The Creepy Sleep-Over
Beverly Lewis Books for Young Readers
PICTURE BOOKS
In Jesse’s Shoes • Just Like Mama
What Is God Like? • What Is Heaven Like?
THE CUL-DE-SAC KIDS
The Double Dabble Surprise
The Chicken Pox Panic
The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery
No Grown-ups Allowed
Frog Power
The Mystery of Case D. Luc
The Stinky Sneakers Mystery
Pickle Pizza
Mailbox Mania
The Mudhole Mystery
Fiddlesticks
The Crabby Cat Caper
Tarantula Toes
Green Gravy
Backyard Bandit Mystery
Tree House Trouble
The Creepy Sleep-Over
The Great TV Turn-Off
Piggy Party
The Granny Game
Mystery Mutt
Big Bad Beans
The Upside-Down Day
The Midnight Mystery
Katie and Jake and the Haircut Mistake
www.BeverlyLewis.com
© 1998 by Beverly Lewis
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6074-1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Cover illustration by Paul Turnbaugh
Text illustrations by Janet Huntington
For
Peggy Littleton’s first grade class
at
Colorado Springs Christian
Elementary School
Patrick Antrim
Brooke Humphreys
Julia Bennett
Kirsten Kruger
Matthew Fenlason
Amanda Lenehan
Adam Fekula
Cole Moberly
Conner Fitzgerald
Christopher Murphy
Brynden Flick
Luke Nelson
Rebecca Glisan
Chelsea Samelson
Eric Goldberg
Marielle Sheppel
Mark Hernandez
P.Y. Young
Carisa Hoogenboom
Blake Wittenberg
Jessica Hollingsworth
Aide: Sue Obenauf
Contents
Cover
Beverly Lewis Books for Young Readers
Title page
Copyright page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
The Cul-de-sac Kids
About the Author
Other Books by Author
Back Cover
ONE
It was a super Saturday.
Dunkum Mifflin was jumpin’ happy. He slam-dunked his basketball. Three times in a row! Hoo-ray!
His name was on Miss Hershey’s reading list. He’d checked it twice. He’d made his reading goal. Twenty-five books in all!
The reward was a sleep-over at the teacher’s house. Eight kids from Miss Hershey’s class were going.
They’d eat pizza and junk food. And ice-cream sundaes and root-beer floats.
Best of all, they were spending the night!
Eric Hagel and Jason Birchall arrived at Dunkum’s house. They passed the ball around. They talked about the sleep-over.
“Where’s Miss Hershey’s house, anyway?” Dunkum asked.
Jason didn’t know exactly.
Eric didn’t, either. “She used to be on my paper route. But not anymore,” he said.
“Did she move?” Dunkum asked.
Eric scratched his head. “Guess so.”
“Somewhere out in the country,” Jason piped up. “I heard it’s a haunted mansion!”
“How do you know?” Dunkum asked.
Eric and Jason laughed. “Everyone says so,” replied Eric.
“Everyone?” Dunkum said.
“Well, you know.” Jason crossed his eyes. “It’s gonna be such a cool sleep-over. Even if the house is haunted.”
Eric agreed. “I still can’t believe it. Did I really read all those books?”
Jason grinned. “Your name’s on Miss Hershey’s list, right?”
Eric nodded and passed the ball to Dunkum.
Dunkum shot up . . . up . . . whoosh! “Anyone else going from our cul-de-sac?”
“Abby and Stacy are,” Eric replied.
“Abby oughta be going. She read over fifty books,” Jason said.
“Wow! How’d she do it?” Dunkum asked.
“She’s a bookworm. That’s how.” Eric laughed.
Dunkum was thrilled. Most of his friends were going to the sleep-over.
“I heard Miss Hershey tells bedtime stories,” Eric said. “Spooky ones.”
“Yeah, better watch out,” Jason warned.
“How come?” Dunkum asked.
“She likes stuff by Edgar Allen Poe,” said Eric. “Every year, same thing.”
“Who’s this Poe dude?” asked Dunkum.
Jason started laughing. “Edgar Allen Poe wrote mystery stories and poems. Ever hear of ‘The Raven’? It’s famous.”
“Nope,” Dunkum said.
“Well, you’ll hear it plenty,” Eric said.
Jason flapped his arms. “Sounds wingy-dingy. Get it? Ravens have wings—”
“Aw . . . Jason, act your age,” Dunkum scolded.
“Whatever,” Jason muttered and stopped flying around.
The boys shot some more baskets. “How do you know about the sleep-over?” Dunkum asked Eric.
“Miss Hershey has one every year. The kids from last year’s class told me.” Eric’s voice was low and quiet. “They told me ALL about it.”
Dunkum hoped the sleep-over wasn’t too scary. He wasn’t a scaredy-cat or anything. He just didn’t like creepy things.
Jason interrupted his thoughts. “You’re not afraid of haunted mansions, are you?” He made his voice sound spooky. “Oooooooooooow!” he squealed.
“You don’t scare me!” Dunkum said.
“But Miss Hershey will,” teased Jason.
Dunkum dribbled the ball hard. He leaped up and dunked it. That’s how he got his nickname—Dunkum. His real name was Edward. But nobody called him that. He was Dunkum—the tallest and best hoop shooter around.
Dunkum thought hard as he aimed the basketball. Jason could say all he wanted. But their teacher was the best. She wouldn’t plan a creepy sleep-over.
No way. Dunkum didn’t believe it for one second!
TWO
It was Friday morning.
Heavy snow was falling. First storm of the New Year.
Miss Hershey’s class was all bunched up. Their teeth chattered as they huddled near the outside door.
Dunkum was glad for his heavy jacket. “Tonight’s the sleep-over at Miss Hershey’s house,” he said.
“Maybe we
’ll get snowed in,” Jason said.
Abby grinned. “I wouldn’t mind. I heard about Miss Hershey’s old house,” she said. “She has eight cats. And she likes Mozart—played in a minor key. Perfect for a haunted mansion, you know.”
Sounds like a haunted cat shelter, thought Dunkum.
The first bell rang. Miss Hershey’s classroom door swung open. She greeted the students. “Hurry, hurry, children. Come in where it’s warm.”
Dunkum liked her cheerful voice. She was saying things his mom might say on a cold day. He watched her smiling face.
She was cool. Really, really cool! Miss Hershey couldn’t possibly live in a haunted mansion.
Could she?
The teacher wrote the date on the board. January 19.
“Today is a famous person’s birthday,” she said. “Does anyone know who?”
Abby Hunter raised her hand.
“Yes, Abby?”
“It’s Edgar Allen Poe’s birthday. He was born in 1809,” Abby recited.
Dunkum’s hand shot up.
“Yes, Dunkum?” said Miss Hershey.
“Poe was a mystery writer.” Dunkum grinned. He was glad Eric and Jason had filled him in earlier.
Miss Hershey nodded and smiled. “That’s right. Poe was born almost two hundred years ago today.”
Dunkum listened as Miss Hershey told about Edgar Allan Poe. “He was an American poet. A short story writer, too,” she said.
Dunkum liked short stories. He’d even written a few himself.
“Poe’s works are almost like music,” said Miss Hershey.
Dunkum had never heard such a thing. He’d read tons of books. Lots of them! But he’d never found tunes hidden in the words or sentences.
He didn’t get it. What did Miss Hershey mean?
By recess, the ground was covered white. But the snow had stopped.
Some of the Cul-de-sac Kids made a fort. Abby and Stacy helped pack down the snow.
Dunkum and Jason carried armfuls of white wet stuff.
Eric and Shawn made little cannon-balls out of snow.
Dunkum kept thinking about Miss Hershey’s house. “Why does she live in a mansion?” he asked Eric.
“She’s weird, that’s why,” Eric said.
“How can you say that?” Dunkum replied.
“Well, she lives with a bunch of cats. No husband, no kids,” Jason chimed in. “Isn’t that kinda weird?”
“So what? Not everyone gets married,” Eric said.
Dunkum knew that was true. His mother’s cousin was almost forty and still single.
Whoosh! He plopped down a pile of snow near the fort. “Being single’s not weird.” Dunkum sighed. “I wanna know why she lives in a mansion.”
“Maybe she’s rich,” Abby spoke up.
Stacy shook her head. “I doubt it.”
“How come?” Dunkum asked.
“Teachers don’t make much money. Besides, she doesn’t dress rich,” Stacy said.
“No diamond rings or bracelets,” added Abby.
Dunkum thought about that. “Miss Hershey dresses real pretty, though.”
“And her hair’s always perfect,” Abby said.
“Maybe she gives her money away . . . to poor kids,” Dunkum said.
“Hey! I’m poor,” Jason laughed. He twirled his glasses around.
“Grow up,” spouted Dunkum. “You’re rich compared to some kids.”
“Yeah, kids in India, for starters!” Abby said.
Dunkum gave Abby a high five.
Jason made a face and scooped up a handful of wet snow.
POW!
He threw the snowball hard.
Dunkum dodged out of the way, laughing.
Br-r-i-i-ing! The recess bell rang.
“What’ll we do about the fort?” Dunkum said. It was only half finished.
“We’ll work on it later,” Eric said.
The Cul-de-sac Kids agreed and ran toward the school.
Dunkum didn’t line up right away. He checked out the fort. It was really cool. It had a large main entrance, curved like a cave. There were lookout holes on the top and sides.
Making the fort with his friends gave him a good feeling. Abby would call it double dabble good.
But he didn’t feel so great about something else. Miss Hershey’s house.
Was it really haunted?
THREE
Lunch recess came fast.
The Cul-de-sac Kids crawled around inside the snow fort. “This is better than making a snowman,” Eric said. “And we’ve made lots of them.”
Dunkum wasn’t interested in a snowman. Something else was on his mind: the teacher’s cats. “What’s with Miss Hershey’s cats? Why so many?” he asked.
Abby looked surprised. “She loves them, that’s why.”
“But eight cats? C’mon!” Dunkum answered.
“That’s way too many,” said Eric.
Jason was nodding his head. “I heard she willed her mansion to them.”
“What’s that mean?” Dunkum asked.
Abby spoke up. “When she dies, her cats get the house.”
Dunkum couldn’t believe his ears! He’d heard of fat cats, but rich cats?
Abby giggled. “They’re like her children, I guess.”
Dunkum shook his head. “Aren’t we her children? Well, you know. . .”
Jason started jigging inside the snow fort. “Mama Hershey. . . Mama Hershey,” he chanted.
The kids laughed, holding their stomaches. “You’re crazy, Jason Birchall,” shouted Eric.
Dunkum thought the same thing. Jason was a little crazy.
Finally, Stacy told Jason to quit dancing. “It’s too crowded in here. Go outside and do your jig.”
But Jason wouldn’t listen. He kept it up. “Just wait’ll tonight,” he said in a weird voice. “Miss Hershey’s house will be dark as midnight. There’s no streetlights out there in the country. There’ll be spooky music, too.”
Eric joined in. “And don’t forget all those cats.” He and Jason were cackling like hens.
“Cats don’t scare me,” said Dunkum.
“What about black ones?” Jason joked. “How’d ya like a sleep-over with eight black cats?”
Abby put a stop to it. “Nobody knows what color Miss Hershey’s cats are. It doesn’t really matter anyway.”
“Abby’s right,” said Eric. “But what about the bathroom? What color is that?”
Eric, Abby, and Stacy started laughing again.
“Hey! What’s so funny?” Dunkum asked. “Who says Miss Hershey even has a bathroom?”
“Yeah, who says?” Jason said.
Abby waved her hands. “Whoa! Miss Hershey’s a human being. People need bathrooms, right?”
Eric’s eyes were wide. “But she’s our teacher, so that makes her special. And different.”
Jason stopped jigging. “Then maybe she does have a bathroom and wears pajamas . . . and takes out the trash.”
“Well, why not?” said Abby.
Dunkum didn’t want to hear about Miss Hershey’s pj’s or her garbage. He wanted to know if her house was haunted. And how she discovered music in Poe’s poetry.
Dunkum’s mom helped him roll up his sleeping bag. They tied it neatly.
“Don’t forget your toothbrush,” his mother said. “And your warmest pj’s.”
Dunkum remembered his flashlight. He wanted to take it along for sure. “Anything else?” he asked.
His mother went down the teacher’s checklist. “Let’s see.” Her finger slid over the page. “I think everything’s packed now.”
“It’s just one night. I don’t need much,” Dunkum said.
His mother looked over the list again. “What about stuffed animals?” she asked. “It says you may bring two animals each.”
Dunkum wondered about his friends. He’d heard Abby and Stacy talking. They were taking teddy bears. Two of the bears were going dressed as brides.
Dunkum had never seen a te
ddy bear in a bride’s gown. It’s yucky girl stuff, he thought.
“I’m leaving my stuffed animals home,” he said. Dunkum couldn’t imagine Eric taking stuffed animals.
But Jason Birchall? Well, maybe . . .
Lately, Jason had gone pet crazy. He had a bunch of stuffed animals—snakes, lizards, and raccoons. Jason also had some strange real-life pets. Very strange.
Dunkum didn’t want to think about Jason’s bullfrog. And especially not Jason’s tarantula! Why did people keep so many pets, anyway?
The thought of Miss Hershey’s eight cats bugged him, too. But he pushed the pet thoughts aside. Nothing could spoil his reward. He had read twenty-five books and was going to his teacher’s house!
Dunkum could almost taste the pizza. And the ice-cream sundaes. It was going to be a sleep-over to remember.
No matter what!
FOUR
Miss Hershey’s house sat high on a hill.
It didn’t look like a mansion. Not a castle, either. But it was big . . . and old. Like a fairy tale house with a snowy roof.
“Wow!” Dunkum whispered.
His mother drove into the driveway.
Dunkum noticed tall trees along the road. And the icicles hanging from the porch. “What a cool place,” he said.
“Sure is.” His mom chuckled. “May I come to the sleep-over, too?” She was only teasing, of course.
It’s too pretty to be haunted, Dunkum thought.
His eyes drifted over the area. A pair of stone lions caught his attention. They were statues, perched near the front door. One on each side.
“Hey! Look there,” he said, pointing.
“Lions with full manes,” his mother said. “I wonder where she bought them.”
Dunkum stared at the lions. He didn’t care about their manes or where his teacher had found them. He was looking at their mouths. They were closed!
Good, he thought. These lions aren’t scary.
But it was daylight. Things always looked better in the light.
“You’re going to have a great time,” his mother said.
Dunkum waved good-bye. “See ya tomorrow!”
“Welcome,” Miss Hershey said at the door.
“Thank you,” Dunkum replied. He glanced at the lion statues once more and went inside.
Abby and Stacy were there. They were sitting near a lamp with fringes. Dunkum had never seen a lampshade like that. Must be old, he thought.