by David Lubar
I really wished I had Abigail and Mookie there to help me snatch the bracelet. Abigail would be able to invent a brilliant plan involving science or logic. Mookie would dream up something so crazy that it might actually work. I looked out the window. They were on the sidewalk, standing near a low brick wall that ran along the front edge of the lawn.
What would they do if they were here? Mookie would probably scream, “Killer bracelet! Save her!” and pluck it right off her wrist. Abigail would trick her out of it with some kind of brilliant argument. Or she’d whip out a laser and heat the bracelet up from across the room. I needed to do something fast, or Rodney might try to make good on his promise that I’d leave the party in pieces. He’d already started to move toward me.
Pieces . . .
“Got it!” I gasped as the idea hit me. I didn’t know if it was brilliant or crazy, but it was all I had. In a weird way, I had Rodney to thank for it. I walked over to Shawna and said, “You look thirsty. Let me get you a drink.” I made sure I spoke loudly enough for Rodney to hear me, too.
“Thanks. That’s very sweet of you, Nathan.” Her voice was sparkly now—totally different from the one she’d used to call my friends losers. If Rodney was a slug crossed with a gorilla, I guess Shawna was a chameleon crossed with a cobra.
At the snack table, I poured a glass full of orange soda, did something awful I really didn’t want to think about, and then headed back toward Shawna. I was ready to give her the drink myself, if I had to, but I really hoped I’d just suckered Rodney into doing the dirty work for me, because Shawna was going to totally hate whoever handed her that cup. And if anyone deserved to be hated, it was Rodney.
“I’ll take that,” Rodney said, grabbing my shoulder.
I paused for a second, like I was thinking about arguing. If I gave up too easily, he might get suspicious. I think he dug his fingers deeper into my shoulder, but it was hard to tell since there wasn’t any pain. I moaned like a wimp and handed him the cup. His evil smirk erased any guilt I felt over what was about to happen to him. Like a dog taking a ball back to his owner, Rodney carried the soda to Shawna.
Please work, please work, please work. . . .
Shawna raised the cup to her lips and took a sip.
Notice it, notice it, notice it. . . .
She took a second sip. I wiggled my fingers slightly.
Right now, right now, right now . . .
Shawna frowned and tilted the cup. She froze. Her eyes grew wider. And wider. I got ready to spring into action.
A moment later, the scream erupted. Shawna flung the cup from her, spraying orange soda all over the room. I saw two things beside the cup and soda fly through the air. I needed both of them. Luckily, they went in roughly the same direction. Even more luckily, they didn’t fly toward the chocolate fountain. I followed the trail of soda-splashed kids and then dived to the floor.
I found the bracelet first. It was under the couch. I had to search a bit longer for my little finger. I definitely hadn’t enjoyed tearing it off. There wasn’t any pain, but it was still the single most awful thing I’d ever done. Once I was cured and sleeping again, I’d probably have a lifetime of nightmares about this.
Part of me felt bad for Shawna. Even if she was mean and cruel, she didn’t really deserve to find a finger in her soda. As for Rodney, I’m glad I’d tricked him into handing the glass to her. I hoped this would mess up his dating plans. After I found my finger, I headed out the door and raced over to Mookie and Abigail. Just like Rodney said, I was leaving there in pieces. Nobody paid any attention when I left. Shawna’s scream had set off a spreading panic.
“Got it,” I said as I held up the bracelet. “Let’s finish the cure.”
“We can do it at my house,” Abigail said. “There’s time.”
Something caught my eye. I moved under a streetlight. Alexandrite was sort of purple. Abigail had told me that. And, after she mentioned it, I’d looked it up online to see if there was another way to get some. Close up, I could see that the stone in the charm was red. I checked all the other charms. There weren’t any other stones.
Oh, no . . . I’d stolen the wrong bracelet. It never even occurred to me that Shawna might have more than one charm bracelet. Of all the stupid, idiotic moves I could make, I’d managed to do the one thing that would absolutely doom me. “This isn’t alexandrite. . . .” I felt like all my hopes had just been smashed with a gigantic sledgehammer.
“No. It looks like a ruby,” Abigail said.
I stomped my foot on the sidewalk to see if there was any life left in it. A tiny spot, no larger than a dime, stung. The rest was dead. I was almost out of time.
16
Taking the Cure
I can’t believe I messed up. It’s over. I’ll be dead forever.” My chest jerked like I was having the biggest asthma attack of my life. I expected my lungs to cry for air. But they didn’t need it. They’d never need it again. My brain went into overdrive. I fell to my knees. “I’m dead. I’m really dead.” I couldn’t stop saying it. The cry morphed into a single howl pouring from my throat.
“Nathan, it’s okay.” Abigail tugged at my arm. “Come with me.”
“Why? What’s the point? I’m dead. Just leave me alone.”
Mookie leaned over and slapped my face. It didn’t hurt, but it got my attention. “What was that for?”
“You’re hysterical,” he said. “You’re supposed to slap people when they get like that.”
I reached up and slapped him back. He staggered away, clutching at his cheek. I stood, mindless and angry, and headed toward him for another slap. I snarled a wordless growl.
“Nathan!” Abigail shouted. “Stop it.” She dragged me over to the brick wall. “Sit down. And take off your shoe. We don’t need the gem.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
Her voice got very quiet. “The scales and the mushroom are really all we needed.”
“What do you mean?” I stared at her, but she didn’t meet my eye.
“It was a lie,” she said.
“Why?” Mookie asked.
I realized I knew the answer. “You wanted to go to the party.”
Abigail nodded.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Mookie said. “I wanted to go to the party. I still do.”
“We all wanted to go,” I said. As much as Abigail acted like it wasn’t important, I knew she was just like me, and like all the kids who weren’t at the coolest table and didn’t get to go to the coolest parties—or any parties. We all pretended we didn’t care. But we all wanted a chance to find out how it felt to be on the other side of the window.
Abigail whispered something I couldn’t make out.
“What did you say?”
“I made up the part about the mushroom, too.”
“Why?”
“It was so much fun when we went to the aquarium for the fish scale. Wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Mookie said. “That’s the best place I’ve ever been kicked out of.”
“At first, you were just a test subject,” Abigail said. “I needed to observe the Hurt-Be-Gone before I used it on myself. Then I got to know you. It was so cool hanging out with you and Mookie. I never had friends before. I always pretended I didn’t need them. When I was little, none of the other kids understood me. They made fun of me. So I stopped trying to make friends. But you guys are so cool. You don’t mind that I’m smart, and you never make fun of me. I wanted to do more stuff with you. You’re the best.”
“So you dragged us through the woods?” I asked. “And you tricked me into going to the party.”
Her head drooped lower. “I wanted to go. But I wasn’t being selfish. And least, not totally. I wanted it for you and Mookie, too. I wanted you to be popular. Everyone would like you if they really got to know you.”
“That’s true,” Mookie said. “I know us, and I like us.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” I said. “We’ll never be popular.” But ev
en as I spoke, I realized it wasn’t that simple, or that hopeless. Some of the kids at the party, and at school, seemed to like me for myself, and not just because of field day. I’d actually started to like Abigail once I got to know her. And I’d stopped liking Shawna at all when I got to know what she was really like.
Abigail’s head snapped up. “Listen, I was wrong. I’ll admit it. I used you. And I lied to you. But we need to apply the cure now. Immediately. You can yell at me later. I guess I deserve it.” Abigail reached in her purse and pulled out a plastic butter container.
She lifted the lid and took out a Band-Aid. The wrapper was off, but the paper was still covering the strips. As she bent back the paper, I saw a blob of rainbow-colored jelly quiver on the pad.
“Is that it?” I asked.
“Yeah. I made the cure from the scales. It really did take a long time to extract the ingredients. I didn’t lie about that part. But it’s ready now. That’s all that matters. Come on—you need to wear it on the live part of you. Take off your shoe.”
I slipped off my shoe and pulled off my sock. Abigail stuck the Band-Aid on the bottom of my foot. I gritted my teeth, but there wasn’t any pain. A warm tingle spread outward from the spot. The warmth crawled across the bottom of my foot and seeped toward my ankles. It was the nicest thing I’d ever felt.
“I think it’s working,” I whispered.
“You’ll feel normal in an hour or two.”
“And that’s it? I’ll be alive again?”
“Yes. But listen carefully,” Abigail said as I pulled my sock back on. “You have to wear this until you are completely cured. You have to let it spread to every inch of your body, all the way to the top of your head. Do you understand? You need to leave it on until you are completely normal.”
“Then I guess it’s never coming off,” Mookie said.
Abigail spun toward him. “This isn’t a joke!” Then she looked back at me. “Do you understand?”
“Sure. If I take it off before I’m cured, I’m in big trouble.”
“Right. And it won’t happen slowly. It will be like a stretched rubber band snapping back. You’ll be all zombie, forever.”
“No way I’d let that happen,” I said.
My nightmare was almost over. I was about to rejoin the living, breathing, pain-feeling, inhaler-sucking world. I’d miss the ability to swim underwater or play video games like an expert, but it was stuff I’d happily give up in exchange for the chance to burn my mouth on hot pizza or shiver in a rainstorm.
“Uh-oh.” I reached in my pocket and grabbed my little finger and the bottle of glue. “I’d better stick this on while my hand is still dead.”
It hurt just as much as I remembered. My scream of pain was matched by a shout from behind us.
“And don’t ever come back!”
Rodney was getting kicked out of Shawna’s house. Loudly. As he walked down the steps, Shawna followed him, yelling stuff you normally don’t hear from girls when they’re in public.
“You lousy stinking evil creepy guy. You slime-sucking brainless prank-playing dirtwad. You heap of warmed-over snot clumps.”
It got worse. Shawna yelled at Rodney all the way to the end of her lawn. He slumped down like a dog that had just been punished for ripping up a sofa cushion. Then she yelled at him all the way to the corner. I had to admit she had an impressive vocabulary.
“Here.” I handed her the bracelet when she came back. “I think you dropped this.”
She took the bracelet from me, but she seemed like she was sort of in a fog. I guess the horror of almost swallowing my little finger had been pretty hard on her. “Nathan. Why are you leaving? The party just started.”
“Because I don’t want to ditch my friends.”
“So come on in. All of you.”
“Sure. That would be great.” It was nice that everyone would finally get to join the party.
“Yes!” Mookie said.
“No thanks,” Abigail said.
“No?” Mookie looked rapidly back and forth from me to Abigail, then squeezed his eyes shut and yelled, “You guys decide! I can’t handle the pressure.” With all the hair on his face, he looked like a coconut.
“We’ll be right there,” I told Shawna.
“Great.” She headed back in.
“What’s that about?” I asked Abigail. “You’re dying to go in there.”
“Not anymore. I was being foolish.”
“No, you weren’t,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be popular. And there’s nothing wrong with most of the kids in there. Actually, most of them are pretty nice.”
“I don’t care. I’m going home and having chili. You can come if you want.” Abigail walked away from us.
Mookie opened his eyes. “Ahhhhh! I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, come inside and think about it.” I knew Abigail wanted me to chase after her. But I was tired of being a puppet. And, as thrilled as I was to be cured, I was annoyed with her for making me run all over the place, and tricking me, and letting me get so close to being dead.
“Come on, Mookie. Let’s party.” I headed for the steps. Mookie followed me.
A party was a weird place to be while my body was returning from death. The room vibrated with loud music and pulsed with moving, living bodies. By now, life had spread past my ankles. Soon, it would reach the top of my head, and I’d be just another normal guy.
I noticed that Shawna didn’t drink any more soda. I felt sort of sorry for her, but I think she deserved to suffer a bit for the way she’d treated my friends.
It was nice hanging out with a bunch of kids. But there was a part of me that couldn’t seem to enjoy what I was doing. By the time the life had reached my chest—and my heart, I guess—I started feeling a little guilty about the way I’d ditched Abigail. She’d looked so small and lonely as she shuffled off to her pot of chili. All she’d really wanted was to find a way to deal with the one huge hurt in her life. She’d suffered a pretty big loss.
By the time the life reached my chin, I was feeling a lot more than just a little guilty. I’d be totally cured soon, and it was all because of Abigail. I could picture her sitting up in her room with a bowl of chili as she read the encyclopedia or looked at stuff through her microscope.
“Had enough?” I asked Mookie, who was staring out the window in the direction of Abigail’s house.
He nodded, but wasn’t able to speak, since his mouth was filled with potato chips, pretzels, and popcorn—all of which he’d dipped in chocolate.
“Maybe we should go see Abigail,” I said.
I thanked Shawna for inviting me. Then Mookie and I headed out. We were two blocks away from Abigail’s house when I realized my breathing was completely back. I sniffed the air and asked Mookie, “Do you smell that?”
“Why do I always get blamed when there’s a smell?” he asked.
“No. Not that. I smell smoke.”
He sniffed. “Yeah. Someone’s got a fire going.”
“I like fireplaces.” I felt the top of my head. Life had returned to almost all of my body. I’d be completely cured in just a couple more minutes. This winter, I could sit by a fire, feel the warmth, and sip hot cocoa. It would be great.
We were a block away from Abigail’s house when I saw the large plume of black smoke. Huge dark clouds rose in the air, blotting out the moon.
An unfamiliar feeling shot through my stomach. Panic. As we raced closer, I saw flames reaching out from the downstairs windows, licking at the walls and climbing higher.
“I’ll bet it was that Crock-Pot,” I said. “It must have caught fire.” Abigail had said her mom wasn’t home. I really hoped Abigail wasn’t home, either.
We ran toward her house, shouting, “Fire!” By now, the whole place was burning like a crumpled piece of paper in a fireplace.
My hopes crumpled, too, when I saw someone at an upstairs window. Abigail was inside.
17
Flame and Fortune<
br />
Help!”
It was a faint scream, muffled by the glass. Abigail, no longer wearing the wig or mustache, was trying to get the window open. And then she collapsed.
Far off—way too far off—I heard the faint sound of sirens from the other side of the valley.
“They’ll never get here in time.” I raced for the door. A couple people had gathered by the middle of the lawn, but they didn’t move any closer to the house. I guess the heat was holding them back.
Nothing was going to stop me. Sweat rolled off my face, but I ignored the heat. I grabbed the knob, then yelled and pulled my arm back as the hot metal seared my fingers.
I kicked at the door. The fire must have damaged it enough so it was weakened. It splintered off the hinges. I could barely make out the stairs ahead of me in the smoke-filled air. Two steps in, I had to back off. The smoke hit my lungs like a scouring pad. I couldn’t breathe.
“Nathan!” Mookie yelled. “Stop! It’s too dangerous.”
“I have to try.”
Abigail would die if I didn’t save her. Die for real and forever. The smoke would kill her. I’d die if I tried to get inside. But the smoke couldn’t kill me if I was already dead. There was no time to think about it. I pulled off my shoe, yanked off my sock, and ripped off the Band-Aid.
Death returned with stunning force.
I felt like I’d been thumped on top of my head by a giant fist. I fell flat on my back. My body went numb. But I no longer smelled smoke. My eyes no longer burned. My lungs stopped screaming for clean air.
I slipped my shoe back on and rushed into Abigail’s house. I couldn’t feel the heat anymore, but I could hear the fire. It whooshed and crackled all around me. I checked my clothes to make sure they hadn’t burst into flames. I could be burning up and not even know it.
