The Scream of the Haunted Mask

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The Scream of the Haunted Mask Page 5

by R. L. Stine

“Don’t get violent,” I said.

  “Are you joking? You’re telling the Hulk not to get violent?”

  He let out a roar and tackled me around the waist. We both fell to the floor, laughing. Roaring some more, he tried to pin my arms to the rug.

  “Carly Beth? What’s going on up there?” Mom shouted from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m getting really angry. Are you coming down for your dinner or what?”

  “Coming!” I called, pushing the Incredible Hulk off me. “Be right down!”

  I checked my room. I just wanted to make sure the Haunted Mask wasn’t hiding there, waiting for me.

  Then I hurried down for dinner.

  I didn’t have much of an appetite. I was too stressed. I knew I’d be seeing that mask again soon.

  And what would I do when I saw it?

  What would I do?

  On Halloween night, Sabrina and I jogged up the gravel path to the farmhouse. We were both dressed as clowns. We had painted our faces white. We wore ruffly pink clown collars around our necks. And red rubber clown noses pinched onto our faces.

  Bright yellow light poured from all the windows. I could hear shouts and music and kids laughing.

  We pulled open the front door, and Laura came hurrying over to us. She was wearing a silvery princess dress. Her face was red and her hair was wild around her face.

  “Get in here!” she cried breathlessly. She pulled me in by my coat. “I’m so glad to see you. Where have you been?”

  “We waited an hour for the bus,” I said. “I’m so sorry we’re late.”

  Laura sighed. “I’m sorry, too,” she said. “The kids are totally wild tonight. They’re all going ballistic. It’s like I have eight Jesses!”

  “We’ll try to calm them down,” Sabrina said.

  “Look at my princess costume,” Laura said. She pointed to the front of her skirt. “Angela spit up orange juice on my dress.”

  “Angela the perfect angel?” I said.

  “Angela isn’t an angel tonight,” Laura grumbled.

  Sabrina and I tossed off our coats and followed Laura into the playroom. We had strung orange and black streamers over the walls and ceiling.

  I saw Jesse pulling streamers down. He carried a long black streamer over to Colin and used it to tie Colin’s hands behind his back.

  Colin struggled to free himself and knocked over a plate of cookies. The two boys started wrestling on the floor.

  Two other boys were popping the orange and black balloons that had been strung up. Debra was hunched in the corner, wailing. “I want to go home! I don’t LIKE Halloween!”

  “Looks like a good party,” Sabrina joked.

  Laura rolled her eyes. “Let’s split up,” she said. “We’re outnumbered, but we can handle them.”

  It took a while to get them sitting down. Then Laura taught them a spooky Halloween song I’d never heard before. It had a lot of creepy OOOOOH OOOOOH OOOOHs in it, which the kids loved.

  Then I suggested the kids make up their own scary ghost story. But they started Ooooh oooh ooohing around the room. And Jesse found some Gummi Worms, which he tried to stuff down the back of Harmony’s witch costume.

  “I was planning to show them how to carve a jack-o’-lantern,” Laura said. “But no way I’m taking out any knives with this group tonight!”

  “They’re totally wired,” I said. “But they’ve been eating Halloween candy all day.”

  Another balloon popped. Debra started crying again.

  That’s when Mrs. Lange swept into the room. She wore a witch’s costume with a long black dress and pointed black hat. She had a black mask pulled down over her eyes and carried an old-fashioned straw broom.

  She tossed back her head and cackled. A pretty good witch’s cackle. It got the kids’ attention.

  “Let’s pick up these spilled cookies,” she said, pointing to the floor. “Or else I’ll put a spell on y’all and turn you into disgusting spiders!” She cackled again.

  Several kids dove to the floor and started to collect the spilled cookies.

  “Laura, didn’t you want to help these children make their own masks?” Mrs. Lange said. She started to carry art supplies to the table. “Let’s get started. They can make masks out of these paper bags. I want to see the scariest masks ever!”

  The kids didn’t pay much attention to her. They were running around the room, pulling down streamers, tossing apples at each other, looking for Halloween candy.

  I let out a sigh. I thought this would be a fun way to celebrate Halloween. But the kids weren’t cooperating. And I couldn’t really concentrate anyway.

  I kept gazing around the room. How could I enjoy the Halloween party? I couldn’t get the Haunted Mask out of my mind.

  “Carly Beth?”

  It took me a few moments to realize Mrs. Lange was calling me. I shook my head hard, shaking away my scary thoughts. “Yes?”

  “Would you go to my office?” Mrs. Lange asked. “I left a box of markers on my desk. They’ll be perfect for mask making.”

  “No problem,” I said. I left the playroom and made my way down the long front hall. My shoes clunked on the hardwood floors.

  I passed a music room with an old piano pushed against one wall. Then a small bedroom with a painting of racing horses above the bed.

  Mrs. Lange’s office was the last room at the end. I stepped inside and clicked on the ceiling light.

  The window was open. The pale yellow curtains fluttered into the room like ghosts.

  Her computer was on, a photo of a grinning Labrador retriever on the monitor. Her desk was piled high with magazines and papers and a tall stack of books.

  I bent over the desk, searching for the box of markers.

  A book in the corner caught my eye. It was an old book with a ragged gray cover. Its title was Tumbledown Times.

  I picked it up. It smelled musty. I opened it and saw that it was a history of Tumbledown Farms. I thumbed through it quickly — and stopped at a section of old photos in the middle.

  The first faded black-and-white photo was of the original farmhouse. Just a little wooden shack. The next photo showed some grinning farmworkers holding shovels and pitchforks in front of a hay wagon.

  I blinked when I turned the page and saw the next old photo. The stable. I recognized it immediately. Two tall horses stood at the side, heads lowered.

  And leaning against the doorway was the stable boy. He had a long piece of straw in his mouth.

  I raised the book closer, staring at the stable boy.

  He looked familiar.

  Yes! I squinted at the picture till I could see the face clearly.

  And then my breath caught in my throat. And I suddenly felt cold all over.

  The stable boy was CLARK!

  Clark is a ghost.

  I held the book in my trembling hands and stared at the boy’s face. Yes. It was definitely Clark.

  Clark is a ghost.

  I slammed the book shut and dropped it to the desk. I remembered the words of the man from the mask store. “Someone else is out there. Someone else who owned the mask and will do anything to get it back.” It was Clark! “I have to tell Sabrina,” I said out loud.

  I picked up the box of markers and went running out of the room. I lurched down the long hall, my heart pounding. I burst into the playroom and shouted, “Sabrina? Sabrina?”

  I stopped when I saw Clark. He was standing against the glass door in back. His hair fell down over his forehead. His hands were at his sides.

  “Oh!” I let out a startled cry. Panic tightened in my throat.

  Clark, what are you doing here? I thought. I know the truth about you. I know you were the stable boy. I know you are a ghost.

  Why are you here?

  Clark stepped away from the door. He said something to Angela and Colin. Then he reached behind his back — and pulled something from his pocket.

  A mask!

  The mask that had panicked the horses. MY HAUNTED MASK?

>   Clark pulled the rubber mask down over his face. An ugly mask. But not my mask. It was green and big-eyed and had a long alligator snout with two rows of pointy yellow teeth.

  He fixed it over his head and stepped toward the kids.

  “NOOOOO!” I wanted to scream for him to stop. But no sound came out.

  I knew I had to act fast. Clark was a ghost, and I was the only one who knew it. The kids weren’t safe. None of us were safe.

  I grabbed Sabrina and spun her around. “Quick —” I choked out. “Take the kids to the art table. Keep them close together. Make masks with them.”

  “Mrs. Lange and I tried,” Sabrina said. “They wouldn’t sit down.”

  “Listen to me!” I screamed. “Get them away from Clark. Sit them down and make the masks over there.” I pointed to the art table on the other side of the room.

  “Hel-lo?” Sabrina said. “Carly Beth? Why are you so freaked?”

  “Tell you later,” I said, my eyes on Clark in that hideous mask. “Where is Mrs. Lange?”

  “She and Laura had to go out to get more cider,” Sabrina said. She studied me for a minute. She could see how frightened I was.

  “Okay. I — I’ll round up the kids.” She turned and started to herd the kids to the art table.

  I helped push Jesse and Debra in the right direction. “Come over here,” I said, trying to sound calm. I didn’t want to scare the kids. “Take a paper bag. Let’s make some scary Halloween masks. The creepier the better!”

  Once the kids were settled, I took a deep breath and strode across the room to Clark.

  “Carly Beth — hi,” he said. His voice was muffled inside the ugly mask. His dark eyes locked on mine.

  “I know the truth,” I said. “I … I know the truth about you, Clark.” I grabbed the top of his mask with both hands — and tugged it off his head.

  “Hey!!” He cried out angrily. He grabbed for the mask. “What is your problem?”

  I studied his face. Yes. I wasn’t making a mistake.

  My heart pounded. I struggled to breathe. I was standing so close to a ghost!

  “You were the stable boy,” I said. “You’re the one who killed those horses all those years ago. I saw your picture in an old book. I know it was you, Clark. I know what you are. You’re a ghost.”

  His eyes didn’t move off me. But his smile faded. “Yes, you’re right, Carly Beth,” he said softly. “Now you know the truth.”

  I staggered back.

  He lurched forward and brought his face close to mine. “I’m going to put this mask back on — and destroy everyone in this room!” he whispered.

  “No —” I gasped. I swung the ugly mask behind my back and gripped it tightly with both hands.

  And then Clark laughed. He shook his head and laughed hard.

  “Carly Beth, are you totally nuts?” he cried. “I’m just kidding around. That was a joke.”

  “Not a joke,” I insisted. “I saw you in that old photo in the book about Tumbledown Farms. I studied the photo carefully. I —”

  “I’ve seen that old photo, too,” Clark said. “It’s my grandfather. My grandfather was the stable boy. He was about my age then. And I look a lot like him.”

  “You’re lying,” I said. “The stable boy died in that stampede. So he couldn’t be your grandfather! It’s you in that photo! I know it!”

  I glanced back at the table. The kids were already finishing their masks. Some were cutting eye holes into the paper bags.

  Clark pulled his mask away from me, then held it up to my face. “Check it out, Carly Beth. It’s just an alligator. It’s a normal Halloween mask. I bought it at Wal-Mart. It’s not the evil mask that frightened the horses.”

  I couldn’t stop shaking. I didn’t believe him. “Clark, photos don’t lie,” I said. “You were the stable boy. Why are you here? Are you looking for the Haunted Mask? Is that why you came tonight?”

  He blinked. “Huh? Haunted Mask? No. I —”

  I glanced back. The kids were trying on their masks. Pulling the brown paper bags over their heads.

  “I don’t know what you want,” I told Clark. “I don’t know why you’re haunting this farm. But please — don’t harm the kids.”

  Clark’s mouth dropped open. “You’re crazy!” he said. “You’re totally crazy! Listen to me —”

  Before he could finish, I heard the first scream from the kids’ table.

  “HELP ME!”

  I spun around — and saw the kids with their paper bag masks pulled down over their heads.

  “Help me! I can’t get it off!” Colin screamed. He was tugging at the top of the mask.

  Two or three other kids began pulling at their masks and screaming.

  “It’s STUCK to me!”

  “It won’t come off!”

  “It hurts! It HURTS! Take it off!”

  A cry of horror escaped my throat. The kids were trapped in their masks — just as I had been.

  Clark did this to them. But why? To teach me a lesson?

  I tossed his alligator mask across the room and hurried to the table to help the kids. They were screaming and crying, pulling and scratching wildly at the paper bag masks. I could see the masks tightening around the kids’ faces.

  “Clark! Stop it!” I screamed. “Let the kids alone! Stop doing this!”

  “HELP ME, CARLY BETH! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!” Harmony wailed.

  “OW! I CAN’T SEE! I CAN’T BREATHE!” Jesse cried.

  “Clark — what do you want?” I said. “Stop this — please!”

  He stood right behind me. I grabbed his arm. “Hey!”

  He was solid. His arm was warm.

  I gasped. “Y-you’re alive!” I cried. “You’re alive. You’re not a ghost.”

  My head spun. I suddenly felt so confused.

  The kids were all on their feet, screaming and pulling frantically at their masks. I grabbed the bottom of Jesse’s mask and tried to tear it off. But it stuck tightly to his neck and shoulders.

  Beside me, Sabrina held Debra by one shoulder. She tried to tug off Debra’s mask. She gave a hard pull. But the mask didn’t budge. Debra let out a loud, horrified wail, her little hands flying in the air.

  The door swung open. Laura burst in. Her blond hair flew around her face. Her eyes moved from kid to kid.

  She strode over to Clark and me. She had a strange, wild expression on her face. Was she smiling?

  “Sorry I had to scare the kids like this,” Laura said.

  “Huh?” I gaped at her, at her cold silvery eyes.

  “It was the only way to get you to cooperate, Carly Beth,” Laura said. “Do you want to save these kids? There’s only one way.”

  “Laura — I don’t understand,” I stammered. “What are you talking about?”

  “BRING ME THE HAUNTED MASK!” she screamed. “I cannot rest until it is MINE again! Bring it, Carly Beth — and you’d better hurry!”

  I staggered back until I hit the wall. The lights suddenly seemed too bright. The floor felt unsteady beneath my feet.

  I saw the startled look on Clark’s face. And I saw Sabrina hugging herself, trembling in fright.

  The kids were running in crazy circles around the room. Screaming and crying, they tugged and slapped at their masks.

  “Get the massssk!” Laura hissed at me. “I need it, Carly Beth. I’ve been waiting so many years. Sooooo many years. Waiting to have it again.”

  I fought back my fear. I glared at her. “You’re the ghost!” I cried.

  She pushed back her wild hair. Her eyes flashed. “Yes, yesssssss. It was me. All me. It wasn’t the stable boy. Clark’s grandfather. He didn’t wear the mask. I did! I’m the one who died in that stampede!”

  She floated off the floor. “I can’t ressssst until I have the mask again,” she said. She had to scream over the cries of the kids. Her weird silver eyes burned down at me.

  “My father owned Tumbledown Farms. And I destroyed it all. I wore the mask as a joke. To scare the
stable boy. I didn’t know the mask was evil. I didn’t know its evil would change me forever!”

  She lowered herself to the floor. I could feel a wave of cold off her body.

  “I’ve been waiting here at the farm for sooooo long,” Laura continued. “The other night, I heard you at the stable, Carly Beth. I heard you talking to Clark. I heard you tell him you had the Haunted Mask. And I knew my long wait was finally over.”

  “Laura — let the kids go!” I shouted. “Let them take off their masks!”

  “Nooooo!” she replied, rising over me. Her long hair flew up at the sides of her head like wings. “Bring me the mask first! I can’t go to my final rest until I have the mask. Don’t stand there! Go get it! Before the kids start to suffocate!”

  My breath caught in my throat. I suddenly remembered. I suddenly remembered opening the metal box in my basement. Pulling out that feathery costume.

  “Laura — I don’t have the Haunted Mask!” I cried.

  “LIAR!” she screamed. Her eyes flamed bright red with rage. “LIAR! Go get it — NOW!”

  “But … it’s gone!” I told her. “I don’t have it. I’m telling the truth! It … it disappeared!”

  Laura floated above me. Her fists were tight. She swung them in the air. Her eyes still flamed bright red.

  “Do you want these kids to suffocate in their masks because you are a LIAR?”

  “You’ve got to believe me!” I begged. “The mask is gone!”

  And then I heard a tiny voice from the corner. Sabrina’s voice. “I know where it is,” she said.

  The kids were screaming and crying. They ran in circles around us, tugging at their paper masks.

  Sabrina took a timid step closer. I stared at her in shock.

  Laura floated to the floor. She lowered her fists and turned her angry red stare on Sabrina.

  “I was only trying to help you, Carly Beth,” Sabrina said in a frightened whisper. “I sneaked into your house and took the mask from your basement. I knew you weren’t safe with the mask in your house. I … buried it outside the stable. No one ever goes there.”

  So that was the patch of freshly dug dirt. I thought it was a grave.

 

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