“Coming!” I heard myself holler.

Oh no. That voice wouldn’t do. It sounded exactly like me.

“Coming!” I repeated in my deepest, creepiest voice. “The spirits are preparing to let you in!”

Oh yes. That was much better.

Ashley dashed back into the haunted house and stuck her head through the hole in the cardboard. I was on my way to the front door but stopped halfway. I turned, ran back to Ashley and blasted a few last-minute squirts of ketchup on her cheeks. If I didn’t know better myself, I would’ve thought she was nothing more than a bloody head on a plate. I threw the napkin over her head.

“Hank, the torch!” she whispered.

I handed it to her. Frankie took his position at the spider fishing rod and flashed me the OK sign. I went to the front door, turning on the tape recorder just before I got there. The flat echoed with the sounds of Frankie’s moans and groans.

I opened the door just a crack.

“Do you dare enter the chamber of fear?” I growled.

There was silence on the other side of the door, so I went for it some more.

“Come in at your own risk. Ghosts and goblins await you.” Then I let out a really crazed laugh.

“Mummy!” a little voice cried. “I want to go home!”

That didn’t sound like Heather Payne. And it sure didn’t sound like Luke Whitman. Besides, there was no bad smell coming through the crack in the door. Luke doesn’t like to take baths very often.

“Tyler,” a woman’s voice said. “It’s your friend Hank. He’s just pretending to be scary.”

“No, he isn’t,” said the little voice. “He’s really scary, and I’m scared of all scary things!”

Oh no. It was Tyler King, the five year old who lives on our floor. He’s the last person on earth I’d want to scare. I flicked on the lights and opened the door all the way.

“See, Tyler, it’s just me, Hank!” I said.

“I’m not Tyler,” he whimpered, still clinging on to his mum’s skirt. “I’m Spider-Man.”

Of course he was. He wears his Spider-Man Halloween costume three hundred and sixty-five days a year. I understand that because when I was five, I wore my Aquaman costume all the time. Aquaman could swim through water faster than a submarine. I’d splash water all over myself so I’d look like I just swam out of the ocean too. My mum spent a year with a towel hooked to her belt because every time she turned her back, I had soaked myself. When he was little, Frankie was obsessed with Luke Skywalker. You had to be very careful around him because he would constantly poke you in the butt with his lightsaber. It was a great day for my rear end when he finally outgrew that.

“Listen, Spider-Man,” I said to Tyler. “How would you like a piece of prune taffy?”

“Ick,” he said. “I want M&M’s. With peanuts.”

“You’re out of luck, buddy,” I said. “This isn’t exactly the best trick-or-treat stop in the building.”

“Try my house,” Frankie called out. “Flat 4B. My mum’s got lots of those little bags of M&M’s.”

“Are there ghosts there too?” Tyler asked.

“No, man. Just my brother Otis. The only thing scary about him is his breath.”

Tyler turned and ran towards the lift. As he and his mum got in, I heard footsteps coming out. I slammed the door fast, turned off the lights and got back to my position just in time.

Ding-dong.

“Do you dare enter the chamber of fear?” I growled, opening the door a crack.

“Of course I do. Why do you think I came over on a homework night?”

Oh yes, that could only be the voice of Heather Payne. Leave it to her to bring up homework on the most fun night of the year.

I opened the door and Heather came in. She was dressed as an old woman in a grey skirt with grey shoes and grey glasses and grey hair.

Don’t tell me! Was Heather Payne trick-or-treating as Ms Adolf?

That might have been one of the scariest things I’d ever seen in my life. Who goes dressed up as their teacher, especially if their teacher is Ms Adolf? It’s just not normal, I tell you.

“So where is this haunted house?” Heather said, tapping her grey shoe impatiently. “I don’t have all night, you know. We have a social studies report due next week, and I want to get an early start on it.”

“Follow me … if your nerves can handle it,” I said.

You have to give me credit for continuing to be scary. It wasn’t easy with a fun-pooper like Heather Payne on my hands.

I led Heather down the hall and into the living room. If it had been anyone else, I probably would have taken her hand, but the thought of holding hands with Heather Payne … was … well, let’s not even go there.

When we reached the haunted house, I held up the door flap. “You may enter,” I said. “I hope you come out alive.”

Heather went in. I followed her. Frankie was at the spider fishing rod. I could barely see him because he was dressed all in black so his clothes would blend into the darkness. I took my place behind the table with all the gooey things.

“Wander as you wish,” I whispered to her. “But beware of ghosts. The spirits are restless tonight.”

First, Heather went to the skeleton with the black light inside his chest. She reached out to touch him. Plop! His arm fell off. We hadn’t planned that, but I thought it was a nice touch. Heather didn’t flinch, though. She just reached down and picked up the arm.

“Your skeleton’s broken,” she said. “Try super glue. It’s very adhesive.”

Mental note to self: glue on skeleton arms BEFORE McKelty arrives.

Next, Heather went to where Ashley’s head was sticking through the table.

“Pull the napkin off,” I whispered. “And be afraid. Very afraid.”

Heather pulled the napkin off, and Ashley let out a high-pitched scream as she switched on the torch under her chin.

“Hi, Ashley,” Heather said. “You’ve got some ketchup on your face. You smell like a hamburger.”

Mental note to self: add more ketchup. Work on Ashley’s screaming technique.

Then Heather went to the table with the icky gooey stuff. She stuck her hand into the bowl with the peeled grapes floating in egg whites.

“These are the eyeballs of Frankenstein,” I whispered.

Heather swished the grapes around with her fingers. I was hoping she would vomit or at least spit up a little. Instead, all she did was wipe her hand on her Ms Adolf-y skirt.

“Egg whites,” she said. “My mother says we shouldn’t waste food. If I hadn’t already touched them, you could use them in a nice nutritious omelette.”

This girl sure knew how to have fun. I picked up my Mets cap that held the spaghetti and Marshmallow Fluff brain mixture.

“These are Dracula’s brains,” I whispered. “They have been preserved for two hundred years. He asks that you touch them.”

Heather stuck her hand in my baseball cap.

“You should really have some moist towels for people to wipe their hands on,” she commented. “I’m sure this concoction will stain the furniture.”

Moist towels? Give me a break!

Mental note to self: Heather Payne has the perfect name because she IS a pain with zero sense of fun. Correction. Make that minus zero.

For what I was hoping would be the big finish, I guided Heather over to the dangling spiders. As she stood there, Frankie lowered the spiders down on to her head. Well, he was aiming for her head, that is. He missed, and the spiders shot right past her and dropped all the way to the ground until they just sat there on her grey Ms Adolf-y shoe.

“I saw those spiders in the supermarket,” Heather said. “They were three for eighty-nine cents, which would be twenty-nine point six cents each. Twenty-seven if you round up.”

She was doing maths problems in our haunted house! I couldn’t believe it!

Mental note to self: never invite Heather Payne again. To anything. Anywhere. Any time.

Ever again.