This choice: Secretly make a new mask • Go Back...Chapter #11Secretly make a new mask by: Seuzz   There isn't a lot of stuff left over for making another mask, but there is enough, and it's tricky because you have only a flashlight to work with in the dark. But you succeed in making another raw mask. You take it home with you, to polish up in your spare time.
The next day you and Caleb meet early at the clubhouse and start unlocking the next spell: You make the sigil in the middle of the conference table, lay out some magic mix and a hank of your own hair, and pile it over with fuel-soaked graveyard dirt. There's a fraught moment when you toss the lighted match into the mess. But the resulting low-level flame gives off no heat, and after piling up furniture to obscure the spooky sight, you and Caleb feel no compunction about leaving it untended. According to the spell, it will take several days for the "impurities" to burn off, and you'll have to monitor the flames and relight them if they go out, but it seems like a blessedly low-maintenance spell.
The two of you don't talk a whole lot while you're working: Neither of you seems to want to raise the subject of Dylan. When you lock up, you tell Caleb that he doesn't need to make any special trips over to the clubhouse during the week, and that you'll keep an eye on the thing in the basement. He nods distractedly.
On Sunday afternoon you go to the clubhouse to check on the fire and find that it's gone out. You relight it, and then sit down with the mask and laptop you've brought, to polish the one while entertaining yourself with a movie on the other. About halfway through you scramble to hide the mask when the handle to the door jostles and Caleb comes in.
"I thought I'd find you here," he says. "I called and your mom said you were out. Anything up?"
"Just keeping an eye on the ... the dingus," you reply. "Robert was being a pest." He nods and tosses you an object. It's the Eva mask. "Oh, so Dylan returned it. He say anything about his weekend?"
"Enough to make me want to fumigate the fucking thing."
You quickly drop the mask. "So I guess he had a good time."
"The way he tells it, he was the life of about five different frat house parties, all going at more or less the same time." His lips peel back in disgust. "I think I don't want to put it on anymore."
"You never put it on to start with, and you still owe me a fuck in it, now that I think about it."
He pales. "You wouldn't."
You wave off his concern and then sigh. "We might as well let him just have it. It's ruined for us."
"We'll have to make a new one," he says. He glances around. "Say, didn't we have some left over stuff?"
You hesitate; you don't really want to tell Caleb about your "insurance" plan for his cousin. "Not as much as it seemed like."
"I'll go pick up some supplies. Don't worry, I'll do the labor."
He seems preoccupied and doesn't look you in the eye. "Is something wrong, dude?" you ask.
It's his turn to hesitate. "I know you don't like my cousin—"
"It's not that I don't like him. I just don't like him knowing so much."
"It's not that big a deal," Caleb protests. "He doesn't have any reason to tell anyone anything."
"The more people know, the more chance of a fuck up."
"You wanted to tell Keith."
"I suggested we tell Keith."
"And I suggested we tell Dylan. We finally decided to go with him."
He's got you there. "Well, I guess after he found out, I changed my mind about wanting a third wheel."
"It's because you don't like him."
"Caleb, it's not—"
He waves you off. "Never mind. You don't have to like him. But we have to work with him. And try to remember that he is my cousin."
It's a bad end to the conversation, but at least you're not yelling at each other when you part. But talk between you at school the next week is a little cooler than normal, and when you remind Caleb that he you'll keep on eye on things in the clubhouse, he thanks you for it and doesn't show up there after school.
* * * * *
By Thursday morning the thing seems to be ready—it's no longer catching fire, which according to the spell means that it's almost done. At this point, though, you have to "polish" it, with makes you groan. You've just gotten finished with the mask, and the product of this spell—a dark, slab-like hunk of solid clay—is many times larger. You tell Caleb at school, and he says he'll be over to help, which makes you feel grateful. You're less grateful when you pull at the clubhouse after school to find that Caleb has brought Dylan along. "I figured it would go three times as fast with three of us," he explains.
It makes sense, but you're still not pleased. And then you discover that it takes just a little rubbing—hardly more than a buff to get loose dust off the surface—and the thing is ready. "Wish all my housework was this easy," Dylan sniffs.
You lay the book on the thing, and the next page turns. The three of you crowd around the book and the laptop, trying to figure out the rest of the spell. Dylan speaks first.
"It's a golem!" he exclaims.
"What?"
"A living statue. Well, not living yet. You put one of your masks on that thing, and it will come to life."
You all stare at each other. "Come to life? As the person in the mask?" Caleb asks.
"Probably," says Dylan. "Who else would it be?"
"Do we really want a fourth person in on this," you murmur to Caleb, but it's too late. Dylan has snatched up the nearby Eva mask, and before you can stop him he drops it onto the thing.
The mask sinks into it and almost an instant later the golem morphs into an exact replica of Eva Garner.
"Oh God, I am so wasted," she moans after sitting up. She clutches her head and lays back down again. "Would one of you assholes turn the sun off?"
"I guess she thinks she's still at the Crows," Dylan sniggered. "They were a lot of assholes. Tasty ones, but still ..."
You suppress your gag reflex. "What do we do with her? We can't have two Eva Garners running around."
"Golems are supposed to be servants," Dylan says in a condescending tone, like you're an especially thick grade school urchin. "She'll do whatever we want, I'm sure."
"Eva, stand up," you order her roughly. She gives you a dirty look, but gets up off the ground. You hesitate before giving the next obvious order, but it's the best kind of test. "Kiss me."
She rolls her eyes but hobbles forward. You'd meant to ask for some tongue, but she only scrunches her lips together and gives you a quick, dry peck on the cheek.
Still, it seems to prove Dylan's point. You and Caleb exchange wide-eyed glances; Dylan looks very smug. "You know what this means, don't you?" he says with a nasty smile. "You've got your own private whore."
Frankly, after what Dylan put her through, you're not sure you want this Eva golem as your sex toy, but you see his point. "If we could get Jessica," Caleb whispers.
"Chelsea. Gloria," you add.
"Grab yourself the whole cheerleader squad," Dylan says dismissively, but even his eyes gleam.
"Oh, thank you God," Caleb exults, and falls to his knees in an ecstatic reaction.
"Well, don't start sending up your hosannas just yet," Dylan says. He picks up the book and examines it closely, then reaches up to the golem's face, says the word of removal, and rips it away. The thing turns back into a slab. "You'll need masks of those girls."
"We can do that," Caleb says.
"Oh, so you can make these things after all," Dylan says with gleeful malice. "You swore up and down to me you only had the one."
Caleb's face falls. He blushes.
"Well, I forgive you," Dylan says. "In fact, I'll place an order with you." He looks between the two of you. "I'm looking for a roommate. Sell me this thing—" he indicates the naked golem "—and a blank mask."
Again, you and Caleb exchange glances. "How much," you ask cautiously.
"Dude!" Caleb explodes. "You can't sell our--!"
"How much," you repeat.
Dylan looks at you shrewdly. "Two hundred up front, one hundred on delivery, and let's say fifty for the mask."
"Six hundred, two hundred of it up front, for the lot," you reply.
"I haven't got—" He stops himself and thinks a little more while staring holes into you. "Three hundred up front for golem and mask, and ... a thousand for a second golem and mask."
Caleb lets out a quick whoop, then covers his mouth. "Why so much more for the second?" you ask.
"Because it will take me time to get that kind of money together," he snaps.
You could give him the golem and a blank mask right now. But your suspicions are aroused, and you desperately want to know what he is up to.
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