The Howler by R. L. Stine


  I set the little box down on my bed. Then I closed my bedroom door.

  I moved my CD player and all my CDs off the little table next to my closet. Then I carefully set the Howler down and plugged it in.

  Vanessa refused to come home with me to test it out. She kept warning me that this one wouldn’t work either. “You just threw away your last thirty dollars,” she said.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I sighed. “But I want to believe. I really want to believe.”

  “Scott is right to tease you,” she said.

  That hurt. Wow, that hurt!

  But here I was, up in my room, feeling really excited. Nervous. About to test my new purchase.

  I shut everything else out of my mind and pulled my desk chair in front of the table. Then I leaned over the Howler and gently wrapped my fingers around the power switch. I clicked it on.

  The dial lit up instantly. It gave off a dim yellow glow.

  I brought my face close to the speaker and listened.

  Nothing. Silence.

  I searched for a volume control, but I couldn’t find one.

  I stared at the dial. The yellow glow appeared to grow brighter.

  I heard a buzz. A crackling sound, like static on the radio.

  I pressed my ear to the speaker and listened for ghostly howls.

  Nothing.

  “Come on, ghosts,” I said out loud. “Where are you?”

  Give it a chance, I told myself.

  I heard another crackle of static. The yellow dial flickered. Then silence.

  How long did I sit there, staring at the yellow dial? Five minutes? Ten?

  After a while, I stood up. I paced around the room. Then I crossed to the window and gazed down toward Scott’s house.

  He was just getting home. I saw him pause at his back door and look up at my window.

  I ducked back so he wouldn’t see me. I didn’t want him barging in and giving me a hard time about the Howler. That’s the last thing I wanted!

  I turned back to the Howler, glowing and silent on my little table.

  I sat back down in front of it. Leaned my elbows on the table. And stared into the dial.

  Come on, I urged silently. Let me hear something. Just one tiny ghost sound.

  I nearly fell off the chair when I heard a ghostly whisper.

  “Spennnn-cerrrrr.”

  A spirit! A ghost! I could hear it! So close! It sounded so close!

  “Spennnn-cerrrrr.”

  And then it grabbed me from behind.

  And spun me around.

  14

  “Nick!” I cried. “You jerk! Let go of me!”

  He giggled and gave me a hard shove that sent me sprawling over the table. Then he tossed my backpack to the floor and took its place on my bed.

  “What’s up, wimpface?”

  “Nothing you’d be interested in,” I sneered. “Would you please get out of my room? I’m kind of busy.”

  He spit his bubble gum toward the wastebasket in the corner—and missed. The gum bounced off the wall, onto my carpet.

  “Hey, pick it up,” I said.

  He grinned at me. “Pick what up?” He jumped to his feet and came up behind me. “What’s that thing? Another stupid ghost toy?”

  “No, it’s not a toy,” I replied. But I was immediately sorry. I should have told Nick it was a toy, I thought. Then he’d go away and leave me alone.

  Now I was going to have to explain.

  He picked it up off the table. “Is it a radio?”

  “Kind of,” I said. “It’s called the Howler. It uses radio waves or something. It picks up the howls of ghosts.”

  He snickered. “Yeah, sure.” He raised the Howler to his ear.

  “Careful—you’ll unplug it,” I warned.

  Nick narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you becoming some kind of Star Trek freak? Is that what this is about?”

  “No way,” I said. “I just—”

  He pressed his mouth against the dial. “Beam me up, Scotty!” he shouted into it. “Beam me up. This is Spock!”

  He laughed really hard, as if he’d just made a really funny joke. Then he dropped the Howler to the table.

  “Careful!” I screamed. “You’ll break it.”

  He started to the door. “You’re pitiful,” he said. “It’s not even funny, you’re so totally pitiful. You really think you can buy some kind of stupid little radio and be able to hear ghosts howling.”

  “Just leave me alone!” I cried.

  “Pitiful,” he repeated. And he walked out of my room.

  Pitiful. The word repeated in my ear.

  Maybe he’s right, I thought, staring at the silent gray box. Maybe I am pitiful.

  Or maybe not.

  Late that night, I was awakened by a strange sound.

  I sat up in bed and listened.

  The room was hot. The furnace had been on full blast. I was sweating, and my pajamas clung to my skin.

  Pale, silvery moonlight poured into my room from the window. I blinked myself awake. Stretched my arms over my head. Turned toward the yellow glow of the Howler across my room.

  What was that sound? What had awakened me?

  Owooooooooooooo.

  A howl. So faint. So soft.

  And then another. Ooooooooowoooooo.

  Howls of pain. Ghostly howls…coming from the Howler.

  15

  I kicked the blankets off and struggled to my feet. My heart started to pound.

  I reached for the lamp on my bed table and nearly knocked it over. Finally, I clicked on the light.

  Oooooooooooowoo.

  The howl sounded fainter now. Distant.

  The yellow dial glowed.

  I straightened my pajama pants and dove to the little table. I dropped into the chair, trembling with excitement.

  And fear.

  I grabbed the sides of the little box and listened.

  Another howl, so sad, so far away.

  My hands were suddenly cold and wet. I pressed them tighter against the sides of the Howler.

  Was I really listening to a ghost? Was I really picking up sound from the spirit world?

  This is what I had wanted. This is what I had dreamed about.

  But now that it was actually happening, I was terrified.

  My teeth started to chatter. I couldn’t stop my body from shivering.

  Ghosts are dead people, I thought. Dead people.

  I heard another long, low howl pour out of the box.

  Was I really listening to the cry of a dead person?

  I stared at the box between my hands. At the yellow dial. At the red button beneath it. The red button…

  In my excitement, I had completely forgotten. If I pushed the red button, I could talk to the ghost. I could communicate with it.

  My hand trembled as I pressed the red button and held it down. I leaned closer to the box. “Hello,” I called. My voice came out in a choked whisper.

  “Hello?” I tried again.

  Silence now. I waited, my heart thudding.

  “Can anyone hear me?” I asked, holding the red button down.

  Silence. A long, empty silence.

  And then I heard a whispered voice. So soft, so far away, I could barely hear it. “Please…”

  I let out a startled cry.

  A voice from beyond!

  “It’s happening! It’s real!”

  I felt like leaping out of the chair and jumping up and down.

  But instead, I pressed the red button and leaned closer to the Howler. “I can hear you!” I cried. “It’s working. I can hear you!”

  I stared at the little round speaker and listened.

  Silence. Only for a few seconds, but it seemed endless.

  And then another whisper. “Please…help.”

  Help? How? Where was this ghost? Was he buried somewhere? Was he buried in a coffin deep in the ground?

  I wanted to ask a million questions. But I was gasping for breath now. My heart poun
ded so hard, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.

  “Please help me….” the voice whispered.

  “Where are you?” I finally managed to choke out. “Who are you? How can I help?”

  Silence.

  I stood up. Then I sat back down. I tried to force my legs to stop shaking.

  Behind me, the radiator rattled, sending more heat into the room. I knew my room was toasty warm. But I felt so cold. So cold down to my bones.

  “Can you hear me?” I said into the box. “Who are you? Please answer. Who are you?”

  Silence.

  And then the whisper came again. “Help me….”

  “Who are you?” I demanded. “Where are you?”

  “Buried…”

  The word made me gasp.

  Hugging myself to stop from shaking, I pressed my ear to the speaker. And listened for more.

  But once again the Howler was silent.

  I pressed the red button. “How can I help you?” I asked. “What can I do? Who are you? Please—tell me.”

  Silence.

  And then: “Find me. Please—find me….”

  16

  “But where are you?” I asked. “Who are you?” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Ian? Is it you? Ian?”

  I shut my eyes and crossed my fingers.

  Please—let it be him!

  “Ian? Answer me. Is that you?” I whispered.

  Silence now.

  I waited. And waited. But the box had gone silent. The contact was lost.

  Swallowing hard, I sat there, staring at the silent machine.

  “Ghosts do exist,” I murmured. “I heard one. I really heard one. Was it Ian? Does this mean I’ll be able to contact Ian?”

  I stood up. I stepped away from the chair and started to jump up and down. I couldn’t control myself. I had to jump—for excitement, for fear, for the total shock of it.

  I knew I’d never get back to sleep that night.

  I wasn’t going to tell Nick. But once we were sitting across from each other at the breakfast table in the kitchen, I couldn’t hold it in.

  “The Howler works,” I whispered. Mom was at the sink, washing out the egg pan. “I heard a ghost last night. For real.”

  Nick chewed his cornflakes noisily. “You mean you had a bad dream,” he said. He didn’t look up from his cereal bowl.

  “No. It wasn’t a dream,” I said. “A ghost was howling. It woke me up. And then he talked to me.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Nick muttered.

  “He sounded really far away, but I heard him so clearly,” I said. “He talked to me.”

  Nick finally looked up from his bowl. “Did he tell you to brush your teeth? Your breath stinks.”

  “Nick—” I started.

  Wiping her hands, Mom came over to the table. “What are you two talking about?” she asked.

  “Spencer had a bad dream,” Nick told her.

  “No, I didn’t!” I cried. “I—”

  “It was about a ghost,” Nick said. “It really got him scared.”

  “Mom, that’s not true!” I insisted.

  “Take it easy, Spencer,” Mom said, patting my head gently. “I thought you were over those nightmares. Has anything been upsetting you lately?”

  “Yeah. His face!” Nick cracked.

  “Nick, give him a break,” Mom said. “You can see he’s upset.”

  “I’m not upset!” I screamed.

  “Okay, okay,” Mom said, raising her hands and backing away as if surrendering. “Let’s talk about it later.”

  I choked down the rest of my scrambled eggs, glaring at Nick the whole time. Why did I waste my breath trying to tell Nick anything?

  He thinks life is just a big joke. And always a joke at my expense.

  Well, I didn’t care what he thought. I had a machine that actually contacted ghosts. And maybe…maybe my long wait would soon be over. Maybe I’d be talking with my cousin Ian really soon.

  At school, I told Vanessa all about it.

  She stared at me for a long time. “You’re serious? You didn’t dream it or something?”

  I groaned. “That’s the same thing Nick said. But it happened, Vanessa. It really happened. The Howler works.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Wow. Do you think I could hear a ghost too?”

  “Meet me after school,” I said. “We can go to my house and try it. It’s amazing!”

  I met Vanessa behind the middle school parking lot after school. Ed and Justin, two guys from our class, were waiting with her.

  Ed and Justin look as if they are brothers, but they’re not. They’re both tall and lanky. They both have straight brown hair cut pretty short, brown eyes, and long, serious faces.

  They both wear baggy cargo pants with millions of pockets and zippers. They’re both on the basketball team, and they both in-line skate to and from school every day. They even have the same laugh—a high-pitched horse whinny.

  Everyone calls them the Twins, even though they’re not related at all.

  “Vanessa told us about your radio thing,” Justin said. “Can we hear it too?”

  “We won’t make jokes or anything,” Ed added. “Vanessa said you’re really serious about this.”

  “Well…it’s kind of scary,” I replied. “You shouldn’t come over if you’re afraid of hearing dead people.”

  “They’re doing a science project about haunted houses,” Vanessa said. “They really want to hear a ghost.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Let’s give it a try.”

  A few minutes later, I led them upstairs to my room. Nick was home. I heard the TV on in his bedroom down the hall. But his door was closed.

  I ushered everyone inside and closed my door after them. They tossed their coats and backpacks on the bed. Then I sat down in front of the Howler, and they huddled around me.

  I turned the knob and clicked it on. The yellow dial lit up.

  “Cool,” Justin said. “Can you get the rap station on this? Q-102?”

  Ed gave him a shove. “Come on. We said no jokes.”

  “It’s not a radio,” I said. “It picks up sound waves. From the other side.”

  “The other side of what? The street?” Justin joked.

  Ed laughed. Vanessa glared at them. “Shape up, guys. You promised.”

  “It isn’t funny,” I murmured, turning to concentrate on the Howler. “The ghosts are in a lot of pain. That’s why they howl.”

  Ed tossed back his head and let out a long, loud howl. Justin joined in.

  “Shhhh. Give it a rest,” Vanessa said, leaning over my shoulder. “I think I just heard something.”

  Ed and Justin turned to the machine. All four of us stared at the glowing yellow dial and listened.

  Silence.

  From down the hall, I could hear Nick’s TV. I prayed for him to stay in his room. I knew he’d love to burst in here and ruin everything.

  “What’s taking the ghosts so long?” Ed asked, bouncing up and down impatiently. “I’ve got a piano lesson at four.”

  “Shhhh. Give it a chance,” I insisted.

  “But it isn’t making any noise at all,” Vanessa said.

  “I told you. Last night a ghost called to me. It was the scariest thing that ever happened to me,” I said.

  Ed let out a long sigh. He crossed to the window and sat down on the ledge. Justin backed away and dropped down on top of the coats on my bed.

  Vanessa and I stared at the Howler.

  Silence.

  Silence.

  And then…

  Oooooooooowoooo.

  An eerie howl. So soft. So faint.

  But a howl. A frightening, shrill howl.

  Ed and Justin were back on their feet.

  “Oh, wow,” Ed murmured, hurrying back to the table.

  “What was that?” Justin asked in a whisper. “Did you hear it too?”

  All four of us leaned close to the little gray box.

  We heard another long, sad howl.


  And then…then…

  A raspy croak.

  A ghostly voice, so frail, so chilling.

  And the words, the terrifying words…

  “I see you. I can see all four of you….”

  17

  “No!” Vanessa uttered a cry and grabbed the back of my chair.

  Ed and Justin huddled close, their mouths open, their eyes bulging.

  My chest ached. I realized I’d been holding my breath the whole time. I let out a long whoosh of air.

  “Is it a real ghost?” Justin asked in a whisper.

  “Is it in this room with us?”

  “I’ll try to ask it,” I said. I reached for the red button.

  But before I could push it, we heard the soft, croaking voice again: “I see you…You must help…Help me.”

  Justin squeezed my shoulder. “Spencer, this is too freaky,” he said. “I—I don’t even believe in ghosts.”

  “I think I believe now!” Vanessa whispered.

  “Owoooooooooooooo.” The howl sounded closer this time. Angrier.

  I felt a chill on the back of my neck, as if the ghost were breathing on me.

  I whipped around, expecting to see a ghostly figure. But no. Only my friends leaning over me, staring at the Howler.

  I took a deep breath. Then I reached out and pressed the red button. “We…we can hear you,” I stammered. “Are you here? Are you here in this room?”

  Silence.

  And then another low howl. “Help me…. Please help me….”

  “How?” I shouted into the speaker. “How can we help you? Where are you?”

  “I’ve been…buried…buried…so long.”

  I turned and saw Justin backing out of the room. “This is way creepy,” he said. “I—I think I have to go now.”

  “Shhh. Don’t go,” Vanessa whispered. “Let’s see what the ghost wants.”

  “Wh-what if he wants to make us ghosts too?” Justin cried. He had backed all the way to the door.

  “Is he here?” Ed asked breathlessly. “Is he really here?” He seemed to be in shock or something. His eyes kept darting back and forth. He had grown very pale.

  I turned back to the Howler and pressed the red button. “Where are you?” I demanded, speaking into the box.

 
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