Ghosts Don't Ride Bikes, Do They?
Page 2
Back in my garage, Desmond studied my bike. I was wiping mud off my arms with a towel because there was no way I was going to take another cold shower. I’d rather be muddy and stinky.
Zax floated in looking for the toolbox again. He grabbed a wrench.
“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re up to, Zax?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise,” he said. Then he floated back inside through the open door.
Desmond and I glanced at each other. We knew what we had to do.
We followed Zax and pressed up against the wall like spies. He went down to the basement and floated to the water heater. Desmond and I hid behind him on the dark stairs and watched.
Zax used the wrench to unscrew something.
Suddenly, I felt the icy chill of the truth. Zax definitely broke the water heater!
Before I could do anything, Zax said, “You guys can come out now. You’re not very good at hiding.”
Desmond and I stood up slowly.
“Did you break our water heater?” I asked. “I have been taking cold showers, you know!”
Zax put down the wrench. “I didn’t break the water heater. I just fixed it.”
“Fixed it?” I said. Then I turned to Desmond and asked, “Do ghosts fix stuff?”
Desmond shrugged like he had no idea.
Zax nodded. “Ghosts love to fix stuff. People hear clanging sounds and think we’re haunting places, but that’s just us fixing things. I love when everything runs smoothly.”
“Wow,” said Desmond. “I did not know that.”
I couldn’t believe it. Something Desmond Cole didn’t know about ghosts? Now I’d heard it all.
“I need to go write this down in my ghost notebook,” said Desmond as he took off up the stairs. “Thanks, Zax! And, Andres, please go take a shower. I didn’t want to say anything, but you kinda smell.”
“Oh yeah, ghosts can smell, too,” admitted Zax as he held his nose. “Can you please go take a long shower?”
I laughed because he didn’t have to tell me twice.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A NEW CASE
The next day after school, Desmond and I were still talking about Zax.
“Ghosts still surprise me,” said Desmond. “They’re always up to something new.”
That was when a few of the kids from the bike park ran up to me. It was the first time I had seen them without their bikes.
“Andres!” exclaimed one of the girls. “You have to help us!”
“Yeah,” another kid said. “Our bikes have been stolen. We think that ghost did it.”
Desmond stepped in. “Hold on, everybody. Ghosts don’t steal. At least, I don’t think they steal.”
I wasn’t so sure. “This could be another ghost secret,” I whispered to Desmond. “What if Kicker really wanted to steal all our bikes?”
That’s when we heard the screams.
We ran over to the bike rack, where more kids were yelling. Only, the rack was practically empty, and most of the bikes were now riding away on their own!
They looked like runaway shopping carts rolling down the street. And my bike was there too!
Desmond and I took off chasing after the bikes, but they were fast.
“It’s no use,” said Desmond, who was breathing hard from running. “We’ll never catch them on foot.”
He ran back and found a little girl with a purple bike. It had handlebars with pink and purple tassels.
“Can I please borrow your bike and your helmet?” Desmond asked.
“Sure,” the girl said.
Desmond hopped on the little bike. And that’s when things got really weird!
CHAPTER NINE
DESMOND’S DARING RUN
As the bikes rode down the hill, Desmond chased after them. He pedaled so fast that the little bike wobbled from side to side.
I figured one thing out right away: Desmond Cole did not know how to ride a bike.
It was a good thing he had training wheels!
As he picked up speed, the pink and purple tassels blew in the breeze. I tried to run after him, but he was too fast.
I lost him after they reached the forest. It seemed like the stolen bikes were heading straight for the bike park on the other side.
What happened next? I couldn’t tell you because I wasn’t there.
But Desmond was. And this is what he told me:
Chasing after those bikes was the scariest thing he’d ever done.
“STOP! PLEASE! STOP!” he yelled, holding on to the bike for dear life. He was going so fast that the training wheels started to smoke!
The bikes ahead of him turned onto a trail that led straight to the bike park. Desmond watched as the stolen bikes swerved and hopped over a fallen branch.
Then he remembered the bunny hop trick, so he tried it.
And it worked! That tiny bike made it over the branch! Desmond turned and followed the bikes, which were already at the start of the track.
By now, one thing was clear to Desmond. He was going to have to ride the racetrack!
He held his breath as he drove down the first hill. Clouds of dirt kicked up from the bikes. Desmond was covered in dust. He must have looked ridiculous, riding the track on a bike with training wheels and tassels!
But if you were the only kid in town who knew how to investigate ghosts, then you probably got used to doing ridiculous things.
As he raced around the track, every bike in front of him fell over, one after another. Even with all the crashing, he kept his focus on the first stolen bike.
Which was my bike!
Desmond had almost reached my bike when it crashed. He tried to stop, but it was too late. Desmond was going up the Kicker.
His wheels blazed like a mini-rocket launched into orbit! The tassels on the handlebars fluttered like tiny hands reaching for help. And Desmond . . . well, Desmond was screaming his head off.
There was no way Desmond could land the Kicker.
Desmond held on to the bike and prepared to hit the ground hard. But something froze him in midair. Desmond hovered above the ramp, and then he floated safely to the ground.
I might not have believed that part if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.
When the other kids made it to the park, they started screaming. All their bikes were scattered on the track, totally destroyed. Mine, too. Broken frames, busted wheels—the place looked like a bike graveyard.
Then Kicker the ghost appeared. He had saved Desmond.
“I was hoping you would catch me,” Desmond told Kicker.
“Happy to help,” Kicker said.
I ran down to join them. “Kicker, did you steal our bikes?”
“It wasn’t Kicker,” said Desmond. “Will the real ghost thief please appear?”
With a bright shimmer, another ghost formed in front of us.
“Who are you?” Desmond asked.
“I’m Hal,” he said. “I took your bikes.”
All the kids started booing him.
“I was going to give them back,” Hal said. “I only took the bikes that needed a tune-up.”
Oh boy, I thought. Another ghost who likes to fix things!
Desmond quieted the crowd to let Hal explain himself.
The ghost took off his hat and put it over where his ghost heart might be. “You kids were riding on bikes with tires that need air, chains that are too tight, and handlebars that are too loose. It was driving me crazy! I had to do something to make it better.”
Someone in the crowd yelled, “So what are we going to do now? All our bikes are ruined!”
Desmond and I looked at each other, because we had an idea that everyone would love.
CHAPTER TEN
HAL THE BIKE HEALER
Here’s a secret: Not all ghost secrets are bad.
I mean, take Hal for example. All he wants to do is fix broken bikes. Now that’s exactly what he does! He fixed every single bike that day, even mine.
He does good work
, too. In fact, he got rid of my dents and repainted the frame. I don’t even need that electrical tape on the seat anymore. My bike is like new.
Hal is such a good mechanic that Desmond and I helped him set up his own repair shop at the bike park. He gives free tune-ups, and he’s right there to fix our bikes whenever we crash.
Oh, and as for Kicker, it turns out he’s a great bike-riding instructor. Right now, he’s working with one of his most challenging students ever: Desmond Cole.
At least whenever Desmond falls, Kicker is right there for him.
Maybe this Ghost Patrol thing is like riding a bike: Once you learn how to do it, you never forget.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR AND ILLUSTRATOR
Andres Miedoso is still afraid of everything as a grown-up, even after all his adventures with Desmond Cole. He lives in New York City with his family, and he remains very close friends with Desmond but returns to Kersville only when he’s needed.
Victor Rivas was born and raised in Vigo, Spain, and he lives outside of Barcelona. He has been a freelance illustrator for thirty years, illustrating children’s and teen books, concept art for multimedia and animation, and comics.
Little Simon
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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First Little Simon paperback edition December 2017
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Designed by Steve Scott
Jacket illustrations by Victor Rivas
This book has been cataloged with the Library of Congress.
ISBN 978-1-5344-1041-1 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-5344-1042-8 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-5344-1043-5 (eBook)