The Book of Masks (Vol. 2)

Nobody Expects the Tennis Confession

Previously: "Nobody Expects the Tennis Inquisition" 

by Masktrix

Are you a wizard? Perhaps Acuna’s Catholicism really is so out there she thinks witchcraft is real. But there’s something about the desperation in the coach’s voice that you can’t ignore. You resist the urge to laugh and stay silent.

The coach swallows so hard you can see her throat bob as she babbles her words. “Will, please. There are lives depending on this, I want you to be straight with me.”

“You aren’t being straight with me,” you push back. Somehow, the power dynamic has shifted. If Acuna had said souls, you’d still be convinced this was some religious thing. But lives? You decide to take a risk, leaning over from your seat to snatch the book. The coach makes a grab for it too, but somehow you’re faster. Impossible; everyone’s seen her return the aces served up by the senior year without effort. Coach Acuna seems to have lost her sharp reactions and motor. You flip the book open.

And multiple pages roll up like ready waves, just waiting to be turned. Holy shit, the pages have unstuck. They’re covered in the same Latin scrawl, accompanied by strange, twisting shapes and sigils. “The fuck…” you manage to say in surprise.

“I need to know what the second spell says!” The coach suddenly blurts, losing all pretence of calm. You look up at her.

“What second spell? What are you talking about?”

Acuna is too scared, too full of energy, too afraid of you holding the book, to notice the surprise in your voice. Tears are welling in her eyes as she collapses to her knees. “The second spell! I made the mask just as it says, fixed it with the paste, but I can’t get it off! It won’t come off! You’ve got to tell me what the spell says! I’ve been trying for freakin’ hours!”

This is insane. You pull the book to your chest, away from the despairing Latina athlete who is now blubbing with wretched self-pity, chest collapsed against the table.

“Maybe you’re the one who should start at the beginning,” you say. And then, as if the wall of a dam has been pierced, the persona of a coach vanishes utterly and a frightened, frenzied teen emerges – along with a rapid, stream of consciousness.

“Fine! Freakin’ fine! OK. My name is Shelly Nolan. I was given the book a week ago. You know Ian Cowdray? Well, his cousin Rich gave it to him, and Ian knows I like magic, occult stuff, and he gave it to me. So of course I tried it! I unlocked the book with my blood, as I have to prick my thumb for my blood glucose anyway. That got me to the first spell, the mask. It took me a while to translate it, even though I take Latin, but the chemistry was super-easy once I did. So, anyway, I used the sigil in the book, followed the recipe and POW! I made a mask, just like it said. Then I started polishing the mask, which took forever, and it started turning blue, and I was like WOW WOW WOW magic is freakin’ real! Magic is real!”

At last the coach pauses for breath. Somehow, like a vocal shepherd tone, the pace of her explanation just got quicker and shriller… even as her words became crazier. The worst part is that you believe her – why else would she mention Rich Austin? You guess he was the one who dug up the time capsule with Joe Thomason, probably with Jamie Rennerhoff in tow.

“I took the mask to the coach yesterday after school, because she’s cool. And she said it was like a carnival mask and put it on to joke around. And then, suddenly, the mask vanished, and she collapsed! Like, out on the floor, freakin’ out cold! I didn’t know what to do. I was about to phone 911 when the mask reappeared! Like, it had vanished, and then it was back on her face! Then the coach woke up, didn’t remember anything, and I pretended nothing had happened. But secretly I was like ‘MAGIC IS COMPLETELY REAL AND THIS IS THE GREATEST THING EVER!’”

You sit back and continue to listen to crazy town, wishing she would slow down.

“Well, by then the next page could be opened. The next spell. And it was about sealing a mask, which was super-easy because it’s just chemistry, y’know? So, I sealed the mask last night, using this paste stuff I made. So today, before class, I thought I’d see what happened if I put it on. So I went to the gym bathroom, put on the mask and, like, blanked out. And when I woke up… I looked like this! I mean, I WAS COACH ACUNA. So I rushed to her office, because I know she has a gym bag there with spare clothes, put ‘em on and cosplayed as Coach Acuna. And everyone believed I was her! It was amazing! Like, freakin’ incredible!”

You furrow your brow. “So, let me get this straight. You are a girl called Shelly. And you used this book, this book in my hand, to create a mask that has turned you into the double of Coach Acuna.”

“Yeah! Awesome, right? But…” the tears begin to form again in Acuna’s eyes, already darkened and puffy from sobbing. “I can’t work out the rest of the freakin’ spell! I can’t take this mask off. You’ve got to tell me how! I asked Mr Leavey earlier about the Latin, but he wasn’t much help. He even tried to speak to me in Spanish thinking I’m Acuna, and don’t take it as an elective, so I just said ‘Si, si!’ and was, like, yeet! And for the rest of the day I’ve been hiding in a bathroom, trying to get this thing off me. I messaged Ian and told him what was going on. At first he thought it was a prank, but I told him stuff only we know and share. And he said OK, he’d cut class and help me out.”

You’re beginning to feel dizzy with exposition. “OK, so Ian Cowdray knows about this. Who else?”

“Just him! I swear! And I made Ian swear too! So he’s been keeping an eye on Acuna, the real Acuna, so I know where she is and there aren’t two Coach Acunas in the same place at once. And at lunch, while I was hiding in the toilet again, Ian asked Rich where he got the book from, and he said it came from you, and that he’d seen you try and bury it. Acuna’s in her office doing paperwork this period, so I figured this that was my chance. I ran over here and asked the secretary to summon you out of class.”

It’s the craziest story you’ve ever heard in your life and you believe every word of it. And now Acuna, ridiculously, is bouncing on her legs in eagerness.

“So come on, Will! I’m sorry I used your magic book, but you’ve got to undo this! I can’t be stuck looking like my P.E. teacher! How am I going to go home? What am I going to tell my parents? Or what if someone catches me like this, how am I going to explain it? What if the real coach Acuna finds me? C’mon. You’re a wizard. I know magic’s freakin’ real, just, freakin’ do something. Help.”

You hold up your hand, begging for the rant to end. You can’t take another rapid-fire monologue.

“All right! All right, I’ll help. Calm down. Just let me have a look in the book.”

You open the book up to the second spell, not entirely sure if you can keep your promise of assistance. Acuna’s – Shelly’s – finger dabs at a paragraph, leaving a teardrop on the page.

“That’s the bit about taking the mask off. It says to say those magic words, then to pull, I think. But I’m not doing it right. I’ve been trying for hours.”
You trace your finger along the words. This can’t be real, can it? You look at the Latin and try your best to summon up the translation. “OK,” you say to yourself. “This talks about pulling away from the head. Forehead, I think. And this is some kind of incan…”

“Incantation, right! But I said the words and held my head, you’ve got to do a specific grip, like this, and pulled and pulled and it hasn’t worked! I’ve been trying for hours.” Tears are in full stream now, turning Acuna’s mocha skin to a glistening sparkle with their tracks.

“Three times,” you mutter. Acuna’s despairing eyes snap to focus on you, Shelly’s despairing soul behind them.

“What?”

You point at the line. “This word begins with tri. I think that means you’ve got to say the phrase three times.”

The tennis coach’s frame practically shoves you aside as she scrambles to look at the phrase again. “I know what it means. Oh my God! I’m AP Latin, how did I miss that!” The coach flicks her dark hair back in self-conscious shock, the Shelly persona forgetting for brief moment she’s wearing the long face of an adult P.E. teacher. “What? I know Latin’s a junior class, I tested for it and got in. I like that stuff.”

You ignore the multiple personality and press on. You shoot a glance at the book and its words, then reach for Acuna’s head. “Calm down, Shelly, just let me try to fix this. It says you hold here, and say this…”

Your hands grip along the coach’s hairline as Shelly demonstrated. Then you recite the incantation three times and yank with all your might, wondering what the hell you’re doing.

And, in a moment that shatters your reality, the mask comes off.

In one blink of an eye you’re pulling at a tennis coach’s face, the next you’re holding a simple mask and a stream of bright orange hair is flying around you as a young girl with pale, pasty white skin falls back and hits the ground hard. You vaguely recognize this newcomer from passing her in the corridor, though you never knew her name. Now you’ll never forget it.

You stare in amazement at Shelly Nolan, strewn unconscious on the floor in front of you, dressed in a baggy coaching uniform. In your hand is a magical mask that turns its wearer into Coach Acuna. And at your side is a very real occult spellbook that seems hellbent on returning to your possession.

Holy shit, you think. What the hell are you going to do?

Next: "The Reluctant Master" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 2)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 2)"