Spell of the Screaming Jokers Read Free

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    I clapped my hands to my ears. “Frankie!” I cried again. “What’s wrong! Tell us—what’s wrong!”
    Frankie turned to me—and the screaming stopped. Stopped suddenly, as if a knife sliced it off mid-scream. But his mouth still hung open.
    Mrs. Davidson ran into Max’s room. “What happened?” she cried. “Is someone hurt? Who screamed?”
    â€œFrankie did,” Louisa told her.
    â€œI did not!” Frankie protested.
    We all stared at him. “Yes, you did!” Louisa exclaimed. “Your mouth was wide open. We all heard you. Screaming like a maniac.”
    â€œI wasn’t screaming,” Frankie said flatly.
    â€œYeah, right,” I said. “You nearly burst my eardrums. You dropped all your cards—then you started screaming.”
    â€œI don’t know what you mean about screaming.” Frankie spoke slowly. “I know I dropped my cards. It was because of—because of the joker.”
    Frankie glanced under the table. We all followed his gaze.
    There his cards lay—all facedown. All but one. All but the joker.
    The joker—it was like no joker I had ever seen.
    It had huge round eyes that bulged right out of their sockets. Hideous eyes! I felt as if they could see me!
    Its bright red lips curved up in a crooked, evil smile.
    The joker wore a floppy green cap with bells. In its hand it held a stick. On the top of the stick sat a skull. A skull with eyes that glowed like hot coals!
    â€œYuck!” Louisa squealed, turning her face away. “It’s so ugly!”
    I started to turn away too—when the joker’s face began to move!
    Its eyeballs darted left and right! First it peered at me. Then it glared at Louisa. Then Jeff.
    The joker’s eyeballs came to rest on Frankie. Its mouth twisted open—in a grin full of yellow, jagged teeth.
    I stared in horror. I couldn’t speak.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Max’s mom asked. “What are you looking at?”
    At the sound of her voice, the joker’s ugly face froze.
    Had it really moved?
    Or had I imagined it?
    I glanced at my friends. Had they seen it?
    But they were all staring at me. “Brit, what’s the matter?” Louisa asked. “You’re so pale!”
    â€œThe joker . . . ” I began. But then I trailed off. No way. It wasn’t possible. I couldn’t have seen it move!
    Could I?
    Mrs. Davidson bent and picked up the card. “What a horrible card!” she cried. She gathered up the other cards from the floor.
    â€œLet me have all the cards, kids,” she said. “I’ll check to make sure there aren’t any more jokers. How in the world did this terrible-looking thing get into the deck in the first place?”
    Max only shrugged as he handed his mom his cards. He didn’t seem very upset about the joker. Maybe his doctor told him not to get excited—about anything.
    But I was plenty excited. My heart was racing!
    â€œThat was horrible,” I told Frankie. “That wasn’t a regular joker. No wonder you screamed.”
    â€œI told you—I didn’t scream,” Frankie said.
    â€œCome on, Frankie,” Jeff said. “Just admit it. We all heard you. I bet the whole neighborhood heard you.”
    Frankie glared. “Would you all just—”
    â€œThere. I’ve checked the deck. There aren’t any more ugly jokers,” Mrs. Davidson interrupted. She handed the deck of cards to Max. “Remember, it’s good card manners to let someone cut the cards, Max.”
    Max began shuffling.
    â€œUm . . . you really want to play?” I asked.
    Max shrugged. “Why not?”
    â€œYes, but . . . ” I began. I stopped. With the jokers out of the deck, I guess it was okay to play.
    We played hand after hand of hearts. By the time the four of us left Max’s house, I saw clubs and diamonds, hearts and spades