There's a Spaceship in My Tree! by Robert West Read Free Book Online Page A

immediately snapped shut.
    Haunted doesn’t begin to describe this place , thought Ghoulie as he pulled up his pants and tightened his belt.
    â€œCan’t you keep that thing locked up?” a man asked in frustration.
    â€œI’m trying,” the woman answered, “but it automatically leaps to life and starts vacuuming away whenever it detects a higher-than-normal particle content in the carpet. And with all the scientists and tech crews tramping through this house, the particle content is way up there.”
    â€œWe’d lived here a week before Mom found that manual,” Beamer said as he suddenly appeared next to Ghoulie. “Everything works by voice command around here.”
    â€œEmily, you make me tired.” It was the squeaky voice again, now in a slightly lower-pitch.
    Ghoulie stared at the man who was reading aloud in that weird voice and pacing mechanically across the floor. How could Beamer seem so normal with a father like that?
    â€œThat’s just Dad getting ready for tonight’s play rehearsal at the university,” Beamer said. “He’s a Professor who directs plays. Right now he’s trying to figure out how all the characters will move around on stage, so he’s reading everybody’s lines. The phone’s over here,” he added in a whisper. “Dad just goes a little nuts when he gets to play all the parts himself.”
    It sounded more like a bad case of multiple personality disorder to Ghoulie. Keeping a wary eye on Beamer’s dad, he stood back up and turned to see Michael already at the phone.
    â€œNo, Georgie, you can’t come over now,” Michael said into the receiver. “My mom says there are too many people here already. Besides, it’s not our Xbox day, so — ”
    Ghoulie jumped when Beamer grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the door at the end of the hallway.
    â€œAre you gonna hafta go back to the park for those papers you lost?” Beamer asked.
    â€œNo way,” Ghoulie replied. “My neck’s worth more than a report on Moby Dick . Besides, it’s on my hard drive — words, pictures, even the sound effects I had attached to it on a CD. I’ll just make another copy.”
    â€œSound effects? That must be some report! What kind of computer have you got?” Beamer asked.
    â€œThe works,” Ghoulie said with a shrug. “You know, the usual absentee-parent guilt package.” The truth was, Ghoulie rarely saw his parents, except at breakfast and right before bedtime. But when it came to games and toys and high-tech wizardry, he had it all.
    â€œRight,” Beamer murmured as he pushed through the kitchen door.
    Beamer’s mother was now leaning over the stove saying, “Stove, plate fo’ah, ahwn, mae-di-uh’m.” One of the sections on the seamless stove top began to glow.
    â€œIt took Mom half a day to figure that one out,” said Beamer. “The hard part’s not the commands but how to say them. A couple days ago Dad found a website on American dialects, so Mom’s gettin’ the hang of it. The phone’s over there . . . uh . . . Ghoulie. Is it really Ghoulie ?”
    â€œNo,” he said shrugging, “but Ghoulie’s what everyone calls me.” He threw down his leather-tooled backpack and picked up the receiver. He couldn’t remember when somebody had first called him that, but it had stuck.
    â€œDo you want me to call you something else?”
    â€œNo, that’s okay. I don’t particularly like my real name either. It’s Garfunkel — Garfunkel Ives to be more exact.” The name had come from some musician back in the sixties and seventies, so his parents had told him. But what kind of nickname could you make out of Garfunkel? Garf? Funkel?
    The microwave oven beeped. As Beamer started toward it, Michael burst through the door and crowded in front of him to pull out a steaming bag of