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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "People Who Won't Lay Down ..."  "I knew you were dumb, Matthias, but I didn't know you had a fucking death wish," you hiss. The guy under your fist and knee is bright-eyed with anger. "You call the cops on me, who'm I gonna roll over on? Your cousin, that's who. Think Dwayne'll be happy with that?" You push your fist deeper into his throat. "You want me tellin' him what you just said about the heat? Whaddaya think he'll do to you? You know, when you fucked up last Friday, he told me I could put you in the hospital. Those were his exact words, you know." Yeah, Chen will know you're speaking the truth on that. "He said, 'You can put Dane in ICU if it makes you feel better, just don't send him anyplace worse than that.' He knows you're a fuck-up, but he likes you. He won't like you so much if he hears you were using the word 'cops' around me." You let it sink in, that you remember what Dwayne said to him last Friday, and by extension that you know everything else that he knows, and that you know how to act like him, too. Let him get used to the idea that this Gary Chen is a perfect clone of the old Gary Chen. Then you ask him, "What were you doing to my ride, Matthias? What were you doing under there?" It already seems to be having an effect. "Nothing," he mumbles. "What did you think you were doin'?" "Nothing." "I don't believe you. I think you still need some hurtin' from last Friday." You put some weight on his breastbone, until his face is almost black. Then you relent enough for him to draw a breath. "I was looking for--" He doesn't finish. "You think there's something under my chassis? What do you think is there? Why do you think something is there?" He visibly struggles over what to say. "I heard Dwayne mention it," he says. "That you keep something under there." "Bullshit. Dwayne didn't tell you nothing." "I swear, he said you keep some stuff under the chassis!" You'd bet it's confusion, rather than pain, that is provoking this confession; you'd like to think that, psychologically, Chen is more resilient to pressure, since you're relying an awful lot on his native steel to carry out stuff like-- Well, like this interrogation. Instead, it sounds like he's going to avoid accusing you with something like the truth: that he was looking for his stash because he's really Gary Chen and you're an (even more evil) impostor. And that's good enough for now, so you let him up. "You stay outta my shit, Matthias," you say, and shove him hard as he's just gotten to some wobbly feet. "I catch you fuckin' around with any of my--" You stop, as though just remembering something, and press close on him. "You been cultivatin' a interest in faggy Persian books?" He pales, and shakes his head. "Uh huh. Just stay outta my shit and outta my way until I need you again." * * * * * Which hopefully is never. You think about calling Dwayne to tell him that his cousin was trying to break into that strongbox, and to tell him about his cousin's threats to involve the police. But you're pretty sure your own threats have taken care of the latter, and you don't want to bother Dwayne anymore than you need to: it makes you look weak. But in three weeks, when it's time to place your order for next month's goods, you should tell Dwayne about today's adventure. Then you and he can cut "Dane" out of the system. But will you be playing Gary Chen for that long? It depends on what other spells you find in the grimoire. You got time to worry about that later. For now, you've got to get the stash to a safe place. After Matthias is away, you check the state of the strongbox, and find that the lock is badly scratched--he was apparently trying to pick it--but still operable. So you take off from school, heading over to the old elementary school, there to deposit the sorted weed and cash that Mendoza and Thomason had given you for their supplies. You keep out one set of six eighths to replace the one Matthias stole--it kills you to have lost it, but you were an idiot to have put it where he could find it--and two more eighths to return to Mendoza. Then it's back to the school. You've managed to miss most of the one blow-off class in your schedule--Fundamentals of Marketing--and use the extra time to find a new hiding book in the library. You'll have to find a better spot later, since Matthias knows about the old system, but for now you stick it in a book on butterflies of Africa. You let the rest of the day slide without trying to peddle any more packets, though you get Mendoza's two back to him, and make a note in sixth period to talk to Perry Small on the morrow. You also send a text to Gardinhire: "Let's talk about tip money," so he'll know you're ready for another exchange at the country club this evening. By three-forty you're on your way to the Panda House Chinese Buffet, whose owners--Chen's aunt and uncle--comp Chen a takeout meal three times a week from the lunch leftovers. You're wolfing these down and checking notes to yourself on the phone when the door to the school basement opens and Caleb comes in. He stops on the topmost step. "My favorite thing," he snorts. "Coming in here and finding Gary Chen waiting for me." "It's Gary Chen's favorite thing too, lookin' up see your sad little douchey--" You bite down on the rest of the insult, and stare at him critically. He's so mealy-mouthed and awkward, and so fucking white. Is there any way he could be that would make Chen like him, or at least tolerate him? You try to think of someone Chen likes and respects. There are lots of assholes he respects, at least to the extent he wouldn't piss them off if he could help it: mostly that's the jocks, whether bully boys like Black and Patterson and Lynch, or just the strong ones, like Cameron Huber and Laurent Delacroix. There are also those whose company he enjoys--like Adrian Semple and "Maize" Tsosie--that he doesn't respect. But both? About the only two names that come close to fulfilling both criteria are David Kirkham and Justin Roth. Fuckin' hard to tell Caleb to be more like them: strong, silent, and cool-headed. "I had a fuckin' day and a half," you say more mildly, trying to put Gary into a small box where he can't get out. "How was yours?" You brought an extra container--Aunt Sue is always pushing leftovers on her nephew--and you shove it toward him. "Normal," he says, slowly sinking into a chair and sniffing at the food. "I'm not sure I wanna know what counts as normal for Gary Chen. Or for Will Prescott these days." He discards the chopsticks for a plastic spork, and shoots you a dirty look at your (unintentional) snicker. "So, are we millionaires yet?" "No, we're out three-twenty, in fact, which just about wipes out what I hoped to skim from this fucker." You tell him about Matthias. "At least I've just about got him convinced he's going crazy and is just imagining that he used to be Gary Chen." "This isn't a permanent change, is it, Will?" Caleb asks uneasily. "Because if it isn't, you're going to have to let him out to be himself again eventually." "We'll see what the magic book has to say about that," you mumble through a mouth full of spicy pork. "Speaking of which--" You tap at your phone's keypad, then push it toward him. "That's the list of stuff for the next spell, at least that's how the internet translates it. Fuck, why couldn't the book have been written in Chinese instead of Latin?" "Because then we'd never have gotten this far?" "Oh, fuck me," you gasp, and sit up straight. "Can you guess what I just thought of?" "If I could, I'm sure I'd regret it." "We should slap one of these brain things onto Mr. Leavey. He's the Latin expert." Caleb groans. "But it's perfect, man! Stick his brain inside yours, or mine, and then we won't have to guess at these fucking translations!" "I don't want Leavey's personality inside mine," Caleb exclaims. "I think the fucker likes little girls, and I don't mean 'little' as in 'Yumi Saito' little." Hearing the name is like having a scab ripped away. "Don't fucking mention--" you snarl. "You know what my mom-- Gary's mom, what she said and did last year when she saw Lin Pol courtside, the first time Lin went out as a cheerleader? She asked him how come he wasn't dating her. Jesus, bad enough being there with his mom, but then she drags him around to see Lin afterward, and basically shoves the two of them at each other, telling them they should go out on a date. And Lin, fucking cunt, she's nice about it, all dimples, and says yes. But the next day she tells Gary--who actually kind of got his hopes up--that he can tell his mom anything except that they had a good time on the date, because she'd dig her own ovaries out with a spoon before going out with him." "Jesus." "Yeah, tell me." "I mean, Jesus, you're actually sympathizing with Chen." "Look at where I'm sitting," you retort, and lean back to dump the last of the cold goop into your mouth. "But we should definitely do that brain thing on Leavey." Then, while Caleb is still bitching about the idea, an even better idea comes to you. "Gardinhire. Pack me up one of those things for Gardinhire." "He doesn't know Latin." "No, but he knows who he's distributing his excess ganja to. He's not smokin' it himself, and he ain't got that many friends who can be smokin' that much of it without it hurting their grades. He's definitely dealing it somewhere. And if we find out where--" "We're not going into the drug trade, Will," says Caleb. Next: "Unwilling Exchanges" |
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