by Jeff Strand
“Okay, it’s a groove. You’ve got a big groove in your leg. If you didn’t want to walk into the store, I’d totally understand. I wouldn’t want to walk in there either in your condition. I was paying you a compliment by saying that you would want to walk in there even though you got shot in the leg. When you said you didn’t need to go to the hospital, I was impressed! I thought, wow! I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of that kind of devotion.”
I stared at him. “I think that is the most babbling I’ve ever heard a person do. It’s like every sentence you say gets more and more desperate. What’s wrong with you?”
“Please don’t make me go in there.”
“You’re coming with us.” I opened the car door. “If you try to run, I swear, hurt foot or not, I will take you down.”
Adam sadly opened the driver’s side door and got out of the cab. Kelley and I got out as well. I held the voodoo doll very carefully, because losing it with six or seven steps to go to our destination would be beyond lame.
I had no idea what was going on with Adam, but I couldn’t help but suspect that there was some sort of unpleasant revelation awaiting us when we entered the store.
We pushed open the door. A small bell above the door tinkled. The shop was very tiny, consisting of little but two long display cases of jewelry. Behind the counter was a beaded curtain. The place smelled like incense mixed with mildew mixed with Lysol mixed with a cheeseburger that should have been eaten much sooner than now.
“We’re closed,” said a voice that sounded like it belonged to the oldest, croakiest, phlegmiest woman in the world. It came from behind the curtain.
“My name is Kelley,” said Kelley. “I called earlier.”
The woman pushed through the beaded curtain. She was dressed entirely in black, except for her immense amount of gaudy jewelry. She looked about eighty years younger than she sounded, meaning she looked about forty.
“You called about the doll?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, where have you been for crying out loud? Do you think I have nothing better to do than stand around all night waiting for you? You said you’d be right over! This wasn’t right over!” “We’re sorry.”
“You’re lucky Gordon Ramsay isn’t on tonight, or you’d be out of luck. So you’ve got a doll problem, huh?”
“Yes. Like I said on the phone, you sold our friend a voodoo doll, and we need its power taken away.”
“Voodoo?”
“Voodoo.”
The woman snorted. “Calling my practice voodoo is an insult to true Haitian Vodou. This has nothing to do with the supreme god Bondye, nor are there any loa involved, and I’m as much of a mambo as you are a member of the Blue Man Group. Even if we extended the definition to include New Orleans voodoo, where’s the Legba? Where’s the gris-gris? Why don’t you do a little research?”
Kelley remained calm, though it was clearly not easy. “Do you sell dolls that are like what somebody would call a voodoo doll?”
“On occasion. Maybe. Touristy stuff. Who wants to know?”
“I do.”
“I don’t know who you are. My eyesight is terrible. I literally can’t see more than six inches in front of my face. Come up real close and state your business.”
The three of us looked at each other. Well, Kelley and I did. Adam was looking at the floor.
Do you think she can hurt us? I mouthed to Kelley.
She seems harmless, Kelley mouthed back.
What if there’s a trapdoor? I mouthed.
Kelley shrugged. I think we have to trust her.
I mouthed back something that would have been blurred on television.
What else were we supposed to do? We couldn’t just walk out of the place and hope that we happened to stumble upon some other lady who could deactivate a voodoo doll. We had to trust that this woman was not going to whack off our heads with a machete.
Despite all of the homicidal people we’d encountered, I wasn’t getting a I’m gonna kill you vibe from this woman. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she said, “Come closer. closer. closer. cloooooossssssseeeeerrrrrr,” and then when we were only a couple of inches away went “BOO!!!” but I didn’t think she’d try to slay us.
We walked up to the counter.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she pointed at the side of my head. “Holy cow, kid, your ear is pulped! Why aren’t you at a hospital?”
“We need your help first,” I said.
“Are you crazy? You can’t be walking around with your ear like that! You need medical attention! At least put some ice on it for Pete’s sake!”
“It’s fine,” I assured her.
“Are you not seeing the same thing I’m seeing?” The woman turned to leave. “I’m calling an ambulance!”
“No! Please! We really need your help.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Yes. Bad.” I set the doll on the counter. “Please, whatever you did to this, I need you to undo.”
The woman turned back around and inspected the doll. “I didn’t do anything to that.”
I bit down on the sides of my mouth to keep from screaming in frustration. Was it really so much to ask to have one, just one conversation tonight that didn’t make me want to rip out every single piece of hair on my head and then paint over my scalp so that new hair couldn’t grow back in its place?
(Yes, that’s the exact thought I had at the time.)
The beaded curtain rustled, and another woman pushed her way through. She was dressed in similar black clothing and wore similar gaudy jewelry but looked like she could be the other woman’s great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.
“Who do you speak to?” she asked, her voice raspy but otherwise pleasant. Her face lit up as she looked past us. “It is he!” “Who?” I asked. I glanced back at Adam. “Him?”
She ignored my question and picked up the voodoo doll. “Ah, yes. The doll I make.” She tapped the side of its head. “It hurt your ear, yes?”
“Yes!”
“Good, good.”
“No, not good. It also killed two of my toes.”
“Yes. Very powerful magic. Very powerful.”
“We want the magic gone,” I said. “It’s too powerful. I don’t like having a doll that can do this to me. You made it too strong.” The woman smiled. “My magic very small,” she said, holding her index finger and thumb a tiny bit apart. Then she pointed at Adam. “His magic huge.” She threw her hands apart, miming an explosion. “Kaboom!”
“What?” I asked.
Adam continued to stare at the floor.
“He add to power of doll. Make it super-magical. He Chosen One.”
“ What?”
“He Adam Westell, who will stop conquest of the hobgoblins.” “Ma’am, I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” I said, “but he’s not the Chosen One. He’s a dork.”
The woman glared at me. “You regret harsh words when hobgoblins gnaw on your bones! They suck out marrow! They dine upon kidneys! He will save world! He come in asking for doll of teacher. I, Esmeralda, give him doll of teacher. His magic make my magic stronger. I see what it do on television. Teacher leg come off. He come back in and ask for doll of you. I not want to make doll, but not want to piss off Chosen One. Want to be on savior of humanity’s good side. Make doll. It work good, yes?” “What makes you think he’s the savior of humanity?” asked Kelley. The idea did not seem to enthuse her.
“Look like him.”
“Okay.”
“I give him doll for eighty dollars. Not tell him he Chosen One, and he not ask why he get such good deal. Take Chosen One blood to make very powerful syrup. He come back, wanting new doll. I tell him destiny. Give him complimentary doll. You so smart, you doubt status as Chosen One, then explain to me extreme doll power?” Esmeralda had a point about the doll, but the concept of Adam saving the world was going to take me a few decades to process.
“I cast spell of protection. Slight dimension
al shift. Things not normal. Safer.”
“Safer?” I asked. “We were anything but safe tonight!”
“You go into bad neighborhood. Without spell of protection, you dead in thirty seconds. Spell not work perfect, maybe cause some strange things to happen, but overall, safer.”
“This is insane.”
“Keep blood from coming out as fast. You still alive, yes?” “Can you remove its power?” I asked. “The Chosen One doesn’t want any more of my body parts to fly off.”
“You sarcastic,” said Esmeralda. “I should kick doll across room.” “No, no, no, I apologize. I’ve known Adam for a long time, and I never really thought of him in that way, but every flower needs to bloom, I guess. I feel protected from the hobgoblins already.” “We promise to worship Adam as much as you want,” said Kelley. “But please, can you take away the doll’s power?” “Chosen One must ask.”
Adam walked over to the counter. “It would be really cool if you’d turn it back into a regular doll.”
“So I shall. Simple spell. Take fifteen, twenty seconds at most.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Spell do require sixteen inches ofintestine from afflicted party.” “I beg your pardon?”
“Lower intestine, though. Not big deal. Large intestine removal hurt, but you no miss lower intestine much.”
“I hope you’re kidding,” I said.
Esmeralda nodded. “Yes. Gypsy magic not humorless. Recite words, wave hands, spell over. My daughter’s role entirely with mind. Easy spell.”
“Thank God.”
“All I need is original doll and original victim.”
“Excuse me?”
“First doll.” She held up my doll. “This second doll. Need both to remove spell.”
“We didn’t bring the other doll,” I said. “It’s at my house.” “Pity.”
I closed my eyes and took several deep, calming, soothing breaths. When I opened my eyes again, my life still sucked. “Okay. We’ll get the other doll. I guess it was silly for us to think that we wouldn’t have further need of the doll after Mr. Click’s neck got broken.”
“Sarcasm again. I impale doll on car antenna.”
“I apologize again.” I rubbed my forehead to ease the oncoming headache and tried to convince myself that this was no big deal. “This is no big deal,” I said. “No big deal at all. I know exactly where the doll is, and we’ll just go get it, bring it back, and.. .did you say first victim?”
“Yes.”
“You mean my history teacher?”
“Yes.”
“You need us to bring you Mr. Click?”
“Yes. Tall order, admittedly.”
“Why didn’t your daughter tell me any of this on the phone?” Kelley asked.
“She not phone person. Too impersonal. She not fan of texting either. I think is good. Have skilled thumbs.”
“Great.”
“You not first teenagers to steal dead body. Pose as medical students. Girl distract security guard with beauty. Put history teacher on gurney and cover with sheet. Look like you know what you doing when you wheel gurney to exit. Nobody stop you.” “He’s not in the morgue anymore,” I said. “He came after us! Came after Adam, actually.”
Esmeralda frowned. “That interesting.”
“His leg was back on, and he was running around, and he kept trying to strangle Adam!”
“He probably have unfinished business. Like I say, my spell make strange things happen. This odd side effect. Not easy for cadaver to escape morgue and hospital and run down streets of city, chasing after victim without attracting attention. Kudos to Chosen One’s natural ability to enhance spell.”
“He’s in the sewer,” I said.
“Why he look for Adam in sewer?”
“No, we put him there.”
“Disrespectful to educator.”
“He was trying to strangle the Chosen One,” I said. “What else were we supposed to do?”
“Maybe he not trying to strangle. Maybe he trying to hug Chosen One’s neck.”
“Are you kidding again?” I asked.
“Yes. I make jolly.”
“So what you’re saying is that we have to drag Mr. Click out of the sewer and bring him back here.”
“That basic gist, yes. But that easier than original morgue plan, so when you think about it, living dead teacher good thing. Go. We care for doll while you gone. Not let monkeys steal it. We do spell when you return.”
The other woman, who’d said nothing since Esmeralda came out and, now that I think of it, had kind of looked like she was in a trance the entire time, blinked. “When they return?”
“Yes. When they. ..oh no.”
“I thought we were starting now.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. I thought these kids would appreciate that I went ahead and got started. And when I go into the dazed state, I don’t really hear anything.”
Esmeralda returned her attention to me. “Small problem that I think you no like,” she said. “Spell already in progress. My sister not aware of complications involving other doll and first victim that we discuss earlier. You now have, how you say, ticking clock.”
“What kind of ticking clock?”
The younger woman took over. “Think of it as being like the alarm clock you use to wake yourself up in the morning to go to school. Except that instead of making a beeping sound, it causes your body to incinerate from the inside out and banishes your soul to hell.”
“I.. .would not enjoy that alarm,” I said.
“Maybe it’s not specifically hell. Someplace very similar, though. Lakes of fire for sure.”
“I don’t want to be rude,” I said, wanting very much to be rude, “but if the risk of hellfire was involved, do you think maybe you could have verified that it was time to start the spell beforehand?” “Most people who seek enchanted objects actually want them to do what they’re supposed to. We don’t get a high return rate. I empathize with your plight, but it’s not my fault that you dabbled in the dark arts without being ready to commit.”
I said, “I didn’t—” and then decided that I should stop talking. My sense of moral outrage at their poor customer service had to take a backseat to the race against time to avoid internal incineration.
“How long do we have?” Kelley asked.
“From when I started the spell? About an hour and a half. So let’s say ninety minutes minus a couple of minutes. I’ve never been one to interfere in other people’s business, but my recommenda- tion—and it’s only a recommendation—is that you get moving.”
CHAPTER 26
To demonstrate how much time was of the essence, I’m going to skip the part where we exchanged a few more lines of dialogue, left Esmeralda’s House of Jewelry, had a wacky misadventure where we couldn’t find the keys to the taxi, fought a bird (long story), got the cab in motion, discussed whether we should try to retrieve Mr. Click or the other doll first, decided on Mr. Click in a surprisingly unanimous decision, and drove toward the manhole where we would hopefully still find our history teacher.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked Adam.
“Tell you what?”
“That you got the voodoo doll for free because they think you’re the Chosen One! We asked if you were keeping something from us. You said no. We asked again. You said no. We knew you were lying. Do you know how embarrassing it is to hear about this from a stranger?”
“I don’t want to be the Chosen One,” said Adam. “I mean, I don’t even want to be a hall monitor, so how can I be responsible for saving humanity?”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, she’s clearly a raving lunatic.”
“I don’t know. I’ve always felt like I was meant for something important, something historic, but I thought maybe I’d become a famous singer or something. Remember that one song I wrote, where I tapped spoons on glasses? That was kind of catchy, right?”
“I don’t remember it.”
&nbs
p; “It went ‘La, la, la, tra la la, le la...’ You really don’t remember that? Oh well. Either way, I don’t think Esmeralda is wrong about this.”
“Oh, she’s wrong.”
“Stop being so blind, Tyler,” said Kelley. “Nothing tonight can be explained by science. I tried, and I finally gave up. Obviously, Adam does impact magic in strange and unusual ways, and it’s clearly his destiny to save us from the frickin’ hobgoblins.”
“All right, I was headed in that direction too. I was mostly arguing on your behalf.”
“Do you think I should change my hair?” asked Adam.
“As the Chosen One, I’d think that you decide what is fashionable,” I said. “So wear your hair however you want.”
“I guess you’re right. I wish somebody else was chosen. We should have asked to read the prophecies.. .maybe they say if you live through tonight or not.”
“We’ll find out soon.” I was trying not to think about my potential fate. Despite living in Florida, I’d always been more of a cold weather guy, and I could never get behind the idea of eternal torment. I mean, by the fourth or fifth century of being endlessly hacked apart by rusty sabers, you’d be bored out of your mind.
Yeah, I’ll admit it: I was terrified. No shame in that, right? “Hey, there’s that pay phone that I thought was the other pay phone,” said Adam. “We’re getting close.”
I tried once again to maintain a positive attitude. Everything would be fine. Mr. Click had not been caught in a river of sewage and washed out into the ocean. His body had not been devoured by rats, forcing us to round up all of the individual rats that had him in their bellies. He had not sprouted tentacles and pulled himself miles away.
He’d be exactly where we left him. Perhaps gift-wrapped. “Do you remember which one it was?” I asked.
Adam looked panicked. “Was I supposed to?”
“No,” I said, sparing us the necessity of another madcap misadventure where we drove around in circles trying to find the right manhole cover. “It’s a couple of blocks away.”
The streets were still empty. This was good because we were about to do something that many people might find morally questionable but also bad because in our injured conditions it would’ve been nice to be able to say, “Hey, anybody wanna join us for a zombie-wrangling party?”
