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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Kooky Kapers"  You lurk in the bathroom until the bell rings again, then hotfoot it to your next class. You're edgy, and pay no attention to any studies until the bell sounds for lunch. That's when you rush to find Carson. He's at his locker, peering over the heads of the crowd as though trying to spot someone. "Oh, hey," he says in a distracted voice when you dash up. "You seen--?" "I wanna talk. Just you and me." You grab him by the elbow. "The fuck is--" But his words are lost as you tug him toward the door leading out behind the wings. You glance around, and spot an empty place near a corner. "Listen, I skipped class today and hid out in the bathroom, the one in B wing," you tell him when you've got him alone. "And while I was in there, something really weird and creepy happened." In a hurried and fragmented way you relate what you'd overheard. He has to ask you to repeat what you'd said, and after taking a deep breath, you give him a more coherent recital of the incident. "It wasn't Seth and Dane," you finish with a gasp. "So it wasn't Seth and Dane," he says slowly. "What are you saying?" "Remember Saturday? Guys who weren't acting like themselves? Dane and Seth and Kendra and--" You catch your breath as Carson's eyes widen: Maybe, against your own expectations, he is going to take you seriously. "It was like those two guys from Saturday had showed up, and it was them in the bathroom!" But instead of quietly consulting with you and questioning you for more details, he just groans. "Will-- Jesus! I told you I wasn't going to tell you any more scary stories--" "You don't have to! They acted one out, right in front of me! Well, in the next stall--" "You didn't see anything?" he asks. You shake your head. "So you really don't know what was going on. Maybe it wasn't even them." "That's what I'm saying! It wasn't them!" You clutch at the front of his shirt. "It was two guys who sounded like them--" "You were hearing things. It was two other guys. It was Javits and Lynch, or Lynch and Patterson, or--" "I know their voices, Carson! And Dane called Seth by name." "Voices can sound weird in the bathroom. Like, one time Paul comes into the bathroom, and when I heard his voice I coulda sworn it was Jessica Garner--" "I know what I heard!" you insist. "Seth Javits was letting Dane Matthias bully him around!" Carson's face twists up with pain and pity: Ioeger may be a prick, but he isn't cruel. "Alright, I can see you're really freaked out, Will--" "Damn right!" "But it's not doppelgangers. I mean, Jesus, listen to yourself!" "I told you about that book. And it's on the loose. Someone has it." "Who?" he asks wearily. "I don't know. I gave it to Walberg, but--" Your voice catches in your throat. You'd briefly forgotten about your upcoming meeting with Walberg. If he has it-- "Listen, Prescott," Carson says. "I'm going to take you seriously here, because you really are flipping out on me." He rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Let's assume you're right, that there are doppelgangers of Dane Matthias and Seth Javits running around." But he can't keep his lips from briefly twitching. "Let's just ask a simple question. What's the worst that could happen?" You blink, for you have no answer. So he answers for you: "They have themselves a little fun. Maybe fake-Javits gives Tilley an extra wedgie. Fake-Dane gets stoned with his friends. It's not like they can replace people." "How come?" you ask in alarm. The thought of doppelgangers replacing people hadn't actually occurred to you. "Because their parents and friends would notice. That's what always happens in these stories," he says sardonically. "You said they were acting out of character. So even if I take this seriously, these-- Oh, God. These doubles can only get up to mischief. They can't try anything worse without being caught." "But what if they do try? Or fuck things up for the real people?" "That actually might be fun to see," he says with a dry laugh. "Especially if it's Javits who gets fucked up. Am I right?" You just roll your eyes. "And one more thing, Prescott," he adds with a wry smile. "I don't think you've got anything to worry about." "What do you mean?" He pokes you in the shoulder. "Who the fuck would want to run around pretending to be you?" * * * * * Of course, you're still extremely jumpy, but Carson's skeptical words have given you a little perspective, and you're slightly ashamed for acting so worked up. For he's right: After listening to yourself babble, your fears just sound crazy. And if that tennis game on Saturday is the worst that can happen-- But what was going on in the bathroom? And you still have to see Walberg after school. And Dane--or someone who looks like him--will be there. * * * * * Walberg is straightening up the front of the room when you arrive. Dane is there, too; as he turns to look at you, his eyes light up and his mouth widens in a huge, mischievous grin. You shiver. Walberg sniffs when he sees you in the doorway. "You got your paper with you, Mr. Prescott," he asks. You show it to him. "You know why you got that grade, don't you?" You feel yourself flush. "I'd rather hear you explain it." "Don't be impertinent." Walberg gestures you over as he lowers his bulk behind his desk. "You were supposed to write about what you put in the time capsule." "I did." You hold out that paper. "I understood the assignment." He takes the paper from you, but his eyes are unreadable behind his glasses. "If you want to eavesdrop, Mr. Matthias, do it correctly and turn your desk around," he growls even as he continues to stare at you. "That's okay, Mr. Dubya," Dane says, and his laugh is a hiss. He drops his head to his desk, but continues to peer up merrily at you and the teacher. "You gave me a book about hydroelectric dams?" Walberg asks, sounding deeply unimpressed with your claim, with the book, and with you personally. "Yeah." You tilt your chin. "If you don't believe me, dig up the capsule again and take a look." Walberg snorts, but remains very still. You stare levelly back at him. You've never been good at bluffing in poker, but you're not bluffing now, which makes it easy to return his gaze. Walberg grunts, and with a small sigh opens a desk drawer and pulls out a manila folder. He studies its contents. "That's not what my notes say, Mr. Prescott." He drops the open folder onto his desk. "And I remember when you gave it to me." He jabs at the folder with a short, thick finger. You glance down: Prescott: Book in Latin, one entry says. "You must've gotten mixed up, Mr. Walberg," you say. "It's a book on hydroelectric dams in the capsule." "You're sure of that?" Walberg asks. You nod. He looks back at the folder, and traces down the list with his fingertip. You notice it stops next to Caleb's name. He gives you a sidelong glance. "Do you really want to go dig up the capsule, and show me?" "If that's what it takes to prove I'm telling the truth." You continue to stare at each other. In the silence, you can hear Dane softly laughing. "Well, I'll be damned, Mr. Prescott," Walberg says. "I guess you did do the assignment. Showed a lot of independent initiative, too," he adds, and puts his tongue in his cheek. He takes a deep breath, and with a red pen strikes out the "F" and replaces it with an "A." "You, uh, changed your mind about putting that other book in there?" "I don't know what you mean, Mr. Walberg," you say as you take your paper back. You don't want to admit to having dug up the capsule to make good on your altered paper. "You want to spend some time in here with Mr. Matthias?" Walberg asks in a hard voice. "I don't like it when people go snooping through my desk." "I didn't--!" Your eyes narrow. "What makes you think I went snooping through your desk?" He stares at you long and hard before replying. "Alright then, I guess the matter's closed. All's well that ends well. At least for you." You leave, feeling more than a little baffled (though relieved) and shut the door behind you. You wait a bit, then carefully creep back to look in through the window in the door. Dane is standing in front of Walberg's desk with an idiotic grin on his face. The teacher's expression, as usual, is unreadable. A hand touches your shoulder. "Jesus!" you exclaim, and leap almost a foot in the air. It's Caleb, and he rears back in a surprise equal to your own. "Jesus yourself!" He puffs hard, then nods at the door. "You talk to Walberg yet?" "I just got through," you say. Your heart is still pounding, both from the talk and from Caleb's surprise appearance; you've not seen him since first period. "What are you still doing here?" "Checking up on you. What did he say?" "He changed it to an A." You show him your paper. "I told him I'd dig up the capsule to prove I wrote about the right book." "Ha! I told you it was worth-- Did he say anything about my paper?" "No, but I could tell he had his suspicions about it. Oh, and thank you so much for helping me swap out books," you add sarcastically. "Whatever," he snorts back. He glances at the door again. "But why were you spying on him?" Carson clearly doesn't believe what you'd told him about the incident in the bathroom. Would Caleb? Next: "A Sense of Cindy" |
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