Джеймс Хоу - Bunnicula Meets Edgar Allan Crow

“Ms. Pickles,” Kyle put in. “That’s her name. She has to spend the first two weeks of school every year getting the new kids not to laugh when they say it. It’s pretty funny, though, right? I mean, not that it’s right to laugh at somebody’s name, but you kind of can’t help laughing when you say ‘pickles,’ especially when it’s a person’s name. Try it. You’ll see what I’m talking about. Anyway, she’s really nice. You’ll like her. Not that I know who you’ll like or anything, but . . . oh, and just wait until you see how many of your books are in the library. Hey, what are you going to talk about when you come to our school? Did you bring pictures of your wolves and bats and—”

Mrs. Monroe cleared her throat. “Thank you, Kyle. Now, let’s see, did I leave anyone out?”

“I’m not doing anything tomorrow,” Kyle said.

“Well, Kyle, would you like to join us?” Mrs. Monroe asked politely. “We’ll be eating at twelve thirty.”

“Wow, could I, Mrs. Monroe? That would be awesome. You don’t really drink blood, do you, Mr. Graves ... I mean, Mr. Tanner? Because I read somewhere that you do, and I gotta tell you, the sight of blood kind of grosses me out. Nothing personal.”

Mrs. Monroe laughed nervously. This was something else I’d never heard her do before. “I’m sure Mr. Tanner doesn’t drink blood, Kyle,” she said.

“Good,” said Kyle. “I mean, it’s a free country and all, but—”

“Oh, could Amber come, too?” Pete asked.

“Ooh, Amber, your girlfriend,” Toby said.

“She is not”

“She is so. Everybody says.”

“Boys! Mr. Tanner, I’m sorry, I can see this is getting to be too much. Kyle is welcome to join us, Pete, but no more guests, okay? Mr. Tanner, are you all right? You look a little ...”

“Tired,” the low voice rumbled. “May I ... lie down?”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Monroe. “We’ll show you to your room. Dinner will be in an hour. And it will just be the family tonight, no guests. We’ll be having my husband’s vegetarian lasagna and salad with no dressing, just the way you asked.”

“But—” Tanner began.

“Oh, and Bunnicula is up in your room,” said Mr. Monroe.

“Just the way you asked,” Pete said.

“In my room? But won’t he be—”

Tanner’s words were cut off by the sound of wings flapping as Edgar suddenly flew from his shoulders and began circling the room.

“Edgar!” Tanner cried out. “Come back here!”

Edgar continued to fly about the room. His beak opened and closed, but no sound came out. His eerie silence was offset by the loud and somehow threatening caws of the crows outside.

“What on earth is going on?” Mr. Monroe asked.

“Hey, Dad,” said Pete, “this is like that movie, The Birds. Remember?”

“I saw that movie,” Kyle chimed in. “We’d better board up the windows before the crows get inside and peck out our eyes. Maybe we should wear goggles. Or helmets. Mr. Monroe, do you have any plywood?”

Strangely, Chester wasn’t paying any attention to the commotion. “Howie,” he said, “you’ve got to run up to the guest room and hide under the bed.”

“Say what?”

“You heard me. You’ve got to hide under the bed. You’re the only one who will fit.”

“You’ll fit, Pop.”

“Yes, but I’m needed at Command Central.”

“Ah,” said Howie. “In that case, okay.”

Chester often says things like “I’m needed at Command Central” to get Howie to do what he wants.

“We’ve got to spy on those two,” Chester went on. “We can’t let them out of our sight. I don’t know what they’re up to, but I’m going to find out. And you’re the one who’s going to do the finding out for me!”

“Awesome!” said Howie, as if Chester had just pinned a junior detective badge on him.

“Hurry, while everyone is distracted!”

“Okay, Pop, I’m going. Gee, maybe I’ll overhear some writing tips. Would that be okay?”

“Fine, fine. Whatever. But don’t get so hung up on adjectives that you miss the important stuff.”

“What’s an adjective?” Howie asked.

“A describing word,” Chester explained. “Now get moving.”

Howie pondered this. “Oh, like in the sentence, ‘Howie is a funny, smart, and cute-as-a-button puppy,’ the words ‘funny’, ‘smart’, and ‘cute-as-a-button’ are adjectives?”

Chester rolled his eyes. “Something like that,” he said. “Now would you please—”

“I’ve never understood what’s so cute about buttons,” I interjected.

“Would you please get going?” Chester implored Howie as he glowered at me.

“I’m gone,” Howie said. And he scampered up the stairs and out of sight.

“Once again, Chester,” I said, “you are making a case out of nothing. Other than Miles Tanner being a little peculiar...”

“Not just him. What about the bird? What’s up with the silent treatment?”

“Maybe he has laryngitis,” I suggested, thinking how nice it would be if Chester had laryngitis on occasion.

“Maybe he does,” Chester replied. “And maybe when he gets his voice back, the first thing he will say is—”

“‘Nevermore.’ I know. But a bunch of maybes is all you’ve got, Chester. What evidence do you have that Tanner is up to anything?”

Chester began to bathe his tail.

“Aha!” I said. “You don’t have any evidence, do you?”

“May we help you get your bags from the car?” I heard Mr. Monroe ask as everyone entered the hallway where Chester and I were lurking about. Edgar had returned to his master’s shoulder, and the crows outside had quieted down.

“Thank you,” the author replied. “But leave the black bag with the silver clasp. I’ll . . . bring that one . . . in.”

“It’s okay, we can get everything, Mr. Tanner,” said Kyle. “I’m strong. I’ve been working out. Between Pete and me, we can—”

“NO!” Miles Tanner boomed. Immediately dropping his voice, he said, “I’m sorry, but... I’ll fetch ... the black bag ... myself.”

So shocked that he forgot to take his tail out of his mouth, Chester turned to me and asked, “Wath it evidenth you were after, Harold?”

Five

The Odd Guest

No one said another word as Mr. Monroe opened the door and led the way to the car. Mr. Tanner’s cape flapped noisily in the wind before us. I didn’t want to tell Chester, but I have to confess that in that moment I began to find something a little scary about this tall, stooped-shouldered figure with his dark eyes and pale skin. Based on his appearance alone, it was easy to think him guilty until proven innocent. Guilty of what seemed almost beside the point.

When we reached the car (a surprisingly modest, nondescript box on wheels parked haphazardly at the curb), Mr. Tanner immediately grabbed the black bag in the backseat and clutched it to him. Kyle, Pete, and Toby fought over the two suitcases in the trunk and somehow managed to get them out without destroying them.

Tanner’s attachment to his black bag was strange enough, but then something even stranger occurred. It was as we turned to go back inside that a single crow appeared over the roof of the house and came to rest on a tree branch above the living room window. It opened its beak and let out a cry that was at once plaintive and rallying. Edgar took off immediately, even as Tanner dropped the black bag and grabbed for him.

We all watched as Edgar flew up to land next to the bird on the branch. He appeared to bow before the other crow, and this gesture was repeated several times. Then the sky above the house grew dark with black wings as what looked like hundreds of crows flew up from behind the house and landed on the roof.