Free Nighty-Nightmare by James Howe Page A

Chester, meanwhile, was curled up happily shedding on his favorite brown velvet armchair, an open book in front of him and a contented-on-its-way-to-becoming-smug smile on his face.
    â€œWhy aren’t you going crazy like everybody else?” I demanded. “What’s your secret?”
    His smile grew more knowing. “Books,” he said, with a nod to the one in front of him, “are not only windows to the world, dear Harold, they are pathways to inner peace.”
    I shook my head. “I’ve tried books,” I said. “Fifteen minutes and all I ended up with was cardboard breath.”
    â€œTry reading them instead of chewing them,” Chester advised.
    â€œOh.” This hadn’t occurred to me.
    Chester is a big reader. The problem is that his reading often gets us into trouble—especially considering the
kinds
of books he likes to read.
    â€œSo what are you reading about now?” I asked. “The supernatural?”
    â€œThe paranormal,” he said.
    â€œWell, that’s a relief. Pair of normal what?”
    â€œNo, Harold, not a ‘pair of normal,’ the
paranormal.
How shall I explain this? The paranormal are experiences that are . . . beyond explanation. Like Bunnicula, for example.”
    Chester believes our little bunny is a vampire.
    â€œOr Howie.”
    â€œHowie?”
    â€œI’m still convinced he’s part werewolf. That’s no ordinary howl on that dog.”
    â€œUh-huh,” I said.
    â€œOr,” Chester went on, if I may use the expression with regard to a cat, doggedly, “haven’t you ever felt that something was about to happen, you just knew it in your bones, and then, bam! it happened?”
    A chill ran down my spine. “Chester!” I cried. “I had a paranormal experience just the other night.”
    Chester’s eyes lit up. “Really? Tell me about it, Harold.”
    â€œWell, it was after dinner and I was lying over there by the sofa, where Howie’s sleeping now and . . . I was yawning and I felt my eyes growing heavy ...”
    â€œYes? Go on.”
    â€œAnd I had this overpowering feeling that I was about to . . .”
    â€œWhat, Harold? Oh, this is really exciting. Go ahead.”
    â€œThat I was about to fell asleep. And I did.”
    Chester looked at me for a long time without speaking. “And do you have the feeling that you’re about to experience pain?” he asked at last.
    â€œYou mean right now? Well, no.”
    The book fell off the chair. It landed on my paw.
    â€œOw!” I cried.
    â€œNever discount the paranormal,” were Chester’s parting words, and he jumped down and headed toward the kitchen in search of a midnight snack.
    I wanted to whimper but no one was around or awake enough to hear. This made me ask myself the question, If a tree falls on a dog in the forest, does the dog make a sound? I was eager to share this provocative conversation starter with Chester when my gaze fell on the open pages at my feet. I began to read.
    Harriet M. of Niskayuna, New York, reports the fascinating case of the
phantom telephone conversation.
“1 had been talking with my sister
Shirley for seventeen minutes late one afternoon before I noticed that the phone plug was disconnected,” she writes. “The next day I told Shirley what had happened and when. Stunned, she informed me that she had had oral surgery just two hours prior to the phantom conversation and her mouth was wired shut. She would have been incapable of speaking to me even if the phone
had
been hooked up!”
    Incredibly, Harriet herself suffered such extreme tooth pain the following day that she too was forced to undergo emergency oral surgery. While under the effects of anesthesia, she recalled her sister’s words during their nonexistent (??) conversation: “That new dentist is so cute. Yd do anything to see him, wouldn’t you?”
    â€œAmazing stuff,