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John Paulits

John Paulits, Author of Philip and the Superstition Kid

    John Paulits is a former teacher in New York City. He has published five other children’s novels, four about Philip and Emery, as well as two adult science fiction novels, HOBSON’S PLANET and BECKONING ETERNITY. His previous Gyspy Shadow book, PHILIP AND THE SUPERSTITION KID, was voted best children’s novel of 2010 in the Preditors and Editors readers poll.



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Congratulations, John, for Winning first place in the 2010 Preditors and Editors Readers Poll for Children's Novel with Philip and the Superstition Kid!

New Title(s) from

Philip and the Superstition Kid by John Paulits  Philip and the Angel by John Paulits  Philip and the Haunted House by John Paulits  Philip and the Monsters by John Paulits  Philip and the Deadly Curse by John Paulits

 

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Philip and the Superstition Kid by John Paulits   

    Emery’s clumsy and monumentally unlucky cousin Leon is coming to visit for a whole week!  Philip and Emery, best friends, are desperate to find ways to keep Leon out of their way, but Leon’s bad luck―and disaster―follows them everywhere.  Rabbits’ feet don’t work.  Homemade remedies don’t work.  And when Emery and Philip have an extraordinary spell of bad luck themselves, they’re certain that Leon’s bad luck is contagious.  They plot and plan to convince Leon that the safest place for him is in his own home.  In a panic, Leon gets his mother to end his visit early but promises to return for a night a week from Friday, when he hopes he’ll be over his bad luck.
     Triumphant, Philip and Emery laughingly decide to circle that unlucky date on Emery’s calendar, but when they do they get a shock.  The thirteenth of the month.  Friday the thirteenth!  And they have to spend it with Leon!

                                                                    Excerpt
Word Count:
20,000
Pages to Print:
85
File Format: PDF                  Price:
$3.99

    

 
   
Philip and the Angel byJohn Paulits How is Philip ever going to get a pet, the one thing he wants most in the world, when his parents say no to his every request? Angel, a very smart neighborhood girl, gives Philip a plan to change his parents’ mind, but the plan ends in disaster, and Philip’s parents say no louder than ever. With Angel’s help Philip tries again. Philip knows it’s his last chance. How will this plan turn out? Will Philip’s wish come true, or will he meet with disappointment again?






                                                                  Excerpt
Word Count:
12,250
Pages to Print:
53
File Format: PDF                  Price:
$3.99

    


   
Philip and the Haunted House by John Paulits Philip and Emery are scared out of their wits when they learn their community service assignment involves dealing with a haunted house, but it gets worse! Circumstances force the boys to sneak inside the haunted house, and when they do, they receive the shock of their lives!

                                                                                   Excerpt

Word Count: 13650
Pages to Print: 62
File Format: PDF
Price: $3.99
 
     

   
Philip and the Monsters by John Paulits Could the Frankenstein monster, Dracula and the Wolfman actually move into someone’s respectable neighborhood? Philip and his best friend Emery are convinced it has happened when a suspicious new family moves in down the block. The boys have seen the vampire bat; they’ve heard the werewolf’s growl; they’ve witnessed the coffin delivery to the house. When Emery’s mother invites the new family to dinner, Philip and Emery have no choice but to prepare for the worst.


                                                                                    Excerpt
Word Count: 16100
Pages to Print: 67
File Format: PDF
Price: $3.99
 
      

   
Philip and the Deadly Curse by John Paulits Philip runs into an awful streak of bad luck at the same time as his best buddy Emery runs into a streak of good luck. When Emery reveals that he's been using a newly acquired luck charm, Philip sets out to find one of his own, but what he finds turns out to be more deadly curse than good luck charm.


                                                                                         Excerpt
Word Count: 12,500
Pages to Print: 54
File Format: PDF
Price: $3.99
 
     
   


EXCERPTS



Philip and the Superstition Kid

     Philip looked out his bedroom window and smiled. Splashes of sunshine glinted off the windows of the houses across the street. The summer breeze blew gently through the window screen, just strong enough that his hair tickled his neck a little as the breeze ruffled it. Philip usually associated good smells with chocolate and bakeries, but right now the sweet aroma of somebody’s newly mown lawn made Philip inhale deeply. Today was the first official day of summer vacation; fourth grade was a thing of the past; and the long, beautiful, wonderful-smelling summer lay ahead, day after endless joyful day.
     Below and to his right Philip saw his best friend Emery step out of his front door. Philip hurried from his room, dashed down the stairs, and bolted outside. He waved to Emery and crossed the street. Emery walked toward him.
     “Emery.” Philip smiled and opened his arms wide. “Welcome to summer vacation.”
Emery glared at him unresponsively.
Philip lowered his arms. Now what? he wondered. “Summer vacation, Emery,” he reminded his friend.
     “I dreamed a dream last night,” Emery said gloomily.
     “So what? Everybody does that.”
     “Not like this they don’t. There goes the summer.” Emery moved his hand like he was shooing away a fly.
     Mrs. Logan lived at the corner, and there was an empty space inside the thick bushes near the back of her house Philip and Emery used as a hidden clubhouse. Mrs. Logan rarely left her house—Emery insisted she was a hundred and four years old, but Philip said that was impossible—so no one bothered them when they sat in the shady coolness, unknown to the world. They were on their way there now out of habit.
     “Emery, vacation just started,” Philip said impatiently. “How could a dream spoil the summer? It’s only the first day for Pete’s sake.”
     “You know those stupid rabbits’ feet we all got at Kevin’s party last week?”
     “Yeah.”
     “They’re not good luck.”
     “Whoever said they were?”
     Emery looked at Philip sadly. “Everybody knows that a rabbit’s foot is supposed to bring luck. That’s why people chop off the rabbit’s foot—to get good luck.”
     Philip winced at Emery’s description.
     “That’s just make believe,” Philip argued.
     “It’s not. Look it up. Why would people keep chopping off rabbits’ feet just for make-believe?”
     “Stop talking about chopping off feet, okay?” Philip said, his voice rising.
     “I carried my rabbit’s foot around since the party, and I didn’t have any bad luck.”
Philip waited. Then he asked, “Did you have any good luck?”
     Emery shrugged. “I got promoted,” he offered.
     Philip could feel his exasperation beginning to build as it always did when Emery started acting weird. “I got promoted, too, and I don’t even know where my stupid rabbit’s foot got to. And I didn’t have any bad luck this week either. And everybody got promoted.”
     “The babies didn’t cry as much this week,” Emery argued. Emery had two infant sisters.
     “They’re getting older. They’ll cry less anyway. What about the dream?”
     “I figured that if I got good luck during the day carrying the rabbit’s foot, then I was wasting it at night just leaving it on my bureau, so last night I decided to put it under my pillow to get good luck when I was sleeping.”
     Philip shook his head and in a loud voice cried, “What kind of good luck can you have when you’re asleep? Nothing happens when you’re asleep.”
     “I didn’t fall out of bed,” Emery said.
     “Did you ever fall out of bed before?”
     Emery thought a minute. “I don’t remember that I did.”
     “So there. You wouldn’t fall out of bed anyway. I didn’t fall out of bed. My mother and father didn’t fall out of bed. A zillion million people didn’t fall out of bed. What did the rabbit’s foot have to do with it?”
     Emery shrugged.
     “The dream?” Philip said impatiently.
     The boys had reached the corner and, with a quick look around to assure themselves that no one was watching, ducked alongside Mrs. Logan’s house and crawled into their hideaway.
     “It was weird,” Emery said reluctantly, looking at Philip. The boys sprawled on the sparse grass in the deep shade.
     Philip pressed his lips together as if he was going to burst. When Emery saw Philip’s eyes widening, he said, “Okay, I’ll tell you. I dreamed that me and you . . .”
     “I was in the dream?”
     Emery nodded. “I told you it was awful.”
     Philip frowned. “What does that mean?”
     “Me and you were somehow on a bouncing boat. I don’t know how we got there. But we were going up and down and up and down.” Emery moved his hand in time with his description.
Philip grabbed Emery’s hand and lowered it. “Up and down, yeah?”

Back to Philip and the Superstition Kid                                     

 

Philip and the Angel

                                                              Chapter One

     “Philip, why don’t you go out and play? The rain stopped half an hour ago.”
     Philip lay on the sofa reading The Sorcerer’s Stone. He looked over to the window then up at his mother. “Do I have to? Harry Potter’s in trouble.”
     “Yes, yes, yes. You have to or pretty soon you’ll be in trouble. Here.” She took his book and spread it open upside down on the coffee table to save his page. “Get some air. You haven’t been out of the house all week except to go to school.”
     “It’s been raining all week. Are you trying to get rid of me?”
     “I have to clean and you’re always in the room I’m cleaning next.”
     Philip sighed. Emery, his best friend, had called earlier to say he had a secret to show him. He couldn’t simply tell him about it so Philip shouldn’t even ask.
     Philip did ask but no matter how many times Philip begged his friend to stop being so mysterious, Emery wouldn’t. He kept a secret better than anybody Philip knew.
     “I’ll go see what Emery’s doing. He’s got something to show me.”
     “Good idea,” said his mother as she bustled out of the living room.
     Philip swung his feet to the floor and put on his sneakers while he listened to his mother doing the housework. It didn’t look like much fun being a grown-up, but then fourth grade wasn’t all that much fun, either. School would be over in another month, though, and then summer. He finished tying his sneakers and left.
     The wet grass glistened and puddles shimmered everywhere. The sun felt good. Plus a rainbow arced across the sky! Philip walked along toward Emery’s house and studied the rainbow, a really colorful one, a rainbow better than any Philip remembered ever seeing. He followed it across the sky until it disappeared behind the house in front of him. He noticed someone in the window of the house waving to him. Philip waved back before realizing it was that girl again.
     The girl’s forehead pressed against the living room window screen.
     “Hi,” she called.
     Philip stopped walking. Who was this girl? She’d moved to the neighborhood a while ago, yet he never saw her in school. He’d only seen her at different windows of her house staring out at the neighborhood. She’d begun waving to him, and he waved back. Now, she wanted to talk to him.
     “Wait,” she called and disappeared from the window. A moment later she came out the front door. She looked about the same age as Philip and had long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. As she stood there in her jeans and pink T-shirt looking at him, Philip felt nervous.
     “I’m allowed out a little today,” the girl said.
     “Because the rain stopped?” Philip asked.
     “No. No. I feel better today.”
     “Were you sick?”
     “I’m always sick.”
      This confused Philip.
     “Where do you go to school? I never see you at my school.”
     “I don’t go to school. I have a teacher who comes to my house on mornings when I feel all right.”
     “You never go to school?”
     The girl shook her head, and the ponytail waggled behind her. “What’s your name? I know where you live. The white house down there. Your father drives the blue car.”
     “Philip. I’m Philip Felton.”
     “Hi, I’m Angel.”
     “Angel?”
     The girl shrugged. “It’s what my parents named me. Angel. We moved here a little while ago.”
     “I know,” said Philip. He remembered being awakened one Saturday morning by the noise of a giant truck unloading furniture.
     A woman appeared at the front door. “Angel. Don’t stay out too long. Come on back now.”
     “My mom. Thinks I’m made of glass or something. Gotta go. I’ll watch you from the window,” said Angel, and she turned and walked back inside the house.
     Philip continued on to Emery’s house. She didn’t go to school because she was always sick? She doesn’t look sick, Philip thought. And her mother lets her out for five minutes at a time? Weird.
     Emery’s voice interrupted Philip’s thoughts. “Philip, don’t turn around. Don’t turn. Don’t turn.”
     Philip froze. “Why can’t I turn, Emery?”
     “I have my surprise with me.”
     There was a small noise. “Erf.”
     “Okay, you can look.”
     Philip turned and saw Emery walking a tiny black and brown dog with a long body and short legs.
     “What’s this?” Philip asked in surprise.
     “It’s a dog.”
     “I know it’s a dog.”
     “A dachshund.”
     “Why do you have it?”
     “That’s my surprise. My dad got it for me. It’s my new dog.”

                                                                                  Back to Philip and the Angel

The rumble of a heavy truck caused Philip to turn in his bed and open his eyes. He felt his heart pounding. He had been trapped in some dark, awful house. He immediately recognized his own bedroom and sighed in relief. Only a dream! The sound of the truck stopped briefly and started up again. Turning a corner, thought Philip. As he listened, the truck noise ended suddenly, instead of fading little by little. Philip guessed the truck had stopped somewhere in his neighborhood.

He sat up in bed, turned, put his feet on the floor, and stretched. A long Saturday loomed ahead of him. No school. What a great feeling! Philip thought of his dream again. Yesterday, his teacher Mr. Ware read the class the part of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer where Tom and Huck look for treasure in the haunted house. While they’re looking, they hear someone coming and run upstairs to hide. One of the two men who enter the haunted house turns out to be Injun Joe, who wants to kill Tom for identifying him as Doc Robinson’s murderer at Muff Potter’s trial. Injun Joe gets suspicious, takes out his knife, and starts to climb the stairs. Tom and Huck lie frozen in fear on the floor, peeking through a chink in the wood as Injun Joe, step by step, gets nearer and nearer. Then, CRASH! The old, rotten stairway collapses and tumbles Injun Joe to the floor.

When Mr. Ware read it, he’d shouted the word “crash” as loud as he could. Everyone, including Philip, jumped out of their chairs. For once he’d been paying close attention, and the teacher rewarded him by almost giving him a heart attack. Philip blamed Mr. Ware for his frightful dream.

How could Tom and Huck even want to go inside a haunted house, Philip wondered, even if they thought they’d find some buried treasure? Buried treasure. Philip thought he might go into a haunted house to get rich, but not for fun. No way. He decided he’d go back to daydreaming in school next week and stop listening to the teacher’s heart-attack reading lessons.

Philip dressed and went downstairs. His father lay on the sofa reading the newspaper.

“Well, look who’s awake,” his father said, sitting up. “Your mother went to the supermarket. Becky’s still sleeping.” Becky was Philip’s baby sister. “Emery called twice already.”

“What time is it, Dad?”

“A little after ten.”

He had slept a long time. Maybe if he’d gotten up earlier he wouldn’t have had the dream about the haunted house. Stupid reading lesson.

“Give Emery a call, and I’ll get your cereal.”

Philip called Emery, who said he’d be right over.

As Philip dropped his cereal bowl into the sink, Emery walked into the kitchen.

“Are you sick?” said Emery.

“No, I’m not sick. Why?”

“You slept so long. I only sleep long if I’m sick. My two baby sisters cry so much I can’t sleep late anyway.”

“No, I’m not sick. I had this weird dream, though.” Philip led Emery into the living room.

“You, too, eh?”

“Me, too? You had a dream?” Philip asked in alarm. Maybe something’s going around, he thought.

“No, I mean putting the dishes in the sink.”

“Oh. Yeah, something new.”

“My mother, too. She must have talked to your mother. They do these things together sometimes. What did you dream about?”

“The haunted house Mr. Ware read about yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah. When the stairs crashed, and he made everybody jump. Cool!”

“I didn’t jump,” Philip lied.

“Well, everybody else did. Haunted houses are spooky.”

“Only around Halloween,” Philip said boldly.

“All the time,” Emery replied with a sharp nod.

Philip felt he’d established his bravery, so he dropped the topic.

“Weird, though,” said Emery.

“What’s weird?”

“A big truck pulled up around the corner, and they’re taking everything out of the junky, empty house.”

“The one with all the grass growing around it?”

“Yeah. It’s still got a “Sale” sign on it so I guess nobody bought it yet. That’ll be an empty house now and look even more haunted.”

Philip pictured the house—dark, empty, and surrounded by tall weeds. It could be haunted for all he and Emery knew; and there it sat—right around the corner from where they lived.

“Want to go watch them take stuff out?” Emery asked.

“They’re still there?”

“Yeah. They only got there a little while ago.”

Philip thought of the truck that woke him up.

“Okay,” Philip said. He’d go now, but once they’d emptied the house and left it empty and lonely and scary looking, he planned to stay away from it. Far away.

                                                                    
Back to Philip and the Haunted House
 
Philip and the Haunted House

The rumble of a heavy truck caused Philip to turn in his bed and open his eyes. He felt his heart pounding. He had been trapped in some dark, awful house. He immediately recognized his own bedroom and sighed in relief. Only a dream! The sound of the truck stopped briefly and started up again. Turning a corner, thought Philip. As he listened, the truck noise ended suddenly, instead of fading little by little. Philip guessed the truck had stopped somewhere in his neighborhood.


He sat up in bed, turned, put his feet on the floor, and stretched. A long Saturday loomed ahead of him. No school. What a great feeling! Philip thought of his dream again. Yesterday, his teacher Mr. Ware read the class the part of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer where Tom and Huck look for treasure in the haunted house. While they’re looking, they hear someone coming and run upstairs to hide. One of the two men who enter the haunted house turns out to be Injun Joe, who wants to kill Tom for identifying him as Doc Robinson’s murderer at Muff Potter’s trial. Injun Joe gets suspicious, takes out his knife, and starts to climb the stairs. Tom and Huck lie frozen in fear on the floor, peeking through a chink in the wood as Injun Joe, step by step, gets nearer and nearer. Then, CRASH! The old, rotten stairway collapses and tumbles Injun Joe to the floor.

When Mr. Ware read it, he’d shouted the word “crash” as loud as he could. Everyone, including Philip, jumped out of their chairs. For once he’d been paying close attention, and the teacher rewarded him by almost giving him a heart attack. Philip blamed Mr. Ware for his frightful dream.

How could Tom and Huck even want to go inside a haunted house, Philip wondered, even if they thought they’d find some buried treasure? Buried treasure. Philip thought he might go into a haunted house to get rich, but not for fun. No way. He decided he’d go back to daydreaming in school next week and stop listening to the teacher’s heart-attack reading lessons.

Philip dressed and went downstairs. His father lay on the sofa reading the newspaper.

“Well, look who’s awake,” his father said, sitting up. “Your mother went to the supermarket. Becky’s still sleeping.” Becky was Philip’s baby sister. “Emery called twice already.”

“What time is it, Dad?”

“A little after ten.”

He had slept a long time. Maybe if he’d gotten up earlier he wouldn’t have had the dream about the haunted house. Stupid reading lesson.

“Give Emery a call, and I’ll get your cereal.”

Philip called Emery, who said he’d be right over.

As Philip dropped his cereal bowl into the sink, Emery walked into the kitchen.

“Are you sick?” said Emery.

“No, I’m not sick. Why?”

“You slept so long. I only sleep long if I’m sick. My two baby sisters cry so much I can’t sleep late anyway.”

“No, I’m not sick. I had this weird dream, though.” Philip led Emery into the living room.

“You, too, eh?”

“Me, too? You had a dream?” Philip asked in alarm. Maybe something’s going around, he thought.

“No, I mean putting the dishes in the sink.”

“Oh. Yeah, something new.”

“My mother, too. She must have talked to your mother. They do these things together sometimes. What did you dream about?”

“The haunted house Mr. Ware read about yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah. When the stairs crashed, and he made everybody jump. Cool!”

“I didn’t jump,” Philip lied.

“Well, everybody else did. Haunted houses are spooky.”

“Only around Halloween,” Philip said boldly.

“All the time,” Emery replied with a sharp nod.

Philip felt he’d established his bravery, so he dropped the topic.

“Weird, though,” said Emery.

“What’s weird?”

“A big truck pulled up around the corner, and they’re taking everything out of the junky, empty house.”

“The one with all the grass growing around it?”

“Yeah. It’s still got a “Sale” sign on it so I guess nobody bought it yet. That’ll be an empty house now and look even more haunted.”

Philip pictured the house—dark, empty, and surrounded by tall weeds. It could be haunted for all he and Emery knew; and there it sat—right around the corner from where they lived.

“Want to go watch them take stuff out?” Emery asked.

“They’re still there?”

“Yeah. They only got there a little while ago.”

Philip thought of the truck that woke him up.

“Okay,” Philip said. He’d go now, but once they’d emptied the house and left it empty and lonely and scary looking, he planned to stay away from it. Far away.
                                                                                                                                          Back to Philip and the Haunted House 
 
Philip and the Monsters
Chapter One

“Boo!” shouted Emery. Philip’s heart shot up, and his stomach tumbled. He spun to face his friend.

“Are you crazy? Are you really crazy? Why did you do that? I walk into your house and you jump out like a maniac? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Emery laughed and waved a hand at Philip. “Get out. We’re too young to have heart attacks. Unless,” said Emery in a spooky voice, “your arteries are clogged with the cholesterol of fear.”

Philip stared at Emery.

“What?” Emery asked.

Philip continued to stare.

Emery smiled nervously and shrugged.

Philip didn’t move a muscle.

Emery blinked and blinked again.

Philip continued to stare and refused to blink.

“Say something, please,” said Emery in a small voice. He waited. Philip said nothing. “Come on, you’re scaring me.”

Philip kept on staring and counted to himself. When he reached three, he threw his arms in the air and shouted, “BOOOO!”

“Ahhh!” Emery burst out. “Why did you do that? Are you crazy, too? You were scaring me and then you scared me. Why’d you scare me?”

“Can we go back to the beginning?” Philip asked slowly, still giving Emery his coldest stare.

“The beginning?”

“Did you ask me to come over so we could do our homework together?”

“Yes, I did,” said Emery, paying very close attention to Philip’s questions. He didn’t want Philip to start staring and BOO-ing him again.

“Did you tell me you would leave the front door open, and I should just walk in?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“So I could jump out and scare you.”

“Then you admit it!” Philip cried. He tried to stay calm. “Why did you want to scare me?”

“Uh, because you said I could.”

Philip stared at Emery again.

“Are you going to do the staring Boo! thing again, because . . . ?” Emery stepped back, arms out, hands waving slowly.

“No, stand still,” Philip said softly. “When did I say you could jump out at me and try to give me a heart attack? When? When did I say it?”

“You said we would do our homework together, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, so? Is giving me a heart attack doing our homework together?” Philip shouted.

“No, but scaring you is. I’m doing my report on how people act when they get scared. You have to do a report too, you know. The class report we have to do about a feeling. Remember?”

“What was the stuff you said before?”

“Before? When?”

“Before. About the arteries and the clogging.”

Emery laughed. “Did you like it? I made it up. I read this newspaper article about good heart health, and I read a different article about how peoples’ hearts beat faster when they get scared.”

“You didn’t have to read about it. I could have told you.”

“Yeah well, I put the two things together and I said . . .”

“I know what you said. What does cholesterol have to do with your report?”

“Nothing. I made a joke, for Pete’s sake.”

“Some dumb joke. Next time, save it for Pete.”

“Never mind the joke. Tell me what you felt when you got scared.” Emery scrambled to the floor and lay on his stomach, pencil in hand and notebook open. “Go on.”

Philip tried the best he could to remember everything he felt when Emery jumped out at him. As Philip talked, Emery wrote fast.

“Good,” said Emery, his pencil zipping across the paper. “Good. Now let me write what I felt when you scared me.”

When Emery finished writing, Philip said, “Lemme see.” Emery handed him the notebook.

Philip read, “When Philip first scared me by staring, I got scared because I didn’t know what he was doing. I felt scared because I didn’t know what would happen next. When Philip jumped at me, I felt really scared, heart-beating scared.”

Philip looked at Emery, impressed. “Pretty neat. You got scared a different way each time.”

“Yeah, it’s great for my report. Now I need you to add things to my list.”

“What list?”

“My list of things people get scared by. Tell me what things scare you. You know, to see or think about. Know what my mother said? She said hairy people scare her. You know with hairy hands and arms and eyebrows and nose hairs and hair where it shouldn’t be, like on warts and stuff.”

“Disgusting!”

“Yeah, but scary. Go on, what scares you?”

“What did you put for yourself?”

Emery flipped back a few pages. “I put waking up in the dark in a strange place.” Philip agreed. No argument there. It happened to him. “Watching scary movies in the dark when my parents are out.” Philip agreed again. Still no argument. “Being alone in the house. Sometimes. Like at night. That’s all.”

“They’re all good ones.”

“Your turn.”

“You took all the good ones.”

“You have to give me something different. Come on.”

“The haunted house scared us. Going inside it, remember?”

Emery wrote it down.

“Somebody finally moved in there, you know,” Emery said, when he finished writing.

“I heard. My dad told me. At least we won’t have to mow their lawn anymore. The new people can mow their own lawn.” He and Emery had beautified the deserted house by mowing its lawn as part of a community service project.

“Give me one more. A good one. How about monsters? Are you afraid of monsters?”

“What kind of monsters?”

“Regular monsters. You know. Frankenstein, Dracula, Wolfman.”

“Everybody’s supposed to be afraid of them, but they’re not real.”

“I’ll put it anyway.”

“Under my name?”

“Sure.”

“No, no,” Philip scoffed. “I don’t want everybody in the class to think I’m afraid of Dracula. Put your cousin Leon’s name instead of mine. He’s afraid of everything.”

“All right. All right. So there. Only one more person to interview and I’m done making a list. I’ll ask Mrs. Moriarty later what she’s scared of.” Mrs. Moriarty was their favorite neighbor. “Fourth grade projects aren’t so bad. You pick yours yet?” Emery closed his notebook and tossed it on the sofa.

“No,” said Philip.

“You better hurry up. Want to go see what the new haunted house family looks like?”

Philip looked out the window. It was early December and darkness arrived early. Philip checked his watch, hoping Emery got the message and would suggest a time with more daylight available.
Back to Philip and the Monsters
 
Philip and the Deadly Curse

Chapter One

Where is it? Philip wondered in exasperation as he moved every book in his school desk from one side to the other. He’d lost another Jolly Rancher, the second this week. No one could have taken it because he hadn’t been away from his desk all morning. Philip looked over his classmates to see whether anyone looked suspicious. His eyes finally settled on his best friend Emery, who sat directly across the aisle from him.

“Did you see my Jolly Rancher?” Philip whispered.
Emery shook his head and pointed to the front of the room.

“Did you lose something, Philip?” asked Mr. Ware, Philip’s fourth grade teacher. “I haven’t seen your head above the top of your desk for some time now.”

“I thought I left something here, but I can’t find it,” Philip answered.

“May I ask what is so important it takes you away from what we’re doing?”

“My Jolly Rancher.”

Mr. Ware scrunched up his face. “You lost a happy farmer?”

The class giggled.

“No, no. It’s candy.”

“Candy. Well, if anyone sees Philip’s candy, please return it to him. Now if you can return your attention to me, Philip, I’ll be a jolly teacher.”

Reluctantly, Philip sat up wondering if this bad luck of his would ever stop. Mr. Ware spoke to him nicely, but Philip knew when he’d been scolded; and he’d just been scolded. Where could his candy be? Philip began to slide down in his seat to look through his desk again, but caught himself. He’d already searched twice, and the next time Mr. Ware caught him, he would probably scold him with the louder voice the class never giggled at, and Philip had no desire to add more bad luck to his growing mountain of bad luck so he sat up and tried to pay attention. He couldn’t, though. The only thing interesting his brain at the moment was the bad luck following him everywhere lately.

When Philip met Emery for their usual walk to school that morning, Emery said hello and immediately bent over to pick up a quarter from the grass right near Philip’s left foot. Philip watched, astounded. Who knew how long the quarter had been lying there and how many times he had walked past it and not seen it? Emery shows up and one second later, he’s a quarter richer. He considered telling Emery he had a hole in his pocket and the quarter slipped through and fell out, but Emery might ask to see the hole. Philip had no choice but to congratulate Emery on his lucky find and silently bemoan his own bad luck.

Now his candy had disappeared, and Philip was fed up with one piece of bad luck following another and another and another. What could he do about it? Nothing. He sat back dejectedly and listened to Mr. Ware drone on about common denominators.

Walking home with Emery later, Philip decided to share his problem with his friend.

“Emery,” Philip began.

“Hold it,” Emery cried and ran across the street. He bent down and picked up something, then ran back to Philip. A big smile on his face, Emery held up a hard, pink air ball. “Here, catch.”

Philip grabbed the ball. “This is what you ran over there to get?” He bounced the ball and found it in very good shape.

“Didn’t you see it laying right along the curb?”

Philip shook his head and handed the ball back to Emery, who shoved it into his coat pocket.

Philip looked at him in sad wonder and said, “You found a quarter this morning and a good ball this afternoon.”

Emery shrugged and smiled. “Lucky, I guess.”

“Yeah, but why? Today I lost my Jolly Rancher. Mr. Ware yelled at me. I lost another Jolly Rancher Monday. I didn’t find the quarter, and I didn’t find the ball. All I have is bad luck. Why?”

“Maybe you need a good luck charm, like mine,” Emery said.

Philip stopped walking. “A good luck charm? You have one?”

Emery nodded. “Sure. Come on. It’s cold.”

“Show me,” Philip said.

“I’ll show you at my house. It’s in my pocket. I don’t want to undo my coat out here.”
Philip wondered what could possibly be giving Emery all of this good luck.
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