Frightfully Friendly Ghosties Read Online Free PDF Page A

still-alive,” said Charlie, taking off his hat. “Let’s float away.”
    â€œBut I’m about to read the still-alive a poem,” said Wither.
    â€œAll the more reason to float away,” Charlie said, which was not terribly kind, you have to admit.

12
    Striped Pajamas
    â€œI was the first ghosty here,” said Wither, when we gathered on the landing late that night. “I was already in my pajamas, you see. The rest of you had to wisp away and change.”
    â€œYes,” said Charlie, who was still wearing his trilby, “and you have looked ridiculous all day as a result.”
    Then we heard Pamela’s shaky voice call out through the study door. “I hope you’re working on a rescue plan.”
    â€œPamela,” I called back, “whenever we get you out, you get shut in again.”
    â€œSo you’re leaving me in here forever? With the leggy spider? It’s scampering about, and I’m a nervous wreck as it is.”
    â€œWe have to go to bed now, Pamela,” Charlie said. “Goodnight.”
    â€œBut what about the rescue plan?”
    â€œThis is part of the rescue plan,” Charlie explained, doffing his trilby. “If we make friends with the still-alives, they’ll let you out as a gesture of goodwill. We’ll retire to the bed in this room here, and we’ll let the still-alives get a good night’s sleep. Humphrey, bump the door.”
    The back bedroom was far grander than those at the front. When the door creaked open, we all gasped. The bedroom had an ornate four-poster bed and plush velvet curtains.
    â€œI hope there’s enough room for us all,” said Agatha Draft. “Who will lift the sheets? Tabitha, you’re a poltergeist. Would you mind awfully?”

    â€œI don’t have the skills, Agatha. Billow it with a force ten gale.”
    â€œTabitha dear, I’ll be lucky if I can rustle up a gentle breeze.”
    â€œLadies,” said Charlie, taking off his hat, “why not both try together?”
    We both tried together.
    The sheets lifted up, and they bulged like the sail on a pirate ship.
    â€œWell done, Tabitha,” said Agatha Draft, clutching her pearls joyfully.
    â€œAgatha, I barely touched it.”
    â€œPut your modesty aside,” Charlie said, adjusting his trilby, “and come to bed.”
    â€œI’ve not had a good night’s sleep since I was still alive,” said Gertrude. She crawled into bed, leaving a trail of glowing blue goo.
    Charlie floated into bed beside her, and Wither wisped in on Charlie’s left and Humphrey to his right, and I floated into the space between Humphrey and Charlie, and then Humphrey bumped us all along to make space for dear Aggie. The blanket came to rest, covering our toes and knees.
    â€œIt’s drafty here at the edge,” said Gertrude.
    â€œYou think it’s drafty there?” I complained. “You try lying beside Agatha.”
    â€œDon’t be mean to Agatha,” said Wither.
    â€œWhat about me?” protested Humphrey. “I’m at the edge,
and
I’m beside Agatha.”
    â€œWither has cold feet,” said Charlie Vapor.
    â€œDon’t be mean,” said Wither. “At least I’m not wearing an outdoor hat.”
    â€œShh!” said Agatha. “I can hear someone coming.”
    Twelve eerie eyeballs turned to the door.
    The door creaked open, and there, in striped pajamas not unlike Wither’s, stood the bearded still-alive.
    â€œPerhaps he wants to sleep in this bed,” blubbed Wither.
    â€œI should have thought of that,” whispered Charlie.
    The still-alive didn’t see us at first. He took a key from his pajama pocket, closed and locked the door, and returned the key to his pocket. It was only as he crept across the rug that he noticed we were here, six grinning ghosties all in a row. He screamed a mean-spirited scream and ran back to the