by A. L. Knorr
"That's nasty," said Dana, looking at an illustration inside the black book and opening it out for the others to see. Edgar and Molly looked. It was a painting of hundreds of bodies impaled on a thick stakes, all headless and dripping blood. There was a whole forest of them, under a sky pregnant with black clouds. A black castle loomed on the distant horizon.
Alf and Teddy had grown bored of the parasitic isopod and joined the others in the alcove. They saw the illustration Dana was holding up.
“That's amazing!" cried Alf, bending to snatch the book from Dana.
"Rude," she sniffed.
"How much do you want for this?" Molly asked, closing the cover of the book with the eye inside. She held it up for Edgar to see, but for some reason didn't want to let it go.
"How much for this?" Alf held the black book up in Edgar's face, blocking Molly from view.
"I'm afraid these two books actually have to be sold together. You can't just take one," Edgar said sheepishly. He put a hand on the black book and pushed it down so he could see Molly.
"But, that makes no sense," cried Molly. “Why can't I take this one and Alfie take that one?" She couldn't afford to take both. She didn't even know if she could afford the one she wanted.
Edgar hated the desperate look on Molly's face, but he shook his head. The kids didn't understand how bound he was to Astarte's wishes. "I'm afraid I can't explain it. It was something that my wife made me swear to. She said that the books would make it to their rightful owners but not if they were apart. She said..." Edgar paused, remembering, "that the hands in which this treasure belonged would, with these pages, find their way home." He frowned. "Or something like that."
"I'm the rightful owner, Molly." Alfie jammed a thumb into his own chest. "You're outta luck. We all know you can't afford both books. You probably can't even afford one."
Molly's mouth dropped open at the accuracy of his stinging words.
“Easy now, Alfie,” Teddy muttered, seeing the hurt on Molly’s face. Sometimes Alf made it hard to remember why they were friends.
Alf held out his hand for the brown book and curled his fingers, beckoning her to hand it over. Molly clutched it to her chest.
"Now, now," said Edgar, reproachfully. "Let me check the registry. These were part of my wife's inventory and I don't know what she had them priced at." Mr Catchpole turned and made his way back down the stairs to his drawers and drawers of hand-written catalogue cards.
Teddy's heart broke at the worry on Molly's face. "His wife won't know the difference anyway, Moll," he whispered. "Just let Alfie buy both of them and he'll give you the other one after we leave."
"Why would I do that?" Alf said. "You heard Crazy Catchpole, these books are treasure."
Dana shushed him and whacked him on the arm. "Don't be an idiot, Alfie. You don't care about the brown book. Just let Molly have it."
A wicked grin spread across Alf's face. "Only if you do my homework for a month." He leered at Molly.
"Tell you what," said Molly, taking a breath. What Alf didn't know was that she had been given ten dollars from her mother for her birthday almost five months ago, five dollars from Mr.Gregor, the school janitor, whom she sometimes helped for a half hour after school (while avoiding going home). And she also found three dollars stuck between the seats of her dad's old Ford half-ton before he'd been forced to sell it. She was planning on getting a fresh haircut for her uncontrollable red curls, but as soon as her fingers had traced the illustrated eye, she knew she had to have the book. She felt inexplicably tethered to it.
Edgar had a foot on the bottom step of the staircase, price card in hand. He paused, listening as Molly continued.
"If the books are more than $18, they're all yours and we have a deal. If they're $18 or less, then I get them." She lowered her voice, "And maybe I'll think about selling the disgusting one to you for $6. If you're nice to me."
"Ha!" Alf laughed. There was no way these antique, hand-made leather-bound books were less than twenty. They were past the point of old-worthless, and might even be toeing into the territory of old-priceless. "Deal."
Edgar appeared at the top of the stairs, tucking the price card into his shirt pocket. Teddy thought he caught a five and a zero written on the card, but couldn't be sure. Edgar took a breath at the top of the stairs. The staircase seemed to get longer every year.
"So, how much are they, old man?" Alfie turned a Cheshire cat grin on the proprietor.
"Seventeen on the nose, young pup," pronounced Edgar, giving Alfie his own version of a triumphant smile.
Molly whooped and got to her feet. "I'll take that," she snatched the black book from a stunned Alf and produced the wrinkled bills from her pocket. "Here you go Edgar. Thanks a lot!"
Edgar took the money and nodded. "I guess the books have found their owner. Astarte would be pleased. Enjoy."
Alf's face flushed red and he made a fist. He turned toward the spiral staircase, huffing. "Whatever." Just as he took a step, Bastet, forgotten by everyone, darted from the shadows and between Alfie's legs. He lost his balance, swore and tripped sideways in an effort not to fall down the stairs, thumping a shoulder hard against the glass case.
"Look out!" Molly yelled. "Watch the cabinet!" But she was too late.
Chapter 3
There was an enormous crash as the case tipped over in the middle of the cluster of people and hit the banister. Teddy backed into Dana and Molly, shoving them out of the path of the heavy cabinet. Alfie dodged to the other side, squealing and crushing Edgar's toes in his effort to escape. The glass doors of the cabinet shattered into a million pieces and the shards poured down over the balcony and onto the counter below like frozen rain. Books and oddities poured from the shelves and dropped, the sound of fluttering pages and thumps filled the shop. A heavy sliding sound could be heard as the jar containing the parasitic isopod slid off the shelf and shattered on the floor below. Everyone cringed as the sound of broken glass hit the floor and piles of books landed in a heap. The last pieces of glass hit the floor below and a heavy silence descended.
Teddy, Dana, and Molly extricated themselves from their huddle. Molly still clutched the two antique books to her chest. The kids eyes all tracked to Edgar's face, which had gone a sick grey colour as he leaned over the balcony and surveyed the mess. The pale body of the isopod, larger even than Bastet, lay in two parts on his countertop. The smell of formaldehyde obliterated the scent of old books that Molly had so come to love.
"Eurgh," Dana groaned and plugged her nose, eyes watering. "Alfie!"
"It wasn't my fault! It was the stupid cat," Alf raged, his eyes scanning for the animal, who'd vanished behind one pile of books or another.
"Shut up, Alfie," snapped Teddy. "Help me push the cabinet back." The two boys straightened the now empty cabinet upright against the wall.
Molly tucked the old books into her book bag, and she and Dana squatted to pick up the biggest shards of glass.
"No! Don't touch anything!" Edgar yelled, putting out his palms. "Stop!"
"Ouch!" Molly snatched her hand back, bright red blood welled from the slice on the soft mound of her hand. "That was so dumb." Her eyes watered as her hand stung.
"Oh, blast.” Edgar's shoulders slumped. "I'll see if I have a bandaid."
"No, no, it’s okay, Edgar. I’m fine. We've already caused too much trouble." Molly got to her feet, Teddy put an hand under her elbow to help her up, and took her book bag. "We have to get back anyway. I'm so sorry we've made such a mess. I'll come back after class and help you clean it up."
"Don't worry, Molly," Edgar sounded old. "I'll have it done by then. I've been meaning to mop and vacuum anyway."
Teddy heaved Molly's bag over his shoulder. Molly clutched her injured hand to her chest. A few splatters of blood hit her shoe and soaked into her coat sleeve.
Dana fished in her pocket and pulled out a travel pack of tissues. "Here, put a tissue on it, at least."
Molly took a tissue and pressed it to
the cut. The kids gingerly picked their way through the broken glass and down the stairs. When Molly reached the hardwood floor, movement in her periphery caught her eye. Bastet sat upright on top of a wooden box beside the front door, her tail curled up beside her, flicking back and forth. Her golden-yellow eyes found Molly's face and didn't let go.
"Ohhhhh," Molly breathed a sigh and took a few steps toward the cat, reaching out her injured hand. Her nostrils flared and the faint smell of spices tickled into her nose.
Edgar, the last one down the stairs, saw Molly telegraph intention to pet Bastet where she was perched. Molly's bloody hand moved into the air over the wooden casket. A droplet of blood hung from the heel of Molly's hand. His eyes widened. "No, Molly stop!"
Molly paused. A low cat-moan came from Bastet's throat and Molly's hand continued its trajectory. The droplet of blood splattered onto the wooden box. The cat's head tracked it as it fell, as fast as a birds. She licked her chops and jumped off the box and out from under Molly's hand. Molly blinked as though just waking up, and watched the droplet soak into the wood, turn black, and disappear. A thin wisp of smoke curled up from the spot where the blood had soaked in. The other kids peered over Molly’s shoulder.
"That was weird," muttered Dana.
"Where did it go?" said Alfie.
"The wood's so old it soaked right in," suggested Teddy, frowning.
"Oh, what have you done?" Edgar breathed to himself, his hands clapping to the sides of his head. Not today. Not to Molly. But her blood had fallen. It was done. Edgar's heart became heavy with dread.
"Did you say something, Mister Catchpole?" Molly turned, dazed.
"No, no," Edgar said, folding his hands together with a measured calm. "But, I just remembered that this box is also part of the deal. It has to go with the books, uh, as well. I'm sorry I forgot." He shuffled toward the rough-hewn box more quickly than Molly had ever seen him move before. He bent and picked up the case and thrust it at Teddy, who took it involuntarily and staggered back with surprise.
"We don't want to take some creepy old casket," Alfie cried.
"Casket?" Dana looked at the wooden box, frowning.
"Well, pass it on then," said Edgar, opening the door and ushering the confused kids through it. A bitter wind blew the girls hair back. Edgar glanced up at the sky. "It looks like rain. Best be off. I have a mess to clean up, and you have class to get to." No one noticed Bastet slip out between the many sets of legs and disappear into the shadows of a nearby alley. The door of Catchpole's Bookshop slammed shut and the kids heard the bolt slide into place.
"That was weird," Teddy breathed, looking down at the three-foot wide box in his arms. "Is this really a casket? If it is it must have been for a baby."
"Cool, lets open it!" said Alfie, rubbing his hands together.
"Gross. You're such a creep." Dana shuddered. "Let's go. We can burn it at the schools bonfire next weekend."
"But we should look inside first," whined Alf, eyeballing the splinter-ridden box the way most would look at a porterhouse steak.
"No!" the rest of them yelled together.
"How's your hand, Moll?" Teddy asked, heaving the box up to get a better grip. It wasn't heavy, but it was awkward. Splinters poked at him through his corduroy jacket.
"Oh, fine," Molly answered, dreamily. She wasn't thinking about her hand just then. It did hurt, it stung like the devil, but for some reason all Molly could think of was the moment she'd reached for Bastet, the faint smell of spices, and the wave of attraction she'd felt to the animal.
"Let me see," said Dana. Molly held out her hand and Dana grimaced as fresh blood welled from the cut. Blood drained from Dana's face and she immediately regretted looking at it. "Mrs.Bailey is on duty today in the sick room, she can patch you up. She's got those nifty bandaids that work like a stitch. Does it hurt?"
Molly shook her head, lying.
"She's a tough one," said Teddy proudly. Molly smiled at him, warming him all over.
As the kids made their way the two blocks to school, a light rain began to fall and they picked up the pace.
Chapter 4
As the kids wound their way through the crowds of schoolchildren stuffing jackets into their lockers and retrieving books for class, Alf turned back to Molly. "Can I have my book now?"
"Nice timing, you scab." Dana rolled her eyes. "She's bleeding all over the place and all you can think of is your stupid book." The kids rounded a corner and into a quieter hallway, towards the school infirmary.
"What?” Alf protested with a shrug. “We made a deal. And didn't I say I wanted a book about Vlad the Impaler? And before we ever decided to visit Crazy Catchpole's bookstore? It's like destiny or something."
"You don't know that's what the book is about," said Dana.
They pushed through a swinging door and into a room with bench seating. Mrs.Bailey (the kids just called her Bailey), the school nurse wasn't behind the desk, but everyone knew she liked to read smutty novels in the sick room on days when there were no sick kids, which was nearly every day.
"Did you see that picture?” Alf continued. “Who else would it be about? Vlad was famous for sticking his victims on spikes to die." He held out his hand. "Lemme see it again, I'll tell you. I bet those words on the cover are Romanian."
Molly fished into her bag with her good hand. It was still hanging on Teddy's shoulder. She pulled out the cracked black book. She shoved it at Alf's chest. "Here's your book."
"You owe her six bucks," said Teddy, pointedly.
Ignoring Teddy, Alf cackled and found a seat on the bench. "We'll wait for you out here, Moll."
"As if you care about her," sniffed Dana. "You just want an excuse to skip class." She sat on the bench next to him, feigning disinterest with her words, but leaning toward Alf and peering into the book in spite of herself.
"I'll go in with you, Moll." Teddy smiled at her. He didn't even notice the weight of the box in his arms. Molly made him feel like a superhero, like he could lift a car if he had to.
"Thanks, Teddy. You're sweet." Molly and Teddy opened the door to the sick room.
The infirmary of Stonehill Collegiate was a dark and heavy space, just like most of the rest of the century old building. The hardwood floors gleamed from fresh wax and two squeaky metal beds with itchy wool blankets were mushed up against opposite walls. A couple of desks sat under a storage cabinet, for kids who wanted to attempt a bit of homework while they were recovering from a bloody nose or some other common kid ailment. Raindrops spattered the single tall window with the old paint-chipped water heater beneath it. The heater rumbled as the kids entered the room. A slender, greying woman sat at one of the desks.
Bailey stood up. "Oh! You kids startled me." She slipped a novel with a muscular bare-chested man on the cover into the desk. "What on earth have you got there?" Bailey grabbed the brass door handle and held the door open as Teddy walked in carrying the casket.
"Random box Mr.Catchpole gave us," said Teddy. He plonked it on the floor and kicked it against the wall and out of the way, not sure why he'd bothered to carry it so far. What had felt so light a second ago suddenly felt made of lead. "So weird," he muttered under his breath. "Where does he get this stuff?"
"Edgar Catchpole?” Bailey asked. “At the bookshop?"
Molly nodded. "I cut my hand. It was an accident."
Bailey put a friendly arm around Molly's shoulders. "Sit here, lovey." She gestured to one of the rickety beds. "What happened?"
"We broke a glass case when Alf accidentally tripped over Edgar's cat."
Teddy's heart melted at the word 'we'. Molly had never been a finger-pointer, not like most of the other kids he knew.
Molly held out her palm with the bloody tissue still stuck to the cut. "Will it need stitches?" Molly asked, her voice trembled only a little. The cut hurt worse now than when she'd first got it, even though the dreaminess she'd felt earlier still hadn't entirely gone away.
Bailey peeled the tissue back and
peered at the cut through the specs on the end of her nose. "I've got a butterfly bandage that will do the trick I think. But first we need to disinfect." She rummaged in the white aluminum shelving which had probably been there since before W.W.II. "I'm out of peroxide but I know there is some in the storage unit downstairs. Just sit tight and I'll be back in a joffy."
"You mean jiffy," Teddy looked up from where he was frowning down at the casket.
"Yes, jiffy. That's what I said." Bailey's voice trailed off as she left the room. Her footsteps faded away.
"Adults are so weird sometimes," Teddy said, sitting beside Molly.
"Teddy," Molly said, quietly.
"Yeah?" Teddy was ready to do anything she asked.
"Can I have my book?"
"Sure, Moll." He dug the remaining book out the bag and handed it to her. Molly took it but didn't open it. She just held it to her chest.
They sat listening to the rain spattering on the window. The light, already dim, darkened further, throwing the room into gloom.
Teddy placed a tentative arm around Molly's shoulders. It was on his lips to say 'You'll be alright, Mol', when the room took on a soft, warm glow. Teddy thought it was his imagination, that maybe this was his cue to try for a kiss.
But it wasn't time for kissing. Molly's eyes widened in terror. Teddy's head snapped to the casket. A yellow light streamed from the seams of the small wooden box, illuminating both kids faces.
"What the," Teddy cried out and leapt to his feet, his heart pounding. Molly sat rooted to the bed, unable to move. Her eyes were wide and unblinking.
Alf and Dana ran in through the open door, feet skittering on the hard wood.
"What's the matter... Whoa!" cried Dana. Her head tracked left to the unmistakeable light streaming from under the lid of the casket.
"Bloody hell!" Alfie cried.
The lid of the wooden box lifted slowly. The sound of a rusty nail being pried from old wood made the kids cringe and gasp. Dana clamped her hands over her ears.
