never called Tom a stupid, silly squirt of a thickhead brother again. In fact Friday evenings became positively cozy, as Lola suddenly developed a marked dislike of watching TV on her own. And she never stole Tom’s chocolate again. In short she became a tolerable big sister.
But what became of the other heroes of this story?
Well, Hetty Hyssop delivered several highly regarded lectures on driving out particularly dangerous IRGs and was often invited to tea by Mr. Lovely. He sold his cookie recipe — leaving out the bit about graveyard dirt, of course — under the name “Ghostly Kisses” to a big cookie factory, and it became a very famous brand.
Hugo cheerfully and contentedly continued haunting the old villa.
And as for the IRG — well, it’s still in the jar on a shelf at the RCFCAG — the Retention Center for Criminally Aggressive Ghosts. At first it wobbled around angrily — but recently you might think it was starting to grow again… .
In Case of an Encounter
Honorable readers, now that you’ve read of the dangers Tom faced in Ghosthunters and the Incredibly Revolting Ghost!, it is most expressly urged that you not be so imprudent as to undertake a similarly perilous expedition. But for those beginning ghosthunters who, all advice to the contrary, insist upon attempting to expel a ghost … some words of caution:
PRECAUTIONARY MEASURES
against Ghosts in General
• The color red — as in socks, sweaters, curtains, sofas, and so on.
• Raw eggs, for throwing.
• Violet-scented perfume: ASGs and IRGs alike detest the smell. It makes their skin itch, and it has the added bonus of combating their natural and naturally foul ghost odor. For best results, spritz via an atomizer.
• Mirrors: Hang them on your red-painted walls; wear pocket-sized varieties when in the field.
• A spare pair of shoes: Depending on the variety of ghost, it will leave a trail that’s sticky, snowy, etc. If in the thrill of the chase your sneakers get glued in place, it helps to have a backup.
• Graveyard dirt that’s been gathered at night (see specifics per species below).
• And no matter what, do not — do NOT — carry a flashlight on ghosthunting expeditions. The beam of a flashlight will drive a ghost into a violent rage.
IN CASE OF AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ASG
(Averagely Spooky Ghost)
• Outfit yourself with a hot water bottle
. ASGs abhor heat.
• Broadcast music at full volume: Mozart is recommended, though in an emergency Beethoven or any of the lesser German composers will suffice.
• Expose it to daylight.
• Douse it with graveyard dirt: An ASG will turn to dust on contact.
IN CASE OF AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN IRG
(Incredibly Revolting Ghost)
• Confront it between the hours of seven and eight p.m., when it is at its weakest.
• Keep it at bay with sparklers (note: as sparklers only sparkle for so long, this should not be your primary means of defense).
• Trick it into eating graveyard dirt (note: this is easier said than done).
• Worst-case scenario, hide behind the nearest available mirrored wardrobe.
Indispensable Alphabetical
APPENDIX OF ASSORTED GHOSTS
ASG Averagely Spooky Ghost
BLAGDO BLAck Ghost DOgs
BOSG BOg and Swamp Ghost
CG Cellar Ghost
COHAG COmpletely HArmless Ghost
FG Fire Ghost
FOFIFO FOggy FIgure FOrmer
FOFUG FOggy FUg-Ghost
GG Graveyard Ghost
GHADAP GHost with A DArk Past
GIHUFO Ghost In HUman FOrm
GILIG Gruesome Invincible LIghtning Ghost
HIGA HIstorical Ghostly Apparition
IRG Incredibly Revolting Ghost
MUWAG MUddy WAters Ghost
NEPGA NEgative Projection of a Ghostly Apparition
PAWOG PAle WObbly Ghost
STKNDG STinking KNOcking Ghost
TIBIG TIny BIting Ghost
TOHAG TOtally HArmless Ghost
TOMOB TOtally MOldy Baroness
WHIWHI WHIrlwind WHIrler
Ghosthunters and the Incredibly Revolting Ghost Page 6