R. L. Stine_Mostly Ghostly 06 by Let's Get This Party Haunted! Page A

in midair. Her eyes bulged nearly out of her head, and she pointed.
    “Max!” Mom cried. “What's going
on
?”

2
    T HINK FAST, MAX. THINK FAST!
    “They're …uh… duckpins,” I said.
    Mom stared at them floating above my head. “So?”
    “Well,” I said. “You know. Ducks always fly north in the spring.”
    She squinted at me, thinking hard about that.
    Nicky and Tara let go of the duckpins and they came crashing down on my feet. “Ow!” I started hopping up and down, waiting for the pain to fade away.
    “Your magic tricks are getting really good, Max,” Mom said. “But most jugglers
catch
the pins.”
    “I know, Mom,” I said, bending to rub my feet. “I'm working on it.”
    She left, looking confused.
    Nicky and Tara popped back into view. “Your mom is funny,” Tara said. “She's like a little bird twittering around the house.”
    “Why don't
you
go twitter around the house?” I grumbled. “I really want to practice in peace.”
    Nicky shook his head. He frowned at me. “You're hurting our feelings, Max.”
    Tara put on her pouty face. She crossed her arms in front of her. “I thought we were your best friends.”
    “If you two were my friends, you'd leave me alone,” I snapped.
    I heard a noise outside. I set the duckpins down and crossed the room to the window. I gazed out to the side of the house. A warm, sunny spring day. A small wooded lot stood next door, just trees and clumps of bushes.
    And hiding behind a low evergreen bush, I saw the boy in black.
    Was he a boy? Or was he an old man who looked like a boy?
    I didn't know.
    I only knew that this frightening guy had been following me for weeks. I tried to tell Mom and Dad about him. But they thought I was making up another ghost story.
    Maybe the boy in black
was
a ghost.
    He usually kept himself hidden. But one day I saw him clearly. And I saw his face change, from a boy's face to an old man's face, then back again.
    I still dream about that. It's just too creepy to think about.
    And there he was, lurking below, staring up at my window. Why was he following me? What did he want?
    I pulled open the bedroom window and stuck my head out. I peered down at him.
    He stepped out of the bushes. I couldn't see his face. It was covered in shadows from the trees. I could only see his black shirt, his black pants — and his hand, pointing up at me.
    “I'm watching!” he called, in a raspy voice that sounded like dry leaves crackling. “I'm watching you!”
    “Go away! Leave me alone!” I wanted to shout, but I suddenly felt too frightened. I backed away from the window and stumbled over the duckpins.
    Nicky grabbed my arm and kept me from falling. “What's wrong, Max?” he asked.
    “He —he's out there,” I stammered. “The boy in black. I told you about him. He's always out there. Always watching me. A few weeks ago, he told me someone is going to kill me.”
    “Kill you?” Tara cried. “He
said
that?”
    I nodded.
    “He must be crazy,” Nicky said. “Who would want to kill a nice guy like you?”
    “Max, you're shaking!” Tara said. “You really are scared, aren't you!”
    “Duh. Yeah. It's kinda scary.” An idea flashedinto my mind. I turned to them. “You're my best friends, right?”
    “Right,” they both answered.
    “So you'll do me a favor?”
    “Sure, Max,” Nicky said. “Name it. You want us to help you juggle?”
    “No,” I said. “I want you to go out there and find out what he wants.” I glanced at the open window. “Then tell him to stop watching me. Tell him to go away.”
    “No problem,” Nicky said.
    “He can't hurt us. We're already ghosts!” Tara said.
    “We'll take care of that guy,” Nicky said, flashing me two thumbs up.
    I watched them float right out the window.
    My heart started to pound. Would they be able to get rid of him?
    Or did I send my friends out to get hurt?
    I moved to the window.
    Keeping the front of my body pressed against the wall, I slowly leaned toward the window. I