The Ghost of Slappy

by R. L. Stine

  “Did he run off? Is he in the woods? Waiting for us to go to sleep?”

  “I’ll never be able to sleep. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “He’s just a dummy. What can he do to us?” Carlos said to me.

  “Hanson said he has evil powers,” I said. “He … he could turn us all into wooden dummies!”

  Carlos laughed. “You’ve seen too many horror movies.”

  “It isn’t funny,” I insisted. “If there’s an evil dummy on the loose somewhere out there, we’re definitely not safe.” A shiver shook my whole body. I was scaring myself with my own words.

  We all got silent as Hanson came bursting from the tent. Even from a distance, I could see the wild look on his face. He swept a hand tensely back over his hair. He spun slowly, peering into the trees all around.

  “Slappy!” Hanson shouted at the top of his lungs. “Slappy! Are you out there?” His voice echoed off the trees.

  No reply.

  “Slappy—I know you’re out there!” The teacher was trying to sound angry. But I could hear the fear in his voice. “Slappy—you can’t get far! Come back here!”

  Silence. The only sound was the crack and snap of the fire.

  Hanson appeared to stagger as he walked back to us. His eyes were wide, and he kept shaking his head.

  I saw Trevor standing back by the tent. His hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets. He gazed into the trees, then slowly made his way back to the fire.

  “Mr. Hanson, can we leave?” Maryjane asked. “Can we go home now? I … I don’t feel safe.”

  A lot of others chimed in, all agreeing with Maryjane.

  Hanson sighed. “We can’t go home. The bus isn’t coming to pick us up until tomorrow morning.”

  A lot of groans and moans. I squeezed my lucky silver charm tightly. I knew we all needed good luck.

  Hanson shook his head again. “I just don’t get it. I put him to sleep. You saw me. There’s no way he could wake himself up.”

  “What can he do to us?” I blurted out. “Can he hurt us?”

  “I don’t know,” Hanson replied, his face twisted in confusion. “I should have read more about him. I don’t know what he can do.”

  He began pacing back and forth, taking long strides. He was muttering to himself, his lips moving. I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  I turned to Carlos. “This is bad. Are you as scared as I am?”

  He shrugged and kept his gaze on the fire.

  “Mr. Hanson, can’t we call for help?” Courtney asked.

  Hanson stopped pacing. “I tried my phone. There are no cell towers out here. We can’t make calls.”

  That got everyone moaning and murmuring.

  I shivered again. I thought I saw something moving in the trees. But it was just low branches, shaking in the wind. “So what are we going to do?” I asked.

  Hanson dropped back onto the ground. The fire had started to die. The flames were low and silent. “I’ll keep guard all night,” he said. “I’ll stay awake. You will all be safe in your tents. If Slappy returns, I’ll deal with him.”

  “You’ll stay awake all night?” someone asked. “Are you sure—”

  “I’ve done it lots of times,” Hanson said. “It’s not a problem. I’ll stay alert.” He thought for a moment. “But tell you what … If I feel myself getting drowsy, I’ll wake up one of you. And we’ll stand guard together.”

  It seemed like a plan.

  So that’s what we did. We helped build the fire high again. Then we left Hanson sitting there and hurried into our tents.

  The ground was soft and damp now from the dew. And the air in the tent felt damp and nearly as cold as outside.

  Carlos and I took off our coats but left our clothes on. We burrowed deep into our sleeping bags. I tried to pull mine over my head. But I was too tall. I rested my head on my duffel bag.

  “Think we can get to sleep?” I asked Carlos.

  He didn’t answer. I turned and saw that his eyes were closed and his mouth hung open. He was already asleep. Amazing.

  I felt wide awake. My heart was pumping hard in my chest. I kept picturing the dummy … driving the bus … laughing that hideous laugh … kicking and squirming after Hanson picked him up.

  I yawned. I was totally exhausted. But how could I stop thinking about the evil dummy? How could I ever get to sleep knowing that he was out there?

  I was alert to every sound, every brush of wind, the creaking of the bare tree branches all around us, the crack of the fire.

  I closed my eyes. I tried to shut my mind, push everything away, become a blank sheet of paper.

  I guess I finally drifted off into a restless sleep. I was aware of trying to roll over inside the sleeping bag. I don’t know how long I slept. But I awoke with a startled cry. It took a few seconds to remember where I was.

  I rubbed my face. It felt cold and wet. I turned and saw that Carlos was still asleep.

  Now fully awake, I slid out of the warmth of the sleeping bag, into the cold air. I crawled to the tent flap and pushed it open. The sky was still black. I guessed I hadn’t slept for long.

  The fire was low. Just a few licks of purple flames.

  I climbed to my feet and stepped out. I gasped when I saw Hanson sitting in front of the fire. He was lit by the dull flicker of the dying flames. His body was slumped and his head was down.

  My heart pounding, I tugged on my sneakers. I didn’t bother to tie them. I took off, running to Hanson. My shoes pounded the frosty ground. I stopped a few yards behind him. I could hear him snoring.

  Hanson was sound asleep.

  I stood and stared at him for a long moment. Then I peered into the woods. No sign of the evil dummy.

  What should I do? My mind raced with ideas.

  I was wide awake. I could stand guard till Hanson woke up.

  A lot of kids called me a wimp because I hate being outdoors and I hate long hikes and overnights. This would prove to them that I’m a take-charge guy.

  Maybe Maryjane Dewey would notice me.

  I realized I was shaking. I needed my parka and hood. I spun around, my shoes slipping on the frosted ground. I began to run back to my tent.

  I was just a few yards away when I heard the footsteps.

  I stopped with a gasp. And listened.

  A soft thump. Then another.

  From behind my tent. Coming closer.

  I held my breath. I stared into the darkness.

  I couldn’t see anything. But I heard them. I wasn’t imagining it.

  I heard the soft, steady thump of approaching footsteps.

  I froze. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

  The dummy waited till the middle of the night to return, I thought.

  NOW what does it plan to do?

  I heard another soft thump. Closer.

  I sucked in a deep breath. I turned back toward Hanson and opened my mouth to scream.

  But only a choking cough escaped my throat.

  With a shudder, I spun back. And saw it.

  It stepped out from behind my tent.

  The biggest rabbit I’ve ever seen.

  Standing upright. Hopping on two legs. Its ears standing tall.

  Thump thump.

  “Oh, wow.” I dropped to my knees. “Oh, wow. I’m an idiot.”

  The rabbit winked, as if agreeing with me.

  “Everyone okay?” Hanson asked as we gathered the next morning. “No problems last night?”

  No one had any problems.

  Carlos yawned and stretched. “Did you sleep?” he asked me.

  I shook my head. “Not much.” No way I was going to tell him about my scary bunny incident. I knew he would laugh for half an hour.

  “The dummy is probably miles from here by now,” Hanson said. He scratched his head, which made his hair stand out in clumps. “But just in case … As you pack up, keep an eye out for him.”

  We had a fast breakfast of cold Corn Flakes and an energy bar. Carlos
had a bag of candy corn, so we had that for dessert. Then we packed up our stuff as if we were all on fast-forward. I don’t think anyone ever packed up a campsite faster.

  We had a different bus driver on the way back. I told Carlos, “I’ll bet that other driver was so freaked by the dummy, she ripped up her driver’s license.”

  “She’s not the only one who’s freaked,” Carlos said. “We all are.”

  He was right. The bus was nearly silent the whole way back to town. No one felt like talking. Hanson sat in the front seat with his head lowered, his face buried in his hands.

  As we neared the first stop—Dawn’s house—he stood up. He gazed down the long row of silent kids. “I’m totally puzzled,” he said. “I don’t know what to tell you. If you want to tell your parents what happened …”

  He rubbed his face. “… It will cause a big fuss,” he continued. “I know I’m going to be in a lot of trouble. And I guess I deserve it for bringing that dummy in the first place.”

  He paused for a moment. The bus lurched to a stop, and he nearly fell over.

  “I want to warn you that your parents may not believe you,” he continued. “I mean, who would believe it? But it’s completely up to you if you want to tell your parents about Slappy or not.”

  He stood holding on to the pole. I could see that he was thinking hard. “I do know one thing for sure,” he said finally. “That dummy is long gone. We will never see him again.”

  * * *

  “How was it?” Mom asked. She greeted me at the door. She wanted to hug me, but I was lugging all my stuff.

  I dragged my duffel and sleeping bag into the house and dropped them in the front entryway. Then I had my hug with Mom.

  “Did you have fun?” Dad asked, walking into the living room from the kitchen. He was drying his hands on a dish towel.

  Both of my parents work at home. So I always see both of them all the time.

  “Fun? Not really,” I said. “It was … weird.”

  “Weird? What do you mean weird?” Dad demanded.

  “Were you cold all night?” Mom asked.

  “Cold wasn’t the problem,” I said. “It’s … kind of a long story.”

  You see, an evil ventriloquist dummy came to life, nearly crashed our school bus, then ran off into the woods.

  If I said that, Mom and Dad would laugh. They’d think I was joking. They’d ask me what really happened.

  I picked up the duffel and tucked the rolled-up sleeping bag under one arm. “Let me unpack,” I told them. “Then I’ll come down and tell you the whole story.”

  Yes, I was stalling for time.

  But what would you do?

  Mom followed me to the stairs. “Do you want help unpacking?”

  “No. I can handle it,” I said. “No problem. I’ll be down in five minutes.”

  “I’m making tomato soup for lunch,” Dad said. He’s the cook in the family. “Do you want a sandwich with it?”

  I shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not that hungry.”

  You see, I was up all night scared out of my mind. And it kind of took away my appetite.

  I dragged my stuff up the stairs. My duffel felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds. Did I really pack so much for one night?

  I stepped into my room, when I remembered that the sleeping bag went down in the basement. I decided to take it down later. I didn’t want to think about the basement right now. I didn’t want to think about the ghost waiting for me down there.

  My brain was whirring about how to explain to my parents why the overnight was weird. “You probably won’t believe this, but …”

  I heaved the duffel bag onto my bed and unzipped it. I had emptied half of my dresser into it, and of course I didn’t need any of the stuff I brought. I never changed my clothes.

  I pulled out the pair of jeans I’d packed, two sweatshirts, two pairs of socks, a spare hoodie … I grabbed them from the duffel and tossed them in a pile on the bed.

  Then I peered into the bag to see if I’d gotten everything. And I let out a cry. And froze …

  As I stared at Slappy the dummy grinning up at me.

  His eyes were locked in a glassy stare. His mouth gaped open in a frozen grin. The dummy was folded in half, its legs tucked beneath it.

  My heart started to pound. I kept blinking, expecting it to vanish, just an example of my imagination gone berserk.

  But no. The dummy was tucked into the bottom of my duffel. I took a deep breath and lifted it out.

  My whole body was tense. I expected Slappy to kick or twist or swing his arms. But the arms and legs dangled limply at his sides. The eyes closed as I raised him in front of me. His mouth hung open lifelessly.

  “You’re not awake,” I said out loud. “Tell me. You’re not awake—right?” I shook it. Shook it hard.

  The head bounced back. The arms and legs hung loosely.

  “Are you pretending to be asleep?” I demanded.

  I shook the dummy as hard as I could.

  And a folded-up sheet of yellow paper fell from inside its jacket and fluttered to the floor.

  “Whoa.” I lowered the dummy to the bed. Then bent to pick up the piece of paper. My hands trembled as I unfolded it. Was this the secret words to bring Slappy to life?

  No.

  It was a message. Written in red marker:

  HERE’S YOUR NEW BEST FRIEND. HAVE FUN WITH HIM.

  I didn’t have to guess about who wrote the note. And gazing at it, reading it a second and third time, I knew who had tucked the dummy into the bottom of my duffel.

  Trevor Pincus.

  My enemy.

  I knew his handwriting. This wasn’t the first note I ever got from Trevor. But so far it was the most frightening.

  Last night, Hanson sent Trevor to his tent to get Slappy. Now I knew what took him so long. Trevor took the dummy from Hanson’s tent and stuffed it into my bag. Then he came out and yelled to everyone, “IT’S GONE!”

  Just the kind of mean trick an enemy would pull.

  I crumpled the note and tossed it to the floor. I turned back to the dummy. “Are you pretending to be asleep? Are you saving your evil plans for later?”

  I knew I couldn’t keep it here. Trevor knew I’d be terrified to have it in my house. And who wouldn’t be?

  I had to get rid of it. Maybe sneak it into Trevor’s house? No. That would just start a dummy-trading war. I needed to get it out of the house for good.

  Return it to Hanson?

  That seemed like a plan. But I didn’t want Hanson to think I stole it.

  I stood there gaping at the dummy in my bed. Mom’s voice floated up from downstairs. “Shep? What’s taking so long? Lunchtime. Soup’s on.”

  “I … I’ll be down in two minutes,” I called.

  I grabbed the dummy off the bed, darted across my room, and heaved it to the back of my clothes closet. I slammed the closet door shut.

  “Well, hurry up,” she called. “Your soup is getting cold.”

  Cold soup wasn’t my biggest problem. I kept my eyes on the closet door. I pictured it bursting open and the dummy leaping out to attack me.

  I fumbled my phone out of my pocket. Almost out of power. I texted Carlos: ARE YOU THERE? NEED YOU TO COME OVER. FAST.

  Carlos was a lot calmer than me. He’d help me figure out how to return it to Hanson without getting into trouble.

  The phone trembled in my hand. I kept glancing at the closet door, then staring at the phone. “Carlos—where are you?”

  “Shep! Come downstairs—now!” Mom shouted from downstairs.

  “Coming! Be right there!” I called.

  My phone made a ding sound. A text popped up on my screen. I squinted at it—and gasped.

  * * *

  I’M READY TO PLAY, SHEP. ARE YOU READY TO PLAY? Slappy

  I swallowed hard. This can’t be happening.

  It took me a few seconds to get it together and realize that Slappy the dummy hadn’t texted me from the closet.

&nbs
p; Trevor had sent the text.

  What a fun guy.

  I let out an angry cry and started to text him back. But I stopped after the first sentence.

  “I’m not going to answer. I’m going to ignore you, Trevor,” I said out loud. “I’m not going to play your game.”

  I started to click off the message screen. But the phone chimed again and another text appeared. This one from Carlos: CAN’T COME TILL AFTER DINNER

  I sighed, disappointed. I wanted to get rid of Slappy immediately. But I figured I could wait till later. I took one more hard look at the closet door. All was still and quiet. So I hurried downstairs for my tomato soup.

  “Well, tell us about the overnight,” Mom said as I took my place at the table. “What was so weird about it?”

  “Well … to begin with, we had bus trouble,” I said. “I think the driver was crazy or something. We almost crashed a few times.”

  I’d decided not to tell them about Slappy. Mr. Hanson was probably right. They wouldn’t believe me anyway. Plus, they never believed my stories about Annalee. Our house is totally haunted, and they refuse to even think about it. So they would never believe this. Anyway, I planned to have Slappy out of the house and gone forever that night. So they never needed to know about him.

  The soup was good. I told them a few things about the overnight. Told them about the big rabbit that almost invaded our tent. Nothing too interesting.

  After lunch, you can imagine how long the afternoon felt. I tried to read some of my English assignment, but the text was just a blur. And the algebra worksheet looked like a bunch of strange numbers and letters to me.

  I just couldn’t think straight. I stayed in my room because I wanted to keep guard over the closet. But I probably should have gotten out of there so that I could clear my mind.

  When Patti came home, she wanted to play this bubble-bursting video game that she loves. So I played with her for a while. I thought it might take my mind off the dummy in the closet. But Patti is too good at the game, and I ended up just watching her blast and burst all the bubbles. I hardly got a turn.

  At dinner, Patti teased me about the overnight. “Did you see any ghosts, Shep? Was your tent haunted?”

  “Yeah. Carlos and I stayed up all night, playing hide-n-seek in the woods with a bunch of ghosts,” I said. “They were real good at hiding.”