Billy rushed into his house with B-Dawg at his heels. The Buddies had caught up to the kids at the town hall. Then all of them had headed home to get ready for trick-or-treating. “Hey, Mom,” Billy said as he burst into the kitchen. Billy’s mom looked up from frosting cookies. “Hello, dear. I’m just finishing up my famous jack-o’-lantern cookies for tonight’s Spooky Brew-Ha-Ha.”
The Spooky Brew-Ha-Ha was the town’s annual Halloween party. Most of the adults in Fernfield were planning to go while the kids went trick-or-treating.
“Did you pick up my costume?” Billy asked.
“Sure did. It’s on the table. And I got a matching one for B-Dawg!”
Billy walked over to check out his costume. He gasped in horror. It was a powder blue bunny suit, and there was one for B-Dawg, too!
He couldn’t trick-or-treat as a silly bunny! What was he going to do?
He glanced at the staff he was holding. Hmm…
Rushing upstairs, Billy dug into his closet. Finally, he found a dark blue robe in the back.
He pulled on the robe and held up the staff. “What do you think, B-Dawg? Warwick the Warlock at your service!”
While Billy was busy, B-Dawg had pulled on the bunny costume. He whined with dismay when he looked at himself.
“Sorry, B-Dawg,” Billy said. Then he pulled out the case file the sheriff had given him. He flipped through the papers until he found a couple of pictures. One was a police sketch of Warwick. The other was a very old photo of a boy and a beagle puppy.
“Look, B-Dawg,” Billy said. “This must be what the warlock looked like. And the photo must be the boy from the story—and his pup, Pip.” He noticed a number on the house in the second picture. “‘1114 Pine Lane,’” he read. “I wonder if he still lives there?”
B-Dawg barked.
“Yeah, it was over seventy years ago,” Billy said. “He’d be older than grandma by now! But if I could talk to him, this would be the easiest project ever!”
There was no time to think about that just then. Billy stuck the photo in his pocket and put the rest of the stuff into his backpack.
“Trick-or-treating time,” he told B-Dawg. “We’d better fly!”
* * *
Meanwhile, two of Billy’s classmates were thinking more about tricks than treats. Rodney and Skip stood at the door of the old manor. Rodney tried to pry at the boards on the door with a crowbar.
“Hurry!” Skip whispered.
“There!” Rodney said as one of the boards finally broke.
A loud wail sounded behind them. Skip spun around, his heart pounding. A black cat glared at him.
“Chill, it’s just a dumb cat,” Rodney said. “Come on, I bet there’s tons of weird stuff in here we can use to scare those dweebs from class.”
He squeezed in past the broken board. Skip followed.
Inside, Pip saw the two boys enter. Floating, he hid behind a chandelier as Skip shone a flashlight around.
“This way,” Rodney said as he started up the staircase.
The sun was setting as the two boys reached the turret room. Rodney wandered around, checking it out. He picked up a dusty old candlestick…and part of the wall slid aside. It was a secret hiding place! “Awesome!” Rodney exclaimed.
Skip stared at the mirror. Was it his imagination, or was it…glowing?
“Rodney,” he said.
Rodney barely heard him. He was looking at the potion bottles in the secret compartment. The labels were hard to read.
“‘Rodent-trans’…something,” Rodney muttered.
Pip was watching from overhead. He noticed the full moon rising outside. Then, a moonbeam drifted into the room and hit the mirror.
“Oh, no…” Pip whispered.
“Rodney!” Skip cried.
Rodney finally turned around—just in time to see Warwick stumble out of the mirror!
“We’re free!” Warwick cried. “It was horrendous in there.” Suddenly he noticed the two boys gaping at him. “You there! Are you the ones who released us? Where’s my staff? And my book? You’ve stolen them, haven’t you?”
Rodney and Skip were too scared to answer. Behind Warwick, the Hound appeared in the mirror. He stepped out into the room, too.
“Come on, Hound. We must find my things. We have to complete the spell tonight.” He saw the potion bottle in Rodney’s hands and grabbed it from him. “Rodentus transformus!” he chanted.
Then, without warning, he splashed the potion onto Rodney and Skip. The two boys disappeared—and a moment later, a pair of rats popped out of their clothes!
Warwick smiled. “Now they won’t be able to warn the town.”
Just then, Hoot flew in. “Master, it’s true!” the owl cried. “You’ve been called forth!”
“Yes, Hoot,” Warwick said with an evil grin. “I’ve finally been freed from the mirror. We must complete the spell!”
“Five puppies of the same blood,” the Hound growled, reminding the Warlock what they needed.
“Five puppies from the same blood just released you,” Hoot told his master.
“Where are they now?” Warwick demanded.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Hoot replied, looking around.
Warwick rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re not. Still as much of a birdbrain as ever!”
None of them saw Pip, who was still hiding and watching. He realized that Hoot was talking about the Buddies!
Warwick and the Hound hurried outside. Hoot flew down to join them.
“First we must find my staff,” Warwick said. “Nothing can happen without it. Hoot, fly ahead and look. It will be illuminated by the full moon.”
“Yes, Master!” Hoot flew off.
Then Warwick ordered the Hound to go look for the puppies.
Pip watched from the window. He wasn’t sure what to do. Then he thought of something. “If they can leave, maybe I can, too!” he whispered.
He floated one ghostly paw toward the door, waiting for that invisible shield to stop him as it had before. But nothing happened! “I’m not trapped anymore!” he cried as he flew outside. “Woo-hoo!” he said excitedly. Then he got down to business. “Okay, I’d better find those puppies….”
The Buddies and their kids met outside Billy’s house. All of them were in costume. Alice was dressed as a witch, and her puppy, Rosebud, as a princess. Sam was an alien, and his puppy, Buddha, was a genie. Pete was a mummy, and his puppy, Mudbud, was a pirate. Bartleby was a cowboy, and his puppy, Budderball, was a superhero. Then, there were Billy and B-Dawg.
“Nice costume, matey.” Mudbud giggled. “Does the B stand for bunny?”
B-Dawg tried to play it cool. “This ain’t no ordinary rabbit costume, dawgs,” he said. “It’s a killer rabbit. Those things are da’ bomb!”
Billy held up his staff, pretending to be Warwick. “With the Howlloween Hound, I’ll control the world! Ha-ha-ha!” he cried, doing his best evil laugh.
“Hey, that was really good,” Bartleby said. “Now let’s go score some sugar!”
The friends and their pups set out into the streets of Fernfield. Lots of other kids were trick-or-treating, too. Most of the houses were draped with spooky decorations. The full moon shone brightly in the dark night sky.
Alice glanced at Billy’s staff. “Is that thing glowing?” she asked.
Billy looked at it curiously. Strangely enough, it was glowing. Weird.
“Uh, maybe it has batteries or something?” Billy said. He shrugged, and he and his friends continued on.
With the Buddies in tow, they walked toward their teacher’s house. It had more decorations than any other house in town. There were tombstones on the lawn and cobwebs in the trees. A mechanical ghost flew in circles above them.
The kids knocked on the door. Mrs. Carroll’s husband answered. He was dressed as a surfer version of Frankenstein’s monster.
“Trick-or-treat!” the kids sang out.
“Dude, sweet costume!” Pete added.
�
�That’s Frankendude to you!” Mr. Carroll replied.
Mrs. Carroll rushed up behind her husband. She was dressed as the Bride of Frankendude.
“Hello, children! Welcome to our spooooooky house!” she said. Then she and her husband handed out candy to the kids and dog biscuits to the Buddies.
“Oh, sweet mama!” Budderball exclaimed. “Why can’t it be Halloween every night?”
In another part of town, Pip was searching for the Buddies. He had to warn them about Warwick!
As he floated along, he was amazed by what he saw. “I’m not alone!” he exclaimed. “There are ghosts and goblins everywhere!”
But then he took a closer look and noticed some of the ghosts and goblins adjusting their masks and costumes. “They’re not real,” he realized.
He didn’t want to scare anyone. He found a sheet someone had dropped from their ghost costume, and draped it over himself as a disguise. Then he floated down the street.
Soon he spotted five familiar forms—the Buddies! He sped toward them, still covered by the sheet.
“Thank goodness I found you!” he cried. “I’m here to warn you about the Howlloween Hound.”
“How did you know about that?” Rosebud asked.
Pip pulled off the sheet, revealing his true form. B-Dawg screamed.
“Aaaah! It’s the Howlloween Hound! He’s following us!” he yelled.
“Aaaah!” the other Buddies screamed. And they all raced away.
“Not again!” Pip exclaimed. “Please, wait! I’m just trying to warn you!”
He flew after them.
“This ghost dawg just doesn’t give up!” B-Dawg cried. “What do we do?”
“I know a place,” Buddha suggested. “If there’s anyone who can help us with a paranormal problem, it’s Zelda.”
The Buddies were all so distracted they didn’t notice that they’d rushed right past the real Howlloween Hound. But the Howlloween Hound noticed the Buddies. He’d been sniffing all around town for those five puppies.
His spooky eyes narrowed as he watched the Buddies hurry off. “That must be them,” he growled.
A few blocks away, Warwick walked down a different street. A group of trick-or-treaters came toward him. Most of the kids were dressed as goblins, skeletons, or other scary creatures. One girl was dressed as a fairy princess. “Hurry up!” the fairy princess called to her dad, who was walking behind the group of kids she was with. “The best candy is on the next street!”
The kids hurried forward, with the girl’s dad rushing to keep up.
Warwick shuddered. “That pink goblin was hideous!” he said. “This is dreadful. Evil creatures are roaming the streets and controlling the townsfolk. Someone has beaten us to it—this town has already been taken over!”
Warwick couldn’t believe it. He’d spent more than seventy years looking forward to taking over Fernfield himself.
But maybe he still could. He knew he would first have to find Hoot and the Hound—and then act fast.
Hoot was soaring above the town, watching for the glow of his master’s staff. Finally he spotted it. Yes! The Warlock would be pleased with him.
Billy and his friends didn’t notice the owl landing in a tree nearby. They’d just stopped in front of a darkened house. It was the only one on the block without any decorations.
“Remind me never to come trick-or-treating here,” Bartleby said. He peered at the address on the house. “At…1114 Pine Lane. Talk about no Halloween spirit!”
“1114 Pine Lane?” Billy repeated. He pulled out the photograph he had stuck in his pocket. “Hey! The boy from the story lived here. This was Joseph’s house!”
“Go knock on the door, Billy,” Alice urged. “Maybe he still lives here.”
“He’d be, like, a thousand years old,” Billy replied. But he walked up to the house and rang the doorbell anyway.
Nobody answered. Billy turned back toward the others, who were waiting on the sidewalk.
“I guess nobody’s home,” Billy told them.
But just then, the door opened behind him. The other kids gasped as someone stepped out. It was Mr. Johnson, the spooky old man from the cemetery!
“Look behind you!” Sam whispered loudly, pointing.
“Ha-ha, good one,” Billy said. “I’m not falling for…”
He trailed off when he noticed his friends’ faces. They all looked pretty scared. What if they weren’t joking?
Slowly, he turned around. Mr. Johnson glared down at him.
Billy gulped. “Um…hello…sir,” he stammered. “I was wondering if this boy still lives here.”
His hand shook as he held up the photo of Joseph. Mr. Johnson looked at it.
“No,” Mr. Johnson said sharply. “This boy hasn’t lived here in quite some time. Every year a kid like you comes asking about that story. Why can’t you leave it alone? Now go away!”
“Okay,” Billy said immediately. “Sorry, sir.”
As he backed away, Mr. Johnson noticed the staff Billy was holding. It glowed softly in the moonlight.
“Where did you get that, boy?” Mr. Johnson snapped. “Hand it over! It’s very dangerous!”
He grabbed for the staff, but Billy pulled away just in time.
“Aaaaah!” Billy yelled. “Run!”
He and his friends raced away as fast as they could.
Hoot observed the scene for a moment more. Then he flapped his wings and took off, the full moon lighting his way.
Warwick was still wandering around town. “Where is that useless owl?” he muttered.
He watched as a group of kids went to the door of Mrs. Carroll’s house. Mr. Carroll, dressed as Frankendude, answered and passed out candy.
“All the goblins and ghouls are flocking to his door,” Warwick noted. That must mean there was some evil going on at the house. Warwick needed to find out. He waited until the kids left, then knocked on the door himself.
Mr. Carroll looked surprised when he answered. “Aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating?”
“No,” Warwick said. “Now give me what rightfully belongs to me!”
Just then Hoot arrived. He flew down and landed on Warwick’s arm.
“Master,” the owl said, “I have good news.”
Frankendude stared at the talking owl. “Oh, I get it!” he said. “You’re a ventriloquist. Very impressive.”
He gave Warwick a candy bar, then shut the door. Warwick stared at the candy. The sorcerer had said it was a treat, so he decided to take a bite. He didn’t realize it was still in the wrapper.
Yuck! He spit it out.
“This is what they call food these days?” Warwick complained. “Now what’s this good news, Hoot? Have you found my staff?”
“Yes. A young warlock has it,” Hoot replied.
Warwick frowned. “I leave for seventy-five measly years and someone tries to replace me! Where’s the respect?” With a grunt, he followed Hoot.
“This way, Master,” Hoot said, leading the way.
The owl flapped along the street. Warwick looked ahead and spotted Billy holding his staff. And Billy wasn’t alone.
“He’s got all sorts of terrifying creatures following him,” Warwick commented with disgust. “How will we get to him?”
The warlock couldn’t waste any more time. He needed to get his staff back and then move on with his plan. He walked up to Billy.
“Young warlock,” he addressed the boy, “do you know who I am?”
Billy and his friends looked confused. “Uh, I’m not sure,” Billy said.
“I am Warwick the Warlock!” Warwick declared. “The most evil warlock known to man! All you ghouls will be my slaves! Now give me my staff.”
Billy’s eyes widened. Now he knew why this guy looked familiar. He’d seen his picture in that police file!
Warwick lunged for the staff. Billy did the only thing he could think of—he pointed the staff at Warwick.
“Protect us!” he commanded in his best wizard voi
ce.
The staff lit up. Warwick gasped. “Oh, no!” he cried.
A second later a bolt of magical energy shot out of the staff. It hit Warwick, sending him flying back. He landed in a fake coffin on someone’s lawn, and the coffin’s lid slammed shut.
“Whoa,” Billy said, completely shocked.
“How did you do that?” Sam asked, equally shocked.
Billy shook his head. “I have no idea. But look at this!” He pulled the police sketch out of his backpack and showed it to the others.
“Dudes!” Pete exclaimed, “he really is the warlock!”
“Let’s go find Sheriff Dan,” Alice added. “Now!”
They all took off. A moment later, the coffin’s lid flipped open. Hoot landed on a nearby fake tombstone and peered down into the coffin.
“Are you okay, Master?” he asked.
Warwick sat up. He didn’t look okay. The magical bolt had frizzed his hair. His robe was smoldering.
“I clearly underestimated that warlock,” he muttered, glaring down the street after the kids.
Warwick picked himself up. He smoothed down his hair and shook the ashes from his robe. Determined to make things right, he returned to Mrs. Carroll’s door with Hoot perched on his arm. Once again, Mr. Carroll answered.
“Oh, hey,” Mr. Carroll said. “Loved your bit. But everyone only gets one piece of candy per trick.”
“I need your help, monster,” Warwick said with narrowed eyes. “You’re big and scary and the perfect henchman for the job.” Then, without warning, Warlock pulled out a potion and splashed it on Mr. Carroll.
“Servis mentus!” Warwick chanted.
Mr. Carroll’s eyes suddenly turned green.
“You will now do exactly as I say,” Warwick commanded.
“Yes, Master,” Mr. Carroll responded. He was hypnotized.
Warwick smiled. Finally, something was going right. “I want you to find a young warlock carrying a staff with a glowing black jewel,” he said. “Seize it—and eliminate him.”
“Yes, Master,” Mr. Carroll replied.
He stepped off the porch. His foot landed right in a jack-o’-lantern, but he kept walking with the pumpkin stuck on his foot.
Spooky Buddies Junior Novel Page 2