Friday Nightmares

by Corey Edward

  “Yes, they were,” she replied. “If I hadn’t run, my ears would have.”

  “They weren’t performing in Broomsetter’s class when you ran out yesterday and got attacked by that Mimik.”

  “No. They weren’t.”

  “There’s something big you aren’t telling me. I don’t want to force you to tell me what it is, but I can help if you’re in trouble.”

  “How can you say that when you don’t know just how much trouble I’m in?

  “I’m a Candle wizard. Trouble’s in our blood.”

  “It’s way more complicated than that, though. It has to do with why I got kicked out of Miskatonic Academy.”

  “What happened?”

  “If I tell you the story, you have to promise not to judge me.”

  “I would never judge you, Molly. I swear.”

  “You might after you hear what I’ve done. Tell me, Henry. Do you know what a Grinner is?”

  “Do I want to know?”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a green tome that I instantly recognized as The Dictionary Infernal. Her copy wasn’t as wartorn as Dad’s, but it had still seen some tough love over the years. She opened to a page she’d earmarked and passed it off to me.

  Like all artwork in the Dictionary Infernal, the illustration that lay before me was ornate and haunting at the same time. The Darkon, known as the Grinner, was rendered in all its fiendish glory as a black shape with only one defining feature: a toothy, malevolent grin. That grin was wide enough that it transcended the boundaries of the natural and became something otherworldly.

  “The Grinner,” I read. “This foul demon is often found lurking at crossroads during the Witching Hour, waiting to trap the soul of an unlucky traveler in a sinister bargain. Upon finding one, it will attempt to make a bargain with the traveler: their deepest, darkest wish fulfilled in exchange for their soul. If the traveler smiles at any point during the transaction, it will consider the bargain struck and will return to claim their soul at a later date. For every soul it claims, the Grinner’s disturbing smile gains one tooth. The largest Grinner known is said to have over one thousand rows of teeth, so many that they barely fit inside its lips.”

  I had read enough to know what Molly was dealing with. I handed the tome back to her and struggled to break the silence between us. What sort of deal had she brokered with this repulsive beast from the bowels of the Nether Realm? And what dark desperation had led her to seek it out in the first place?

  “Great Merlin,” I said after a couple of seconds. “Is this what’s coming after you?”

  “Yes. And it won’t stop until it gets what it wants.”

  “Which is?”

  “My soul.”

  “Why does it want your soul?” I couldn’t think of a worse thing to owe a Darkon. Souls were their favorite delicacy, and they’d do whatever it took to get their claws on one.

  “I had a Familiar once, too,” she said softly. “A tabby cat named Saru. And she… well, she was my everything, until she passed away.”

  Right away, I understood where this was going. The bond between a Spellcrafter and their Familiar was as strong as the bond between mother and child. Losing Rusty would be even worse than the pain of losing a pet. It’d be like losing my entire heart.

  “Oh, God, Molly,” I said. “I’m so sorry. If I lost Rusty… ”

  “You’d be broken in half,” she continued. “And I was. Saru was my only friend, and got me through every tough spot I found myself in.

  “But then one day last year, she started to get sick. She stopped using her litter box and couldn’t hold down her food. She didn’t even want to play with her toy mouse anymore, and she loved that thing. I took her to a healer who told me she had cancer, and that there was nothing she could do for her. Magic can’t cure cancer — not for mortals and not for animals, either.

  “She lasted two months after that. She died on my lap one night while I was doing my homework. I knew it was coming, even if I didn’t want to believe it at the time. The pain was like nothing else I’d ever experienced. She meant the whole world to me, and now I was all alone. I was flipping through the Dictionary Infernal one day when I came across that page about the Grinner.”

  “And you thought it could bring Saru back to you.”

  She nodded. “I knew I was meddling around in evil magic, the same kind that Darkcrafters used when they practiced their black arts, but I didn’t care. I was desperate. I walked over to a crossroads in an empty part of Boston and stood there at midnight, waiting. That’s when the Grinner appeared: first, its smile, then its eyes. I didn’t even have to tell it why I was there. It just knew. It told me it could bring Saru back from the grave in exchange for my soul. I smiled at the thought of having her back and the Grinner sealed the deal. That smile bound me and the Grinner together forever. My soul belongs to it.”

  “No. Your soul belongs to you.”

  “If only it was that easy. Grinners always collect their due, especially if they feel they upheld their part of the bargain.” She sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I went back to my dorm room and set my purse on my bed, ready to settle in for the night. I was removing my makeup when the bag jumped off of my comforter and landed on the ground. I screamed and nearly ran out of the room, but then it moved across the floor toward Saru’s old mouse and began to play with it as if the straps were its paws. That’s when I realized what happened. The Grinner brought her back, all right- by trapping her soul in my purse.”

  I looked at the bag; she cradled in her arms the way one would hold a cat. I had wondered what spell she’d cast to make it so animated, but I understood now. It wasn’t a spell. The poor thing actually was alive, in a sense.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Molly,” I said. “At least she’s back, even if in an unexpected way.”

  “Saru’s still Saru, purse or cat. And don’t get me wrong… I’m happy I have her back. And it is kind of nice that I can get away with taking her everywhere, too. But this isn’t what I wanted. I was just getting used to the idea of having a cat-purse when the grins started.”

  “The grins?”

  “The first one came when I was in my Alchemy class. I was brewing an anti-anxiety potion and found the ingredients rearranged in a perfect smile in front of my face, though they weren’t like that only seconds before. The next grin appeared a few days later, when I woke up in the middle of the night to see a white mouth grinning at me through the window. I knew it meant the Grinner was watching me, letting me know I had to keep up my side of the bargain. I started drawing protection Sigils almost obsessively, hanging them up wherever I could and shoving them into Saru, hoping it would keep the Grinner at bay. But it was no use. When you make a deal with a Grinner, you never know when it’ll come to claim its due. It could be in five days, or it could be in fifty years. But one day, it will come- and I think that day might be soon.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I summoned it up and asked it.”

  “You summoned it? How?”

  “I used a dark magic ritual that I found in a spell book. All I needed to do was draw an Anti-Sigil on the ground, light a few candles and offer up some blood. I performed the ritual during the weekend, when my roommate was gone. The Grinner appeared there in the center of the Anti-Sigil, just floating there in front of me, grinning. I told it that the bargain was off since it didn’t actually bring Saru’s body back again. But it disagreed. It said it promised to bring her back, but it didn’t say how. Therefore, its claim on my soul was still valid, and it would come to take it before the years’ end. And that’s when my roommate walked in on me, conversing with the Grinner. She ran out of the dorm room and told a teacher before I could stop her. I was expelled the next day for communing with Darkon. They didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself.”

  “That’s not fair,” I said. “None of it is. You never even technically agreed to a deal with the Grinner in the first place. You just smile
d.”

  “Darkon don’t care about fairness. They care about souls. And mine is forfeit.”

  “No, it’s not. I won’t let it take you, Molly. I promise.”

  The door swung open and Enisa looked out at us.

  “Hey, guys,” she said. “Frankie’s band is coming on soon. Everything okay?”

  “It will be,” I said. Enisa raised an eyebrow as if expecting further elaboration, but I didn’t provide it. I could fill Enisa in on the Grinner drama later. Right now, I just wanted to have a good time with my friends while I still could, before I had to stop being Henry the human and start being Henry, the wizard.

  We ventured back into the cafe, where the lights had dimmed and the butchery of Journey was over at last. I kept close to Molly the entire time, vigilant for signs of grinning Darkon waiting to snatch her soul.

  The curtain raised to reveal Frankie, Ernesto, and Thomas, instruments in hand. Seeing Frankie up there felt almost surreal at times like I couldn’t believe this was the same kid who I knew before he could even strum a single string.

  He stepped up to the mic and spoke. He’d been nominated the unofficial frontman of the group since the other two were too afraid to talk in front of crowds, and he ate up the role. He was loud where Enisa and I were quiet.

  “How’s it going tonight, ghouls and gals?” he called, holding his guitar like a mother with a baby. “Our band’s called Monsters & Meatloaf. We’re the monsters and you’re the meatloaf. This first song is What’s Left of You. Enjoy.”

  Then, they played, Frankie strumming away at his guitar with the magical pick while Ernesto banged the drums (like a buttmonkey) and Thomas sang (like a nursing home patient). What they lacked in talent they made up for in magical deception: they were music to my ears, with not a single note out of tune or pitch misplaced.

  Did I do the right thing for my friend? Was I helping him, or was I crippling him? Was faking your way to the top truly better than being stuck at a dead-end job for the rest of your life?

  And if magic left me, would success leave him?

  Molly was unsettled for a while, but she eventually recovered, losing herself in the music as she held Saru the purse close. Truth be told, I didn’t know whether I could help her. But I could try. I had helped Tiffany and Frankie, and that meant I might be able to help Molly, too.

  Maybe I was better at this paranormal investigation business than I thought. After I found out what happened to my father, perhaps I could find a way to make it work- but in my own way, on my own terms. So many people think being a man means conforming to some unwritten code of rules and regulations and living a life without any deviation from them. But maybe being a man really meant writing your own code and living by it in your own way, free from shame.

  Frankie wrapped up his first song and took a bow with his bandmates. Enisa and I jumped to our feet and started a round of applause, which continued until he launched into the next song. This one was loud enough that I didn’t even hear the door to the cafe open until I turned and saw the Girlicane come walking in.

  Sophie Crane, Bailey Simpson and Jade Harris were dressed more for clubbing than a cafe, with tight dresses, mile-high heels and luscious red lipstick. Together they looked around the cafe, scanning the crowd of customers like hunters on the prowl for game. Sophie herself locked eyes with me and smirked, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. I didn’t know whether the gesture was meant to impress or scare me. Maybe both.

  “Oh, God,” Enisa said, turning her face down toward her coffee. “What are they doing here? I thought this was a popular-kid-free zone.”

  “Nothing good,” I said. “But don’t worry. I won’t let them hurt you.”

  It was a promise I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep as they strutted our way and sat down at the empty table beside us. They were grossly out-of-place in the cafe, surrounded by artsy hipsters and goth kids, but they didn’t seem to care. It was just one more conquest for the Girlicane.

  Purses unzipped and phones slid out, which they pointed toward the stage as if meaning to record the band. It was odd, but they weren’t hurting us, so we decided to ignore them and carry on our conversation.

  When the first straw wrapper came shooting at Enisa, I thought it might be a mistake. When the second one whizzed over her shoulder and landed in her coffee, I realized it was intentional. I wheeled around just in time to see Bailey quickly look the other way, dipping her own unwrapped straw into her iced latte.

  “What the hell is their problem?” asked Molly, loud enough for them to hear. “I swear, I’m going to turn those bitches into some-”

  “Shh,” Enisa said, pressing her finger in front of her lips. “I don’t want any trouble. Not tonight.”

  “No, but they clearly do,” I said. I passed Rusty off to Enisa, climbed to my feet and made my way over to their table.

  I knew what I wanted to say, but none of them would be in a position to hear it- and, in fact, my words might even make things worse for Enisa. Therefore, I decided to try a different, more diplomatic approach. Maybe I could appeal to their sense of decency, if they even had one.

  I pulled out a chair and sat down while Jade curled a strand of black hair around a finger and Bailey furrowed her brow at me. Sophie, meanwhile, glared at me as if I were an alien who had crash-landed right in the middle of her coffee.

  “Hey there, pug boy,” Sophie said. “How can I help you?”

  “You can help by answering my question,” I said. “Why do you keep doing this to Enisa?”

  “Doing… what?”

  “You know what.”

  “Uh, no, actually. I don’t.”

  “Bullying her.”

  “Bullying?” She laughed. “Please. That word is so overused these days. People say they’re being bullied because someone looked at them funny or violated their precious little ‘safe space’.”

  “Triggered,” added Jade and all three of them chuckled.

  “I know you put the Fisher twins up to planting that smoke bomb in her locker the other day.”

  “Smoke bomb? I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do. Everyone knows those two are your brainless little minions.”

  “I can’t take responsibility for what others choose to do on their own time.”

  “That’s beside the point. The smoke bomb is just the beginning of what you do to torment Enisa. There’s the memes you made about her on Instagram. The time you sprinkled bacon bits on her seat in Math class when she wasn’t looking. The prank calls at one in the morning. Need I go on? No. You three are bullies and I am not having it anymore.”

  I pounded my fist on the table, anger overtaking me. All of the amusement faded from Sophie’s face. The rest of the Girlicane, sensing a shift in the atmosphere, stopped smiling, too.

  “What I do to her is nothing compared to what her kind did to my brother,” she said. “I’ll never forgive them for that.”

  “Her kind? What are you even talking about?”

  “My older brother, Nate, was killed in Iraq on active duty. A suicide bomber blew him into so many pieces that there wasn’t even a body to ship home. I cried for three days straight. Whenever I see Enisa, it brings the pain of that time back. For all I know, it was one of her cousins who launched the missile that hit his platoon.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to your brother. I really, truly am. But every Muslim isn’t a terrorist. Enisa wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she wouldn’t. Not personally, anyway. But you weren’t there in Mr. Baxter’s history class last year when I told everyone my brother’s story and then said that Muslims shouldn’t be allowed into the country anymore because of it. Do you know what she said?”

  “What’d she say?”

  “She said that I was Islamophobic, ignorant, and short-sighted. Right after I got done telling everyone how my brother was blown up by one of her fellow Muslims. Not even an ounce of sympathy for me or my
brother.”

  “You gave your opinion. Why couldn’t she give hers?”

  “Uh, because she’s a foreigner, and has no right to say anything about American shit.”

  “Right. It’s people like her that are ruining our country,” Bailey added. “And when my daddy, the state senator, is president, he’s going to ban all refugees from coming in to blow the place up.”

  “Exactly,” said Sophie. “So do you see now, bookworm? There’s more than one side to every story, as you of all people should know. And when I’m done with her, she’ll be right back where the rest of her people belong.”

  “In China,” said Jade. “Uh… I mean, Afghanistan.”

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hear any more. There’d be no convincing them to leave her alone- not when she had a righteous cause to back her bullying up. As far as she was concerned, Enisa was The Other. And there was nothing worse than being an Other when you were the queen of the in-crowd.

  I got up and left without even saying goodbye. Frankie’s band wrapped up their next song and I sat back down beside Enisa and Molly.

  “What’d you say to them?” Enisa whispered.

  “I asked them why they pick on you so much,” I said. “Sophie blamed it on something you said to her in History class last year.”

  “Of course, she did.” She sighed and shook her head. “That’s when it all began. And maybe I shouldn’t have called her ignorant or Islamophobic, but you should’ve heard what she said, Henry. I can’t tolerate people spreading hatred.”

  “Of course not. And none of us should. That’s the whole purpose of Operation Candy Corn, isn’t it?”

  “What if it doesn’t work, Henry? What if it just makes everything worse?”

  “We’ll make it work. We can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”

  I grabbed her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was all I could do to ensure that everything was going to be okay, even if I wondered that question myself.

  Frankie’s band wrapped up their final song of the night, to the applause of the audience, and came back down off the stage. We congratulated him on a job well done and then we slipped out of the bar quietly, careful to make sure nobody was following us.