Milo pushed his round glasses up his nose and grinned at his pile of scraps. Empty boxes, old springs, tangled wires—all the stuff he'd been taking apart for weeks. Tonight was the night. He was going to build something that actually worked.

"A candy carrier!" he announced to the empty garage. "The best one ever."

He'd already snapped two rubber bands and tangled himself in measuring tape when he realized he needed one more part. Just one. A small wheel or a hinge or something. He rummaged through his box of treasures, but it was empty.

Milo's heart did a flip. Tonight was Halloween. Trick-or-treaters would be out soon, and his invention had to be ready. He looked out the garage door. The neighborhood was already dark. Carved jack-o'-lanterns glowed on porches. Decorations swayed in the wind.

Then he saw it: the house on the corner. The one everyone whispered about. It had a creaky gate, vines crawling up the walls, and a crooked weathervane that spun with a screech. Kids always walked faster past that one. Milo's stomach felt jumpy.

But Mr. Chen, who lived there, was a tinkerer too. He might have a hinge.

Milo gulped. He started walking. The gate creaked louder than he expected. The decorations looked extra spooky in the dark. A skeleton hung near the porch, swaying like it was waving at him.

His hand shook as he knocked. The door swung open, and there was Mr. Chen, smiling warmly. "Well, hello there, Milo! Come in, come in. It's cold out."

Inside, everything glowed with soft lamp light. The house smelled like apple pie. Pictures covered the walls—Mr. Chen with his grandchildren, Mr. Chen at the beach, Mr. Chen holding up a fish he'd caught.

On a table sat half-built clocks and music boxes and little robots, all waiting to be fixed. "I'm building something," Milo said, feeling braver now. "I need a hinge."

"You've come to the right place." Mr. Chen's eyes twinkled. He led Milo to a shelf and pulled out a perfect brass hinge. "Tell me what you're making."

As Milo explained his candy carrier, Mr. Chen nodded and asked questions and even helped him test how it would work. Before long, Milo was heading back outside with his hinge and his new friend's advice echoing in his ears.

The spooky house didn't seem scary anymore. He waved at the swaying skeleton on the way out. Milo finished his invention just as the sun dipped below the horizon. When the first trick-or-treaters arrived at his porch, they stopped to stare.

"Whoa," said a ghost. "What is that?" "A candy carrier," Milo said proudly. "I made it myself."

As the neighborhood filled with laughing children in costumes, Milo thought about the corner house. It wasn't spooky at all. It just looked that way in the dark.