Charlie Bumpers vs. the Squeaking Skull by Bill Harley Page A

on earth on Halloween!
    Tommy and I smiled at each other.
    “Sure,” I said.
    “How many bags should we bring?” Tommy asked.
    “As many as you want,” Alex said. “It’s going to be awesome. And I’m going to get some horror movies.”

    “I love scary movies,” Tommy said.
    “I hope we can get
The Shrieking Skull,
” Alex said. “It’s the scariest horror movie ever!”
    “Fantastic!” Tommy said.
    “Ask your parents if you can come,” Alex said. “We’ll eat candy and pizza until we throw up, and then watch scary movies and scream like crazy.”
    “Stupific!” Tommy said.
    “Super stupific,” I said.
    Halloween with friends. Lots of candy. All of it
was
really stupific.
    Except for one thing.
    I HATE horror movies.

2
Maybe I Am a Dorky Chicken
    I know I’m supposed to like scary movies—everyone talks about how great they are—but I don’t.
    One Friday night when I was in second grade, Matt talked our mom into letting us watch a scary movie together as a family. The Squid was only four and was already in bed. My dad wasn’t really paying attention, and he fell asleep on the couch (as usual) right after the movie started.
    The phone rang and my mom left the room to talk, and then it was just Matt and me watching the movie.
    I was doing okay until this really creepy-looking guy started up the stairs to where the kids were all having a sleepover. The kids were acting like bozos and making a lot of noise, so they didn’t hear him moaning outside their door. “I don’t like this,” I whispered to Matt.
    “Shhhh,” said Matt. “This is the best part.”
    “Does something bad happen?” I asked.
    “Just be quiet and watch!”
    I was getting really nervous. I wanted to tell the kids in the movie that something awful was going to happen. But they were laughing and acting like there was no such thing as a creepy-looking guy who wanted to get them all.
    Like I said, they were bozos.
    “I don’t want to see this,” I said.

    “Shhhh!” Matt said again.
    I squinched my eyes almost shut and hugged my pillow to my chest.
    “Watch!” Matt said. “Don’t be such a chicken!”
    So I watched. I wished I hadn’t.
    When the creepy-looking guy’s ax chopped through the door, I screamed so loud that Mom came back.
    She turned off the movie and told us to go to bed. Matt complained that he should be allowed to watch the rest of it, but Mom said she didn’t like us watching that kind of horror stuff and she didn’t know why she even let Matt choose the movie to begin with.
    Then Dad woke up and grumbled, “Everybody go to bed.”
    I was relieved. But Matt was disgusted. “Dorky chicken,” he grumbled at me as we headed upstairs.
    Maybe he was right. Maybe I am a dorky chicken.
    I can’t help it. I just don’t like scary movies.
    I really wanted to go to Alex’s on Halloween to be with my friends.
    But not with
The Shrieking Skull.

3
Trickier Than I’d Thought
    When I got home from school, I took our dog, Ginger, on her walk. After that I sat at the kitchen table and made myself some peanut butter and crackers.
    The Squid came running in. “Guess what, Charlie?” she asked. “It’s almost Halloween! I can’t wait!”
    “Uh-huh,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about Halloween with her. Not until I’d talked to Mom about going to Alex’s.
    “Aren’t you excited?” she asked. “What’s your costume? Have you even decided?” Sometimes the Squid just keeps asking questions. Once, when shewas four, my dad counted how many questions she asked in a day. It was over five hundred.
    “I don’t know yet,” I said.
    “Will you go as a ghost?”
    “No,” I said. What a dumb idea.
    “What about a pumpkin?”
    “No!”
    “What about a giant bug?”
    “No, Mabel! Quit bugging me. You’re the one who should be a bug.”
    “I can’t be a bug,” the Squid said, stuffing a cracker into her mouth. “I’m going as a bunch of grapes. But you’d better think of a costume, or you