10
Well, that is just about the end of the story. Stan was buried in the tiny cemetery next to the other two graves. The wreckers left and didn’t come back. Their union said that the men would not work on the island. They said it was too dangerous.
I was made lighthouse keeper. I have been here for a year now. I love the island; I hope I can always stay here. But it gets very lonely. I often wish that Stan was still alive.
Last night something happened. Something good. It was Friday. I was just closing my eyes when I thought I heard music. It was coming from the lighthouse. I jumped out of bed and ran as fast as I could. I stopped when I reached the music-room door. It was a saxophone and a clarinet. But something was different. I pushed open the door a tiny bit and peeped in. The clarinet and the saxophone were floating in the air as usual. But there was another instrument as well. It was a violin. It looked as if it was playing itself. But I knew that Stan was playing it. There were three ghosts now.
I smiled to myself and closed the door. As I walked back down the stairs I hummed a tune to myself. I knew the song well. It was ‘Happy Days Are Here Again’.
‘What did you get?’ asked my sister Mary, looking at the video cassette in my hand.
‘Chainsaw Murder,’ I answered.
‘You ratbag,’ she screamed. ‘You promised you would get something nice. You know I can’t stand those horrible shows. I’m not watching some terrible movie about people getting cut up with chainsaws. And it was my turn. It was my turn to choose. You said you would get a love story if I let you choose.’
‘It is a love story,’ I told her. ‘It’s about a bloke who cuts up the girl he loves with a ch—’
‘Don’t give me that,’ she butted in. ‘It’s another of those bloodthirsty, spooky, scary, horror shows. You know I can’t watch them. You know I can’t sleep for weeks after I see one of them.’ Her voice was getting louder and louder and fake tears started rolling down her face. She was hoping that Mum would hear her and come and tell me off.
‘It’s no use yelling,’ I said. ‘Mum and Dad are out. They won’t be back until two o’clock in the morning. They’ve gone out to the movies.’
‘I’ll get you for this,’ she said in a real mean voice. ‘You just wait.’ She went out of the room and slammed the door behind her. What a sister. Mary was the biggest sook I had ever met. If the slightest scary thing came on the screen she would close her eyes and cover up her ears. She just couldn’t take it. Not like me. I wasn’t scared of anything. The creepier the show, the better I liked it. I wouldn’t even have been scared if I met a real ghost. Things like that just make me laugh.
I put the cassette into the video player and sat down to enjoy the show. It was even better than I expected. It started off looking through a window at a bloke starting up a chainsaw. Suddenly the window was spattered in blood and you couldn’t see through it. The whole movie was filled with dead bodies, skeletons coming up out of graves, ghosts with no heads and people getting cut up with chainsaws. It was great. I had never had such a good laugh in all my life.
After about an hour, I started to feel hungry. I went over to the pantry and made myself a peanut butter, Vegemite, banana and pickle sandwich. I wanted to put on a bit of mustard but I couldn’t find any. While I was searching around for it I heard Mary come into the room. ‘Changed your mind?’ I asked without looking up. ‘What’s the matter? Are you scared up there all on your own in the bedroom?’
Then I heard a terrible sound. Mary had pushed the EJECT button on the video player. As quick as a flash she whipped out the cassette and ran out of the room with it. The little monster had nicked it. The terrible deed was done in a second. She was quicker than the villain in Graveyard Robber (a really good video about a freak who stole corpses). I ran up the stairs after her but I was too late. Mary slammed her bedroom door and locked it.
I banged on the door with my fists. ‘Give that tape back, you creep. It’s just up to the good bit where the maggots come out of the grave.’
‘No way,’ she said through the locked door. ‘I’m not giving it back. I can hear all the screaming and groaning and creepy music from up here and I’m scared. I’ll give you the video back if you go and change it for Love Story.’
‘Love Story!’ I shouted. ‘Never. I’m not watching that mush.’
‘I’m scared, Gordon,’ she said. ‘Please take it back.’ How pathetic. She sounded just like the helpless woman in I Married A Cannibal Chief, a ripper movie with lots of gory bits about a bloke with a big appetite.
Mary was scared because Mum and Dad were out. That give me an idea.
‘Give that tape back,’ I said. ‘Or I’m going out and leaving you here on your own.’ There was no reply. She was being really stubborn so I turned round and walked down the stairs. I was mad at her because I really wanted to see the rest of that movie.
Just as I reached the front door she appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘Come back, Gordon. I’ll be frightened here all on my own.’ I kept going. She had left it too late and it was time for her to be taught a lesson.
2
As I walked down the dark street I laughed to myself. Mary was really wet. She was scared of her own shadow. She would really be packing death alone in the house. I had a good laugh and then I started to wonder why she got so scared. I mean, I wasn’t scared of anything. I had even watched The Eyes Of The Creeping Dead without one shiver. And yet Mary, my own flesh and blood, was exactly the opposite.
I started to think about all the horror movies I had ever seen. There wasn’t one that had spooked me. Why, even if one of them had come true I wouldn’t have worried. I was so used to seeing creepy things that a real ghost wouldn’t have scared me. I would just tell it to buzz off without a second thought.
I walked past the ‘All Night Video Shop’ and down a dark lane. The moon was in and it was hard to see where I was going. Mary would have been terrified, but not me. I almost hoped that something creepy would happen. I walked on and on through the night into a new neighbourhood. The houses started to thin out until at last I was on a country track which wound its way amongst the trees.
After a short while I came to something I had not expected to find out there in the bush. A letterbox. It was old and battered and stood at the edge of the narrow track leading off into the dark trees. I decided to follow the track and see where it went.
The track led to an old tumble-down house. I could see it quite clearly because the moon had come out. Its tin roof was rusty and falling in. Blackberry bushes grew on the verandah and all of the windows were broken. The front door was hanging off its hinges so there was nothing to stop me entering. I made my way into the front room. There in one corner was an old wooden bed. It had no mattress but it was a bed all the same. I was feeling tired so I staggered over to it and lay down. I wasn’t scared. Not a bit. I decided that I would stay in this old shack and not go home until just before Mum and Dad got back. That would teach Mary a lesson.
I closed my eyes and lay there pretending I was the hero out of Dark House Of Death. I was a ghost hunter. I was invincible. Nothing could hurt me. At least that was how I was feeling at the time. That’s why I hardly batted an eyelid when the candle came floating over.
3
Yes, a candle. A lighted candle. It just floated across the room and hovered next to the bed. I did nothing. I simply gazed at it with detachment. It came closer until it was only a few centimetres from my face. I took a deep breath and blew it out. I thought I heard a gasp. Then the whole thing disappeared.
I turned over on my side and pretended to be asleep (a trick I had seen in a movie called Blood In The Attic). After a short while I heard a soft clinking sound coming from the next room. I ignored it. It grew into a rattling and then a clanking but still I took no notice. Then it became so loud it shook the floor and hurt my ears. ‘Quiet,’ I yelled. ‘Can’t a boy get a bit of sleep in here.’ The terrible din stopped at once.
I knew something el
se was going to happen and I wasn’t wrong. A moment later a green mist floated through the window and formed itself into a dim, ghostly haze that wafted to and fro across the room. ‘You shouldn’t smoke in here,’ I said. ‘You might set the place on fire.’ The mist twirled itself around into a spiral and left the room through a knothole. This was great. This was good. It was just like what happened in Spectre Of The Lost Lagoon.
What happened next was a bit more creepy. I’m not denying that, but I decided I was handling the situation the right way. Whatever or whoever it was wanted me to go screaming off into the night. I decided to keep playing it cool. A huge pair of lips appeared and started to open and shut, showing nasty, yellow teeth. Next, a pair of bloodshot eyes appeared, floating just above the lips. From out of the mouth came an enormous forked tongue, dripping with saliva. The tongue licked its lips and then wormed its way over to me.
‘Halitosis,’ I managed to say. It obviously didn’t know what halitosis was because it remained there, hovering in front of my face like a snake about to strike. ‘Bad breath,’ I translated. ‘You’ve got bad breath. Just like the giant pig in Razorback.’ I thought I heard another small sob just before the whole lot vanished. I wondered if I had hurt its feelings.
The next apparition consisted of a human skull with staring, empty eye sockets. ‘Old hat,’ I said. ‘You’ll have to do better than that.’ Blood started to drip out of one eye. ‘Still not good enough,’ I told it. ‘I saw that one in a movie called Rotting Skull.’
The other bones appeared and the whole skeleton began to dance up and down the room, twisting and turning as if to a wild beat. ‘Not very cool,’ I remarked a little unkindly. ‘That went out years ago. Can’t you do rap dancing?’
That last remark was too cutting. The spook just couldn’t take it.
The skeleton sat down on a rickety chair and changed into a small ghost. It was the figure of a punk rocker. He was completely transparent and dressed in a leather jacket which was covered in studs. He also wore tight jeans and had a safety pin through his nose. He had a closely shaved head with a pink mohawk hairdo.
4
He looked at me and then hung his head in his hands and shed a few tears. ‘It ain’t no use,’ he wailed. ‘I can’t even put the frighteners onto a school boy. I’m doomed. I’m a failure.’
‘If you will kindly go away and be quiet, I’ll leave at one o’clock,’ I told him. ‘All I want is a bit of peace.’
He shook his head. ‘You can’t go. I need you for me exam. If I pass you can clear out – if yer still alive that is. But if I fail me exam, you will have to go into suspended animation until the next one.’
‘When is that?’ I asked.
‘Same time next year.’
‘No thanks,’ I replied. ‘I have to get back to look after my little sister. She’s at home alone and she gets scared. As a matter of fact I think I’ll leave now.’ I tried to stand up but I couldn’t. It was just as if unseen hands were holding me down.
‘See,’ he said. ‘I aren’t lettin’ you go anywhere. You stay here wiv me. If I pass me exam you can go. If not – cold storage for you until next year.’ The safety pin in his nose waggled around furiously as he spoke.
I could move my mouth but nothing else. ‘I have to go,’ I told him. ‘I can’t stay here for a year. I’ve made a booking for a video called Jack The Ripper for tomorrow night.’
‘Yer better help me pass then,’ he said.
‘What do you have to do?’
‘The Senior Spook is comin’. I have to scare a victim, namely you. If it’s scary enough, he passes me. If it’s not, he fails me. But it don’t look good. You don’t scare easy. You just sit there givin’ mouthfuls o’ cheek no matter what I do. I must say it looks bad fer bof ov us. If I don’t give you a good fright I won’t pass me exam and if I don’t pass me exam we’ll bof have to stay here until the same time next year.’
‘I’ll fake it,’ I yelled. ‘I’ll pretend I’m scared. Then you’ll pass your exam and I can go.’
He shook his head sadly. ‘No good. The Senior Spook is very experienced. That’s how he got to the top. He can pick up vibes. He’ll know if you’re not really scared.’
‘Let me loose,’ I requested. ‘I will help you think of something. You could try something out of Terror At Midnight.’
‘Yer won’t nick orf, will ya?’ he said looking at me suspiciously.
‘I promise.’
The unseen hands released me and I started to pace around the room. I thought of Mary. She would be frightened for sure, but there was no way that this little punk ghost would be able to scare me.
‘Have you seen the movie Night Freak?’ I said. ‘That had some good ideas in it.’
‘No, I missed that one,’ he said. ‘Now quick, sit on the bed. Here comes the Boss. Our exam is about to begin.’
***
5
I sat down where I was told and the Senior Spook floated through the wall. He was dressed in a pinstriped suit, white shirt and black tie. He carried a black leather briefcase in his left hand and wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. I could see right through him. He took no notice of me at all and not much more of the punk spook. He sat down on a chair, opened his case and took out a biro and a notebook. Then he looked at his watch and said to the punk, ‘You have ten minutes. Proceed.’
I could tell that the punk was nervous. He really wanted to pass this exam, and to do that he had to give me a good fright. But I wasn’t scared. Not a bit. All those years of watching horror videos made this seem like child’s play. I was worried though because I didn’t want to be put into cold storage until the same time next year when the punk could have his next exam in spooking. I tried to feel scared but I just couldn’t.
The punk produced a tennis ball from nowhere and placed it on the table. Then he sprinkled some pink powder on it and said, ‘Inside out, ker-proffle.’ The tennis ball started to squirm on the table. A small split appeared and it turned inside out. Very impressive but not very spooky. My pulse didn’t increase a jot. I could just see myself frozen for a year waiting for the punk to have his next chance. I groaned inside. My punk friend was going to have to do better than this. He had no imagination at all.
Next he produced a small sausage. He sprinkled some of the pink powder on it and again said, ‘Inside out, ker-proffle.’ The sausage split along its side as if it was on a hot barbecue. Then it turned inside out with all the meat hanging out and the skin on the inside. The senior spook wrote something in his notebook.
This wasn’t good enough. It just wasn’t good enough. It was more like conjuring tricks than horror. I wasn’t the least bit scared. My heart sank.
The punk then produced a watermelon from nowhere. Once again he sprinkled on the pink powder. ‘Inside out, ker-proffle,’ he said. The watermelon turned inside out with all of the fruit and the pips hanging off it. Once again the big shot wrote something in his notebook.
The punk looked at me. Then, without warning he threw some pink powder all over me and said, ‘Inside out, ker—’
‘Stop,’ screamed the Senior Spook. Then he fainted dead away. He must have hit the floor a fraction before I did. Being a ghost he didn’t hurt himself when he went down. I must have hit my head on the table just after I fainted. I didn’t wake up for about half an hour.
When I woke up I looked around but the house was deserted. I couldn’t find a sign of either of them except for something written in the dust on a mirror. It said, ‘I got an A plus.’
I don’t know how I managed to find my way back. I was so scared that my knees knocked. I jumped at every sound.
When I reached home I went to bed because Mary was watching a really creepy movie.
It was called The Great Muppet Caper.
The twins sat on the beach throwing bits of their lunch to the seagulls.
‘I don’t like telling a lie to Grandma,’ said Tracy. ‘It wouldn’t be fair. She has looked after us since Mum and Dad died. We w
ould be in a children’s home if it wasn’t for her.’
Gemma sighed. ‘We won’t be hurting Grandma. We will be doing her a favour. If we find Dad’s rubies we can sell them for a lot of money. Then we can fix up Seagull Shack and give Grandma a bit of cash as well.’
‘Why don’t you wait until we are eighteen? Dad’s will says that we will own Seagull Shack then. We can even go and live there if you want to,’ replied Tracy.
Gemma started to get cross. ‘I’ve told you a million times. We won’t be eighteen for another three years. The last person who hiked in to Seagull Shack said that it was falling to pieces. If we wait that long the place will be blown off the cliff or wrecked by vandals. Then we’ll never find the rubies. They are inside that shack. I’m sure Dad hid them inside before he died.’
Tracy threw another crust to the seagulls. ‘Well, what are you going to tell Grandma, then?’
‘We tell her that we are staying at Surfside One camping ground for the night. Then we set out for Seagull Shack by hiking along the cliffs. If we leave in the morning we can get there in the afternoon. We spend the night searching the house for the rubies. If we find them, Grandma will have a bit of money in the bank and we can send in some builders by boat to fix up Seagull Shack.’
‘Listen,’ said Tracy to her sister. ‘What makes you think we are going to find the rubies? The place was searched and searched after Dad died and neither of them was found.’
‘Yes, but it wasn’t searched by us. We know every corner of that shack. And we knew Dad. We know how his mind worked. We can search in places no one else would think of. I think I know where they are anyway. I have an idea. I think Dad hid them in the stuffed seagull. I had a dream about it.’
Paul Jenning's Spookiest Stories Page 5