The Book of Masks (Abridged)

Caleb as Conspirator

Previously in "Dead Ends"  You picked up an old book in the used bookstore that promised to show how to make magical disguises. But supplies cost money, and after copying your face into a magical mask, you have decided to share your secret with a friend in return for a modest investment ...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"EIGHTY PERCENT."

"What?! Don't fuck with me!"

"Dude, it's worth ninety percent of your paycheck to keep me from going in on Monday, totally fucking things up, and getting your ass fired."

You pale. "You wouldn't!"

"Hey, I was the one who wanted the job."

You stare at Caleb, who, thanks to the mask, is sporting both your face and a most infuriatingly smug expression. "Yeah, and that's why I'm giving you this chance to take that job," you say through gritted teeth. "It's why I'm offering you ... forty percent?"

"Dude, I should get a hundred percent, since I'd be doing all the goddamned work for you. The money is the only thing in it for me."

"But you wanted the job and you'd have it!" you exclaim, trying to turn his earlier statement against him.

"I wanted the job for the money and the connections. I can't get the connections if I'm being Will Fuck Up Prescott. That leaves the money as the only attraction."

You suppress the urge to throttle him; choking yourself would be too weird. You slump onto one of the many dusty tables that dot the elementary school basement, and sigh. "I brought you in on this ... really cool secret. That's gotta be worth something."

He eyes you shrewdly. "You want some of the work money, you do some of the work. We'll keep a schedule. At the end of each pay period we'll split the pot in proportion to how much we worked."

"I still deserve some kind of bonus for bringing you in," you insist. "I bought the book, I bought the shit that went into that mask you're wearing, I shoveled that pile of shit back there--" You jerk your head at the pile of sandbags in the corner.

"Yeah, what is that for?" he asks.

"Ya got me. Freakin' book tells you what to do with it, but not what it does."

"Okay, what you say is a fair point. For an equal partnership I'll chip in as much as you've already spent. How much would that be?"

"A little more than two hundred."

"I got forty to my name at the moment."

This time you do fly at him. "The whole reason I showed you this shit was so you could kick in some shit to pay for the shit that I need to shit shit use to shit finish the next shit spell!"

He just grins. "And how much do you need to finish it?"

"At least two hundred!"

He shrugs. "Well, payday would be in a few weeks. It might take two pay days to raise it, what with taxes and all, but--"

"I don't want to wait that long! If I could've waited that long we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

"I can't help it that you've the patience of a squirrel." He checks himself out in the nearby mirror, and brushes his hair over with one of your own characteristic gestures. "I can understand it better, but I can't fix it."

You glower. "You know, it occurs to me that you are taking all this magic stuff pretty calmly."

"Eh, you already did all the freaking out. I'm just using your head to keep my own cool. Oh, speaking of which, you finished that other mind band, right? What did you do with it?"

"Don't you remember, Mr. I Know Everything You Know?"

"The mask only remembers up to the moment you put it on," he retorts, then frowns. "That could be a problem."

"Nothing's happened since I've made it that will make a difference to the job. Anyway, I just have that band sitting around in my-- Oh yeah." You snap your finger. "I was thinking maybe we could use the band on someone at Salopek. Maybe they've got a bunch of the chemicals we need, and if we knew where they were, you could pick up some."

"So, have you done that? Used it on someone?"

"I haven't connected with anyone who works at Salopek yet," you tell him with grinding patience.

He walks over and grabs your shoulders. "And where does our dad work?" he asks in an identically weary tone.

Something catches in your throat. "You're not serious."

"Why am I the only one using your brain?"

* * * * *

You hunch in front of your father. It's the next day, Saturday afternoon, and he's taking his afternoon siesta on the couch. His sleep is a bit deeper than normal because he's got a mind band inside him at the moment ...

Your attention is caught by a movement in the corner of your eye. Your younger brother frowns down at you from the entryway. "What are you doing? If you wake him up--"

"I'm not doing anything. Push off."

He walks over to crouch down next to you. "What's up?" He peers at your father.

You shove him. "I said go away!"

He pushes you back. "He's my dad too!"

"If you wake him up--!"

"Then be quiet!" he shouts.

You grab him and wrestle him away. He howls, and the two of you roll on the floor, tearing at each others' shirts. "Mom!" he yells.

"Shut up!" You work your way on top of him and clamp your hand over his mouth. He glares up at you, and then his eyes go wide. A firm hand grabs you by the shoulder and hauls you up. Your dad's icy eyes bore into yours.

"What the hell is going on!" he roars.

"He started it!" Robert says.

"I wasn't doing anything!" you protest.

"Then both of you can do it outside!" He puts his hands on his hips.

Robert stomps away, but you hurl yourself into the easy chair and snatch up your school book. "I was studying," you mutter.

He just snorts and starts to turn away. As he does so, something catches his eye, and he bends down to pick a strip of metal up from the floor. You nearly choke, but he just sets it on the coffee table, and with a quiet oath leaves the room. You grab the mind band and shove it into your pocket.

* * * * *

"Awesome!" says Caleb when you meet him at his house later, holding the mind band aloft. "Lemme see it."

You pull it back from his outstretched hand. "Who says you're going to put it on?"

"I'll be the one working at Salopek."

"He's my dad."

He shrugs. "Whatever. So put it on, see if they've got the stuff we need."

You make a rude noise with your lips, look down at it ... and freeze.

Ewww. Do you really want to get inside your dad's head? The squick factor, clearly, was the reason you hadn't even thought to use him as an entry point. You lick your lips. Maybe you'd feel more comfortable if Caleb were the one to put it on.