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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Relics of Saratoga Falls"  Round and round you go for a couple of days, trying to settle on whether to ask Joe to go with you out to Blackwell's. You are frightened enough of the professor that you don't want to be alone with him, and figure that a bold and strapping "boyfriend" will discourage the professor from trying anything nasty. On the other hand, Joe's presence would probably discourage you from trying to use the mask on the professor. And then what's the point of even going out there? But you finally settle on taking the chance: Joe's presence could daunt Blackwell, and yet you might still be able to get Blackwell alone there. It's Wednesday afternoon, though, before you finally decide, so you end up springing the request on Joe at the last minute. And you're eating at McDonalds when you do. * * * * * "You got ketchup on the corner of your lip," Joe says. He gently wipes the side of your mouth with a French fry, then grins as he pops it into his mouth. "When I run out of fries, I guess I'll just have to start kissing it off." "I'm not that messy!" you protes, but you can't stop yourself from blushing a little. "I wish you would be." He laughs. It wasn't your idea to come to McDonalds—it's a little too expensive for Melody's budget—but Joe suggested it, and just as quickly volunteered to pay for it, so here you are. Just because you asked me out in the middle of the week, he'd said when you picked him up, don't think I'm not going to ask you out Friday night. And then he asked you out Friday night, and you accepted. You are talking lightly and casually now about things you might do on that date—take in a movie, or a nightclub, or go dancing, or just stay in—when you sense a presence at your table, and look up to find that half-a-dozen burly guys in Eastman letterman jackets have materialized at your table. "Joker!" their leader rumbles down at Joe, and pounds him on the shoulder. "What are you doing here? And who with?" He casts a glinting eye down at you. In fact, all of them—and it gives you a chill to notice this—are giving you quick but searching looks. "Eating with a girl," Joe says. His grin is easy, but there's an edge in his voice. "What about you? Got any girls with you, or's it gonna be handjobs all around?" "Oooh!" The guys all chortle, and their leader mimes punching Joe in the side of the head. "You must be horny as hell if you can't wait for Friday night and Jessica!" he says. "Who says I'm seeing Jessica Friday night?" "I thought you did," one of the jockstraps says. "I said I was thinking about it." "I think Jessica's thinks it's happening." "Then I think Jessica's got another think coming." More hoots, and the leader turns to give you a very direct stare. You can see the skepticism in his glance, and you feel yourself ripple with resentment. "This is Melody," Joe says. "She goes to the college," he adds with some slight emphasis. "What, are you getting tutored?" "I'm gettin' learned good. Her and me hooked up Saturday night. And here we are again 'cos I can't stop myself being bothered by her. And I'm seeing her Friday night too." His grin widens as he holds the other's eye. You feel yourself wanting to sink into the ground as every one of them turns to stare down at you. You duck your head and hunch your shoulders against the weight of their collective gaze. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow," the lead jockstrap says, and claps Joe hard on the back of his shoulder. He turns and pushes the others back and away. You look up at Joe from under a lowered brow, but he is watching the others as they shuffle noisily back into the front section of the restaurant. His expression is stiff, and every trace of friendliness has vanished from it. His eyes, when they lock onto yours, are hard and flinty. Until he smiles inside of a very broad wince, and ducks his own head. "I'm sorry about that," he murmurs, and reaches across the table to hover his hand over the fist that you have made. "Those are some guys from the local high school, I hang out with them sometimes, playing basketball and stuff. Met 'em at the start of the semester. I, uh, I'm only a year older than them, so—" He shrugs. "So sometimes it's like I'm still in high school myself." You return his apologetic smile with a stiff one of your own. "It's alright," you say. But then, because you are overwhelmed by the sharper parts of Melody's personality, you ask, "So who's 'Jessica'?" Joe flinches. "She's a girl at the high school. I've been out with her a couple of times, because, well—" Now he hunches his shoulders and hangs his head. "Because I'm stupid and sometimes can't control myself, even though I should know better." He looks up at you, with eyes wet with worry. "She's a real bubble-brain, and after last Saturday with you, I am suddenly really tired of her." He bites his lower lip shyly. "Okay, I forgive you," you say, though you're not sure that you do. "But you have to do me a favor." When he doesn't answer, you say, "You have to come with me tonight when I go in to work." * * * * * So that's how you spring it on him, and Joe happily volunteers to "distract you and get you fired." But he also wants to know why you "lied" to him about not having a job. You explain that you didn't lie, that it's not really "work," it's just a once-a-week "work-study" arrangement. Just don't be goofy around the professor, you request. Can I be Donald? he replies in a pitch-perfect imitation of the cartoon duck. It's a little before eight when you arrive at Blackwell's villa, and find a strange vehicle parked out front: a luxury car of gleaming black with tinted windows. Joe doesn't resist the temptation to run both an admiring glance and an admiring hand over the hood as you pass it. Blackwell is slow to answer your knock, and he looks surprised and discomfited by your appearance. "Ah, Miss Weiss," he stammers, but it's Joe who he's giving a very fishy-eyed glance to. (He has his arm draped casually over your shoulder.) "I'm afraid I, er, neglected to contact you about, erm, cancelling tonight's session. I, em, I have a visitor." Joe answers for you. "We'll stay out of your way," he says. "It's just library work, from what Melody says. Right?" He smooches you on the cheek. "I am afraid it will not be possible," Blackwell coldly replies. "I, erm, will have to go out shortly. Will be going out. And it will not be worth anyone's time—" "Could I use your restroom, at least?" Joe says. "I had a Coke at supper, and it's run right through me." Blackwell doesn't answer right away, but only stares at Joe balefully. Then he says, "I'm afraid not. Good night, Miss Weiss," he says over Joe's protests, and pushes the door shut in your face. "Well," Joe says brightly. "I guess that's the rest of your night free." He squeezes you about the shoulders and puts his face close to yours. "So what do you want to do now?" But except for knowing what you don't want to do—which is clearly what he does want to do—you are at a loss. "I guess we can go hang out some place," you say. "Tell you what," Joe says. He turns you around and steers you down the steps. "You go wait for me in the car. I gotta take care of a little business." "What business?" "What I told your professor," he says as he drops his arm from you and hops away. "I gotta take a whiz, so I'm gonna go find a corner—" "Joe! You can't p-pee in a man's—!" "Sure I can!" Joe is already trotting sideways to the corner of the villa. "And if he didn't want me to, he'd'a let me use the facilities like I asked!" "Joe!" "Wait for me in the car!" And then he's gone. You shake your head in disbelief, and stand where you are, waiting for him to come back. A college freshman, you murmur to yourself. But he acts more like he's a high school freshman! And then one thought will follow on another as you wait, and your memory goes back to that scene in the McDonalds. See you tomorrow, those guys said as they were leaving, as though they expected to see Joe at the high school. Is he really a college student? you wonder. You also can't forget the way they looked at you, as though they couldn't believe that he would be on a date with someone who looks like you. (Well, like Melody.) It's a doubt you've had before, but now you've got a little extra reason to wonder if he's being completely honest with you. On the other hand, you did pick him up at a house in the "student ghetto" portion of town, next to the university. Though that's hardly proof that he really is a college student. But if he isn't, then what is he? He's too young to be anything but a college student, or a high school student. And why should you be suspicious of a high school student, if that's what he is? Maybe you're just being paranoid. But you've got a mask with you, and if you put it on him, you could find out what's going on with him. And then you could put it on the golem, and then you'd have that "strapping boyfriend" you wanted, and without having to fuss with the real Joe. That's all for now. |
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