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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Adrift and Seasick"  Drifting. That's how you got into this state. But the realization is not enough to get you up off your back. Maybe something will turn up, you tell yourself. Maybe if you just avoid Teresa as much as possible, she'll get the idea that there's nothing between you, without you having to be a dick about it by saying anything. Still, it's a depressed and depressive evening that you spend, alone, in your bedroom, with some video games. * * * * * Caleb wakes you early the next morning with a text asking when you'll be up for going out to check on the spell. You take a shower first, then text back to tell him you're on your way to get him. If you wait too long, there's a chance you might wind up with Teresa for company when you go out. "So, you do anything last night?" you ask Caleb when you pick him. There seems nothing else to talk about. "Hung out with Keith," he says. "Do anything with the masks?" You feel his eyes upon you, but you concentrate on the road. "Yeah," he says. "We put on our girls, went out to a dance club. A couple of guys tried picking us up." "You're kidding." "No, it was fun. We got flirty with the guys, I made out hard with this one dude—" "No way!" "I even let him touch my button, but that was as far as I let him go." Your jaw hangs open as your head swivel between the road and Caleb. He smiles smugly back at you. "You're bullshitting me," you finally declare. He laughs. "Well, mostly. One guy tried touching my breasts when we were all squeezed up in a booth together, but I elbowed him in the ribs and told him not to be stupid. Still, it was fun." He throws an arm out across the back of the truck bench, and relaxes more deeply into his seat. "You take this stuff too seriously, Will." You squirm in your seat, and mutter something about not being caught "macking with a dude." "Well, that's what was so fun about it," Caleb says. "They were trying to get with Keith and me 'cos they thought we were a couple of girls. Every time one of 'em gave me a look— You know, all—" He lifts his chin and peers down his nose at you from under heavy-lidded eyes. It's a "smoky" look, but on him it just looks ludicrous. "—I just about killed myself trying not to giggle. Only problem is, none of them were, like, footballers or on the wrestling team." "Why's that a problem?" "'Cos that would've made it funnier. Can you imagine one of those guys trying to hit on me or Keith 'cos they thought we were tail? Oh, fuck me." He covers his face with one hand as mirth overwhelms him. "I almost think it would be worth letting one of them pork me, just so I could imagine their face if they ever found out the truth!" To that, all you can say is, "Jesus!" "But all we got ahold of were some dinks from Eastman. Not even seniors." "And Teresa didn't go out with you?" That gets you a careful, sidelong look, and the reply, "Nah, I don't know what she did. I never heard from her." * * * * * Out at the old barn, you do as you have been doing all week: waiting in the truck with the motor running while Caleb runs in to check. This morning though he is inside longer than usual, and there's a bright but tense look on his face when he comes running out. "I think it's done, Will," he gasps when he wrenches the passenger-side door open. "Come take a look." You shut the truck down, and leap out the cab. It's the first time you've seen the thing since helping to set it up, and the sight of it shocks you a little. The berm of earth is gone, replaced by what appears to be a giant, petrified lawn cigar. "Yeah, I can't get it to light again," Caleb says as he pressed his cigarette lighter to the thing in various spots. "That's gotta mean it's done, right?" "That's what the spell said, isn't it?" Without waiting for a reply, you shove past Caleb to grasp the edge of the still-open book, which is peeping out from under the thing. You try to get it out without touching what it has made, but your hand can't help brushing against it. It is cold and stone-like, and dusts the side of your hand with something like chalk powder. The closer inspection you gain also reveals that it is not a single, compact mass. A great rent running up the middle of the thing has almost torn it in half, and two more rents on either side higher up have caused either side to almost fall off. You wonder if the damage can be repaired, or if it means something went wrong with the spell. Together, you and Caleb use your phones to translate the spell again, and confirm that the spell is complete once the thing no longer lights. It has to be "polished," though, and it dismays you both to think of the job that will be. But a little rubbing at it with the corners of your shirts seems to be enough, as that removes a layer of dust and leaves a gleaming surface that looks "polished" enough. The page, meanwhile, has turned loose, and eagerly the two of you pore over the reverse side to learn what it is you have made. It's Caleb who comes up with the answer. "It's a golem," he declares. "A living statue." You're standing with your back to it, and you can't stop from turning halfway around to stare with sudden fear at the thing. Now that Caleb has mentioned the word "statue," you suddenly see the thing in a new way. That rent up the middle has given the thing legs, and the partial gaps at the side are like arms. Even the lumpy blob at the end now looks like a misshapen head. Caleb punches you in the shoulder. "After you put a mask on it," he says. He points to a passage in the book, and sucks in his lip. "I bet—I bet you anything!—when you put a mask on it, it turns into the person copied in the mask. And it's gotta be alive, because"—his finger darts further down the paragraph—"it says that the thing has got to obey its maker." "So who's its maker?" you ask, and can't stop from casting another nervous glance back at the thing. It really would be dreadful, you feel, if the thing suddenly sat up. "You and me and Keith and Teresa?" "I guess. We'd have to test it out." You give him a quick look. "Are we going to test it out?" His eyebrows elevate. "Aren't we?" "We don't have a mask here." "So we go back and get one. You can go back and get one," he adds with a note of contempt in his voice, "since it seems like you're too scared to stay here with it by yourself." You flush. "I'm not scared!" "Well, it's your truck anyway, you'd have to drive. I'm gonna stay here," he says, and rubs his hands together, "and stand guard over it." "What if those dipshits, or someone else, comes out here?" "That's how come I'm gonna stay behind and stand guard!" * * * * * You race back down to Acheson to the old elementary school. Caleb and Keith got inside to get the stuff they wore to the dance club last night—Keith must have picked the lock again, you decide—but they didn't bring it back, so that leaves only a couple of masks to choose from for the experiment. Not that there is much of a choice as far as you're concerned. You grab "Mickey," including her wardrobe. Caleb is standing just inside the barn doorway when you come tearing back up. His shoulders are hunched thoughtfully. "If this works the way I think it's gonna work, Will," he says quietly when you join him, "we're gonna have a girl we can have some fun with." You feel yourself pale. "What kind of fun?" "The fuck you think what kind of fun?" he retorts. "If she's 'alive' and has to do what we say— Well, what would you do with a living, breathing girl who is willing and able?" You almost fall off your feet. Though you had plenty of time on the drive over and back to think about it, you had felt a kind of "brainlock" that stopped you from going very far down the highway of speculations. "At the very least," Caleb continues as he peers inside the plastic bag you brought back from the school, "we could take her out someplace. Like it was a date with a real girl?" A rush of blood to the brain leaves you tottering. "Well, let's find out what we've gone and done," Caleb concludes as he pulls the mask from the bag and squats next to the golem. He peers at the mask. "Mickey, huh?" He smirks at you. "I won a large bet with myself that that's who you'd be bringing back." Next: "Making Mickey" |
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