It might have been a tire, but it wasn’t the right color. Did rubber turn gray when submerged? Trash, maybe. From my vantage point, it looked far too solid for that.
A sob broke free of my chest in a frozen burst of air. I bit my lip to keep another one from following it. The item certainly wasn’t a fish. No scales. I curled my hands into fists and then uncurled them. I didn’t have time to be squeamish or scared. The strange shape certainly could have been human.
Sam?
Or the demented lady with green teeth?
I sucked in a deep breath, wincing as the cold air filled my lungs, and I stretched out my hand. The rubbery mass floated out of my reach, but I had made up my mind and wasn’t about to let it go without knowing what, or who, was floating underwater.
I stretched out farther, setting one hand down in the shallow weeds for balance. The tips of my fingers burned with cold as the sludge of half-frozen water squished in between them.
My shaking hand drew near the object once again. Close enough so I could feel the extreme cold radiating off of it. I reached out farther. Any more, and I’d be completely in the pond rather than on the edges of the bank.
The object had no give to it when my fingers finally made contact. I pushed at it first. If the covering was skin, it held no elasticity of living tissue. I chewed at the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out, not that it mattered. No one was anywhere around to hear me scream. A thought I wished I’d had two minutes ago.
I poked harder. Nothing. When I trailed my fingers down, trying to find the edge, I cringed. Was I going to try and tow this thing out of the water? Without really wanting to, I found what I was looking for. The line where it became clear. I’d found the palm of a hand.
Nope. No.
I was done. I’d get my phone. Call this in. Let the police drag this body out. Wait with my parents to find out if this was Sam. What the heck was I doing? I shook my head and drew back my arm.
The hand in the water flipped over and grabbed onto my retreating wrist with long, curved fingernails.
My heart didn’t beat. I didn’t take a breath. I didn’t scream. I didn’t move. I was literally frozen as I stared at this appendage now latched onto me as if it were claiming me as a prize. Hadn’t I been about to do the same? Only I was going to pull it free of the water. I had the distinct feeling this thing was going to do the opposite.
A sharp tug.
I jerked my arm back with a yelp. Hard enough to wrench my shoulder. Surprisingly, the hand released me, and I scrambled on hands and knees out of the water.
The gray fingers curled and straightened as if searching for me again. It reached out in my direction and glided through the water, growing closer and closer. I stayed on my knees, paralyzed, watching, unable to look away.
First, the hand became an arm. Then two. Finally, a head crested the water with stringy black hair hanging in its face. Fog came off the water in dense rolls, shrouding the sticks and the far bank of the pond. A wall of white enclosed around me until there was nothing but me and the thing coming for me.
She looked just like she had in my dream or vision or whatever that had been. The skin so white, the hair black, and I was willing to bet those teeth were green. The most terrifying color palette.
I wanted to scream. My mouth wouldn’t open. My legs wouldn’t stand and run. I was as frozen as the water. What was wrong with me?
The creature crawled toward me. A long dress dragged on the ground, covering its bent frame. High collared and old-fashioned. Very old-fashioned. Quaker style, once black but long since washed out to be as pale as her skin.
She shook her hair. The wet, stringy locks split into a deep V below her nose. I could make out her cheeks and lips, but her eyes were obscured. Then she smiled at me. Her blue lips pulled back in a leering grin revealing those green teeth.
“Do you have my brother?” My voice was low and gravelly. My anger broke whatever spell she had on me.
Her disgusting smile, stained with algae and weeds, grew wider.
“Give him back.” I lunged forward.
She hissed and shot back to the safety of her rotten pond. Water closed in around her. Her black hair resembled a spidery halo.
“Give Sam back to us.” I climbed to my feet and charged into the pond. She wasn’t getting away from me. Somehow, she’d lured my brother out here, and she was keeping him captive. I refused to believe he’d become a frozen creature like her.
The water stung my feet and calves as it swirled up to my knees. The slush had become thick and hard to wade through. But I didn’t give up.
The woman continued her retreat into deeper water. If I could get a handful of her hair, maybe I could drag her back to the surface. She teased me with a ghastly grin, daring me to come after her.
With each step, I surged deeper into the pond. The water lapped and pulled at my hips. Completely soaked, I realized too late there was an undercurrent. I’d thought the pond was stagnant, and the only movement came from the breeze creating small waves on the surface.
I’d been wrong.
A strong pull sucked at my ankles and knees. The cold began to sap my strength. And still, she progressed farther and farther away from me.
I heard loud splashes behind me and was tempted to turn and look, but I wasn’t ready to give up. If I looked away, I knew I’d lose the last glimpse of black hair.
“Hey!”
I heard the voice, but it wasn’t until someone’s arms wrapped around me that I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Let me go. I have to catch her.” I struggled against whoever was holding me. The grip was so tight I couldn’t break free. Instead, I was towed back to the water’s edge while all evidence of black tendrils of hair faded from my sight completely.
“Her who? There’s no one out here but you,” said a very male voice.
“She was right there.” I twisted out of his grip, but he grabbed my arm and spun me around. I was face to face with a tall boy. His dark blond hair was swept back behind a face full of concern. Big blue eyes stared at me.
“There’s no one here,” he repeated. “Other than you trying to drown yourself in my freezing pond.”
“Yours?”
“Yes, mine. I’m Foster Grimm. You’re on Grimm Road.” He rolled his eyes, and his voice carried the distinct edge that told me I should already know who he was. I’d heard some rumors but nothing that was important right this instant.
He had both of my hands in a tight grip and was leading me toward dry ground. The boy took measured steps backward with an easy grace that spoke of a lot of time spent in the water. The pull of the current didn’t seem to bother him at all.
“I know where I am,” I snapped.
The look in his eyes said he didn’t believe me.
“Did you see her?” I demanded and twisted back, trying to catch the last glimpse of the tattered, gray woman.
“There’s no one here but you and me,” he said in a gentle, calming voice. “You must be freezing.”
“Me?” I whipped around to look at him. “You don’t even have a coat.”
He didn’t. Only a long-sleeve T-shirt and sweats.
“I was out for a run and saw you splashing around in an icy pond. I don’t want responsibility for a death on my first day home. Are you suicidal? ’Cause there are much easier ways than drowning.” He turned and climbed out of the pond. His running shoes squished water with each step.
“I am not suicidal.” The cold started to sink in. My teeth chattered, and I couldn’t straighten my fingers.
“Then, can you tell me why you went charging into a freezing pond?” He dipped his head a little to stare right into my eyes. Concern and curiosity mixed in his blue gaze.
I glanced back across the water.
“Didn’t you see her?” I asked, incredulous.
“See her?” he echoed. “Who?”
I ripped my left hand free and pointed to the last spot I’d seen Greenteeth. Of course, now there
was nothing, and I appeared to be a complete lunatic.
“No one,” he said again. “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe the cold is playing tricks on your mind.”
“I’m fine. She was a gh . . .” I stopped before I got the whole word out. In truth, I didn’t know what she was.
“What? A ghost?” Foster sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe you hit your head? Why don’t you come back to the house with me? I can get you some dry clothes, and we’ll call someone to come get you.”
I shook my head, starting to remember the rumors I’d heard. He’d been gone the whole time I’d lived in Blaylock Bay, but I knew who Foster Grimm was. I wasn’t about to go home with him even if I were going into hyperthermia. The guy’s reputation preceded him. He liked girls. Lots of them.
“My car is over there,” I said with a nod in Sheldon’s direction. My shivers spread. My entire body shook from the cold.
“Good, that’ll be quicker.” He held out a hand as though he expected me to drop my keys into it.
“I can drive home.” I wasn’t sure the statement was true, but I certainly hadn’t planned to stay with him. I needed to go home, take a shower, and do some research. Surely, the internet could help me find out about this specter with the green teeth.
Foster raised an eyebrow and continued to hold his hand out. The Honda keys were on the passenger seat. He didn’t need to know that. I lifted my chin in defiance and tried to step around him. My knees wouldn’t cooperate; my joints had stiffened from the cold. I tipped forward. Before I could face-plant into the dirt, his warm hand caught me and pulled me close. The heat rolling off him made my head spin. I only needed a moment to leech a bit of it into my own body, so I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on his shoulder.
Quicker than I could protest, he swept an arm behind my knees and picked me up as if I weighed nothing. My eyes flew open. I knew I should say something, but my whole body seemed to be betraying me, again.
Foster was so warm.
“Not home twenty-four hours, and here I am, rescuing frozen damsels.” He chuckled. If I hadn’t been frozen, I would have told him exactly what I thought of damsels and his silly comments.
Foster set me on my feet next to Sheldon’s passenger door but kept an arm around me. Good thing he did. I would have fallen over.
“There are those keys,” he smiled at me while opening the door and scooping them up. “Here.” With a hand remaining on my waist, Foster helped me climb into the car.
I watched him sprint around to the driver’s side and hop in. He jammed the keys in the ignition and cranked up the heat.
“We’ll be at the house by the time this thing heats up.” He shook his head and slammed the shifter into drive. “What a dinosaur.”
I still couldn’t form words, but that fact apparently didn’t bother him because he kept talking.
Curling both legs up in the seat, I leaned over so my forehead rested on the dashboard. I didn’t feel the cold. Instead, I ached down to my bones, and if I didn’t know better, I’d have guessed my skin had been split wide open.
“Sorry, I should have asked your name before. I don’t think you’re in any shape to do much talking now,” he said.
I clamped my eyes shut and tried to think of the details I’d heard about Foster. All the girls at school gossiped about him even though he’d been gone for more than two years. I’d heard about nice cars, wild parties, and only minimal parental supervision. Basically, Foster was a character on a teenage soap opera.
The next second he rounded a curve in the road and pulled into the driveway of a smallish, very normal-looking two-story house. The view, though, was spectacular. It was on the ocean side of the road, opposite from the pond. I knew that from the second story I’d be able to see Blaylock Bay and Hoover Island which was home to our standard lighthouse. But I’d bet you could also see the pond on the other side of the house. The location was remarkable.
An attractive black Mercedes was parked in front of the house, the kind that appeared feline as if it would purr when driven down the street.
He hopped out and hurried around to help me out of the passenger door.
“I can w-w-walk.” My teeth chattered, and instead of lifting me this time, he simply held out a hand. Being in the car and out of the wind had helped bring back some of the feeling in my bones, but I couldn’t hide the wince of pain as I straightened my now tingling legs.
I begrudgingly accepted his hand and held onto his arm as he led me inside. The heat smacked me in the face. My knees nearly buckled, and Foster slipped an arm around my waist. We both kicked off our wet shoes in the hallway.
“Hannah, can you make some tea?” he hollered over my head. His voice held a hint of a shiver in it too. He asked if I could stand on my own for a moment. When I nodded, he disappeared and returned a few seconds later with large, fluffy towels. He wrapped one around my shoulders then threw a robe around me too.
“Come in here.” Foster led me into a huge room with two couches and a fireplace. The fire was already blazing. “Use the robe, and get out of those wet jeans,” he said with a twinkle in his sparkling blue eyes.
If I hadn’t been half-frozen, I might have blushed.
“I’m gonna get you some tea.” He smiled at me.
“Sophie,” I blurted out before he could disappear again.
“Sorry?” he wrinkled his brow.
“My name, it’s Sophie,” I said.
“Oh, good. Sophie. I like it. Sophie the ice princess.” He grinned. “Better yet. Sophie the popsicle.”
“Foster?”
An older lady with white hair pulled back into a severe bun stood at the entrance of the room.
“Hannah, this is Sophie. I was hoping you could make her some tea.” The corners of Foster’s eyes softened when he glanced up at the woman.
Mother, maybe? Although, he had addressed her by her first name. Another ridiculous Foster rumor put to rest. There was some sort of adult supervision.
“Go change,” she said in a clipped tone.
After he left, she studied me. I stared back. There was something about her. Something familiar like I’d met her before, but I couldn’t remember where. Maybe I’d seen her in town.
“Sophie.” She said my name with a reserved tone.
“Hi.” My teeth chattered.
“Here.” She took the robe away and held it up like a privacy screen. “Get out of those wet things.”
It was awkward, but I didn’t argue. I stripped off the jeans and T-shirt. Hannah wrapped me back up and helped situate me on the couch. The cushions were soft, and the fire crackled. A picture-perfect setting had I not nearly frozen to death chasing . . . a ghost?
I closed my eyes and sank down into the warmth of the blanket Hannah tucked around me. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, cold hands cupped my cheeks.
“Sophia Howell, you’d better wake up.”
Mom. Great.
“I’m awake, Mom,” I said with my eyes still closed.
“Where did you say you found her?” asked Dad.
Him too? I groaned. They’d already been watching me like a hawk. After this, an armed guard would be next.
“Out by the pond. I think Sophie had fallen in,” said Foster. Thankfully, he remained quiet about my ghostly ramblings.
“Mike, I told you to keep a better eye on her.” Mom’s voice sounded heavy with accusations.
“I have to admit I went through her phone to find your number,” said Foster.
That revelation got me to open my eyes. I glared at him. He shrugged in response.
Hannah stood beside Foster and frowned at me as if I had invaded their home. “You might want to take her to the doctor. She was extremely cold when Foster brought her here.”
“I used hot washcloths to bring some of her color back,” she added. “I put her in a pair of Foster’s old sweats.”
Stretching my legs out, I checked. Sure enough, I had on a pair of swe
ats. I groaned in silence. As if the whole drowning in their pond affair wasn’t bad enough, Foster’s mother, or whatever she was, had to dress me in his old clothes too. What a great story he could share back at school.
“I can’t thank you enough for calling us,” said Dad. He leaned over me. “Think you can walk, Kid?”
Oh, how I hated that nickname.
“I think so, Dad.”
“What were you doing out there?” asked Mom.
“Just sitting,” I said. “And then I fell. Like he said.”
I didn’t look over at Foster, but I would have to thank him later for not mentioning the mad ravings to my parents.
“Here.” Dad took my arm and helped me to stand. I tossed off the blanket. Yep, gray sweats with Blue Wing High emblazoned on the front. I sighed and felt my cheeks heat up. I could only hope no one noticed the blush.
“Please, take the blanket,” said Hannah. “You can give it back to Foster later.”
Mom draped it around my shoulders, and Dad sheltered me in the crook of his arm. Together, we slowly made our way out to Mom’s car. Once I was tucked into the passenger seat, I noticed Foster passing my keys and the bag of wet clothes to Dad.
“See you tomorrow, Popsicle,” said Foster before shutting my car door.
Chapter 5
As soon as we got home, Mom sent me straight to bed. I didn’t argue. I kept Foster’s blanket wrapped around me as I huddled in bed, pulling my quilt over me. Later, Mom brought me a bowl of soup. She didn’t say anything but sat on the edge of the bed, watching me eat.
“Sorry I worried you,” I said in between slurps. She shrugged but remained quiet. I felt terrible about worrying them, and her quiet acceptance made me feel even worse. I wished she’d yell, or cry, or ground me. That would have been her normal reaction after I’d scared the crap out of her. This sad, silent robo-mom was the worst.
That evening, I stayed in bed until I heard Mom and Dad go to their bedroom. Then, I kicked out of my fortress of blankets and padded down to see Gram.
The Curse of Jenny Greene Page 3
