A Midsummer Night's Scream by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

of them. I realized none of the jars or bottles had labels.
    “What is all this?” I asked. “Is this makeup? This is the makeup trailer, right?”
    He snickered. He scratched his beard. “No, I don’t have any makeup here.”
    “I-I’m in the wrong trailer?” I stammered. I wished he would stop staring. He didn’t blink. The hairy little guy was giving me the creeps. “Well, what is in all these bottles?”
    “It’s my potions,” he said. He stood up. He kept his eyes on mine. “Do you believe in potions, Claire?”
    “No. No way. I mean … well … I don’t know. I mean…” I tried to back up but there was no room. I bumped a shelf of bottles behind me.
    “Well, I do,” he said. “I believe in them because I know they work.” He snickered again. Not a pleasant sound. He picked up a small blue bottle and rolled it in his pudgy hand. “They work. They work.”
    I wanted to get out of there. He took another step toward me. I wondered if Delia was coming soon. “Wh-what kind of potions?” I stammered.
    A smile spread under his black beard. “All kinds.”
    He set down the blue bottle and picked up a tiny jar next to it. He raised it to my face. It had a glittery gray powder inside. He shook it in front of me.
    “It’s a love potion,” he said. “You interested? Maybe try it on someone?”
    I couldn’t hold back my laugh. This dude was insane. “A love potion? For real?”
    He nodded. The strange grin appeared frozen on his face. “It works. It really works.” He held it close and gazed at the gray powder.
    “You pour it on someone, see. It only takes a little bit. You spill a few flakes on them. Then they will fall in love— madly in love—with the first person they see.”
    I laughed again. Nervous laughter. Was he kidding me?
    “That’s Shakespeare,” I said. “Nice try, Mr. Puckerman. But we read that play in tenth grade. The fairy puts the love potion on the girl’s eyes so she’ll fall in love with the guy who’s crazy about her. But when she wakes up, the first thing she sees is a guy who’s been turned into a donkey. And she falls madly in love with the donkey. We read it last year.”
    Puckerman shook his head. “That’s just a play. This is real.”
    I gazed at the jar in his hand. “What is it really ?”
    He frowned. “I don’t make up stories. And I don’t lie.” He waved a hand, motioning to the shelves. “These potions are the real thing. Let me demonstrate.”
    He moved quickly. Before I could duck out of the way, he dove toward me, raised a furry paw above my head, tilted a small bottle, and shook powdery silver flakes onto my shoulders.
    “N-nooo,” I stammered in total panic. “What did you do ? What is that?”
    “It’s the love potion,” he answered.
    I felt a tingling in my shoulders, like a mild electrical shock. My skin prickled as the feeling ran down my whole body. The bottles and jars became a blur of color all around me.
    “What did you do to me?” I cried, my voice muffled, distant. “What did you do to me?”

 
    11
    HOUSE OF DEATH
    I GAZED DOWN AT THE LITTLE MAN, at his adorable black beard, at the awesome wild tuft of hair on his head, at his beautiful face with its softly glowing dark eyes and gleaming smile.
    A strong emotion swept over me. I wanted to grab him in my arms and pull him close, wrap him in a tight hug and tell him how wonderful he was.
    “Claire, you and I have things to do later,” he said in that sweet, sweet voice. “Not yet. Not yet. But soon.”
    I’d never felt this way about anyone. My heart was pounding. My hands were clammy. I couldn’t resist him.
    I squeezed my hands over his thick shoulders. He had beautiful spiky back hair poking out from his t-shirt. “Can I … Can I…” I worked up my courage. “Can I kiss you? Can I hold you?”
    He slid out of my grasp. “I’m just demonstrating the potion to you. Next time, you won’t question my power.”
    “Please—” I begged, my voice trembling