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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Bonding with Bhodi"  "Stop it," you tell Bhodi as hold him. "I wasn't better at being you. I just gave less of a fuck about it." He keeps rigid in your arms. "I knew what you wanted, I knew what you'd like to do. Like with Paulina, and with Andrew. But I was also me, and ... I dunno, maybe that just gave me the tiniest little extra push to do the stuff you wanted to do. You'd have done it, with just that little extra push." You feel the pulse in your throat when you add, "I could gave that to you." "Give me what?" Bhodi asks. His voice is muffled, and you can feel him tense up a little. You release him. "That little bit of me." You sigh when he just blinks at you. "Look, what was it like when I was pretending to be you?" you ask. "So there was this guy walking around, looking like he was Bhodi Weaver. Like you walk around acting like Bhodi Weaver. And he talked and acted like Bhodi Weaver, just like you talk and think like him." You can't keep a corner of your mouth from twitching into a smile, though Bhodi remains grave. "But he had the brain of Will Prescott inside him, too." You punch him in the arm. "So what if we put the brain of Will Prescott inside you? Then you'd be just like that guy. The brains of Bhodi Weaver and Will Prescott, inside the body of Bhodi Weaver. You'd have all the stuff I had while I was pretending to be you." You shrug. "Which means you could—" "Oh, God!" He turns away and hangs his head. For a moment you think you've badly miscalculated. But then he looks over his shoulder at you. "You could do that?" "Sure! I'm not proud of my brain. It gets me into a lot of trouble, and there's a lot of people, like your friend Andy, who'd be a lot better—" "I mean, there's a way you could do it?" "We could do it tonight," you tell him. "In thirty minutes you could be walking around with my brain inside your head." "But how?" "The book shows a way of doing it, and I've got the stuff already made up. I made it up for us to use on Dwayne Macauly, but we can use it on you and I can make up some more. It's just a thing that copies brains and mind, okay? Not the whole body. Then you put it on, and you can remember everything that person knew, get their personality, too." You shrug. "I'm wearing one right now. Marianne Matthias." "Right," Bhodi says. "I heard that you were ..." He squints at you. "Uh huh. We could do the same thing with you." But you don't press him. Just because you've offered to let him get inside your brain doesn't mean you're keen to let him. You see the advantages of it. Letting him see what you're like, that you're not a bad guy, might help him forgive you more easily. But there's a lot of junk up in your attic that you'd just as soon he not explore. You catch him giving you a couple of sidelong looks, and when his shoulders slump you figure he's decided not to take you up on the offer. But then he surprises you by saying, "Okay. I'll try it out. You know. For a day or something." You grin despite yourself. "Sure, if that's how long you can stand me for." * * * * * "So what did you talk about?" Caleb asks after Bhodi has gone off with a copy of yourself inside his skull, and it's just the two of you inside the basement. "Oh, stuff," you reply. You haven't told him what you gave Bhodi. "What did you talk to him about with him?" "I told him not to be mad at you, that you were a moron but there wasn't any harm in you." "Thanks. What did he say?" "Didn't he tell you? You two seem pretty tight all of a sudden." You make a face and decline to dignify the remark with an answer. "So, I don't have to be back until eleven," Caleb says. "Want me to keep you company?" "Please. For a start, you can tell me why you made a new mask instead of polishing the last one over at Lindsay's." "Because maybe I don't want to look at Lindsay's fat face?" Caleb snorts and sits on the edge of the table atop which you are sprawled. "Because I still want to get one of those masks onto someone so I can have some fun? I told Bhodi we'd make a new one so that we'd have a spare in case we need to copy another person, but I know what I want it for. You know," he adds in a lower voice, even though it's just the two of you in the basement and no one can hear you. "If you've nothing else to do, we can make up a brain band to go with it. Could be useful if—" He breaks off as you get to your feet and shuffle over to the hiding place. From it you pull the second polished mask and four brain bands. They clatter on the table top as you spread them before Caleb. His eyes bulge. "Fuck! When did you—?" "I didn't have anything else to do, okay?" "So what were you planning to do with them?" "I dunno. I just wanted to be prepared." He grins. "Boo-yah! So, you want to make up some more masks?" "You can," you grunt. "I'm just ready for the day to be over." So you sit in the corner with Caleb's cell phone, amusing yourself in a desultory way with YouTube and another nonsense while he makes six more masks—two of which he polishes—for he had bought a lot of materials. "Yeah, I figure your new friends aren't going to be content with the ones they already got," he says, "so we might as have too many to go around as not enough." His reference confuses you for a moment. And even after you've figured it out, you play it cagey. "I don't know what you mean," you tell him. He smiles faintly at you. "Is it supposed to be a secret from me? Too bad. Joe told me you made up some masks for him and his friends." "Oh, that. Yeah. Did he say something about who was going to be running things after we get Evie back?" "Are we really going to do that?" The question shocks you, but only for a moment, because it's exactly the kind of challenge Caleb would make. "Sure. It's better than having Lindsay and her friends royally pissed at me." "I just can't picture you going out there to get him back, Will," Caleb says. "Especially not as that potheaded MILF." That's another shock, and a more long-lasting one. "You think Marianne Matthias is a MILF?" "If you cleaned her up. Use your imagination, Prescott," he continues in a pitying tone, "if you don't got enough testosterone to see it." You flip him off. * * * * * You're wakened by Joe the next morning with your breakfast. You'll say this for life in the basement. Though it's easy to go stir-crazy, it's nice being able to wake late on school days. Especially Fridays, which this is. "Any chance you could let me out of here? Aren't we all friends again?" you ask Joe as you wolf down a donut. Instead of bolting back up to go to school, Joe is grinning idiotically at you from the stairs as he watches you eat. "Where would you go?" he asks, and that grin stays plastered in place on the front of his round, Charlie Brown-like head. "How would you get there?" "I dunno. Thanks for keeping me company," you add, "but don't you have to get to school?" "I got time. It's only seven-thirty." "Jesus, you could let me sleep in." You scowl as he giggles. "You got a feather up your ass or something?" He only giggles again. It's as you're sipping on some still-scalding coffee that it hits you, and at the realization you almost drop the cup. "You're not Joe!" you shout. He squeals. "Of course I am!" "No, you're fucking not! You got those masks sealed up, didn't you? And I hung out enough with Joe yesterday, I know he doesn't— Fuck you, Grant!" He squeals like an excited pig and turns bright red. "Guess I gotta work on it a little, huh?" "If you don't want the girls figuring it out, yeah! But except for the personality, you look just like him." "You should make up some of those brain bands for us," he says, "so it'll be perfect." You grunt. You've got some made up, but you don't want to waste any. "Was it fun being that guy's mom?" he asks. "Joe said you were totally high." "That wore off. It was fun while it lasted, but I'm not looking forward to putting on the whole disguise." "So you're going through with that?" Him too? "I told Lindsay I would. Don't you want Evie back?" "No, what I mean is, you're gonna pretend to be her, make the trip?" "Someone has to." "She's hot, you know. That guy's mom." He shifts from foot to foot. "You know, I could do it. We wouldn't have to tell Lindsay and them. And while I'm out of town, you could be me." * To continue: "The Return of Marianne Matthias" |
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