Sam Wu Is Not Afraid of Ghosts Read online

  STERLING CHILDREN’S BOOKS and the distinctive Sterling Children’s Books logo are registered trademarks of Sterling Publishing Co., Inc.

  Text © 2018 Katie Tsang and Kevin Tsang

  Illustrations © 2018 Nathan Reed

  Additional illustrations © 2018 Egmont Ltd.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-4549-3257-4

  For information about custom editions, special sales, and premium and corporate purchases, please contact Sterling Special Sales at 800-805-5489 or [email protected].

  sterlingpublishing.com

  FOR OUR PARENTS

  -Katie & Kevin Tsang

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  DON’T CALL ME SCAREDY-CAT SAM

  CHAPTER 2

  THE UNFORTUNATE INCIDENT THAT WILL NEVER BE MENTIONED AGAIN

  CHAPTER 3

  BLAST-OFF ON TWO-WHEEL TUBS

  CHAPTER 4

  A DANGEROUS SIDEKICK

  CHAPTER 5

  ALIEN CONTAMINATION

  CHAPTER 6

  DUCK, DUCK, TURNIP CAKE

  CHAPTER 7

  EVEN SPACEMAN JACK WOULD BE IMPRESSED

  CHAPTER 8

  LIGHTS OUT

  CHAPTER 9

  WORMHOLES ARE REAL (AND GHOSTS ARE, TOO)

  CHAPTER 10

  THE MOST LOGICAL CONCLUSION

  CHAPTER 11

  PICKLE CASSEROLE

  CHAPTER 12

  ALWAYS BLAME BUTTERBUTT

  CHAPTER 13

  GHOST HUNTERS AND SNAKE WRANGLERS

  CHAPTER 14

  THINK LIKE A GHOST

  CHAPTER 15

  A SHOCKING REVELATION

  CHAPTER 16

  BUTTERBUTT STRIKES AGAIN

  CHAPTER 17

  CERTIFIED GHOST HUNTERS

  CHAPTER 18

  NOT AFRAID

  My name is Sam Wu, and I am NOT afraid of ghosts.

  I know this for a fact because I recently had to become a genuine, certified1 ghost hunter. Some people might try to tell you otherwise. But those people are LIARS. Do NOT listen to them. Especially do not listen to them if their name is Ralph Philip Zinkerman the Third. Ralph will tell you that I am . . . Scaredy-Cat Sam.

  For the record, I am NOT a scaredy-cat. If I were a cat, I’d be like my little sister Lucy’s cat, Butterbutt. DO NOT BE FOOLED BY THE NAME.

  Butterbutt is an

  EVIL NINJA!

  Even my Na-Na (that’s my grandma — she lives with us) is scared of Butterbutt, and she is so brave that one time she wrestled an ALLIGATOR!

  When I tried to explain to Ralph that:

  A. I am NOT a scaredy-cat and

  B. Scaredy-Cat doesn’t make sense as an insult

  he just laughed at me and said I was probably scared of cats, too. Which obviously ISN’T TRUE.

  He’s never met Butterbutt. I bet he’d be scared of Butterbutt.

  You are probably wondering why Ralph calls me Scaredy-Cat Sam.

  Now listen closely, because I’m only going to tell this story ONCE. Okay? I don’t even let my best friends Zoe and Bernard talk about it. And we talk about everything. But even they know NOT to ever mention it. It isn’t a laughing matter, no matter what some people might tell you.

  It should have been the best day of the year. It was the day of the class field trip to the Space Museum. It was all I had thought about for months. You see, the Space Museum had a REAL spaceship in it. The only spaceship I’d ever seen was on my favorite TV show

  I was so excited, I even wore my special spaceman gear, which was carefully crafted by ’ number one fan (i.e. me).

  Unfortunately, space gear is expensive. So I had to be resourceful and make my own even better space equipment. All it took was a bike helmet, some plastic wrap, and a few flashlights (it’s dark in space). I even made a custom shirt with some felt tip markers.

  I thought it was going to be a perfect day.

  I was wrong.

  It all started when I got on the bus to go to the museum. I sat down next to Zoe and Bernard, proudly wearing my T-shirt and specially crafted space helmet.

  “Sam,” said Bernard, blinking at me. “What exactly are you wearing?” He was holding a lightsaber and wearing a Star Wars T-shirt. A fancy one. NOT one that he had made himself.

  “Yeah,” said Zoe, frowning at my T-shirt. “What’s a space blaster?”

  This was NOT the reaction I was expecting.

  “Oh,” I said as I pointed at my T-shirt.

  “This is Spaceman Jack, and this is Captain Jane!” Or at least it was supposed to be. Drawing is NOT one of my talents.

  My friends stared at me blankly.

  “Spaceman Jack and Captain Jane?” asked Bernard.

  “Hmm . . . I should have drawn Five-Eyed Frank, huh? He’s probably more recognizable.”

  “Five-Eyed Frank? What are you talking about?” asked Zoe.

  I looked around the bus, and I realized that NOBODY had any kind of gear on. I didn’t get it! is the

  “You know — ?”

  Their expressions told me that they did NOT know about .

  “It’s all about Captain Jane and Spaceman Jack’s adventures with their alien friend Five-Eyed Frank. They travel on TUBS, which stands for ‘The Universe’s Best Spacecraft,’ and BLAST through wormholes to other galaxies and fight bad guys. It’s the BEST!”

  “So . . . it’s like a less cool Star Wars?” asked Bernard.

  “No,” I scoffed. “It’s WAY cooler.” I actually wasn’t totally sure. I’d never seen Star Wars.

  Zoe and Bernard were still looking at me like they didn’t believe was the best show in all of the universe. “You’ll understand when you watch it,” I said.

  “All right,” Zoe said, and Bernard nodded. And then we were at the Space Museum.

  And that is when it all REALLY went wrong.

  1 Certification came from my friend Zoe, but that’s not important.

  After waiting in a super-long line we were FINALLY in the Space Museum.

  And it was awesome. We even got to go inside the spaceship! I felt like I really was Spaceman Jack.

  “This is AWESOME,” I said.

  Then someone snorted. That someone being the worst person in this galaxy, and maybe in all of the galaxies. That someone being Ralph Philip Zinkerman the Third.

  “This place is so lame,” said Ralph. “Real space camp will be way cooler. I’m going inside an anti-gravity machine.”

  If anything was going to ruin the trip to the space museum, it was Ralph. He’d told us all about how he was going to a fancy-schmancy space camp in the summer. The kind that costs about a bajillion dollars. The kind that I would give ANYTHING to go to.

  “Hey, Sam Wu-ser,” said Ralph. He laughed an evil-villain laugh. He thinks it’s hilarious that he can make my last name rhyme with loser.

  Ralph knocked on my spaceman helmet. “What is this thing on your head? Are you supposed to be an astronaut? I can’t tell through all the lameness.”

  “I’m NOT an astronaut,” I said. “I’m a spaceman. TOTALLY different.”

  Ralph snorted. Again. He’s a master of snorts.

  Before I could explain, Zoe jumped in.

  “Sam is OBVIOUSLY Spaceman Jack,” she said. “From . Haven’t you ever heard of it?”

  This is why Zoe is the greatest friend in the history of the universe.

  “Spaceman Jack?” asked Ralp
h, frowning. “Sounds dumb.”

  “Tell him all about Spaceman Jack and Four-Eyed Fred!” said Bernard. He was bouncing next to me, waving his lightsaber around.

  “Five-Eyed Frank,” I corrected, but it didn’t matter. I looked Ralph straight in the eye. Just like Spaceman Jack always looks at the bad guys before he battles them. “Spaceman Jack is the bravest being in all the galaxy.”

  Ralph snorted (seriously he could win a snorting competition). “And you’re supposed to be this ‘Spaceman Jack’?” he said.

  I nodded so hard that my helmet slipped over my eyes and I had to push it back up.

  “Well, if you’re so brave, why don’t you get in that thing?” Ralph smiled a nasty smile and pointed over my shoulder.

  I slowly turned, then my stomach dropped into my shoes.

  It looked like a giant dinosaur egg. If a giant dinosaur egg was also a bomb.

  “It says For Adult Riders Only,” said a new voice.

  It was Regina. Ralph’s twin sister. But she wasn’t evil like he was. “Sam shouldn’t go in that,” she said. “And I think it’s broken. It might be dangerous.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be some brave spaceman?” Ralph said to me. “Or are you too scared, Sam Wu-ser?”

  I swallowed and wiped some sweat from my eyebrow. “I’m NOT too scared.” (I was pretty scared but hiding it incredibly well, I thought.)

  “Come on, Sam!” Zoe whispered. “Bernard and I will watch out for Ms. Winkleworth. You can do it — show everyone that you aren’t afraid!”

  “Don’t do it, Sam!” said Regina. “You’ll get in trouble. Or worse!”

  By “worse” I think she meant that the Astro Blast Simulator could kill me. Because it looked like it could.

  “Now, Sam! Ms. Winkleworth is looking away — this is your only chance!” said Zoe.

  “He won’t do it,” said Ralph.

  You can do it, Sam, said a voice in my head. It was the voice of Captain Jane, the captain of the Space Blasters crew. Sometimes, when I’m feeling SLIGHTLY less brave, I hear Captain Jane or Spaceman Jack in my head. Don’t you think I was afraid when I went through my first wormhole? Or when I first saw the Ghost King on TUBS? Do it for the universe, Sam.

  I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t let Captain Jane down.

  I turned and looked at Zoe, Bernard, and Regina. I shot my hand up toward the sky like a rocket. “For the universe!” I declared and then, before I could change my mind, I ran as fast as I could toward the Astro Blast Simulator.

  I hoped they didn’t see how much I was shaking. Which wasn’t even that much.

  It was dark inside the Astro Blast Simulator. Darker than I thought it would be. Dark like in-space dark.

  Before I even got my seat belt on or could turn on one of my flashlights, a countdown started.

  “Five, four, three . . .”

  “Wait!” I shouted at the Astro Blast Simulator. “I need to put my seat belt on!” TUBS always listens to the Space Blasters when they yell at it.

  The Astro Blast Simulator did NOT listen to me.

  “Two . . . one . . . BLAST OFF!”

  And blast off it did.

  I finally understood what Spaceman Jack meant when he said blast-off felt like being an egg scrambled in a hot frying pan. The whole thing was shaking so hard I thought my head was going to fly off.

  AND THEN IT STARTED SMOKING.

  I coughed; I couldn’t breathe. I bravely yelled for someone to make it stop, but it kept shaking!

  And then I took matters into my own hands. I banged on the side of the walls. I kicked. I shouted, “I command you to stop, Astro Blast Simulator!” as loud as I could. But it didn’t. It was out of control!

  It was just like when Captain Jane’s worst enemy, the Ghost King, took over TUBS. I tried to think what Spaceman Jack would do but all I could think was:

  I’M GOING TO DIE.

  And then:

  OH NO, WHY DID I START THINKING ABOUT THE GHOST KING?

  The Ghost King is the scariest thing in the entire universe. Even Captain Jane and Spaceman Jack are afraid of him. I like to think he’s my greatest fear because I’m a born spaceman. And ANYONE with a brain would be afraid of the Ghost King.

  And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, THE FACE OF THE GHOST KING APPEARED IN THE SMOKE. HE WAS COMING TO GET ME.

  Goodbye, world . . .

  And then there was light. The Ghost King must have got me. At least I died a brave death.

  “Sam Wu! What are you doing?”

  I blinked up into the light. The voice sounded angrier than a heavenly angel would. It actually sounded a lot like Ms Winkleworth.

  “Sam! Get out of there, right now!”

  I rubbed my eyes. It WAS Ms. Winkleworth! I wasn’t dead! I had survived, AND I had somehow defeated the Ghost King. And I was NOT afraid! I crawled out of the Astro Blast Simulator and stood proudly in front of everyone.

  I was expecting applause.

  I wasn’t expecting what happened next.

  A shocked silence.

  And then . . .

  And rising above the laughter, Ralph’s voice . . .

  I looked down.

  It was true.

  You should know that Spaceman Jack has never, ever peed his pants.

  So. There it is. Don’t ask me any questions about it. We’ll never speak of it again.

  But then I had to prove that I WASN’T a scaredy-cat. (And hope that I had banished the Ghost King for good.)

  After the INCIDENT, I knew I could never show my face at school again. Just like when Five-Eyed Frank got framed for an evil crime on his home planet and had to blast off to a faraway moon.

  As I’m sure you’ve gathered, unlike the , I don’t fly spaceships, so I didn’t have the faraway moon option. Instead, I took off on my version of an intergalactic travel machine: Two-Wheel TUBS. (I named my bike after the ’ spaceship: TUBS, which stands for “The Universe’s Best Spaceship.” I added the “Two-Wheel” so people would know it was a bike.)

  I didn’t know where I was going, but I just had to get out of town and escape the name “Scaredy-Cat Sam.” I would have a brave adventure. And I would have to do it while Na-Na was napping and before my mom and dad got home from work.

  So I packed a bag with everything I’d need for my new life on the run:

  My custom-made space helmet (to protect my head from ghost attacks)

  My extremely valuable special edition collectible cards (for bartering)

  Poison mist (my mom’s hairspray)

  Bag of rice (a spaceman’s gotta eat)

  Bottle of my favorite hot sauce (good for blinding ghosts and also for seasoning my food)

  Extra pair of underwear (just in case I had another ghost-related incident)

  I didn’t want my family to worry, so I left them a note.

  Dear Mom, Dad, Na-Na, Lucy, and Butterbutt,

  I’m very sorry, but the time has come for me to blast off to the far beyond for a brave adventure and to make a new name for myself. You’ll probably never see me again. Don’t believe any rumors you hear about me.

  Mom, it was me who broke your favorite vase, not Butterbutt.

  Dad, please stop doing the hokey-pokey at family parties.

  Na-Na, sorry I won’t be there to help you weed the garden.

  Lucy, help Na-Na weed the garden. And don’t let Butterbutt in my room.

  Love,

  Spaceman Sam

  P.S. Watch out for the Ghost King. He’s tricky — I know from experience.

  It was almost a clean escape. But then my little sister, Lucy, came into the kitchen just as I was putting the rice in my backpack. She was holding Butterbutt (who was looking especially evil).

  “Sam,” she asked, stroking Butterbutt, “why are you putting a bag of rice in your backpack?”

  “None of your business!” I said, without making eye contact with her.

  She put Butterbutt down and started poking through my
backpack. Butterbutt began attacking my ankles. I was definitely NOT going to miss him.

  “What are you doing with Mom’s hairspray?” asked Lucy.

  “That’s NOT hairspray, it’s poison mist for me to use on my enemies. And put it back.”

  “You don’t have any enemies,” she said.

  “I have plenty of enemies,” I said, grimly. But I didn’t want her to be too scared, so I put on a tough voice and added, “But there’s nothing for you to worry about, little Lucy.”

  Lucy frowned. “Why do you sound so stuffy? Do you need to blow your nose?”

  I glared at her. “Never mind,” I said. “Now go back to your room. I’ve got things to do, places to go, ghosts to banish, things to blast . . .”

  I swung my backpack onto my shoulders with a grunt. It was heavier than I’d thought. It was probably the rice, which was taking up most of the space. I patted Lucy on the head.

  “Be good for Mom and Dad,” I said. ‘And help Na-Na in the garden.’

  “You’re so weird,” she said, but she went back to her room, and Butterbutt followed her (with one final swipe at my feet).

  And then it was time for my great escape — my brave adventure. I couldn’t even tell Zoe or Bernard where I was going.2

  Unfortunately, it was still daytime, and I couldn’t see the moon, so I stopped at the park and went on the swings for a while.

  I was pretty lonely, swinging by myself. I was going to have to get used to that, though, being bravely on the run, all alone.

  I thought about when Spaceman Jack was on the run from the Ghost King and what he did. Then it hit me. I needed a trusty companion! Just like Spaceman Jack had his flying lizard, Three-Headed Tommy!

  Three-Headed Tommy is always by Spaceman Jack’s side. Whether they’re eating on TUBS or getting sucked through black holes or exploring a new galaxy, wherever Spaceman Jack goes, Tommy is there, too. So I knew I wouldn’t get lonely (or only very occasionally a tiny bit scared) if I had my own trusty companion.