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

my eyes —and saw the boy in black. Behind a tall driveway stone. Watching me.
    Watching me …
    I couldn't take it anymore.
    I let out a scream. I leaped across the driveway and grabbed the boy by the throat.
    “What do you want?” I screamed, shaking him. “Tell me!
Why are you watching me?
”

30
    H IS EYES BULGED. He let out a choked groan.
    I realized I was choking him. I let go of his neck and dropped my hands.
    “Tell me,” I said. “Tell me what you are doing.”
    He rubbed his throat. He had a boy's face, but old eyes. Old and tired, with deep wrinkles underneath.
    “It's my job,” he said. “I'm doing my job.”
    I stared at him.
    A breeze made the leaves in the trees tremble. The moon disappeared behind a wall of clouds. Darkness spread around us.
    “I don't understand,” I said. “Explain yourself. What is your job?”
    “I was hired to watch you,” he said. I waited for him to say more. But he just stared at me, breathing hard.
    “Why?” I asked. “Come on. Explain it. I'm just a kid. Why on earth would someone hire you to watch me?”
    He blinked. “Aren't you Max Boyle?”
    “Excuse me?” It was my turn to blink. “Max
who
?”
    “Aren't you Max Boyle?” he asked, staring hard at me. “Aren't you haunted by three evil ghosts —Larry, Mary, and Maurice? They plan to kill you!”
    My mouth dropped open. It took me a long time to find my voice.
    “Dude, you've made a big mistake,” I said finally.
    He squinted at me. “Mistake?”
    “I'm not Max Boyle,” I said. “I'm Max
Doyle.
And I'm not haunted by three ghosts named Larry, Mary, and Maurice.”
    “Oh, wow!” The boy let out a cry and slapped his forehead. “Oh, wow. Oh, wow. I'm totally embarrassed. I've been watching the
wrong house
!”
    He slapped his forehead again. “This is a major goof-up,” he said. “I'm going to lose my job. I blew it. I totally blew it!”
    “I…I hope Max Boyle is okay,” I said.
    “Goodbye and good luck,” he said. He gave me a quick wave, turned, and vanished into the trees, muttering to himself.
    I stood there for a moment, staring into the darkness. The moon appeared again, and its light washed over the ground.
    “That solves that mystery,” I said to myself.
    When I got home, I found Nicky and Tara waiting for me in my room. Nicky was playing with my Game Boy. Tara had a book in her lap.
    She dropped it when she saw me and came rushing over. “Max, where were you? Nicky and I were worried.”
    “I was at the swimming pool,” I said. “I thought maybe you'd be there to help me.”
    “Swimming pool?” Nicky said, putting down the Game Boy. “Isn't this a weird time to go for a swim?”
    I sighed. “You were right about Quentin,” I told them. “He's a bad dude.”
    I told them the whole story about Mayor Stank and about how Quentin was his son and how they'd wanted to make me swim two hundred laps at the new swimming pool.
    They listened quietly, shaking their heads and
tsk-tsk
ing.
    “I hope you learned your lesson,” Tara said when I finished. “You should always listen to us.”
    “Yeah,” Nicky agreed. “You know, your party was a total flop because we weren't there.”
    “I'm sorry,” I said. “I was totally wrong. I should have invited you. I lost my temper, and I was wrong.”
    Tara grinned. “Go on apologizing, Max. I like it.”
    So I apologized some more.
    I apologized until my phone rang.
    It was nearly midnight. Who would be calling so late at night?
    I picked it up and heard Traci's voice. “Max? When is your party?” she asked. “I forgot to write it down. Is it this week or next?”
    TO BE CONTINUED

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
    Robert Lawrence Stine's scary stories have made him one of the bestselling children's authors in history. “Kids like to be scared!” he says, and he has proved it by selling more than 300 million books. R.L. teamed up with Parachute Press to createFear Street, the first and number one bestselling young adult horror series. He then