Babysitting Nightmares_The Shadow Hand

by Kat Shepherd

  “They told me he’s been waking up at night a lot, and he seems hungrier than usual. And what was the word his mom used? Ornery. But I didn’t expect I would be babysitting a piranha!”

  Kyle sat in the empty playpen, looking out the window at the green trees beyond the yard. A shaft of sunlight lit up the playpen, bathing the baby in a soft glow, and he reached up, playing with the motes of dust that floated in the golden beam.

  Rebecca watched the baby thoughtfully. “He seems okay now,” she said. Rebecca bent over the playpen to check on him, and Kyle giggled and nipped at her hand. She heard his teeth snap together. Startled, she stumbled backward, losing her balance. She fell hard on her rear end. Kyle’s snicker erupted into a shrieking laugh that curdled the air like spoiled milk.

  Clio rushed over. “Rebecca! Are you hurt?”

  Rebecca grimaced and shook her head. “I don’t think so.” The two girls looked back at Kyle, who clapped with spiteful delight.

  As he let out another peal of laughter, he opened his mouth wide. Gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight were two new even rows of white, pointed teeth.

  CHAPTER

  7

  REBECCA AND CLIO stared at each other, dumbstruck. “What “are those?” Rebecca said, her voice sounding higher than intended.

  “He didn’t have them when I got here this afternoon,” Clio said. “I swear he didn’t.”

  “But how could they have grown in so fast? And why are they so pointy? That’s not what baby teeth look like!”

  “That’s not what they feel like, either,” Clio said.

  Kyle sat calmly now, his eyes once again fixated on the greenery beyond the window.

  “Kyle should only have about three or four teeth by now,” Rebecca said. “And they shouldn’t be pointy like this. He did already have a few teeth before, but they were just normal baby teeth.”

  She knelt down next to the playpen and gently reached out to stroke Kyle’s fuzzy head. He ignored her but didn’t move away.

  “Something’s been off since the night of that big storm,” Rebecca said quietly.

  Clio picked up a block and offered it hesitantly to the baby, who took it in his hand for a moment before letting it fall to the floor of the playpen. “That big storm that no one else remembers seeing or hearing…,” Clio replied. “Including his parents.”

  “It was a real storm!” Rebecca said fiercely. “Why would I make that up?”

  “I’m not arguing with you,” Clio answered. She eyed Kyle, who was watching them carefully, and dropped her voice. “But what if that freak storm is the reason for what’s going on with Kyle?”

  Clio and Rebecca looked at each other.

  “I think it’s time for your nap, little one,” Rebecca said. She picked up Kyle cautiously and walked him upstairs to his room.

  While she waited for him to settle, Rebecca walked to the window and idly flipped the lock back and forth, watching the curved pin slide out of the loop and then slide back in again. Soon she heard the baby’s slow, even breathing. Something sounded different about it, and she realized she didn’t hear his familiar snuffle. She ran her hand over the windowsill, where she could still see the ghost of a pale green handprint with reaching, narrow fingers.

  “That’s where you found the moss, right?” Clio whispered.

  “Yeah, and look. It’s still here. At least I think it is. It’s hard to see it now.”

  Clio came closer and peered at the windowsill. “It does look like a handprint,” she replied, “only it’s smaller than a person’s hand, and the fingers are way longer.”

  “Yeah, and it’s exactly the shape of the other handprints that were all over the room when I was here on Wednesday. Mr. Dunmore scrubbed them all off, though.” Rebecca shifted. “I don’t think he really believed me that they were handprints. I didn’t even try to tell him about the shadow I thought I saw.” Rebecca quickly explained what she had seen the last time she was at the Dunmores’.

  Clio shivered and walked toward the door. “What was the shadow like?”

  Rebecca followed. “I don’t know. Small. Kind of … monkey-shaped, I guess? I only saw it for a second. I tried to tell myself it was just my imagination.” She paused, looking back at the quiet room. “But it probably wasn’t, was it?”

  Clio took a deep breath and shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

  “What should we do?” Rebecca asked softly.

  Clio closed the door. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, we’re going to need some help.”

  CHAPTER

  8

  LATER THAT EVENING, Rebecca and Clio found themselves sitting in twin bamboo chairs across from Kawanna at the large, ancient wooden desk in the office at the back of the costume shop. Rebecca was still thinking about the uneasy car ride home with Mr. Dunmore. When Rebecca had tried to tell Mr. Dunmore about Kyle’s teeth, he hadn’t said a word in response; it was almost as if he hadn’t heard her.

  The office was a windowless room, but it felt surprisingly warm and welcoming. The red-orange walls glowed like a sunset, reflected across the mirrors and framed movie posters dotting the walls. A sagging, peacock-blue velvet love seat nestled invitingly against the wall behind them, and a worn leather armchair and antique coffee table completed the cozy little seating area.

  Kawanna’s desk filled the rest of the room. Its massive mahogany legs were carved to look like lions, and the Tiffany lamp on its surface was shaped like a twisted, snarling dragon. It contrasted sharply with the sleek, silver laptop perched precariously near the edge. Rebecca shifted in her chair and focused her attention on the woman across the table.

  Sitting in her gilded desk chair and framed by the overstuffed bookshelf behind her, Clio’s aunt looked regal in her gold-and-purple head wrap and black cashmere poncho. Rebecca eyed her nervously. What if she doesn’t believe us? Then she noticed Kawanna’s nails: bright purple with a pattern of black bats. She has to believe us.

  Rebecca poured out her story, with Clio chiming in. Kawanna’s eyes widened with each new detail, and she gasped in surprise when Clio held up her injured hand.

  When both girls had finally run out of breath, Kawanna turned to the bookshelf behind her, her voice full of wonder. “How can that be?” She rummaged through a teetering stack on one of the shelves.

  “I know! There has to be an explanation, right?” Rebecca asked. “Something … you know, normal?”

  Kawanna ran her fingers along the spines of the books, searching. “I don’t know, honey. I’ve been reading ghost stories my whole life, but I never really believed they were true.” She gestured at the shelf behind her. “But Clio and I have been sorting through some of these old books we found, and almost all of them are about unexplained events that happened right here in Piper. Events that sound a lot like what’s happening with Kyle.”

  “What do you mean?” Rebecca asked.

  “I mean that the lady who lived here before me also collected ghost stories, only I’m starting to think that the stories she collected may have been real.”

  “It’s not just ghosts,” Clio interjected. “There are all kinds of creatures in her books: vampires, shape-shifters, goblins, and stuff we don’t even have a name for.”

  “Lusus naturae,” Kawanna added. “Creatures that are neither living nor dead. Monstrous hybrids that are shunned even in the Spirit World.” She selected a few books from the shelf and piled them into a neat stack in the center of her desk.

  “Lusus what? What are you talking about?” Rebecca turned from Clio to Kawanna, looking for some sign that the two were just teasing her, but both faces were deadly serious.

  Kawanna slid the stack of books across the desk. “Think of all those boogeyman tales and movies where something goes after the children. Maybe there’s a reason. What if they were real?”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” Rebecca demanded. “Because if it is, it’s not funny. My parents are doctors, remember? I know all those old ghost legends and s
pooky stories were made up before people had real explanations for why stuff happened.”

  Kawanna sat back in her chair and tented her fingers. “You’re probably right,” she said. “There has to be a more logical explanation. But what is it?”

  Rebecca looked down, struggling to come up with something that made sense. She noticed a splotch of dried batter on her jeans and picked at it, remembering that just a few hours ago she had been rolling out icing in a busy, cheerful kitchen. It felt like weeks ago now. “I don’t have one,” she finally admitted.

  “Neither do I,” Clio said, “but we do know that there’s something wrong with Kyle and his parents aren’t able to see it.” She looked from her aunt to Rebecca. “And if we’re right, Kyle could be in real danger.”

  CHAPTER

  9

  EARLY THE NEXT morning, Rebecca pedaled back to Kawanna’s shop, her eyelids puffy and heavy. She had been awake half the night going over the events in her mind again and again, and when she did finally nod off, her sleep was fitful and plagued with nightmares. Snatches of images stayed with her even after she woke: Kyle trapped in a cage of sharp, pointed teeth. Her friends covered in moss, their mouths stuffed with bright red leaves. Rebecca standing powerless as they each disappeared, one by one. Shortly before dawn she pulled the old lady’s books out of her backpack and opened them with a heavy sense of dread.

  Once the sun had risen, Rebecca picked up her phone and sent a group text.

  Clio’s reply came almost immediately.

  A second later, a text came in from Tanya.

  Tanya and Clio woke up early, even on weekends, so Rebecca wasn’t surprised that they had texted back so quickly. But a half hour later, Rebecca still hadn’t heard back from Maggie. This wasn’t unusual, since Maggie would sleep until noon if she had the chance. But Rebecca couldn’t help wondering if maybe there was some other reason Maggie hadn’t texted back.

  Rebecca and Maggie had always butted heads. Back in second grade they had gotten into a screaming match in Maggie’s front yard, and the whole neighborhood came out to see what was wrong. Within hours they were in Maggie’s basement, setting up a hospital for their stuffed animals. Arguing was normal for them.

  But lately, things with Maggie had been different. This wouldn’t be the first time that Maggie hadn’t returned Rebecca’s texts, and they hardly ever hung out just the two of them anymore. Rebecca knew she could count on Tanya: good old, reliable Tanya who always got along with everybody. And Clio hadn’t thought twice about helping yesterday, no matter how strange things had gotten. But could Rebecca still count on Maggie?

  When Rebecca finished locking up her bike and walked inside the shop, Tanya and Clio were sprawled out on one of the Persian rugs, poring over a pile of wrinkled papers. Clio was writing down notes on a yellow legal pad, and Tanya was sketching some sort of diagram. On the counter behind them sat a white china platter piled high with a colorful assortment of pastries.

  “Wow, when you said you had doughnuts, you weren’t kidding,” Rebecca said.

  Clio looked up and laughed. “Yeah, my auntie doesn’t mess around. When she does something, she tends to go all out.”

  Kawanna appeared from the back hallway carrying a celadon Japanese tea set on a silver tray. “It’s true. I just can’t help myself.” She placed the tray on the counter and lifted the teapot by its bamboo handle, pouring tea into the small earthenware teacups. The fifth cup—Maggie’s—remained empty. “Good morning, Rebecca.”

  “Good morning,” Rebecca replied. “What are you guys working on?” She carefully extricated a blueberry-crumble doughnut from the pile and pushed aside a heap of rubber monster masks to sit on the floor next to her friends. Kawanna placed a steaming cup of tea next to her. Rebecca closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet jasmine scent. “Mmm, my favorite. Thanks, Kawanna.”

  “You have good taste,” Kawanna replied. “It’s my favorite, too.” She placed her own teacup down gently and joined the group on the floor, curling her legs elegantly beneath her.

  The girls sipped their tea, and Tanya held up a slim red book. “I have an idea, but it probably isn’t going to make much sense. I don’t know if it even makes sense to me!”

  Rebecca read the title silently to herself: Tales of the Night Queen. “This is the book you were talking about the other day. Where does it fit in?”

  Tanya placed the book in the center of their circle.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Tanya answered, “but what’s happening to Kyle sounds an awful lot like one of the stories from this book.” She opened the cover and pointed to an illustration near the front. It was a sketch of a tall woman with an elaborate silver crown, surrounded by shadowy spirits, zombielike figures, and misshapen creatures that looked like a bizarre mix of humans and animals.

  “This is the Night Queen. She rules some kind of place called the Nightmare Realm. I still don’t know exactly where that is, but it sounds pretty terrifying. It’s described as full of darkness and decay, with a bunch of shadow creatures and undead monsters wandering around, making people disappear. The book has a ton of stories and accounts of the Night Queen taking children, only nobody knows the kids are missing at first.”

  Rebecca put down her tea and picked up the book. “But why wouldn’t they know?”

  “In a lot of the stories, the Night Queen replaces the child with something called a changeling,” Clio said. “You can find changeling stories all over the world. My auntie and I actually read a ton of them while we were with my parents in Europe a few years ago. It’s an imposter that looks like the child, but it doesn’t do a very good job of acting like one.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense. Wouldn’t the parents notice?” Rebecca asked.

  “Well, think about the Dunmores,” Clio responded. “You tried to tell them about the bite and Kyle’s teeth, but they didn’t even seem to hear you. Didn’t you find that strange?”

  “Everything about this is strange,” Rebecca said. She turned to Tanya. “But I thought you didn’t believe in supernatural stuff.”

  Tanya smiled. “I don’t, normally, but then I thought about that Sherlock Holmes quote: ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ It’s definitely improbable, but right now it’s the best explanation we have.”

  Kawanna chuckled. “I can’t argue with that.”

  “But how can we be sure that’s what’s really going on?” Rebecca persisted.

  “You know me,” Tanya said. “Supernatural isn’t really in my vocabulary, but science is. Now that we have our hypothesis, it’s time for the next step of the scientific method: conducting our experiment.”

  “An experiment?” Rebecca asked. Just like Tanya to make the impossible seem logical.

  “Well, it’s more like a test,” Tanya said. She lifted up a yellowed piece of paper and laid it carefully in the center of the carpet. Rebecca could see several precise drawings on the page, along with fading cursive handwriting. “Whenever the Night Queen replaces a child with a changeling, she leaves something of her own behind, hidden somewhere in the child’s room. In the book they call it the Queen’s Mark. If there’s one in the Dunmores’ house, it will give us clues about what to do next. If it’s there,” Tanya continued, looking around at the others, “it means the Night Queen took Kyle.”

  “She took him? As in kidnapped?” Rebecca couldn’t breathe. The room was quiet for a moment.

  Kawanna squeezed Rebecca’s shoulder. “We don’t know for sure that’s what happened yet, honey. We just have to take this one step at a time. For right now, let’s concentrate on finding the Mark.”

  Rebecca wiped at her eyes and picked up the paper. She took a deep breath. “Okay, so … the Queen’s Mark. It says here it could be jewelry, feathers, bones, or even some of her hair. How will we know it belongs to her?”

  “You know Kyle’s house better than anyone,” Tanya said. “Do you think you could find it without the family
knowing?”

  “Maybe,” Rebecca said, “but if that’s not really Kyle, I don’t want to babysit there alone again.”

  “You may not have to,” Kawanna said. “Is there a way you could drop by this morning, say you think you forgot something at the house last night?”

  Rebecca pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I can give it a try.”

  Clio picked up her pad and clicked open her pen. “Let’s get to work.”

  * * *

  A short time later, Rebecca and Tanya stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Dunmores’ front porch. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Rebecca whispered.

  “We’ll be fine,” Tanya replied. “Nothing has changed since the last time you were here. If he isn’t Kyle now, he wasn’t Kyle then, either.”

  “Yeah, but it’s different now. Now I know. What if I act all awkward and everyone notices? What if I blow our cover?”

  Tanya grinned and squeezed Rebecca’s shoulder. “Relax; you’re a babysitter, not a spy.”

  “I know. I just can’t believe that any of this is really happening.”

  “Neither can I.” Tanya grabbed her friend’s hand and pulled her up the steps. “Scientifically speaking, it’s totally new territory. I mean, this could change everything we think we understand about the universe.…” Tanya saw the look on Rebecca’s face and trailed off. “Sorry.”

  Rebecca tried to smile. “It’s okay. I just don’t want to let anyone down, you know? Especially not Kyle.”

  “Rebecca, I’ve known you since we were four. Trust me; you’re not going to let anyone down.” Tanya rang the doorbell.

  A disheveled Mrs. Dunmore opened the door. She was still in her robe and pajamas, her hair tangled. She held a cup of coffee in her hand. Behind her, Kyle scowled in his playpen, his toys scattered all over the floor. He looked pale and drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes. “Hi, girls. We’re having a bit of a slow start today, as you can see,” Mrs. Dunmore said. She sighed and ran her hand over her eyes. “Rough morning around here.” She took a long sip of her coffee. “You said you left something in Kyle’s room? We didn’t find anything, but you’re welcome to look again.”