Ghost Detectors Volume 1 (14 page)

M
alcolm snapped a few more pictures of the morning bustle. He caught kids rushing to class and teachers smiling through clenched teeth on film.

He also caught Coss Fitzfox, last year's Kickball King, hobbling in on crutches. He snapped a picture of “Booger” McCready, chess champion, walking the halls with a pair of soccer cleats slung over his shoulder. And he captured Waxberry's rough-and-ready tomboy, Candace Dillion, wearing mascara.

“You can't make this stuff up,” Malcolm told Dandy. They headed for the bulletin board in the cafeteria to check which rooms they were assigned.

“I hope we're in the same class again,” Dandy said, heaving his enormous backpack. With
every step he appeared to be trudging through syrup.

It didn't take long to find their names. “Look!” Dandy said. “We are in the same room.”

Malcolm smiled. “Yep.” Then he checked the room number. Yikes! Room 503! Mrs. Goolsby! Grueling Goolsby, the toughest teacher in the entire school.

“Oh no! We're doomed.” Dandy dropped his backpack with a thud.

Malcolm couldn't agree more.

Dandy dragged his backpack behind him as they headed for that fateful room.

Mrs. Goolsby stood by the classroom door. She tapped a ruler on her palm as students ducked in. Malcolm figured she couldn't wait to shut the door and begin the torture.

Malcolm debated whether or not to take her picture.
Not a good idea,
he concluded.

When they took their seats, Dandy whispered, “I guess we won't get to ghost hunt now, huh?”

True. There probably wouldn't be another free weekend until next summer. Malcolm had heard that Mrs. Goolsby even assigned homework during the winter holidays! “Maybe it won't be so bad,” he said. But secretly, he knew better.

The sweat beads had returned to Dandy's nose. His eyes were filled with panic. “Maybe we could transfer out.”

Malcolm shrugged. “Doubtful.”

“Maybe our parents would agree to homeschool us.”

“Even more doubtful,” Malcolm said as the bell rang.

“Quiet!” Mrs. Goolsby called, the door sweeping shut. “Pull out your math books and turn to
Chapter One
.”

Among the groans Dandy said, “But we haven't even heard the announcements.”

“Who said that?” Mrs. Goolsby asked, her eyes piercing each person.

Dandy slowly raised a shaky hand.

“What is your name?” she demanded.

Dandy gulped. “Daniel. Daniel Dee.”

“Well, Mr. Dee,” Mrs. Goolsby sneered. “I bet you can do at least one problem before the announcements. Let's see, shall we?”

Dandy gulped again, much louder. “What about attendance?”

Mrs. Goolsby slapped the ruler hard across the edge of her desk, causing an explosive noise that could've set off a panic bell. “It's my job to worry about attendance, Mr. Dee. It's your job to get those problems done. Stop wasting time!”

The kids scurried for their books and pencils. Malcolm saw Dandy staring at the blunt nub of his, and knew he was too frightened to get up and use the pencil sharpener.

They worked the math problems, only stopping to say the Pledge of Allegiance. Mrs. Goolsby strolled by each desk. She paused at Malcolm's desk. “What's this?” She held up the camera.

“I'm taking pictures for the yearbook,” he answered.

“Are you taking pictures at this very moment?” she grilled.

“No,” Malcolm said. Now he was doing the gulping.

“Then . . . put . . . it . . . away,” she rolled out each word like she was speaking a foreign language.

Malcolm did as he was told.

As the day progressed, it didn't get much better. There were no introductory games in Mrs. Goolsby's class. No working in teams like in fourth grade. Just hour after hour of Math, English, Science, and History.

Malcolm did manage to take more pictures. But that was during lunch, recess, and Mrs. Flutterfly's art class. When the three o'clock bell rang, Malcolm was the first in line for the school bus. He couldn't wait to get home.

After a couple of cookies and lemonade, he relayed the dreadful events of the day to his mom. “Mrs. Goolsby's a velociraptor in loafers!” he said.

“Oh, Malcolm,” Mom sighed. “You have such an imagination.”

Malcolm knew he wasn't going to get any sympathy. So, he headed to the computer to upload the yearbook photos before he started his pile of homework.

He checked them one by one. Then, he checked them again. He looked at his camera, then back to the pictures on his computer. He zoomed in closer and checked again. Then Malcolm dashed to the phone.

“Dandy, get over here quick! Our ghost hunting days are not over!”

“I
don't get it,” Dandy said, looking from the computer screen to the photo printouts. He twitched his nose like he was about to sneeze.

“I don't either,” Malcolm said. “It's the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me.”

Dandy gave him a look.

“Okay, maybe not the weirdest, but it comes pretty close.”

“Who is that guy?” Dandy asked.

Malcolm had no idea. He looked at the photos again. The picture of the school marquee came out just fine. But instead of
Go Hornets!
it said
TELL NO ONE!
And next to the marquee stood an odd-looking man. Odd, for a couple reasons.

1.
  
He wore a green khaki fishing cap and vest, both covered in various fishing hooks and lures.

2.
  
The man was transparent. No doubt, a ghost!

Malcolm checked out the close-up he'd taken of Candace Dillion. He caught her mid-blink. But instead of eye makeup, there was writing on both her eyelids.

Left eyelid:
TELL

Right eyelid:
NO ONE!

And standing directly behind her was the ghostly fisherman.

Malcolm studied the photo of Booger McCready. Booger's T-shirt now sported the words,
TELL NO ONE!
The fisherman lurked nearby.

And the picture of Coss Fitzfox clearly showed
TELL NO ONE!
written across the cast on his leg. The phantom fisherman peeked over his shoulder.

Malcolm scrolled through the same photos on the computer. “The school is definitely haunted,” he told Dandy.

“It could be a glitch in the camera,” Dandy suggested.

“You mean like a mechanical failure?”

Daddy nodded. “Yeah. A glitch.”

“I double-checked it, Dandy. Besides, a glitch would probably cause lots of blobs or something. Not this.”

“Maybe it's a double-exposure.”

“Of what?” Malcolm argued. “I've never taken any pictures with those words on them . . . or that guy. I've never seen him before. And digital cameras don't make double-exposures.”

“Did you have your specter detector with you?” Dandy wondered.

Malcolm shook his head no. He picked up the detector and flipped it to On. He liked the sound it made warming up. Then he switched it to Detect.

Yip! Yip!
Spooky appeared, as if he'd been patiently waiting to be noticed by the specter detector and Malcolm.

“Hey, Spooky! I missed you today.”

The dog bounced and wagged his tail.

Dandy leaned down and pretended to pet the dog. His hand brushed completely through the pooch, but Spooky's face showed he appreciated the gesture.

Malcolm went back to studying the photo. “I just wish I knew what this meant,” he said.

Dandy continued fake-petting Spooky. “We'll have to figure it out later. Can you believe all the homework Mrs. Goolsby gave us? I'm going to be up way past my bedtime.”

Malcolm groaned. “No kidding. And on the first day! What teacher assigns a 1,000-word essay on the lessons we learned over summer vacation and how they relate to the writings of Roald Dahl?”

“Mrs. Goolsby!” Dandy complained. Even Spooky let out a
Yip! Yip!

Malcolm turned off his specter detector, sending Spooky back to invisible realms. Then he and Dandy trudged up the steps of the basement lab.

“Even though we can't do it tonight, we have to find out who that guy is,” Malcolm said. “We need to know why he's haunting the school.”

“Well, whoever he is,” Dandy said, “his instructions are clear. We can't tell anyone! And I'm not going to go against any ghost's wishes.”

M
alcolm took his camera to school early the next day. He took pictures of the marquee, the cafeteria, and the library before heading to class.

“I've got to test it,” he told Dandy. “I've got to find out why he's haunting the school. I'm going to take as many pictures as I can.”

Dandy's backpack looked even heavier than yesterday. His stroll down the hall looked more like a trek up a steep mountain. “Maybe he used to be a school teacher or P.E. coach here.”

“But why the fishing getup?” Malcolm reasoned. “Shouldn't he be haunting a lake house, or a fishing boat, or Angler Bob's Bait Shop instead?”

Dandy adjusted his backpack. As he did, his
knees buckled a little. “Maybe there used to be a lake here, and the school was built over it.”

“Don't be silly, Dandy. Where would they've put all the water?”

“Well, our toilets have been overflowing a lot.”

As they were about to step into the classroom, Mrs. Goolsby cried, “Oh, no you don't!”

Malcolm and Dandy froze.

“Look at your shoes!” she yelled at them. Her face had flushed a heated pink, and her eyes zapped them like lasers. “Caked in mud! I will not have you soiling my classroom!”

The boys just looked at each other. Neither one was sure what to do. After all, they'd never seen a teacher so upset about a little dirt.

“Remove your shoes this instant,” she instructed, “and set them by the door. You will spend your recess in the boys' room cleaning them. Understood?”