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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Slapfight Among Friends"  You hesitate for maybe ten seconds before replying to Jamie: Meet me at dons donuts meeting friends there n we can talk. Your mom and dad are at the table eating breakfast when you tumble downstairs, and they are both surprised to see you up so early. "I'm meeting Caleb 'n Keith for donuts," you mumble at them by way of explanation. "You gonna comb your hair first?" your dad asks. You answer by slapping your cap onto your head and running for the door. Jamie's answer comes as your climbing up into your truck: ok cool. When worlds collide, you find yourself thinking with a sinking heart as you start the motor. * * * * * You're not quite sure what possessed you to tell Jamie to meet up with you and your friends at the donut shop. It must be on account of a circle you wanted to square. You planned to meet Caleb and Keith this morning because they are feeling neglected, and Jamie it appears is desperate to meet up with you too. And by putting everyone together this way, your friends might get to see that Jamie really isn't such a bad dude, and they won't hassle you so much about him. Don's Donuts is a dinky little shop in a sagging strip center on the east side of town. There's only room inside for four small tables, the donut display case, and the register. Keith, in his apron and paper hat, chucks his chin at you as you enter. "Hey man, would'a bet for sure you were gonna skip." He doesn't sound happy at having lost that nominal bet. "Where's Caleb?" you ask as you scan the display case. Don's serves only the most basic kinds of donuts: glazed, chocolate, and raspberry; a few jelly- and cream-filled rolls; and bear claws. All of them look a little smushed and used, though they should be fresh-made. "He's coming." "I got a text from him, thought he'd be here waiting by now." "I told you he's coming. He's probably still home jerking off in bed." You make a face at Keith, and suddenly the cream-filled donuts, which you were leaning toward, don't sound so good. You indicate you'll take a chocolate, and ask for a small coffee. "Can you comp me?" you ask Keith. "Fuck no." "Jesus, man. Aren't we friends still?" "Sure we are. That's how come I ain't compin' you. It would make things weird. Oh fuck," he says, and glances over your shoulder. You glance back to see Rennerhoff hopping up to the door. Before you can assure Keith it's all cool, Jamie comes loping in. "Hey man," he greets you, and raises a slim hand for high-five. You oblige him. "Where's your posse?" He glances around the empty restaurant. "Not here yet. Uh, Caleb's not here yet. This is Keith." You indicate Tilley, who staring with a slack jaw. "Keith, you know Jamie from school." "Oh yeah!" Jamie exclaims. His eyes light up. "Saw you in the E wing boys' room the other day. Javits was usin' your face as a back board. How many free throws did he score?" Keith says nothing, but his ears flush very red. "Keith's one of my best friends," you inform Jamie. "I'm working on a project with Jamie," you tell Tilley. "'At's right," says Jamie, who shows no remorse at having said what he said to Keith. He bends over to examine the display case. "What's the freshest thing you got?" "I'm having a chocolate donut," you tell Jamie as Keith's jaw silently works. " And a coffee. Uh—" "I'll have two of the same," Jamie tells Keith. "'Cep' for the coffee, I only want one of them. So you work here, huh?" he says to Keith as Tilley stiffly gets out the donuts. "Man, if I was workin' here, I'd weigh at least four hundred pounds by now. But I guess they count the merchandise so's you can't sneak any." This is the worst idea I ever had, you tell yourself as you rub a circle into your temple, which has suddenly started to throb. You're just taking your trays over to a nearby table when Caleb appears outside the shop. He stops dead on his feet when he sees you with Rennerhoff. "Hey man," you call over to him. "We didn't wait for you." "So I see." Caleb turns a poker face between you and Tilley and back again. "Uh ..." "You know Jamie from school," you sigh at him. "Jamie, this is Caleb. My other best friend." "Dude!" Jamie toasts Caleb with his coffee, and slurps it down. "I can't stay as long as I thought," Caleb tells Keith as he draws up to the counter. "Bag me a bear claw and a coffee to go." Keith mutters something at him, to which Caleb replies, "No, fuck you. You're getting paid to stay." "So I stopped by the place," Jamie say, but you only listen with half your attention as you fumble for a way of retrieving this unfolding disaster, "and the thing's all ready. You know? I couldn't get it to relight." "Yeah?" you say. You're watching Caleb and Keith from the corner of your eye, but they seem to be ignoring you. "Yeah, so I pulled the book out. I guess it's done 'cos look here. I got the page to turn." "Uh huh." That's when you swing around and do a triple take at Jamie. He's brought the book—the fucking grimoire itself!—and he has it out on the table between you and is flipping between one page and another. "Also," he adds as he lays a glowing mask on top of the book, "one o' my mom's boyfriends stayed over last night, so I tried the dinguses out on him." He grins so wide it looks like the top of his head is going fall back, like it's on a hinge, and waggles his eyebrows at you. "I tried 'em out, and they totally work!" You can only stare in horror, eyes bulging and jaw frozen, as Caleb shuffles over to peer down at the project. "So what's this?" he asks. "Shit me an' Will's been working on," Jamie tells him with cheerful abandon. "Sit your ass down an' we'll tell you about it." * * * * * "Well, fuck, man!" Jamie exclaims later, when Keith and Caleb have both gone, and it's just you and him standing outside the community center. "I thought that's how come you wanted to meet up with 'em! 'Cos you told 'em or you wanted to tell 'em what we was doin'!" He still seems to be on some kind of high, like he's drunk or on speed. He vibrated with enthusiasm at Don's as he told your uncomprehending friends about the masks you'd made and the disguises you'd used, including how you'd disguised yourself as his own mom in order to fool one of the high school counselors. You could only sit there, petrified with embarrassment while the blood crawled and pulsed inside your face. Then, when Keith's shift was over, you all decamped to the elementary school, so that you and he could show the other two the thing you had made with four hundred pounds of cemetery dirt, and so that that Jamie could demonstrate the use of the masks by letting Caleb and Keith take turns putting on the mask of himself. Until that moment, you were sure, both Caleb and Keith had been skeptical and even horrified by Jamie's demented ravings. Afterward, they both were freaked out, and quickly made their excuses before bolting. Only then, when you finally had Jamie to yourself, and he asked you what their problem was, did you explain that they had had no idea what you'd been working on, and that you hadn't meant to tell them. "Well, it's all out now," Jamie now says with cheerful complacency. "They'll be cool with it, you'll see. 'Cos it's really cool, isn't it? C'mon." He slaps you in the stomach. "We still need to check out what that thing is, what it's supposed to be." He skips back over to the door to the basement. You follow more slowly. He's already got the book out when you join him, and is reading it while perched cross-legged on a table. You hesitate before speaking. "You said you tried out the things you made this morning," you remind. "Huh? Oh yeah." "You didn't try out that mask, though. 'Cos we had to seal it up when we got back here." "Oh, right. I just meant the metal doodad." He hikes up a hip and digs a metal strip out from his pocket. "Totally worked on me when I tried it," he says as he flings it to you. You examine the name that floats over it: CASSIDY PATRICK FLANAGAN. It's a copy of a brain to go with the copy of the body that he made, of the guy that you and Jamie ran into out at the soccer fields after shopping for supplies. You wonder a little that Jamie would want to copy a guy who he clearly hates so much, and who had just slept with his mom. Then you reflect that it actually makes perfect sense. He wasn't copying the guy, he was experimenting on him, treating him like a guinea pig. Jamie interrupts your thoughts with an exclamation. "Hey," he says as he studies the screen of his phone, glancing between it and the book. "This thing we made, I think it's like a magical robot." At almost the same moment your phone chimes with a text. It's from Caleb: r u free to fucking talk? Next: "People Who Do What They're Told -- Or Don't" |
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