Scare Scape

by Sam Fisher

  “Because, Squirto, you’re the mail-order menace around here. You’ve always got some ghastly trick up your sleeve. Exploding lipstick, acne-inducing soap, remote-control spiders — to name just a few that I’ve experienced personally.”

  There was no denying that Morton had played his share of pranks over the years, but it seemed obvious to him that this was not in the same league.

  James obviously had the same thought. “Hold on a minute,” he said. “Stink bombs and smoke pellets are one thing, but what we just experienced wasn’t some cheap trick.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Melissa said. “I should have figured it out sooner. Morton didn’t dig that gargoyle up. He bought it from the back pages of his hideous comic and then pretended to find it as soon as we got here, hoping to freak me out. You two have probably been planning the whole thing for weeks.”

  “Melissa,” James said in a pleading tone. “Try to be rational. How could Morton hide a twenty-pound stone gargoyle in the car without you or Dad seeing it?”

  “I don’t know, but obviously he did.”

  “I didn’t!” Morton pleaded.

  “Oh, so it’s all magic is it?” Melissa said in a derisive tone. “Well, let’s see,” and she marched down the hall, straight into Morton’s bedroom.

  James and Morton followed curiously. Melissa gestured at Morton’s grizzly display of toys. “If it was gargoyle magic, then Morton’s toys would be more realistic, wouldn’t they?” she said, grabbing a tangled handful of black rubbery eels and throwing them directly at Morton.

  Morton caught the eels and looked down at them. In the comic these were the Electric Killer Eels, fearsome creatures capable of packing a six-thousand-volt charge. But these toys had smudged, poorly painted eyes and a disappointingly dim blue light in their tails that came on when you flicked a switch on their backs. There was nothing vaguely realistic about them, nor any of his other toys for that matter. Melissa had a valid point. “She’s right,” Morton said, feeling more confused than ever.

  Melissa gave a victorious grin and turned to leave. “And I already checked my closet, which still isn’t big enough for a coat hanger. So, nice try, but guess what? I’m telling Dad.”

  “Telling Dad?” James said. “Telling him what?”

  Melissa paused in the doorway and seemed to have second thoughts. “Okay, maybe I won’t bother telling him this time, but if you idiots try anything else, I’m going to make sure he grounds you both for a month.”

  Melissa stomped dramatically out of the room, slamming the door behind her. James and Morton exchanged befuddled glances.

  “It wasn’t you, was it?” James asked tentatively.

  Morton shook his head. “No, I swear,” he said. “I didn’t do anything. I was just walking up the stairs when it happened. Did you … ?” Morton trailed off.

  James flexed his fingers and stared at his hands in an unusual manner. “I was just lying on my bed, reading that comic you gave me. Actually, I wasn’t even reading it, I was looking at the picture on the front, you know, the one with the girl who looks like Melissa.”

  “Maybe you made a wish,” Morton said. “I mean, maybe the magic doesn’t work until all three wishes have been made. I read a story like that once in Scare Scape, it was about this guy who —”

  “But I didn’t make a wish,” James interrupted. I was just looking at the cover when …” He stopped midsentence, and for a moment a look of total horror flashed across his face.

  “What is it?” Morton asked urgently.

  James shook his head. “Nah! That would be stupid. I didn’t make a wish. And anyway, your toys still look like plastic junk, so it can’t be that, can it?”

  Morton felt a little stung by James’s comment about his prized collection but realized he was right.

  “It’s probably nothing,” James added, but he didn’t seem to have convinced himself, and he certainly hadn’t convinced Morton. Something strange had happened, and Morton had an odd, guilty feeling — as though they’d opened a door to a forbidden room and released something sinister into the world.

  The fact that nothing unusual happened over the next few days further convinced Melissa that the boys had been playing a prank. By Friday even Morton was beginning to doubt that anything had actually happened, and slowly but surely life began to slip into a comfortable rhythm.

  On the Sunday night before their first day of school, Dad reminded them that he’d be working nights on a regular basis at the Dimvale Observatory. He’d always be home at breakfast and supper though, so while there was nothing normal about his schedule, things would at least feel normal most of the time. Then the subject of babysitting came up. Morton had never liked the fact that Dad worked nights, but the one thing he, James, and Melissa agreed on was that they didn’t want a babysitter. Just before the move they’d had a nanny stay with them on the nights when Dad worked. She’d been next to useless, eating all the snacks, leaving dirty dishes everywhere, and staying up late watching television with the volume turned up loud. Melissa was particularly adamant that she was too old to need a nanny and made that very clear to Dad.

  “Well, I suppose I’m willing to see how things go without a nanny,” he said, “but on one condition: you all agree that Melissa’s in charge.”

  “What!” James protested. “Why her?”

  “Because she’s the oldest, obviously,” Dad said.

  “That’s not fair!” James said.

  “I agree,” Melissa said, surprising Morton. “It’s not fair. I don’t see why it can’t be every man for himself. I mean, James is only a couple of years younger than me, and we all know Squirto likes to live alone in his creepy alternate reality.”

  “That’s not true!” Morton said in an outraged squeal. Although he knew he had been spending far too much time reading his comics lately.

  “It’s not up for negotiation,” Dad said. “Somebody has to be the responsible party, and if you don’t think you’re up to it, Melissa, then a nanny it will have to be.”

  Melissa glowered at Morton and James as if they were her archenemies.

  “Do I have to make them a bedtime snack?”

  “Yes, and make sure they do their homework and get to bed on time.”

  Melissa pressed her lips together and pondered the situation. Morton knew this would be a difficult choice for her. Taking care of others was hardly in her nature, but for some reason she seemed to hate the idea of a nanny more than anyone.

  “Fine!” Melissa snapped, after a long pause. “But I’m not singing any lullabies.”

  “There you go,” Dad said, giving Melissa a hug that she didn’t seem to want. “I knew you had it in you. Now, I start work tomorrow night, after you come home from school, so we’ll treat it as a practice run. I’m sure you’re going to do fine.”

  “Isn’t tomorrow a full moon?” Morton said.

  “It is, as a matter of fact,” Dad said. “How do you know that?

  “My Shark Hound clock. It always knows when it’s the full moon.”

  “Oh yes, I remember that ghastly thing,” Dad said. “Anyway, the full moon’s not ideal for stargazing, but it will give me time to calibrate the scopes. Tomorrow night will be a sort of test run for all of us I suppose.”

  Morton looked over at Melissa, who was chewing her nails and gazing sullenly at the floor. He wasn’t sure this plan was going to work out.

  When Monday morning finally came it was warm and sunny, which Morton dared to hope was a good omen. He and James, who were in the same middle school, walked together, while Melissa, who was going to Dimvale High, went off alone in the opposite direction.

  As they strolled along the wide streets, the trees glowed with flashes of fall colors in the early morning sun and Morton’s spirits began to lift. James seemed to be feeling the same thing and commented several times on how nice the houses were and how great it was to walk to school without battling constant traffic.

  The school was a pleasant, old brick building w
ith tall, narrow windows and a large fenced-in yard. Morton and James arrived just as the bell was ringing and a jumble of running, screaming, laughing kids were jostling into orderly lines and shuffling in through the main entrance. Morton and James followed the crowd.

  Just inside the door, a stocky man with short gray hair, a walking stick, and a clipboard was supervising the kids. Morton and James must have stuck out like sore thumbs, because the man spotted them immediately. “James and Morton Clay?” he said, limping toward them.

  The two boys nodded, and the man handed them each a pile of papers that included a map of the school.

  “You’re in homeroom SG9 on the top floor,” he said to James, “and you’re in SG5, down here on the first floor,” he said to Morton. “Don’t worry, the school’s not as big as it looks. You’ll soon get used to it. If you have any questions, come and see me. I’m Mr. Brown. You’ll find me in the school counselor’s office, which is also marked on the map.”

  Morton and James both thanked the man and continued following the crowd down the hallway.

  “What do you suppose the ‘SG’ stands for?” Morton asked.

  “Smart geniuses,” James said with a playful grin. “Somebody must have told them that the Clay kids are smart geniuses. Hope they don’t find out the truth!”

  Morton laughed. The truth was that if there were a “smart genius” class, James probably would be in it, although he’d be the last to admit it. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at recess.”

  James nodded. “If I can find my way out of this labyrinth,” he said, turning his map upside down and squinting comically.

  Morton laughed again and went off to find his classroom.

  Later that morning Morton’s homeroom teacher, Mr. Rickets, a very distracted, bald man, showed him where his locker was and gave him a quick tour of the school, including the gym, cafeteria, and library. After that he had biology, which promised to be Morton’s favorite subject because the teacher, Mr. Noble, announced there would be lots of dissections, and they spent most of the class talking about gastropod mollusks (otherwise known as slugs) and looking at different species with a large magnifying glass.

  At recess Morton was very excited to tell James about Mr. Noble’s class, but strangely, James was nowhere to be seen. Morton searched the school yard and even wandered through the halls past all the lockers, but there was no sign of him. That’s when Morton realized that he didn’t have any friends and, for the first time in his life, began to feel self-conscious. He ended up spending the whole time standing alone with his back against the wall with the uncomfortable feeling that everyone was talking about him. He was relieved when recess was over, even though the next class was math, his least favorite subject.

  At lunchtime James still didn’t show up, and Morton felt a sense of panic rising from somewhere deep inside. Thoughts of the gargoyle and the strange experience with the blue light began to crowd his imagination. Even though nothing had happened for days, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d done something wrong. And there was something about the way James had behaved when Morton asked him if he’d made a wish….

  “Hey, is that a Scare Scape bag?”

  Morton turned to see a scrawny kid in a torn T-shirt and dirty jeans eyeing his schoolbag from across the yard.

  “Those are limited edition,” the boy continued. “Only four hundred of them ever made.”

  “Oh, are you a collector too?” Morton asked, walking over to the boy.

  “Not really. I guess I’m the opposite of a collector. I sell stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “Anything I can make money on. Mostly I find old things, fix them up, and then sell them. It’s crazy what people throw out. I’ll give you twenty bucks for that bag. Lots of kids around here are into Scare Scape.”

  Morton shook his head. “I don’t want to sell it.”

  “I don’t blame you. It’s worth at least fifty bucks. I’m Robbie Bolan, by the way,” the boy said, wiping his nose on his sleeve and offering out his hand.

  Morton shook Robbie’s hand. “I’m Morton.”

  “You’re new, huh?”

  “Yes. We just moved here.”

  “I was sitting behind you in biology class this morning,” Robbie said. “You really liked those slugs, huh?”

  Morton grinned. “Yeah! Slugs are cool. Did you know they used to be snails that lost their shells and that most of them are vegetarian, but a few years ago they found a real flesh-eating slug called a ghost slug that eats worms? It’s almost exactly like the Flesh-Eating Slugs in Scare Scape issue 319.”

  Robbie let out a sudden and surprising laugh. “It’s like you know more than Mr. Noble. Are you some kind of slug fanatic?”

  Morton felt his cheeks go red. He always had to remind himself not to get carried away when he was talking about obscure creatures and Scare Scape monsters.

  Robbie obviously noticed him blushing.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said apologetically. “I think it’s cool that you know about that stuff. I mean, most people spend all their time learning about what movie stars eat for breakfast and they think that’s normal. Learning about rare slugs sounds much more interesting to me.”

  “Well, it’s not just slugs,” Morton said, feeling suddenly very friendly toward this Robbie character. “It’s pretty much any kind of animal. Although, to be honest, I’m not really interested in the tame ones like guinea pigs.”

  “No, I figured being a Scare Scape fan, bunnies weren’t really your thing,” Robbie said dryly.

  Morton laughed. “So you say lots of kids here are into Scare Scape?”

  “Yeah, there’s Timothy Clarke and …” Robbie stopped short. At that moment a tall, heavyset boy, who looked too old to be in middle school, called across the yard in a deep, hostile voice. “Hey, Robbie! You little barf bag!”

  “Uh-oh, it’s Wall of Noise,” Robbie said, and he ran off at lightning speed, disappearing from view behind the school. The heavyset boy was flanked by two other boys, and Morton noticed that all three of them were wearing identical T-shirts, which had the words Wall of Noise written in jagged, migraine-inducing, fluorescent orange and green. The three of them ran around the back of the school, presumably chasing after Robbie. Once again Morton found himself standing alone in the school yard.

  For the rest of the day Morton kept his eyes peeled for Robbie, wondering why exactly the “Wall of Noise” boys were after him. He finally caught sight of him running down the hall after last period.

  “Hey, uh, Robbie,” he called, running after him.

  Robbie slowed down and looked back suspiciously at Morton.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he said in a gravelly voice.

  “I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Morton said. “I mean, those guys are about three times your size, and there were three of them, so that’s like nine to one, so I was a bit worried.”

  Morton had expected Robbie to laugh at this, but instead he just stood in total silence, staring right at him as if trying to read his mind.

  “You don’t look hurt, anyway,” Morton said, feeling uncomfortable under Robbie’s gaze.

  “Nah, don’t worry, those punks will never catch me,” Robbie said, turning away and continuing down the hall.

  Morton followed him. “Who are they anyway?” he asked.

  “They’re punks.”

  “Yeah, you already said that.”

  “No. I mean, they actually are punks. They have a punk band called Wall of Noise. They take themselves way too seriously, especially since the local radio station has started playing their songs. The big one, he’s Brad. He failed eighth grade twice.”

  “Oh, that explains why he looks so old,” Morton said, picking up his pace to keep up with Robbie. “But why was he chasing you?”

  “It’s a long story, but the short version is Brad is a moron.”

  By now the two boys had arrived on the street and Robbie slowed down. “Uh, whe
re do you live?” he asked.

  “On Hemlock Hill,” Morton said.

  “I have to go past there to get home,” Robbie said. “Come on, I’ll show you the shortcut.”

  “Great,” Morton said.

  A few minutes later they were rustling their way along the leafy sidewalks.

  “So, do you have a lot of Scare Scape comics?” Robbie asked.

  “Almost a full set,” Morton said. “And I have nearly all the monsters too.”

  “You must spend a lot of money on that,” Robbie said. “Those are expensive toys.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Morton admitted. “I had to mow a lot of lawns and deliver a lot of papers to pay for it all.”

  “So, how long you been into Scare Scape?” Robbie asked.

  “Well, James and I used to read it when we were younger, but it’s only since … er … well, it’s only recently I started to get really into it.”

  “Who’s James?” Robbie asked.

  At that moment Morton stopped dead and slapped his hand on his forehead.

  “Oh no!” he groaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Robbie asked.

  “James is my brother. I was supposed to walk home with him.”

  “Well, we can go back for him,” Robbie said, but it turned out they didn’t need to. At that very moment a voice echoed down the street and they both turned to see James clutching an enormous pile of books and running toward them.

  James quickly gained on them and stood panting for a minute.

  “I’m sorry,” Morton said. “I didn’t see you all day and I wasn’t sure where you were.”

  “I got detention,” James said, still panting. “Had to stay in at recess and lunch.”

  “Detention! On the first day?”

  “Let me guess,” Robbie said. “Mrs. Houston.”

  James nodded. “How did you know?”

  “She likes to pick on new kids, put them in their place.”

  Morton introduced James and Robbie to each other, and the three of them resumed walking.

  “Still, there has to be a reason,” Morton inquired a moment later. “She can’t just put you in detention because you’re the new kid.”