Nightmare Before Christmas (3 page)

Just as Sally left Town Hall, Lock, Shock, and Barrel raced in. They were dragging a big sack with something squirming inside of it.

"Jack!" they shouted. "We caught him! We've got him!"

Jack's heart pounded. "Open it up! Hurry!" he cried.

Giggling with excitement, the trick-or-treaters opened their sack. Out jumped an enormous pink rabbit. It did not look happy.

"That's not Sandy Claws!" said Jack.

"It isn't?" asked Shock.

"Who is it?" said Barrel.

Jack didn't know. He had never seen a rabbit before, much less a giant Easter Bunny like this. But he was sure of one thing. This wasn't Sandy Claws!

When he said so, Lock, Shock, and Barrel protested.

"We followed your instructions," whined Lock.

"We went through the door," said Barrel.

"Which door?" asked Jack. "I told you there'd be more than one. You were supposed to go through the tree-shaped door!"

He held up a cutout of a Christmas tree.

"Take him back!" he ordered.

The trick-or-treaters were disappointed. So they did what all nasty little demons do when they're disappointed. They started to blame each other. It soon erupted into a huge fight. Shock grabbed Lock's throat. Barrel pounded Shock on the head.

Jack, normally a patient fellow, found his pahence with the trio running out. So he did something he usually saved for the darkest hour of Halloween night. He rattled his bones at them. It was a fearsome sound, and it worked. The trio stopped fighting.

In the silence, Jack turned to the Easter Bunny, whose pink nose was twitching in terror. "I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, sir," he said. "If you'll kindly step back into this sack, my friends will escort you home."

The Easter Bunny didn't need another word of encouragement. He bounded straight back into the sack. As Lock, Shock, and Barrel carried him away, Jack shouted after them, "Take him home first! Aplogize again! And be careful with Sandy Claws when you fetch him! Treat him nicely!"

Jack watched the three trick-or-treaters leave and took a deep breath. Being a mastermind was not easy.

But it did have its rewards, as he discovered the next day. The

moment he saw the Halloweeners preparing Christmas in the town square, Jack's heart began to sing. Everything he saw, from the Evil

Scientist working hard on his skeleton reindeer to Sally stitching

away on a magnificent red Sandy Claws suit, was like a wonderful

dream come true. He skipped through the town square, so happy that

his bony feet barely touched the floor.

There was so much to admire! At one table, a team of vampires strung tiny skull-shaped lights; at another, a group of witches made baby voodoo dolls; and at a third, Halloweenland's hardest-working werewolves toiled away at a magnificent goblin-in-the-box. Jack fairly hummed with joy. This was going to be the most amazing Christmas ever!

Santa Claus thought so, too. Far off in Christmastown, while his elves assembled beautiful toys and baked mouth-watering cookies, cakes and pies, Santa sat in his snow-covered cottage, making his list and checking it twice.

What he read made him shake his head in astonishment. "Nice . . . nice . . . naughty . . . nice . . . nice . . . nice. Amazing!" he murmured. "There are hardly any naughty children this year." His ruddy face beamed. This is going to be a Christmas to remember, he thought happily.

At that moment his doorbell rang. "Now, who could that be?" mused Santa. Reluctantly setting his list down, he lifted himself out of his armchair and walked to the door.

When he opened it, he saw three strange little children smiling up at him. Why were they dressed like a witch, a devil, and a ghoul? Why were they carrying that huge sack? And what, Santa wondered, before everything suddenly went black, did they mean by "trick or treat?"

"You don't look like yourself, Jack, not at all," said Sally the Rag Doll. She and Jack were in the town square, she was helping him on with his new red coat. Sally didn't like much about this strange Christmas holiday, and she didn't like the red coat, either, even though she had sewn it herself. Jack looked so much better, she thought, in the elegant black suit he usually wore.

But Jack was ecstatic. "Isn't this wonderful? It couldn't be more wonderful!" he exclaimed as he buttoned up the coat.

"But you're the Pumpkin King," said Sally, wishing Jack would come to his senses.

He didn't even hear her. As far as he was concerned, he was a million miles from Halloween. Tonight was Christmas Eve, and he was ready for it!

His wonderful coffin-shaped sleigh was loaded with gifts made by the Halloween folk. He was wearing a magnificent Sandy Claws costume, and soon--any minute now! he would be taking off on the adventure of his dreams.

Jack looked at himself in a mirror. Something, he realized, was missing. What was it? He had the coat, the boots, even the big white beard.

Just then he heard his name being called--by Lock, Shock, and Barrel.

"Jack! Jack! We bagged him!" they shrieked, scuttling into the square. They were dragging a huge sack.

"This time we really did it!" crowed Barrel. "He sure is big!"

"And heavy!" added Shock, panting.

"Let me out!" rumbled a voice from inside. Suddenly the sack heaved, rolled, and opened. Out stepped a big fat man with white hair and a white beard. His red clothes were rumpled, his red stocking cap was askew, and his very red face was wet with sweat.

Jack was thrilled. "Sandy Claws!" he cried. "In person! What a pleasure to meet you!"

Santa Claus was not a young man, but he had lived a sheltered life. He had spent most of it with jolly, hardworking elves and the rest with sleeping children, who were at their most angelic because they weren't awake. Making beautiful, festive Christmas gifts and then delivering them to good little girls and boys had not prepared him for--this.

He looked around in horror. Ghouls and monsters, one uglier than the next, pressed in on him, their faces twitching with curiosity. Who were they? And this tall, bony fellow, who was obviously their leader, kept beaming at him foolishly. Why? Santa's mind whirled with a dozen unspoken questions.

"Surprised, aren't you?" said the bony fellow. "I knew you would be! You don't need to have a single worry about Christmas this year. We're handling it. You can have the night off."

Santa's heart nearly stopped. What was this skeleton talking about? Christmas Eve was the high point of his entire year! He had reindeer to drive! Gifts to deliver! And now he was going to be late!

"But, I--!" he gasped, nearly speechless with dismay.

"Think of this as a vacation, Sandy," the bony fellow said. "A chance for you to relax and take it easy." Then he realized what his Sandy Claws costume was missing. He plucked the red cap from Santa's head. "While you rest," he said, "I'll just borrow this."

Worry, anger, and fear did not help Santa's powers of speech. Before he could manage a reply, the three terrible little children who had kidnapped him were dragging him away. Wouldn't anybody help him? This was a nightmare!

"No . . . please wait . . . !" he begged. But the trick-or-treaters' giggling drowned out his pleas.

This is a nightmare! thought Sally the Rag Doll as poor Santa was hauled off. All her fears about Christmas were turning out to be true. It was a disaster. She had to do something. She racked her rag-doll brain. "I know!" she whispered, and slipped away.

Jack, entranced with Santa's red cap, never saw her leave. The cap, he thought, was just the thing to complete his dazzling Christmas outfit. He adjusted it so it sat at a rakish angle on his. skull, then got ready to climb into his sleigh. Once the Mayor

finished his farewell speech, Jack could be Off.

Jack looked up toward the Mayor and blinked. He and everyone else in the crowd looked around in disbelief. A thick white fog had appeared out of nowhere and was swirling through the town square. It was soupy. It was sinister. It was as bone-chilling and blinding as the fog that came on Halloween. And like that fog, it had swallowed everything up.

"Oh no!" groaned Jack "We'll never be able to take off in this. The reindeer can't see an inch in front of their noses."

Out of the fog came moans and complaints, a loud monster chorus of disappointment. Christmas was ruined! How could this be?

Safely hidden by clouds of white mist, one face smiled in relief: the face of Sally the Rag Doll. For it was Sally, of course, who had mixed up a special potion and dumped it in the town fountain. The fog was her creation. Deep in her rag-doll stuffing Sally felt that Christmas could not go on, and she had to stop it. Now it looked as if she had succeeded.

She peered through the thick fog at Jack. Had he given up?

No! He was talking to Zero, his little ghost dog, who hovered in the air with his jack-o'-lantern nose glowing. "Zero, with your nose so bright," Jack asked, "won't you grade my sleigh tonight?" Zero's answer was a bark of excitement and a loop-the-loop through the air.

"I guess that means yes," said Jack with a grin. He turned to the Crowd. "My friends," he announced happily, "Christmas is saved! Zero is going to lead my sleigh through the fog!"

As the crowd whistled and cheered, Zero took his place at the head of the reindeer, his nose shining like a beacon. Jack leapt aboard and cracked his whip.

"We're off!" he cried. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" The sleigh rose into the air to wild applause. Only one note of worry sounded in the crowd, and it was so soft and so sad that not a single creature heard it.

"Good-bye, Jack," whispered Sally. "Oh, how I hope my premonition is wrong!"

As Sally wandered away from the town square, her heart heavy with dread, and as Jack sailed through the skies laughing with joy, Lock, Shock, and Barrel were having a brief, but very interesting, discussion about their prisoner, Santa Claus.

"So, where are we taking him?" asked Barrel.

"To Oogie Boogie, of course," said Lock and Shock.

"Of course!" said Barrel with a nervous giggle. "Oogie will like that."

Santa didn't know who Oogie Boogie was. But he did know that Christmas was in grave danger. Why wouldn't these three terrible little children let him go?

"Haven't you ever heard of peace on earth and goodwill to men?" he asked from inside the sack, struggling to get free.

"No!" cried the trio gleefully. They tightened their grip. This was so much fun!

Jack was having fun as well. He was spreading Christmas cheer throughout the world. Or so he thought. On his first stop, the little boy in the house where he crash-landed had stared at him in silence when he came slithering down the chimney. But when Jack handed the boy a present--one of his very own special shrunken heads--the cries of joy from the little fellow were very loud. Very loud, indeed.

Jack had no idea that he had just given an innocent child the most bloodcurdling shock of his young life. And those sounds he heard as he drove off in his sleigh? They were far from cries of joy. They were shrieks of horror.

As Jack continued on his rounds, delivering dozens of creepy, dark, and gloomy Christmas presents, he heard many shrieks. There were shrieks for the wreath with long arms. Shrieks for the toy grave digger's kit. Shrieks for the miniature electric chair. There were bloodcurdling screams for the eyeball marbles and the slug farms.

Jack was pleased to hear them. But, of course, he didn't know any better. When people screamed, "These presents are horrible!" he thought he was hearing shouts of delight.

So on and on he went, merrily delivering his dreadful gifts, unaware of the havoc he was creating. Time after time he mistook

shouts of anger and disgust for cries of gratitude and answered them with a cheerful "Merry Christmas!" He never heard the doors slamming, the locks clicking, or the frantic telephone calls to the police. As far as Jack was concerned, everyone was having a wonderful time.

He didn't know it, but down below, Jack was considered a criminal. And like a criminal, he was being hunted down--with very powerful guns.

But when Jack first saw the bright searchlights and heard the explosions of gunfire, he was actually pleased.

"Look, Zero!" he cried. "They're celebrating! They're thanking us for doing such a good job!"

Then gunfire nearly struck one of the reindeer. And it began to dawn on Jack that something was very, very wrong....

Long before Jack began to worry, Sally the Rag Doll
knew
that something was wrong. She had seen the explosions in the sky, and the witchvine was abuzz with grim reports that Jack's trip was in trouble.

Something told Sally that if anyone could help, it was Santa. But where was he? At best, he'd be with Lock, Shock, and Barrel. At Worst... he'd be with Oogie Boogie. Sally shuddered from head to toe. What a frightening thought!

But something told her it was so. Sally knew what Lock, Shock, and Barrel were like. And she knew there was only one place those nasty little trick-or-treaters would take their captive--to the underground torture chamber that evil Oogie called home.

So Sally headed for Oogie's lair. And there a terrible sight met her eyes. Oogie's dungeon was dark and dank, wreathed in cobwebs, littered with bones. It was a miserable, hopeless place, and right smack at its center lay Santa, bound hand and foot.

On a giant roulette table was arranged a strange array of gambling paraphernalia from worm-ridden dice to slot machines designed to shoot real bullets. Standing over Santa, grinning with malice, was Oogie Boogie. His huge, baglike body was filled with buzzing bugs, which crawled in and out of his gaping mouth.

Oogie was doing his best to make Santa miserable, and he was succeeding. But then, being creepy, scary, and disgusting was Oogie's job. He was the boogie man, after all. As Sally watched in horror, Oogie danced around Santa, threatening him.

"You're ugly, old man, but you might be tasty," he said, rolling his dice. "And I'm getting hungry. Want to be the main ingredient in a nice snake-and-spider stew? I'll boil you alive! How about it?"