%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Jobs Begun Badly, Then Bungled"  You recoil from the window. But of course it's no use. Dwayne has seen you, and he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'll keep politely knocking, even when the door is locked. His eyes are clear and cold, and they're set in an expressionless face as you let him in. You bleat out an apology, and your guts feel very cold. But even though you feel very frightened, somehow you know you should be much more frightened than you actually are. And that's what scares you: Knowing that soon you'll be even more frightened than you are now. But Dwayne only says two words: "What happened?" "I dunno, man! I put the stuff where I was supposed to! But it wasn't there when Chen went to get it, and my man Semple, he said—" "He said he saw someone else fucking around with it," Dwayne finishes for you. "A guy named Black?" You nod fervently. "But how did he know it was there?" "I dunno! I never told him, never showed him, I swear! He must've seen me put it there, then—" "You mean you put it somewhere that someone could see you putting it there?" "It's at fucking school, man, there's people all over the place!" Dwayne studies you evenly, then takes a step forward. You hunch defensively, flapping your hands about uselessly to block the blow you're sure is coming. But he only peers down the hallway toward the bedrooms. "Your mom here?" "No, I dunno where—" "Okay, I got only three things to say to you, Dane. First is that I'm cutting you off for the rest of the year. No more. You're too far fucking gone. Sober up." You nod fervently in agreement. "Second—" His arm blurs, and an agonizing pain explodes through your gut and up your spinal column. You collapse to the floor, unable to breathe, and feel your eyes rolling back in pain. After an eternity during which you try to suck in oxygen through your pores, you raspingly inhale one great gulp. It's like breathing in liquid fire. Dwayne just stands over you as your screaming nerves gradually settle; after a few minutes, you're strong enough to crawl into the bean bag, and huddle on it, looking up at him through streaming tears. After you wipe them away, he speaks again. "That was so you don't fuck up again," he says. "I'm not even mad at you, which is why I didn't even try to hurt you. But if you fuck up again, and I'm the one who has to eat twenty-two long ones, I will show you what pain really means. And third—" He bends down close to you. "I told Chen he couldn't kill you," he says quietly, "because you're my cousin. But I also told him he could do anything to you up to killing you. Because he's the one who's out twenty-two thousand dollars. And if he puts you in the hospital, I'm not paying the bill." He stand up again. "So think long and hard about what kind of favors you can do for him." He goes to the door. "Have a good weekend, dude," he says over his shoulder, and leaves. * * * * * For almost thirty minutes you lay in a paralyzed stupor. Twenty-two thousand dollars? You cost Gary Chen twenty-two thousand dollars? You are so fucking dead, and you believe that literally, because whatever Dwayne just said, you're pretty goddamned sure Chen won't be able to stop himself from crossing the line between beating you ninety-nine percent to death and all the way there. Not over twenty-two thousand dollars. You need a miracle; luckily, you've got something magical on your side. Against the possibility of Gary Chen breaking into Dane's house, you rip Dane's mask from your face; if Chen shows up, you can pretend to be Will Prescott, who is spending the night with Dane, who went off someplace 'cos he had the munchies and you have no idea where that is or when he'll get back. And though you doubt the new spell can help you through this crisis, you hurl yourself into finishing it. Not until four in the morning, when you hear the front door open and loudly close, do you put out the light and hide under the filthy sheets in Dane's messy bed. You clutch Dane's mask to your chest, listening intensely as footsteps stumble closer. But they don't stop at your door. Instead, they continue to the next bedroom. You breathe a sigh of relief, and put Dane's mask on. When you wake again, it's seven o'clock, and the alarm clock is shrieking at you. * * * * * "You couldn't have fucked yourself up more if you'd tried," Caleb yells at you. You both flinch from the rattling echoes his voice makes as it bounces off the furniture in the elementary school basement. "Are you suggesting I did try to fuck myself up?" you retort. "I just said you didn't!" He slaps at you in disgust. "I do you one good deed, saving you from Gordon Black, and this is the mess you make of it." "Yeah, it did start with that, didn't it?" you say, getting angry in your turn. "He could have slapped me around hard for a few minutes and that would have been all. But now I've got fucking drug dealers trying to—" "That wasn't my idea!" "But it was your idea that we pretend to be each other! That's where it all really started to go wrong!" "It started to go wrong when you bought that fucking book!" You both run out of breath at the same time. And though you're both very red in the face, you also realize that the screaming isn't doing any good. Caleb slumps against the desk where the book lays open, lays open to a page that will not turn loose, even though you've pressed five of those metal strips against it. "You know, we were going to turn Gordon loose today anyway," Caleb says quietly. "We could do that, and turn Dane loose too. Then they wouldn't be trying to kill you." No, Chen would just try to kill Dane. And although you'd rather be alive with a bad conscience than dead with a clear one, the two choices are in such close balance that you can't bring yourself to throw Dane between you and Chen. So you shake your head. "I'd give Chen his shit before I'd do that," you say. "And why don't you do that?" Caleb asks. "Pretend you hid it somewhere else and forgot?" "Because he'll think I tried stealing it, then panicked when the shit hit the fan." Caleb takes the stash from the desk, opening the broken briefcase and staring at its contents. "Twenty-two thousand dollars, huh," he says. "Man, what I could do with twenty-two thousand dollars. If only we knew how to sell it." He shakes his head. "Well, come on," he sighs. "You gotta hide out here anyway, and we might as well try to be productive." * * * * * But productivity doesn't come easily. You are both feeling demoralized and frustrated, because no matter how you try to translate the spell, it looks like you've done it right; and although you've copied the sigil out three times now, nothing happens when you try executing it. So you try doing it all again, with you copying out the sigil while Caleb carves up some new runes. But you're interrupted by a phone call before you can finish your end of the job: Dane's mom needs a ride. And that's only the start of the afternoon for you. She drags you over to some woman's house—you're supposed to know who she is, but obviously you don't—and spend the next few hours helping the two women clean out a storeroom. Dane's mom, when she isn't stoned, turns out to be extremely perky and cheerful, so that against your expectations you actually enjoy the work; and neither of them insist on making you talk, so you're able to escape just by obeying orders, asking necessary questions, and listening for Dane's name. But it's almost four before you're finished, and can drive Dane's mom back home. She asks what you want for supper, but you tell her you've got other plans. "Is it a date," she asks in a mischievous tone. "Are you seeing a little girl?" You only mutter in embarrassment. She laughs. "You look just like your dad did when I knew him in high school." Since you've no idea what happened to Dane's dad, you say nothing to this, but smile tightly. She laughs again at what probably looks like mortification. "If you don't kiss, I won't ask you to tell," is her parting shot when you drop her off at the trailer. Once she's inside, you call Caleb, for her teasing has reminded you that someone has a date tonight. "You still on for your date with Eva?" you ask. "Date?" he asks blankly. "Oh, shit!" "Yeah, you got a date, the one I set you up on, fucker. Are you going? Seven o'clock, her place." "Yeesh. Maybe I can call her, tell her something came up." You nearly explode from the car. "You're not seriously going to cancel a date with Eva Garner, are you?" "I wouldn't know how to act with her!" "You knew how to act with my cousin." "That's different. I wasn't really into her so I could relax." Actually, this is going more or less the way you'd hoped: "You want me to cover for you? I need a place to hide anyway, since I've got Chen out looking for me." He says nothing for a minute. "Yeah, that would work," he says glumly. "Meet me at the clubhouse around six?" * * * * * So that's what you do: Caleb leaves his car, along with his mask and his very nicest clothes and what little money he could scrounge up; he departs with Dane's car. You search the basement for a little more money; you find none. But you do find another mask. After peering at the image, you recognize it: Chelsea Cooper. Then an awful, wonderful idea hits you: She's the one who got you into this mess originally. Maybe you could trap her in Dane's mask to take the punishment? * To get Chelsea mixed up in it: "Don't Mind Me" * To leave things no worse than they are now: "A Date with Lots of Talk About Dating" |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
