by R. L. Stine
Feeling weak, I leaned harder on the cane.
“Yuck! What’s that in your hair?” Mom cried.
“Spiders,” I told her. I shuddered. I could feel them crawling over my head and in my ears.
“They’re so real-looking,” Mom declared, raising a hand to her cheek. She shook her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a hobo? That mask must be so hot and uncomfortable.”
If she only knew how uncomfortable it was!
“Leave him be,” Dad scolded her. “He looks great. He’s going to terrify everyone on the street tonight.”
I hope so, I thought. I glanced at my watch. Time to get going.
“Well, he’s terrifying me!” Mom exclaimed. She shut her eyes. “I can’t stand to look at you, Steve. Why did you buy something so… so ugly?”
“I think it’s funny,” Dad told her. He poked a finger at my long tooth. “Great mask. Is it rubber?”
“Yeah. I guess,” I muttered in my quivering, old voice.
Mom made a disgusted face. “Are you trick-or-treating with Chuck?”
I yawned. I suddenly felt sleepy. “I promised my soccer players I’d meet them,” I croaked. “Then I’m going over to Carly Beth’s house.”
“Well, don’t stay out too late,” Mom said. “And if that heavy mask gets too hot, take it off for a while—okay?”
I wish! I thought bitterly.
“See you later,” I said. Leaning on the cane, I began dragging myself to the front door.
Mom and Dad laughed at my funny walk.
I wasn’t laughing. I wanted to cry.
Only one thing kept me from breaking down and telling them the truth. Only one thing kept me from telling Mom and Dad that I was trapped inside this horrible mask, that it had turned me into a weak, ancient creature.
Revenge.
I could see the terrified expressions on the faces of my soccer team. And I could hear their howls of horror as they went running for their lives.
That cheered me up and kept me going.
I grabbed the doorknob and struggled to pull open the front door.
“Steve—wait!” Dad cried. “My camera. Wait. I want to take a picture.” He disappeared in search of the camera.
“Your trick-or-treat bag!” Mom cried. “You forgot your trick-or-treat bag.” She rummaged around in the front closet until she found the shopping bag with little pumpkins all over both sides.
I knew I couldn’t manage the cane and the shopping bag. But I took it from her anyway. I’ll throw the bag away when I get outside, I decided. I didn’t plan to trick-or-treat. I knew it would take me half an hour just to walk up someone’s driveway!
Dad burst back into the living room. “Say cheese!” he cried, raising his little camera.
I tried to twist my wormy lips into a smile.
Dad flashed the camera once. Then three more times.
Blinded by flashbulb lights, I said good-bye and made my way out the door. The white circles followed me into the night. I nearly fell off the front stoop.
I grabbed the railing and waited for my heart to stop pounding. Slowly the flashes of light faded from my eyes, and I began to pull myself down the driveway.
It was a clear, cold night. No wind at all. The nearly bare trees stood as still as statues.
I limped onto the sidewalk and started in the direction of the Carpenter mansion. There was no moon. But the street appeared brighter than usual. Most houses had all of their front lights on to welcome trick-or-treaters.
I stuffed the shopping bag into a trash can at the foot of our neighbors’ driveway. Then I continued down the block, my cane tap-tapping on the sidewalk.
My back began to ache. My old legs trembled. I leaned over the cane, breathing hard.
After half a block, I had to take a rest against a lamppost. Luckily, the Carpenter mansion was on the next block.
As I started on my way, two little girls came hurrying down the sidewalk, followed by their father. One girl wore colorful butterfly wings. The other wore lots of makeup, a gold crown, and a long fancy dress.
“Ooh, he’s ugly,” the butterfly whispered to her friend as they came near.
“Yuck!” I heard the princess reply. “Look at the green stuff in his nose.”
I leaned close to them, opened my lips in a snarl, and rasped, “Get out of my way!”
The little girls both let out frightened squeals and took off down the sidewalk. Their father flashed me an angry stare and hurried after them.
“Heh-heh-heh.” An evil cackle escaped my lips.
Seeing their frightened faces gave me new energy. Leaning on my cane, I tap-tapped my way across the street.
A few minutes later, the Carpenter mansion came into view. The huge old house stood dark and empty. Its stone turrets rose up to the purple night sky like castle towers.
Huddled under a streetlamp at the bottom of the weed-choked front yard stood my soccer team. My Hogs. My first graders.
My victims.
They were all in costumes. I saw Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles. Mummies and monsters. Two ghosts, a Beauty, and a Beast.
But I recognized them anyway. I recognized them because they were shoving each other, grabbing at trick-or-treat bags, shouting and fighting.
I leaned against my cane, watching them from halfway down the block. My heart started to pound. My whole body trembled.
This was it. My big moment.
“Okay, guys,” I murmured softly to myself. “It’s show time!”
21
I was trembling with excitement as I dragged myself up to them. I stepped into the light, my wormy lips twisted in a frightening sneer.
I stared from one to another, giving them a chance to see my terrifying face. Giving them a chance to see the spiders crawling through my hair. The wormhole in my tooth. The patch of skull poking up through my rutted scalp.
They grew quiet. I could feel their eyes on me. I could sense their instant fear.
I opened my mouth to let out a frightening growl that would send them running for their mommies.
But Marnie Rosen, wearing a white bride’s dress and veil, stepped up to me before I could get it out. “Can we help you, sir?” she asked.
“Are you lost?” one of the Power Rangers asked.
“Do you need directions?”
“Can we help you get somewhere?”
No. No!
This wasn’t going right. This wasn’t going the way I’d planned—the way I’d dreamed!
Marnie took my arm. “Which way were you headed, sir? We’ll walk with you. It’s kind of a scary night to be walking around a strange neighborhood.”
The others pushed in closer, trying to be helpful.
Trying to be helpful to an old man. An old man they weren’t the least bit scared of.
“Nooooo!” I howled in protest. “I’m the ghost of the Carpenter mansion! I’ve come to pay you back for trespassing on my front yard!”
I tried to shriek—but my voice came out in a weak whisper. I don’t think they heard a word I uttered.
I’ve got to scare them, I told myself. I’ve got to!
I raised both hands together in the air as if I planned to strangle them all.
My cane flew out of my grasp. I lost my balance and tottered over backward.
“Ohhhh!” I let out a groan as I hit the sidewalk sitting up.
They all cried out. But not in fear. They cried out because they were worried about me.
Helping hands reached down to pull me to my feet.
“Are you okay? Here’s your cane.” I recognized Duck Benton’s scratchy voice.
I heard murmurs of sympathy. “Poor old guy,” someone whispered.
“Are you hurt?”
“Can we get you some help?”
No. No. No. No. No.
They weren’t terrified. The weren’t the tiniest bit afraid.
I sank onto the cane. I suddenly felt so weary. So totally exhausted I could barely keep my head up.
Forget about scaring them, Steve, I told myself. You’ve got to get to Carly Beth’s house before you collapse. You’ve got to find out from Carly Beth how to get the mask off. How to get your old face—and strength—back.
Marnie was still holding on to my trembling arm. “Where are you trying to go?” she asked, her freckled face filled with concern.
“Uh… do you know where Carly Beth Caldwell’s house is?” I asked in a weak croak.
“It’s on the next block. Across the street. I know her brother,” I heard Andrew Foster say.
“We’ll take you there,” Marnie offered.
She gripped my arm tighter. A mummy stepped up and took my other arm. They began to walk me slowly, gently down the sidewalk.
I don’t believe this! I thought bitterly. They’re supposed to be scared out of their costumes! They should be shrieking and crying by now.
But instead, they’re helping me walk.
I sighed. The sad thing was, I felt so tired and weak, I couldn’t have made it to Carly Beth’s without their help.
They led me halfway up her driveway. Then I thanked them and told them I could make it the rest of the way.
I watched them scurry away to go trick-or-treating. “I guess Steve isn’t going to show up,” Duck said.
“He was probably too big a wimp to go out on Halloween night!” Marnie joked.
They all laughed.
Leaning heavily on the cane, I turned toward Carly Beth’s house. The lights were all on. But I couldn’t see anyone in the windows.
She probably isn’t back from trick-or-treating yet, I decided.
I heard chattering voices. Footsteps on the gravel drive.
I wheeled around to see Carly Beth and her friend Sabrina Mason hurrying across the lawn, heading toward the house.
I recognized Carly Beth’s duck costume. She wore it every year. Except for last Halloween, when she wore that terrifying mask.
Sabrina was some kind of superhero. She wore silvery tights and a long silvery cape. She had a silvery mask pulled over her face, but I recognized her long, black hair.
“Carly Beth—!” I tried to shout. But her name came out in a choked whisper.
She and Sabrina kept chattering excitedly as they hurried across the lawn.
“Carly Beth—! Please!” I cried.
Halfway to the house, they both turned. They saw me.
Yes!
“Carly Beth—” I cried.
She pulled off her duck mask and took a few steps toward the driveway. She squinted hard at me. “Who are you?”
“It’s me!” I cried weakly. “I—”
“Are you the man who tried to call me earlier?” she demanded coldly.
“Well… yes,” I croaked. “You see, I need—”
“Well, leave me alone!” Carly Beth screamed. “Why are you following me? Leave me alone, or I’ll get my father!”
“But—but—but—” I sputtered helplessly.
The two girls spun away and began jogging to the house.
Leaving me standing there in the driveway.
Leaving me all alone.
Leaving me doomed.
22
I let out a bitter wail. “Carly Beth—it’s me! It’s me! Steve!” I cried. “Steve Boswell!”
Did she hear me?
Yes.
She and Sabrina had stepped onto the stone walk that led to the front porch. In the square of yellow light from the porch, I saw them both turn around.
“It’s Steve! It’s Steve!” I repeated, my throat aching from my desperate cries.
Slowly, cautiously, both girls made their way back to me.
“Steve?” Carly Beth stared hard at me, her mouth falling open.
“Is that a mask?” Sabrina demanded, keeping close to Carly Beth.
“Yes, it’s a mask,” I croaked.
“Yuck. It’s disgusting!” Sabrina declared. She pulled off her silver mask to see better. “Are those spiders? Yuck!”
“I need help,” I confessed. “This mask—”
“You went to the party store!” Carly Beth cried. The duck mask fell to the ground. She raised both hands to the sides of her face. “Oh, no! No! Steve, I warned you!”
“Yes. That’s where I got it,” I said, pointing to my hideous face. “I didn’t listen to you. I didn’t know.”
“Steve, I told you not to go there,” Carly Beth said, her expression still tight with horror. Hands still pressed against her cheeks.
“Now the mask won’t come off,” I wailed. “It’s stuck to me. It’s part of me. And it’s—it’s turning me into an old, old man. A feeble old man.”
Carly Beth shook her head sadly. She stared at my ugly face, but didn’t say a word.
“You’ve got to help me,” I pleaded. “You’ve got to help me get this mask off.”
Carly Beth let out a frightened sigh. “Steve—I don’t think I can.”
23
I grabbed her duck feathers and held on. “You’ve got to help me, Carly Beth,” I begged. “Why won’t you help me?”
“I want to help you,” she explained. “But I’m not sure I can.”
“But you had a mask from the same store last Halloween,” I protested. “You pulled the mask off. You escaped from it—right?”
“It can’t be pulled off,” Carly Beth said. “There’s no way to pull it off.”
Over her shoulder, I saw three kids in costumes at the next house. A woman appeared in the doorway. I saw her dropping candy bars into the three trick-or-treat bags.
Some kids are having fun tonight, I thought bitterly.
I am not having fun tonight.
I may never have fun again.
“Come into the house,” Carly Beth suggested. “It’s cold out here. I’ll try to explain.”
I tried to follow them up the driveway. But my legs wobbled like rubber. Carly Beth and Sabrina practically had to carry me into her house. They dropped me down on the green leather couch in the living room.
On a table across the room, a carved jack-o’-lantern grinned at me. The pumpkin had more teeth than I did!
Carly Beth dropped down on the couch arm. Sabrina sat on the edge of the armchair beside it. She leaned over and sifted through her trick-or-treat bag. How could she think of candy at a time like this?
I turned to Carly Beth. “How do I get the mask off?” I croaked.
Carly Beth chewed her bottom lip. She raised her eyes to me, her expression grim. “It isn’t a mask,” she said softly.
“Excuse me?” I cried.
“It isn’t a mask,” she explained. “It’s a real face. A living face. Did you meet the man in the black cape?”
I nodded.
“He’s some kind of weird scientist, I think. He made the faces. In his lab.”
“He—he made them?” I stammered.
Carly Beth nodded solemnly. “They are real, living faces. The man in the cape tried to make them good-looking. But something went wrong. They all came out ugly. As ugly as the one you’re wearing.”
“But, Carly Beth—” I started.
She raised a hand to hush me. “The caped man calls the faces The Unloved. No one wants them because they turned out so ugly. They are The Unloved. They’re alive. And they attach themselves to anyone who comes near enough.”
“But how do I get it off?” I cried impatiently. I raised my hands and tugged at my rutted, scabby cheeks. “I can’t spend the rest of my life like this. What can I do?”
Carly Beth jumped up and began pacing back and forth in front of Sabrina and me. Sabrina unwrapped a Milky Way bar and began chewing it, watching Carly Beth pace.
“The same thing happened to me last Halloween,” Carly Beth said. “I had chosen a really ugly mask. It was so scary. It attached itself to my head. And then it turned me evil.”
“And what did you do?” I cried, leaning forward on my cane.
“I went back to the party store. I found the man in the cape. He told me there w
as only one way to get rid of the mask. It could only be done with a symbol of love.”
“Huh?” I gaped at her. I didn’t understand.
“I had to find a symbol of love,” Carly Beth continued. “At first, I didn’t know what the man meant. I didn’t know what to do. But then I remembered something my mom had made for me.”
“What?” I demanded eagerly. “What was it?”
“It was that head,” Sabrina chimed in, her mouth bulging with chocolate.
“My mom had sculpted a head of me,” Carly Beth said. “It looked just like me. You’ve seen it. Mom sculpted it because she loves me. It was a symbol of love.”
Carly Beth dropped back down beside me. “I placed Mom’s sculpted head over The Unloved face. And The Unloved disappeared. The ugly face slipped right off.”
“Great!” I cried happily. “Go get it. Hurry!”
“Huh?” Carly Beth stared at me, confused.
“Go get the sculpted head,” I begged. “I’ve got to get this thing off me!”
Carly Beth shook her head. “You don’t get it, Steve. You can’t use my symbol of love. It will only work for me. You have to find your own symbol of love.”
“But maybe it won’t work for Steve’s mask,” Sabrina interrupted. “Maybe each mask is different.”
“Give me a break, Sabrina,” I muttered angrily. “It’s got to work! Don’t you understand? It’s got to!”
“You have to find your own symbol of love,” Carly Beth repeated. “Can you think of one, Steve?”
I stared back at her, thinking hard. I thought. And thought. Symbol of love… symbol of love… No. I couldn’t think of anything. Not a single thing. And then an idea popped into my mind.
24
I leaned on the cane and tried to pull myself up from the couch. But my feeble arms gave way, and I fell back into the cushion.
“You’ve got to help me get home,” I told Carly Beth. “I thought of a symbol of love. It’s at my house.”
“Okay. Let’s go!” she replied.
“But what about the kids coming over here?” Sabrina asked, swallowing a chunk of Milky Way. “What about the party?”