“Yeah, well, I’d like to make ours a little more up close and personal.”
I jerked in surprise. “Junior,” I said with exaggerated patience. “We don’t have a relationship. You’re thousands of miles away. I’m in Peacock Flats. And, Beck’s my boyfriend now.”
“You sure about that?”
At his words, a shadow of doubt flickered through my mind. Beck usually called me every night. Today was Friday. I hadn’t talked to him since last Saturday night. He left for Seattle the next day. Busy with homework or something else?
“Of course I’m sure,” I insisted. “Besides, why do you care?” Okay, that sounded a little harsh. But, I didn’t want Junior to think he could run my life because he gave me his car.
“I care because I’m going to be back in Peacock Flats soon.”
“Did your show get cancelled?”
“No, I’m moving on.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Coming back to Peacock Flats is ‘moving on?’”
“Naw, it’s just that I’m doing movies now. No more soaps. That means I’ve got more time for myself.”
“Wow, so now you’re a big movie star?” I didn’t know much about Mexican movies, so I pictured Junior with a black cape and mask and astride a rearing white stallion.
“Not so big,” he said. “But, this way, I can get home more often. My mom needs something to do. When I started making money, I made her quit her job at the warehouse and she’s bored. Remember Cholo’s Bar and Grill out on the highway?”
“Yeah, it’s been empty for a while.”
“I just bought it. We’ll do some remodeling and my mom will run it.”
I tried to process the above information. Junior . . . a movie star. Junior . . . new restaurant owner. Junior . . . back in Peacock Flats. My mind was reeling.
“Wow,” was all I could manage.
Junior continued. “I want to get my GED. But it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to go back to John J. Peacock High.”
I pictured Junior fighting off hordes of admiring high school girls and smiled. Some things never change. That was his life before he got famous.
“Guess I’ll see you around then,” I said.
“Count on it.”
After we hung up, I took a deep breath and attempted to focus my scattered thoughts. I needed to get ready for the grilling I was about to receive from Faye. But, when the bedroom door slid open and my mother stepped out, my heart sank. Now, I knew why she’d been so easy on me. She was wearing her “first date, gotta look hot dress.” Faye had a new boyfriend. 294
Chapter Eleven
“My Mr. Hostetler?” I asked, unable to believe my ears. “Principal Hostetler?”
Faye smiled and nodded. “Yes, your Mr. Hostetler. He dropped by the diner today and said he’d like to take me out for dinner and a movie. I knew you’d be happy because you always say I date losers. You are happy for me . . . right?” Her words held a hint of threat, as if I really had no choice but to be delirious with joy I made a noncommittal sound as the wheels and cogs in my brains began to spin and whir. I really hate it when Faye uses perfect logic. It throws me off my game. Was I happy? Uh, no, more like horrified. My mother and my principal? What if they got serious about each other? What if they . . . eewww! Don’t go there, Allie. You’re life is complicated enough. Faye peered out the window and then turned to beam a smile at me. “Here he comes.”
I stifled a groan. “What about Chad?”
“Chad’s with him. I told Leon you’d be glad to take care of him.”
I blew off the fact that she’d offered my babysitting services without asking me and repeated,
“Leon? You call him Mr. Hostetler Leon?”
Faye folded her arms across her chest and stared down at me. “Well, that is his name, Allie. Am I supposed to call him Mr. Hostetler?”
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to look non-judgmental. Now was not the time to get all hostile with Faye, especially since I’d just dropped the faery bomb, which was bound to have further repercussions.
Faye threw open the door and chirped, “Hi, you two.” She stepped aside so Chad could enter.
“Ready to go, Leon? I’d invite you in but in this place, three’s a crowd.”
Thank you, God. At least I wouldn’t have to make small talk with Mr. Hostetler who, I suspected, might be lusting after my mother’s bod. Beyond awkward!
“Bye, Allie,” Faye said. “We won’t be late.”
I waved goodbye while Chad gazed around the trailer, taking in the tiny dinette table, our mini fridge, my couch bed and single chair, my clothes folded and stacked inside plastic crates.
“Cool,” he said. “It’s like camping out year round. You’re so lucky.”
His comment made me smile. During the past week, I’d discovered ten-year-old boys were fun to hang with. At least, in Chad’s case. “You might not think it’s so great during the winter, when you’re stuck inside.”
Chad grinned back at me. “Wanna go outside? Can I go in the barn? Is that farting bull around?
Does your uncle have a tractor?”
I followed Chad out of the trailer. “Uncle Sid’s tractor is parked over by the barn. You can sit on it if you want, and Blaster’s probably around somewhere. He doesn’t like me, though.”
Chad looked up at me, his eyes wide and serious. “That’s because you have faery blood.”
“Oh, puhleeze!”
“It’s true. I read about it online. In the old days, people thought faeries made cows’ milk turn sour, so they put bells around the cows’ necks to keep the faeries away.”
I couldn’t resist an eye roll. Chad didn’t notice because he was racing toward the barn as fast as his skinny little legs could carry him. I trailed behind, enjoying the fresh breeze sweeping down from the foothills of the Cascades. The sun was slipping behind the apple tree next to our trailer as the hot 295
August day faded into twilight. The moon would rise soon.
Automatically, my hand rose to clutch the moonstone, checking to make sure it covered the silver cross I wore on the same chain. With the help of the Bradford family, I’d found a way to keep the moonstone safe. Turned two clicks in its setting—to six o’clock—and worn next to a silver cross, the moonstone was surrounded by an impenetrable force field. If anyone tried to take it off me, that person got a painful zap, like when you stick your finger into an electrical socket. I wore it in that setting most of the time, in case some badass Trimarks were hanging around Peacock Flats. I watched Chad sitting on Uncle Chad’s tractor, cranking the wheel and making the sounds little boys make when they’re pretending to drive. Vroom, vroom, e rrr, errr, with an occasional screech of brakes thrown in. I guess even faery boys like big rigs with powerful engines. I sat on a straw bale and watched a red tailed hawk soaring high in the evening sky, his high-pitched scree scree blending nicely with Chad’s motor noises. After a single flap of his powerful wings, the hawk fluttered earthward and perched on top of the old cistern next to the pasture.
My peaceful moment ended when Chad spotted Blaster. He jumped off the tractor. “Hey, is that the bull? Can you make him fart?”
I sighed. “He doesn’t fart on command, Chad. But wait a couple of minutes and, trust me, you’ll get your wish.”
“Cool,” Chad said again and scampered toward the pasture.
“Hold it,” I yelled and took off after him, but I was wearing flip flops and there was no way I could keep up. “Slow down, Chad, Blaster’s dangerous!”
That statement was about one percent true. Ninety nine percent of the time, Blaster was like a big, old cow, chewing his cud and blissfully contributing his share of methane gas to the universe. But, he was a bull and as such, could be dangerous. Since he didn’t like me and, if Chad was right about the faery thing, Blaster wouldn’t like him either. We needed to be careful. Chad screeched to a halt a few inches from the electric fence. Blaster, who’d been trotting toward the fence, stopped in his tr
acks, flared his nostrils and pawed the ground. Not a good sign. My heart banged against my chest as I raced toward Chad. When I reached him, I grabbed his arm and whispered, “Start walking backward . . . slowly.”
Chad looked up at me, his eyes clouded with confusion. “Won’t the fence stop him?”
With a hiss of exasperation, I said, “Buddy boy, when Blaster gets ticked off, he can go through that fence like it’s not even there. I saw him do it once when a coyote was standing right where you are. Now, please, do as I say.”
We crept slowly backward, never taking our eyes off Blaster. I was getting ready to grab Chad and make a run for it, when the bull lifted his head skyward and let out a high-pitched bellow of rage so terrifying, I swear my heart stopped. The very next second, he lowered his head and charged toward the fence, his hooves throwing up bits of mud and grass as he thundered closer. I threw Chad behind me. “Run, Chad! Go!”
Chad darted behind the apple tree. I started to stumble after him, but Blaster was just inches from the fence. No way would I make it! I’d stopped him before. I could do it again. I clutched the moonstone with one hand and extended the other, palm forward, praying my magic wouldn’t fail me. I focused on the bull and summoned every ounce of the strength and power I felt building in my body. “Stop!” I screamed.
An arc of iridescent blue light shot from my body and slammed into the huge, black bull, lifting him from his feet. He floated up and sailed backward a good twenty yards. His droopy ears and tail shot straight up. His eyes, normally little pools of meanness, opened so wide I could see white all around them. With his front legs stretched forward and hind legs extended behind him, he looked like 296
he was trying to stick a ten point landing in bovine gymnastics. If it hadn’t been so scary, I’d have laughed.
I let him hover in the air a while before dropping my arm slowly, making sure Blaster floated gently back to earth. After all, he was Uncle Sid’s money maker. He stood motionless for a few seconds, a look of utter surprise on his face, before lifting his tail and proving, once again, why the name Blaster suited him so well. Then, with a soft moo that sounded more like Bossy the cow than Blaster the bull, he shook his head, turned and trotted away. I resumed breathing. A wave of dizziness swept over me. My stomach did a couple of nausea-inducing flips. I looked over at Chad, who was peering around the tree trunk, his face ghostly white in the dim light. He shot out from behind the tree and launched himself at my body like a heat-seeking missile. Before he threw his arms around my waist, I clicked the moonstone back to twelve o’clock to keep him from getting zapped. “I’m sorry, Allie.”
As I held his trembling body, I visualized what could have happened. Chad, bloody and broken on the ground, maybe even dead. Chad . . . my responsibility. Gently, I loosened Chad’s grip and stepped away. “Not your fault,” I said with a shaky laugh. “I forgot to tell you the number one rule around here. Don’t mess with the bull.”
He gave me a wobbly smile. “No kidding. I coulda been Flat Chad.”
I decided to go with the flow. “Yep, Flat Chad, the paper doll. Complete kit comes with a charging bull and irresponsible teenage girl.”
My knees were feeling a little weak, so I sank to the ground and leaned against the tree trunk, my head in my hands. I took a couple of deep breaths unable to shake the image of what could have happened. Geez, Chad was just a little kid. I should have warned him about the bull. I felt Chad’s slight body settle in next to mine. He patted my arm. “It’s okay, Allie. Guess what?”
I raised my head and looked at him.
“You saved my life.” He reached a hand toward the moonstone “And that thing helped you do it.”
I took his hand and put it in his lap. “Second rule. Don’t touch the moonstone.”
He frowned at me and huffed, “I wasn’t planning on touching it. Even if I did, so what?”
“It can hurt you.”
“Huh?”
“There’s lots of stuff you don’t know.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I told you lots of stuff. I’m pretty darn good at keeping secrets. I’ve had lots of practice.”
Score one for the kid. He’d been different all his life, and when he found out why, it wasn’t exactly something he could share with the world. I knew how he felt.
“Besides, I already knew you could do magic.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Caitlyn.”
“So, are you going to tell me or not?” Chad demanded.
Good question. Would sharing info about my special abilities put Chad in even more danger? Or, since he was hanging out with me for hours at a time, would not knowing be worse?
My teacher, Mrs. Burke says, “Information is power.” Power in the hands of a ten-year-old could be dangerous, but somehow it felt right to trust Chad with my bizarre personal history. I took a big breath and dove in. “This isn’t the first time I’ve used telekinetic power on Blaster. But, back then, I didn’t even know the moonstone existed.”
Chad listened without saying a word while I told him the whole story. How I fell off the ladder, bounced off the electric fence and made Blaster run backwards. I showed him the star on my palm, 297
told him about Kizzy and the prophecy and that it was my destiny to have the moonstone. By the time I filled him in on the Star Seekers and Trimarks, it was fully dark. A bright half-moon peeped over the roof of the trailer, bathing Chad’s pale cheeks in silvery light. When I ran out of words, Chad took my hand. “Don’t worry, Allie. Your secret’s safe with me.”
I smiled. “I know. That’s why I told you.”
“So, does the moonstone make the TKP work better?”
I nodded. “For sure.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the rising moon. “What happens when moonlight hits the moonstone?”
Strangely, I’d never considered that scenario. I shrugged.
“Wanna try?” Chad said.
“Sure.” We scrambled up and stepped away from the tree. I checked to see where Blaster was and spotted him grazing in the middle of the pasture, his tail still switching angrily. I grasped the moonstone still hanging from its silver chain around my neck and moved it three clicks in its setting to the nine o’clock position. With the pendant lying on my palm, I turned to face the half moon. Moonlight glistened on the iridescent stone, its reflected light creating a dancing rainbow on its surface.
Slowly, it began to warm and pulsate in my hand. Chad inhaled sharply. “Whoa! Is that thing glowing?”
Mesmerized, I stared at the moonstone, and realized it was not just reflecting light, but growing brighter by the second. Was it possible the moonstone was creating its own energy?
Driven by an instinct I didn’t understand, I lifted the moonstone higher into the shaft of moonlight. An icy tingle spread from the stone’s point of contact in my hand as the strength and power of the moon surged through my body. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear I heard the moon call my name. The only way I can describe the feeling is this: even with my feet firmly planted on earth, a part of me separated from my body and became one with the moon. Swear to God, I was looking down at Uncle Sid’s orchard from above. For the second time tonight, my stomach flipped over and I was engulfed by a heady dizziness that almost toppled me. And then, the world stopped turning.
298
Chapter Twelve
Blinded by painfully brilliant light, I let the moonstone fall from my nerveless fingers and bang against my chest. I staggered sideways, my arms flailing the air as I desperately tried to keep from falling. Bitter bile rose in my throat. After lurching a few more steps, gravity won out and I crumpled onto the ground, landing on my right side. I sucked in air and tried to figure out where I was and what was happening to me. Was I having a stroke? A heart attack?
Slowly, the dizziness and nausea began to fade and my vision cleared. I pushed up to my hands and knees and waited a few beats to make sure my legs would hold me when I stood. Instead of the usual night sounds—wind rustling through th
e apple trees, Blaster chomping grass, cars whizzing by on Peacock Flats Road—I heard the ba- bump of my beating heart, the whoosh of blood rushing through my veins and the sound of my lungs expanding and contracting. My nostrils were filled with the scent of ripe oranges and crushed mint leaves, an odor so powerful, I could taste it. Speechless and struggling to process what I was seeing, I gazed in wonder at a world bathed in silver. Uncle Sid’s apple trees . . . silver. Our crappy trailer . . . silver. Uncle Sid’s tractor . . . silver. Blaster the bull and Chad . . . both silver. Make that silver and frozen in space and time. Chad’s mouth was hanging open. Crouching slightly, he was standing with his right arm extended, pointing at the moonstone.
Blaster’s head was turned toward us, his tail frozen in mid-switch, a long string of slobber hanging, frozen, from his half-open mouth to the ground.
I looked up and saw a plane hanging motionless in sky. With my heart pounding in my chest, I stood in the moonlight and gazed at my silver-coated world, trying to wrap my mind around a totally foreign concept. Somehow, some way, I had used the moonstone and stopped the world dead in its tracks. I could come to no other conclusion.
I raised my hand and wiggled my fingers, double checking to make sure I was able to move in the strange atmosphere I’d created. I waved my hands in front of Chad’s face and watched silver particles fly from my fingertips. When I glanced at the apple tree, I saw wind chimes canted at a strange angle. Wind chimes meant Trilby, my screwy guardian angel, was on her way. I must have stopped her, midjourney, from whatever level of heaven she now occupied. Trilby would just have to wait, because as my confusion lifted, I made a decision. Since I’d managed to stop time, might as well have a little fun. I laughed out loud as I thought of the things I could do. Walk into Uncle Sid’s house and use a magic marker to draw a mustache on Aunt Sandra. Use my TKP and park Matt’s Jeep on top of the roof.
For starters, I crawled under the fence and danced around Blaster, darting in to touch his wicked horns. With a running start and a loud grunt of effort, I leaped up, grabbed a handful of silver fur and pulled myself up on Blaster’s back. Moonstruck and sitting astride a killer bull, I raised a fist to the sky and screamed at the top of my lungs, “Yes! I did it!”
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