The Haunted Mask II by R. L. Stine Page B

really
cool.
    Then, later, I’ll go to the spooky old Carpenter mansion to meet the kids.
And I’ll scare the first graders out of their masks!
    And then what?
    Then I’ll find Carly Beth. It won’t be hard to find her. She’s having a
Halloween party at her house after trick-or-treating.
    I’ll find Carly Beth and get her to tell me the secret. I’ll get her to show
me how to remove this horrible mask.
    Then I will be a very happy guy.
    Sitting there alone in the kitchen, struggling to choke down my cornflakes,
it seemed like a really good plan.
    Too bad it didn’t work out the way I hoped.

 
 
20
     
     
    When Mom and Dad returned home that evening, I hobbled downstairs to greet
them. They both gasped when they saw my ugly, scabby face.
    Mom dropped the bag she was carrying. Her mouth fell open to her knees.
    Dad’s eyes bulged. He stared at me for a long time. Then he burst out
laughing. “Steve—that is the best costume!” he exclaimed. “Where did
you get that?”
    “It’s disgusting,” Mom said. “Ohh. I can’t stand that open patch on top of
the head. And that horrible hole in your tooth.”
    Dad walked in a circle around me, admiring my new look.
    I had put on the patched, black suit that I wore as my hobo costume. And I
had found one of my grandpa’s old canes in the closet, which I leaned on now.
    “It’s great!” Dad declared, squeezing my shoulder.
    “I bought the mask at a party store,” I croaked. It was almost the
truth.
    Mom and Dad exchanged glances. “The old man’s voice is very good,” Mom said.
“Have you been practicing?”
    “Yes. All day,” I replied.
    “Do you feel better?” Dad asked. “We didn’t want to disturb you this morning
since you weren’t feeling good. Your mom and I had to leave so early…”
    “I’m feeling much better,” I lied. Actually, my legs were trembling and my
whole body was drenched in a cold sweat.
    Feeling weak, I leaned harder on the cane.
    “Yuck! What’s that in your hair?” Mom cried.
    “Spiders,” I told her. I shuddered. I could feel them crawling over my head
and in my ears.
    “They’re so real-looking,” Mom declared, raising a hand to her cheek. She
shook her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a hobo? That mask must be so
hot and uncomfortable.”
    If she only knew how uncomfortable it was!
    “Leave him be,” Dad scolded her. “He looks great. He’s going to terrify
everyone on the street tonight.”
    I hope so, I thought. I glanced at my watch. Time to get going.
    “Well, he’s terrifying me!” Mom exclaimed. She shut her eyes. “I can’t stand
to look at you, Steve. Why did you buy something so… so ugly?”
    “I think it’s funny,” Dad told her. He poked a finger at my long tooth.
“Great mask. Is it rubber?”
    “Yeah. I guess,” I muttered in my quivering, old voice.
    Mom made a disgusted face. “Are you trick-or-treating with Chuck?”
    I yawned. I suddenly felt sleepy. “I promised my soccer players I’d meet
them,” I croaked. “Then I’m going over to Carly Beth’s house.”
    “Well, don’t stay out too late,” Mom said. “And if that heavy mask gets too
hot, take it off for a while—okay?”
    I wish! I thought bitterly.
    “See you later,” I said. Leaning on the cane, I began dragging myself to the
front door.
    Mom and Dad laughed at my funny walk.
    I wasn’t laughing. I wanted to cry.
    Only one thing kept me from breaking down and telling them the truth. Only
one thing kept me from telling Mom and Dad that I was trapped inside this
horrible mask, that it had turned me into a weak, ancient creature.
    Revenge.
    I could see the terrified expressions on the faces of my soccer team. And I
could hear their howls of horror as they went running for their lives.
    That cheered me up and kept me going.
    I grabbed the doorknob and struggled to pull open the front door.
    “Steve—wait!” Dad cried. “My camera. Wait. I want to take a picture.” He
disappeared in search