Spell of the Screaming Jokers (8 page)

All red and black must bow to green . . . .

For she alone is now our queen!”

“Let's get out of here!” Jeff yelled.

We broke through the horrible circle—and ran.

The jokers came after us. One of them whacked Louisa with its skull-stick.

“Split up!” I screamed.

We broke off in different directions.

I darted across the street. So did Frankie. Then we ran opposite ways. I glanced over my shoulder.

None of the jokers were chasing me.

Oh, no! They were
all
after Frankie.

What were they going to do to him?

I
spun and ran after him. “We have to help Frankie!” I cried to the others.

The jokers grabbed Frankie. They held him by his arms and legs—and dragged him down the street.

They pulled him into the vacant lot across from Mrs. Marder's. The lot with the big hole in the ground.

Jeff and Louisa raced over to me. Louisa was clutching her arm.

“Brit! It got me!” she cried. “One of the jokers hit my arm and—look!”

Next to the club on Louisa's arm was a diamond.

“Help!” Frankie's cry rang out from the lot. “Help me!”

We raced over to the lot. But when we got there, Frankie was nowhere to be seen. Neither were the jokers.

“Frankie?” my voice shook. “Where are you?”

As if answering me, the jokers popped out of the hole.

They laughed an evil laugh. They shook their skull-sticks hard. Then they ran off.

Louisa, Jeff, and I ran to the edge of the hole. We peered in. Frankie stood at the bottom, staring down.

“Frankie?” Jeff called. “You can come up. They're gone.”

Frankie didn't move.

“Come on, Frankie. It's really okay,” I said.

Frankie stared down, motionless.

“You're scaring me, Frankie!” Louisa cried.

“Let's pull him out,” Jeff suggested.

The three of us leaned over the hole. We grabbed Frankie's arms.

“One, two, three!” Jeff called, and we pulled.

Frankie didn't fight us. But he didn't help either. We struggled—but we finally tugged him out.

Jeff, Louisa, and I fell back on the ground, trying to catch our breath.

Frankie sat in the dirt, staring into space.

“Oh, no!” Louisa cried. “Look! Frankie's arm!”

I was afraid to look. But I did.

There it was.

A heart.

“Oh, no, Frankie,” I moaned. “You have all four suits!”

What will happen now? I wondered. What will those horrible jokers do to him next?

Frankie glanced up, as if reading my thoughts.

I gazed into his face—and screamed.

His eyes bulged from their sockets.

His mouth twisted in a horrible grin.

His tongue hung out of his mouth.

“Frankie!” I cried. I turned frantically to Jeff and Louisa.

They were staring at Frankie in horror. They began to shrink away from him.

I turned back.

“Frankie?” I gasped.

He seemed to have shrunk.

He wore a shiny black clown suit. And a green floppy hat with bells at the tip. And little green pointy shoes.

Frankie grinned horribly at us.

Only he wasn't Frankie anymore.

H
e was a joker!

Frankie opened his mouth and let out a terrible scream.

Then he whirled around and ran off, laughing.

He headed for Fear Street.

“Let's follow him!” I yelled.

We chased him as he ran down the street, letting out little shrieks.

He ran fast. Faster than we could.

He ran to the end of the street and turned.

When we reached the corner, he was gone.

“That was so awful!” Louisa moaned. “Poor Frankie!”

“That's what will happen to
us
if we don't stop Mrs. Marder!” I exclaimed.

“We should go to Max's house right now,” Louisa declared. “And call the police.”

We turned down Fear Street and ran on to Max's.

It felt strange to be standing on his porch without Frankie.

Louisa rang the bell.

No one answered.

Louisa pressed the bell again—but no one came to the door.

“That's weird,” Jeff said. “Mrs. Davidson knew we were coming.”

I pounded on the door. As I did, it opened. I stuck my head in. “Mrs. Davidson?” I called.

She didn't answer.

“We have to hurry!” Louisa exclaimed. “Mrs. Davidson won't mind if we go in and call the police.”

“Right,” Jeff agreed. “This is an emergency!”

We hurried inside.

“First let's see if Max is in his room,” I suggested. “He might get frightened if he hears someone in the house.”

We ran down the hall to Max's room.

Max sat in his bed, wearing his white pajamas. Shuffling a deck of cards.

“Max?” I spoke softly so I wouldn't startle him. “Hi!”

He turned to face us. “Oh, hi,” he greeted us. “Want to play Hearts?”

“No!” Louisa exclaimed. She rushed over to his bed. “You know those awful jokers, Max?”

He nodded.

“They came alive. They attacked Frankie,” Louisa told him. “And he changed! Right in front of us, Frankie turned into a joker!”

Max's pale blue eyes grew wide with fright. I hoped hearing bad news wasn't going to make him sicker.

“We have to use your phone,” Jeff put in. “We have to call the police.”

“The phone's in the kitchen, right?” I asked him.

But Max didn't answer. He was mumbling something. At first I couldn't understand him. But slowly the words became clear.

“She's done it!” Max was saying. “She's done it! She's done it!” He chanted over and over.

“Max!” I cried. “Stop that! You're making it worse!”

Max's eyes turned to meet mine.

“Don't you see, Brittany?” he asked softly. “She's done it! It's too late. We're all doomed. All of us!”

“M
ax!” I cried. “What are you saying? You're scaring me!”

But Max didn't answer me. He kept repeating, “We're doomed. We're doomed.” I wondered if he had a fever or something.

Luckily, at that moment, Mrs. Davidson appeared in the doorway of his room.

“Hi, kids!” she exclaimed. “Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived. But I'm glad you came today!” She smiled as she walked into the room.

“Mrs. Davidson, we have to call the police,” Louisa blurted out. “Something awful has happened to Frankie!”

“They got him!” Jeff sputtered. “They got Frankie!”

“Who got him?” Mrs. Davidson cried.

“They got him!” Jeff repeated. He was getting more upset by the second. “They got him!”

Mrs. Davidson gasped. “Has he been kidnapped?”

We all started talking at once then.

“Wait! Wait!” she cried. “If Frankie's been kidnapped, I'd better call the police right now!”

“Yes!” we all cried. “Call the police!”

Mrs. Davidson hurried from the room.

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

At last someone was helping us!

“She's done it,” Max kept muttering. “She's done it!”

“Take it easy, Max,” I said. “Everything is going to be okay now.”

Max gazed up at me with his pale blue eyes. “She's crazy, Brittany,” he whispered. “Completely crazy. You know that, don't you?”

“I know she's evil,” I said. “Poor Frankie! Maybe that's where he ran. Maybe he ran to her house—”

“Brittany?” Louisa cut in. “Mrs. Davidson doesn't really know what happened. I think
we
should talk to the police. We have to tell them everything—right now! The sooner we tell them, the sooner they can help Frankie!”

“That makes sense,” I said. “I'll catch Mrs. Davidson before she hangs up.”

I ran down the hall. As I neared the kitchen, I heard Mrs. Davidson's voice through the door.

“No, Officer,” she was saying. “These kids wouldn't lie! They wouldn't say their friend had been kidnapped if he hadn't been!”

Mrs. Davidson sure was sticking up for us!

I pushed open the kitchen door. Mrs. Davidson had her back to me.

“Why, Officer!” she exclaimed. “That's a terrible thing to say. I assure you these kids are not making this up!”

I opened my mouth to say something to Mrs. Davidson.

Then I closed it.

I stared at Mrs. Davidson.

I tried to make sense of what I saw.

But I couldn't.

“Yes, Officer,” Mrs. Davidson said. “You have my word.”

Mrs. Davidson was talking.

But she wasn't on the phone.

The phone hung on the wall across the room from Mrs. Davidson.

It was an old phone.

Too old to be a speakerphone.

“Can you come and talk to these kids, Officer?” Mrs. Davidson asked. “Yes, right this minute. The sooner you get here, the sooner you can get to work on this case.”

But Mrs. Davidson wasn't talking to the police.

She wasn't talking to anyone!

I
stood there, frozen.

I stared at Mrs. Davidson's back as she pretended to talk to the police.

I stared at her beautiful apple-green blouse and her dark green slacks . . . and her green suede shoes . . . .

And gasped.

You play her game! She'll make you pay!

All red and black must bow to green . . . .

For she alone is now our queen!

I backed silently out of the kitchen. I let the door close without a sound.

Then I turned and charged up to Max's room. I shut the door behind me.

“Brittany!” Louisa cried. “What's wrong? You look pale.”

“I—I went into the kitchen,” I croaked. “Mrs. Davidson didn't see me. She was talking—telling the police to come. But, Louisa—she wasn't on the phone! She was only pretending to make the call!”