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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Golem Goes Wild"  "Fuck," Caleb says. "No way we can get into the mutant school." "What about that girl up at the minigolf?" you say. When he only frowns and blinks, you add, "Can you think of any other way in?" "What girl?" Eva asks. You tell her about the booth-girl up at the Monte Viso entertainment complex. "No offense, Will," she says when you're done, "but how desperate would she have to be to do something with you?" "Oh, sure," you retort, "I have no idea why I would take offense at that. But if we don't try talking to her—" "I didn't say we shouldn't try," Eva says as she starts the car. "I was just hoping you could promise me she's desperate enough to listen to you." * * * * * Roxanne doesn't work on Sundays, you learn from the guy who is manning the booth in her stead, and he can't—or won't—give you her cell number. But he does consent to write your number down, and says—though whether he means it is another question—that he'll pass it and a message along to her if he hears from you. Your trio then returns to the elementary school long enough to pick up the grimoire and some magic supplies, and swings by Caleb's house to pick up the mask that he's nearly finished polishing, before returning to Dylan's. No one says anything, but you're thinking (and the others probably are too) that it might take a disguise to get into St. Xavier's. After you're settled in Dylan's living room, and he's changed back into his own face and clothes, you work on some new gear, talking as you do. Dylan begins by revealing that, in addition to some of his clothes, the rebel golem also stole all the cash he had on hand, and his debit and credit cards. "Pretty fucking ironic," he grouses, "since that's what I wanted to do to him." "I thought you wanted to have fun with him," you mutter. Caleb says, "The golem didn't come with his own debit and credit cards." "I did want to have fun with him," Dylan retorts. "And I was gonna pick some plastic up off the guy I copied. You know, I owed you guys some money, so I thought, Hey, I'll just pick up some rich fucker, copy him, lift his wallet along with his face, then hit an ATM machine before he noticed it was gone." "Jesus!" you exclaim. "You'd actually—" "Don't tell me you wouldn't," Dylan sneers. "What kind of virginal assholes are you? What else are these things good for?" He indicates the mask that Caleb is polishing. "Aside from, you know, the other stuff you can do with them." You and Caleb exchange pale looks. What Dylan is true: you could use these things for some pretty hardcore identity theft. But could you actually go through with the kind of thing Dylan is talking about? "That's how come I picked the guys I did," Dylan concludes with a sigh. "They could afford to miss it." "Except you didn't even get one of them," Caleb says. "You got one of the mutants." "Why do you call them that?" "You're not from around here, are you?" you observe. "Springfield, originally," he says. "Tell me about this school." So you give him the four-one-one on St Xavier's, as much as you know. Dylan nods when you finish. "Patrick, or whatever his name is, must be a senior out there or something," he says. "If they're all as rich and bratty as you make it sound, he'd fit right in over at Broad Street. Probably thinks they're a lot of would-bes and wanna-bes. He was sure fucking arrogant enough." He shivers. "This girl we want to talk to is a local, though," you say. "I guess there's a chance he might be too." "And how is she going to help?" Dylan wants to know. You shrug and mumble something about "identifying the guy." Even now you can't articulate aloud your idea that you might have to copy this girl Roxanne. And then Caleb has to say, "You know, the golem's been gone for hours. If it was going to go out to Xavier's and do something funky, you know, it's probably done it by now." That casts a pall over the room, and the conversation shrivels into silence. * * * * * It's a little past seven when your phone dings with a text. You assume it's from your mother, asking if you're coming home for supper, but it's from Roxanne: R u that guy whos sorry he called me a mutant? Not a promising start, but at least she did text you. After a little hesitation, you text back, Yes im still sorry can we meet so I can say sorry again? Dont want sorries, she replies, but u can come out to batting cages. You ask where those are, and she gives you directions. "Are you done?" Dylan asks as you get up, for you're still carving runes into the memory band. "Are you just going to leave that for the rest of us?" he asks when you thrust the metal strip at him. "I've gotta go talk to her." "And what do we do with these?" Caleb asks. He is still polishing his mask. "Keep working on them. And pray we won't need them." Roxanne's directions send you to the northeast part of town, past the mall and into a residential section you've never been in before. In the heart of the suburb is a park, and in the middle of the park is a set of batting cages. Night has fallen by the time you arrive, and the fields are dark but the cages are lit up by buzzing arc lights. From inside one you hear the metallic clang of a bat hitting a ball. That's the one you approach. "Hey," you call out to the figure inside. He or she is wearing a batting helmet, and not until they look over do you recognize Roxanne's fox-like face. She gives you a wary look before replying with a "Hey" of her own. "It's me," you say. "The guy from yesterday. You texted me." "I know who you are." With a grimace she steps back as another ball goes whizzing past. "Gimme a minute?" she says. So you step back and watch her. Does she have good form? You can't tell, not being a baseball player yourself. But she misses more often than she hits, and she fouls one ball off the cage near her head in way that almost brains her. But after five or ten minutes, she signals that you can come over to talk. "How do I get in?" you ask as you clasp the cage. "You don't, you stay out there. I almost changed my mind after texting you. But what the hell." She gives you a look up and down. "You don't look like a serial killer." "Thanks. But why'd you tell me where you were?" "To see what you'd do. You came looking for me again. Is that usual with you?" "You mean, like, looking for a girl again? I 'unno. But you seemed kind of interesting. And I don't know anyone who goes to ... St. Xavier's." She makes a face. "Oh, you mean I'm exotic. X is for X-Men, X is for Xavier's, X is for exotic." She steps back from wire cage that separates you. "Well, I'm just a local girl, I grew up in this shit town the same as you. I just go to a different high school." "You wanna go someplace, hang out, tell me about it?" "Why?" "'Cos I'm interested. I'll tell you about myself." "You think I'm interested in you?" "I came out to see you when you texted me." There's a shadow across her face, so you can't really make out her expression as she regards you. Then she says, "Okay. But just remember," she adds, "keep ten feet away from me at all times. And don't forget I've got a bat." You nod. Even though, judging by her performance inside the batting cage, you're not sure she could hit you with it even if she tried. * * * * * After a short consultation in the parking lot—keeping ten feet apart—you drive out separately to a Burger King, where you each get a shake and split a small order of fries. Roxanne is still wary, but she's relaxed enough—or maybe just tired enough—to talk without putting her hackles up. You don't have a lot in common, it turns out, except for both being seventeen, so you don't have much trouble steering the conversation in the direction of St. Xavier's, asking what it's like there. "Rich," she says. "Rich and pampered. Do you know what eventing is? It's horseback-riding. Well, that's one of the P. E. things they have out there. No shit, there's a stable with horses and everything. And most of the girls provide their own." "Whoa. What if I wanted to go out there and look around?" "You mean visit?" Roxanne shakes her head. "Not possible. You gotta be a student to get in. Or a parent looking to enroll. The boarders sleep there, and the rest of us get taken in on a bus. Where do you go to school? Would I be able to get in there and look around?" "Well, sure, I guess. Don't know why you'd want to though." "Same reason you want to go out to St. Xavier. See how the other half lives." She says it with a sarcastic sneer. But you wonder if she's more than half-serious. Could you copy her, then invite her to "visit" Westside for a day, and while she's there use her face to infiltrate the mutant school? Or—your heart beats wildly at the thought—could you just tell her about the book and masks, and ask her help getting into her academy to look around? Next: "The Girl Who Can Get You In" |
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