Free The Dreadful Future of Blossom Culp by Richard Peck

witness.
    Alexander strolled up. “Well, Blossom, here is the deal. Letty—several of us officers have decided on the various attractions for our Haunted House. Tess and Bess, dressed up as bats, will flit around in the attic. Ione and Harriet and several others will jump out of closets at people. And we’re going to dress Champ Ferguson up as a monster, and—”
    “Champ Ferguson isn’t a freshman,” I reminded him.
    “I know, but he’s almost six foot tall, and we need a monster that size. Nobody’ll know him when we get him disguised.”
    “And what part are you playing in this, Alexander?”
    He drew himself up. “I’m in charge of the dungeon, which is in the cellar. I’ll be leading customers around in the dark down there and letting them feel the deadman’s remains. We’ll have a couple of peeled grapes for his eyes and a wet sponge for his brain and some warm spaghetti for his guts and—”
    “Hold it,” I said. “I’ve heard enough. Where do I come in on this deal?”
    “You’ll be the star attraction,” he said, “sort of.”
    “Is that a fact.”
    “Sure. You’re to dress up like a witch—you can borrow some of your mama’s clothes—and tell people’s fortunes. We’ll charge them an extra nickel for the reading.”
    I gave this some thought. Considering the other corn-fed plans they had for their so-called Haunted House, they could use a star attraction. And they knew it, too. It’s a sight how agreeable people can be when they want something out of you.
    “Of course,” Alexander said, “you can just fake the fortune-telling part.”
    I bristled. “Fake it? What for? I’ll remind you, Alexander, I got Powers and the Second Sight, same as you. You know yourself me and you can see the Unseen and glimpse Other Worlds if we put our minds to it.”
    “Well, just hush up about that,” Alexander said, glancing nervously around. “I have left all that kind of thing behind me, and I don’t care to discuss it. Besides, I don’t think we have those powers anymore.” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t been troubled in that way for quite a spell now. I expect it was just a stage that we have outgrown.”
    “Is that a fact,” I replied. “Gimme your hand.”
    He thrust both his hands into his pockets.
    “Gimme your hand, and be quick about it.” When I got him to stretch out a hand, I turned it palm up and ran my fingers lightly over it, squinting hard.
    “Hmmmmm,” says I, “that’s real interesting, that is.”
    “Knock it off, Blossom.”
    “Oh, yes, I see it clear now.” I pointed at random to a little line running across his palm. “Danger lurks in your immediate future.”
    “Cut it out, Blossom.”
    “No question about it,” I said. “I see . . . I see a dark and windswept night. Not Halloween. No. Sooner than that.” Alexander’s hand quivered in mine. “I see two—no, three shadowy figures. And . . . what’s this? A porch! That’s it, a porch. I see these three figures carrying something . . . a sack. PEEE-YEW ,” I said. “It stinks. I see these three figures carrying this smelly sack up onto the porch.”
    I checked Alexander’s face to see how he was taking this. His eyes were growing wary and dark.
    “I see these three figures touching a match to thisnasty sack . . . in front of the door. They’re laughing like fools and punching each other on the arms. They’re ringing the doorbell now and scampering off the porch. But lo and behold! Something they didn’t expect is about to—”
    Alexander grabbed his hand away. His ears were burning bright, and his friendly mood was forgotten.
    “Very funny, Blossom,” he sneered. “As if I didn’t know where you came by that information.”
    “It’s all there in your hand, Alexander. As you can see, I’m a first-rate fortune-teller. I could tell more if I felt like it, which I don’t.”
    “You’re a first-rate snoop, Blossom. You’ve snooped on me at the . . . swimming hole, and