The Book of Dares for Lost Friends

by Jane Kelley

  “It isn’t here,” he said again. His voice cracked with emotion.

  He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He returned the vase to the crate, closed it up, and shoved it back in its place.

  Mau scratched the side of the bag of kibble.

  “Shh,” Tasman warned her again. He put his ear to the closet door. He heard nothing. But Mau wasn’t the least bit surprised when Tasman opened the door and discovered the Captain standing there.

  “What are you doing?” the Captain said.

  Tasman straightened himself up. He was actually as tall as the Captain, even though he never seemed to be.

  “I was searching for the…” He paused.

  “For what?” the Captain said.

  Mau looked at one and then the other. The humans didn’t usually stare at each other like this. As still and as silent as if they were cats. But they weren’t cats, of course, and so eventually they would return to the babble of conversation.

  The boy broke first. “I was searching for something I need.”

  “What?”

  “It’s just something I need. It isn’t important.”

  The Captain pushed Tasman aside and went into the closet. Mau followed and scratched again at the bag of food, even though she knew it was futile. The Captain pointed to the crate. “What were you doing in there?”

  “Aren’t they my things? Didn’t Grandfather send them with me when he told you to look after me?”

  “Yes, they’re yours. But they aren’t for you to muck around with. I’m keeping them in trust for you. I know the value. I know when to sell. You don’t know anything.”

  “I know more than you think,” Tasman muttered.

  “Don’t I give you what you need? Food, clothes, spending money. Don’t I pay you for the work you do? When you do it.”

  “I’m going to write the new catalogue entries.”

  The Captain folded his arms across his chest. “I know you took the amulet.”

  Tasman went back to his desk. “What amulet?”

  “The one you took! You think I don’t know what’s in my own shop? The blue faience one with the two crawling kids.”

  “Oh. That amulet.”

  “That amulet. That amulet.” The Captain mocked Tasman. He slammed the closet door shut. Mau had to jump quickly to save the tip of her tail.

  “How much did you get? You probably got cheated. Did you take it to that crook on the East Side?”

  “I didn’t sell it.” Tasman got out a pen and paper and started writing.

  “Didn’t sell it? Tarnation. Then why on earth would you steal it from me?”

  Tasman’s writing got more agitated until the pen slashes ripped the paper. “It’s all stolen, isn’t it? Everything in here, every vase, every book, every bead, every astrolabe, every bowl was stolen, wasn’t it?”

  “Bah.” The Captain waved his hand and leaned against his desk. “Don’t be getting all ethical on me.”

  Tasman threw down the pen and stomped over to the Captain. “Maybe that’s what happened to him. Did you ever think that? Maybe stealing the incantation bowl set the demons loose and caused all the trouble?”

  “There isn’t a bowl.” The Captain banged his fist against his desk. His nostrils flared as he struggled to breathe. When his face wasn’t quite so red, he waved his hand and sat down. “That’s just a story. Besides. We’re not talking about what I’ve got. We’re talking about what I don’t have. What you took.” He picked up a letter. “I got an order for that amulet. So you’d better give it back.”

  Tasman shook his head.

  “Blast you. Why not?”

  “I gave it to someone who needs it,” Tasman said.

  The Captain took hold of Tasman’s hand and peered sadly into the boy’s eyes. “You didn’t give it to him, did you?”

  “No!” Tasman jerked away and hurried back to his desk. “I gave it to Val.”

  “Who’s Val?”

  Tasman’s face reddened. He shut his notebook and held it close to his chest.

  “That girl who was here?” The Captain spluttered. “You could have given her one of the imitations. She wouldn’t know the difference.”

  “I know the difference,” Tasman said.

  “That’s what worries me. You’ve got a lot of nonsense in your head. If you start believing the things you write for the catalogue, you can get in a lot of trouble.”

  “I’m already in trouble,” Tasman muttered.

  “What?” the Captain said.

  Tasman picked up his pen and bent over his notebook.

  Mau sat outside the door to the closet, waiting patiently for food to appear in her dish and for all to be right with the world.

  Thirteen

  For over a month, black-and-white posters had haunted the bus stops. Young, beautiful people in beautiful, angular poses with no explanation of who or what they were—except that the letter Q, X, or R appeared somewhere in the photo. Then, on Sunday, a new clothing store opened up right around the corner from M.S. 10. It had a distinctive red sign with the initials QXR carelessly scrawled in black.

  Lanora hadn’t gone to the new store right away. She liked delaying gratification. She liked having power over everything—including her desires. But she expected that the A Team would want to go on Monday.

  All day she planned that shopping expedition. If they wanted her to get earrings, then she would get earrings.

  But the A Team had other plans for after school. They were going to a new program that April had told them about.

  “Too bad you don’t go to the école spéciale,” Alicia said.

  The members of the A Team made a small pout with their lips. The French called that expression a faire la moue. Lanora already knew what that meant—I’m not sorry even though I’ll pretend to be.

  “Who needs more school,” she said, knowing full well it wasn’t school. It was enjoying pastries and cafe au lait. It was learning French pronunciations that made even ordinary words like “chocolate” sound wonderful. It was Alicia, Ariel, Anna, and April riding off together in a big, black town car.

  Lanora headed in the opposite direction, without waiting to see if any of them would flick her fingers in farewell. She walked as if she were late for a very important appointment with a magazine editor who wanted Lanora’s ideas about what the next trend would be. The sound of her hard heels against the sidewalk ticked off the things that she no longer cared about.

  At the top of that list was the A Team.

  2. Being quizzed about her emotional state by her mom.

  3. Homework.

  4. Messages from her father about homework.

  5. The shoebox containing the Collection of Magical Devices.

  6. All her colorful clothes, including the black-and-yellow jacket, which had been stained by the sweat of humiliation on Saturday.

  Her list grew longer, not by addition but by multiplication. Her mind raced with more and more items she disdained.

  7. People walking slowly.

  8. People walking slowly pushing babies in strollers.

  9. Cute dogs with perky ears.

  10. Ugly dogs that were supposed to be cute.

  11. DON’T WALK signs.

  The only way to stop the list from exploding into exponents was to slam on the brakes and say “whatever.”

  Then there it was. QXR. The door was open. The store wanted her to come in. Music pulsed into the street. The lights gleamed. Window displays tempted her with new visions of herself. The intense air-conditioning promised a world without sweat.

  But she walked on by. She needed to prepare herself. She knew that if you wanted something desperately, you wouldn’t get it. She had observed that the more her mom begged her father, the faster he ran away. The A Team hadn’t taught Lanora anything she didn’t already know.

  She paused in front of another store. She checked her hair in the window that was as good as a mirror. She saw something worse than a straggling curl; she saw
Val standing on the opposite side of Broadway. Val stared at Lanora like Val was trying to solve an algebra problem. Give it up, Lanora wanted to tell her. You’ll never understand. You don’t want things the way I want things. You don’t need to.

  Lanora hardened her face and retraced her steps. She wasn’t going to speak to Val. She wouldn’t even look at her. Not even if a lion escaped from the zoo and snatched Val up in his mouth. Lanora added Val to the list of things she no longer cared about.

  The door to QXR was open. Lanora crossed the threshold and entered a new world. Her heart pounded with excitement. But she sidled over to a rack of uninspiring jeans. She flipped through them with one hand, even as her mind danced around all the dazzling possibilities.

  What should she choose? Leather bags. Golden jewelry. Shimmering silks. She had to decide quickly. Hesitation would bring the unwelcome attention of a clerk. Lanora moved on from the jeans. She passed a table of small stuffed animals. She smiled as she stroked a little black cat. The plush fur was almost as comforting as a real animal’s. She let her hand linger while she planned what to do. The task wasn’t difficult. She had seen the A Team succeed many times. She just wanted to choose the right item. It would belong to her forever.

  * * *

  Val wondered why Lanora had walked into the store with her jaw set, like she was going into battle. Val had hoped Lanora would be proud of herself for dumping the A Team. Val wanted to rush up to her and cheer, Yay, you did it! You broke your spell!

  Only Val couldn’t after Lanora disappeared inside the new store.

  When had it opened? Had it sprung up overnight? For nearly a year, Val had seen the GOING OUT OF BUSINESS signs in the funny little shops. Pet food, candles, what was the other one? Val couldn’t remember. All had vanished, despite her mom attending community meetings and signing petitions and even threatening to chain herself to the door of the candle shop.

  Val wasn’t exactly forbidden to go inside QXR. Just like Val wasn’t exactly forbidden to shave her head. Her mom just assumed that she wouldn’t want to. And Val didn’t. She only wanted to talk to Lanora. She wasn’t dumb enough to think that Lanora was the good old Lanora just because Lanora was no longer friends with the A Team. But Lanora might have wanted to know that the school janitor kept a pet snail in a coffee cup. Or that Drew had decided that he was left-handed. Or about this strange boy Tasman who also knew Mau.

  Val took a deep breath, as if she were about to dive into the ocean, and entered. Immediately she was assaulted by frigid air, loud mechanical music and glaring lights. She stopped just past the security guard. Where was Lanora? Val couldn’t tell. Versions of the new Lanora were everywhere. The girls scrutinizing the clothes on the racks. The mannequins stuck to the walls. The shop clerks leaning against the counters.

  One sidled over to Val and said, “Can I help you?”

  Val knew she meant the opposite. “Can I help you?” meant “I can’t help you.” Meant “I won’t help you.” “You are beyond help.”

  Well, Val was in her baggy shorts and her Pelé T-shirt. Her running shoes were scuffed. Her only jewelry was a collection of strings that Drew had tied around her wrist that morning as he told her about his string theory. The real one, not the astronomical one their dad tried to explain at dinner last night.

  “Can I help you?” the clerk said again.

  “No,” Val said.

  The clerk raised her eyebrows and slouched back to one of the other clerks. They whispered to each other.

  Val stuck her hand in her pocket. The amulet Tasman had given her was still there. She traced its indentation with her finger. Should she give it to Lanora? Would Lanora want it? Its powers seemed overwhelmed by everything else in this store.

  Then Val spotted Lanora standing by a jewelry display. Lanora seemed mesmerized by the glitter. Gold and silver deflected the light like a multitude of little mirrors. Lanora touched an earring with her index finger. When it spun, it sent a shiver of light. Then she stopped that motion by clutching the disk in her fist. She seemed to struggle against a desire. But what kind? Why didn’t she let go of the earring? Was she going to take it?

  “Lanora, don’t!” Val’s voice was louder than the electronic drumbeats.

  Lanora dropped the earring and quickly moved away from the spot. She wasn’t fast enough to escape the attention of the security guard and the store manager.

  They surrounded Lanora and pushed her back against a table piled high with precisely folded T-shirts.

  “What’s in your bag?” the guard said.

  Val picked up the gold disk and brought it over to show the guard. “Here’s the earring. She didn’t put it in her bag. She just dropped it.” Val was so happy that she had saved her friend from a terrible fate.

  The manager stuck her hand inside Lanora’s book bag. The manager smiled as she pulled out a fuzzy black cat wearing the store’s distinctive red tag with the QXR scrawl.

  “You’d better come with us,” the manager said.

  Val watched in horror as the guard dragged Lanora to the back of the store. The manager carried the cat by its tail.

  Lanora didn’t look at Val. Not once. Val didn’t think Lanora would ever look at her again.

  Fourteen

  Val waited outside the store. At any moment she expected Lanora to come out, laughing because it was all a big mistake. The toy cat had fallen into her bag by accident. What a funny joke.

  Only Lanora didn’t come out. Lanora’s mom rushed in. Still, Val managed to keep hoping that everything would be okay until she saw a policewoman march into the store. Then Val slowly went home.

  Drew tackled her the minute she came in the apartment. “You are my prisoner. I’m taking you to my secret lair so you can do my boring homework sheet while I save the world, or at least the parts I like.”

  He tried to lift her. Usually she stood on her tiptoes so that he could feel as if he had succeeded. Her body felt too heavy to move. Like she had been encased in cement so her head wouldn’t explode. It throbbed with everything she was trying not to think.

  What had happened? She had been at the store. She had seen Lanora. Val had seen the little toy cat. And yet she still didn’t know.

  Drew let go of her. He poked her in all her ticklish places—including the one behind her left knee. She didn’t laugh. He frowned. He dragged over a chair and climbed up so he could peer in her eyes.

  “Aha! It’s as I suspected. You are not my sister Valerie Braun. You were not born on April 23rd. You do not live at 255 West 83rd Street. You are an impostor!”

  He ran into his room and came out with a plastic sword. He pointed the blade at her neck. “Tell me what you’ve done with my sister or I’ll cut off your head.”

  “Go ahead.” Val was happy to be punished for something.

  Drew’s eyes widened. Then he dropped the sword and ran into the kitchen. “Mommy, something’s wrong with Val!”

  Mom came out holding a wooden spoon in one hand with the other cupped beneath it to catch the red drips. “Don’t you feel good?”

  No, Val wanted to cry. She wanted to bury her face in her mom’s soft sweater and tell her everything. But what could Val say? Wasn’t it tattling to say Lanora had stolen the cat? Even if it wasn’t, could Val say how she knew this? Worst of all, how could she ever explain that she was the reason Lanora got caught? Val couldn’t. She could only shrug.

  Drew raced into his room and raced back out carrying his doctor’s kit—a big, black satchel with bottles containing eyes of newts, fish teeth, and other potions so powerful that they could change into whatever he decided he needed them to be.

  “I, the great Hyper Condriack, will cure you. Open your mouth and take these pills.”

  He tried to stick his finger into her mouth. But she had to keep her lips pressed together. She couldn’t let her little brother see her cry. She pushed him away and walked into her room. Even with the door shut, she could hear their voices.

  “Mommy, why won’t s
he let me doctor her?”

  “Maybe you should help me cook instead.”

  “This is no time for food. I have to cure Val.”

  “She’s pretty resourceful. I think she can cure herself. Come on. You can add the spices.”

  “Okay. If I can use some of my superpotions.”

  “Use whatever you want, so long as it’s basil and oregano.”

  Val took the amulet out of her pocket. She turned it over and over in her hand. No matter which way she looked at it, the children inscribed in the circle still crawled off in opposite directions.

  * * *

  Drew set the table. The dishes were sort of in the right spots. But he had dumped the silverware in a heap in the center next to a dish of frozen peas.

  “What’s that?” Dad said, pointing at the peas.

  “A center peas. Get it? Get it?” Drew said to Val.

  “I get it.” Val tentatively took one bite. Then she put down her fork and sighed.

  “Is there something wrong with the zucchini?” Mom said.

  “Yes! They are vegetables! Get it? Get it?” Drew said.

  “Who wound you up?” Dad said.

  “Val,” Drew said.

  “No, I didn’t,” Val said.

  “Yes, you did. You’re so quiet, I have to make four times as much noise as I usually do.”

  Dad laughed. Mom did too, but only for a moment. Then she said to Drew, “Why don’t you tell us what happened at school?”

  “You mean at superhero academy?” Drew said.

  “Yes,” Mom said.

  Val kept her head down as if she were eating.

  “Since most of the time we are learning things I already know, like reading and writing, I get to spend my time practicing my powers.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good thing?” Dad said.

  “Oh, yes. Powers come in very handy. When you least expect it. Like now, for instance. At our very own dinner table. When you might think I could be relaxing and eating my dinner, instead I am having to use my special power of resbo-noitva.”