The Elevator Ghost by Glen Huser Page B

said another ghostly figure. This one wore an eyepatch and packed a huge pistol in one hand. “I decide how you will die this evening and join our crew.”
    Before Barney could say anything, a sailor with a wooden leg and a hook in place of his left hand yelled, “I’m the one who saw him at the railing, just ripe for the picking. I say we make him walk the plank. We haven’t had a good plank-walking for a hundred years.”

    At this, the ghostly sailor with the hat began to jump up and down.
    â€œI’m the captain,” he hollered. “And I want him keel-hauled. Run him underneath the ship a couple of times.”
    â€œNo, it’s my turn , ” the ghost with the eyepatch screamed. “You killed the last one. Remember? Flogged him to death.” He pointed at a sad-looking shadowy figure at the ship’s helm.
    â€œMINE!” the captain screamed and drew his sword. He lopped off the good hand of the Tantrumolo with the hook. The ghostly hand flew through the air and began slapping the captain across the face.
    The wounded Tantrumolo howled, “TAKE THAT, YOU POCK-FACED BILGE RAT!”
    The ghost with the eyepatch raised his pistol and yelled, “MINE! MINE! MINE! I’M THE ONE WHAT KNOCKED THE SHIP AND GOT HIM INTO THE BRINE!”
    He shot holes into the others, which didn’t seem to have much effect, being as they were already ghosts. But it did make them even madder.
    In no time the entire crew of the Horribilis had become a whirlwind of ghostly sailors screaming at one another. Swords clanged. Oaths flew along with knives and buckshot.
    â€œDIE, SCUM! MEET YOUR MAKER, YOU MURKY MUSKETEER!”
    â€œI’LL SWASH YOUR BUCKLE, YOU BILIOUS BABOON!”
    Barrels of rum were thrown about and smashed so that Barney had trouble staying upright on the slippery deck. Ripped sails fluttered down like ribbons. Even the ship itself seemed to heave and groan.
    Barney decided that anything was better than staying aboard the Horribilis, and he leaped over the side.
    Bits of flotsam and jetsam were scattered around where he landed in the water. He grabbed hold of an empty barrel that kept him afloat.
    Gradually the ghost ship and its horrible screams and yelling and musket fire drifted away, and Barney was all alone, floating in that silent sea.
    That’s when he saw a most welcome sight — a light growing brighter by the minute. Yes, it was a rescue boat that had been sent out from his ship when the crew realized a man had fallen overboard.
    â€œHere!” Barney called out. “Over here!”
    Of course his rescuers were anxious to know all that had happened to him in the couple of hours he had been missing.
    â€œIf I told you,” Barney said, “you’d never believe it.”
    â€œAnd so he didn’t tell anyone until many years later, long after he’d quit sailing the seven seas. He told me when I was just about your age, Amanita.” Carolina Giddle brushed a lock of curly hair back from Angelo’s forehead as he leaned against her arm and nibbled a last little bit of granghoula bar.
    â€œBilge rat!” Angelo giggled.
    â€œYes.” Carolina Giddle gave him a little tickle. “And now it’s time for everyone to be off to bed.”
    â€œAagh.” Corrina clenched her teeth and gave a little moan.
    â€œYou said the b-word,” Amanita whispered. She put her hands over her ears.
    But Angelo just yawned, waved goodnight to Chiquita and said, “You gonna tuck me in, Carolina Giddle?”
    The apartment was as quiet as a tomb except for some contented little clinks from the radiator when the Bellinis returned.
    â€œI can’t believe it,” Papa Bellini said in a hushed voice.
    â€œYou’re a magician,” Mama Bellini added.
    â€œNo. Just a storyteller,” Carolina Giddle replied as Mr. Bellini pulled out his wallet to pay her.
    Carolina Giddle’s work for the evening