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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1012663
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by Seuzz
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2180093
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1012663 added June 29, 2021 at 11:59am
Restrictions: None
The Winding Trail
Previously: "Boxed and Outfoxed

Robert told you to look in the old-clothes box for your mask. It might be that he was trying to bluff or trick you into following a false trail while keeping the mask himself. But even if that is what he's doing, it's worth trying to track the box down before it gets too far out of your reach.

"Who picked it up?" you ask your mom

"They were from your school, Will," she peevishly replies. (She is distracted by the dinner prep.) "You know, you haven't looked at, let alone worn, any of those old things for a couple of years now, so why all of a sudden—?"

"Because I think there was something in with them that—! Never mind, I'll go track it down myself," you mutter as your mom turns to give you a hard squint.

You've got your phone out as you run up the stairs, and pause in the hallway to tap in a text to Jenny Ashton. Robert peeks out from behind his bedroom door, then hurriedly slams it. You run over and kick at it until he opens it with a sullen but fearful expression.

"Is that thing in the box of clothes down in the garage?" you demand.

"I dunno! Why don't you go check? I just know Mom said—"

"Mom gave it to a charity drive today."

"What?" Robert looks startled.

"If I track down that box and it turns out you've still that thing up here in your room, I'm gonna kick you in the balls so hard they'll show up in the x-rays the next time you go to the dentist!"

Robert's eyes widen. Then he slams the door in your face.

* * * * *

All things considered, you think your text to Jenny is a model of tact and composure: Hey ur friends came by my house to collect for the charity drive. Who r they n where did they take the stuff? Polite too is the follow-up text you send when she doesn't answer: Hey I need to look thru stuff ur friends took from my house how can I reach them? Also the third text, sent after dinner, when you still haven't heard from Jenny: I need to talk to the guys that took stuff from my house theres something in it not mine I need to get it back.

Finally, though, you lose all patience and call her directly. "Is this about your box of stuff?" she snarls when she picks up.

"Yeah. Wait, you mean you got my texts?"

"Of course I got your texts! You've only been banging at me all day about it!"

"So why didn't you reply?"

"'Cos I don't know who's got your stuff, Will, I—"

"I thought they were friends of yours."

"Will you shut up?" She pants into the phone. "I'm trying to help you out here! I don't know who it was collected your stuff because I'm not part of it! It's a junior-class project! I know a couple of the people who are helping out, but I don't know who organized it, and I sure as hell don't know who it was who swung by your place. I mean, if you want to take over for me, tracking it down, please do!"

"Oh. Okay, sure."

"What?" She sounds startled.

"I said I'll take over. Um, who should I text?"

"Oh. Um—" She sounds completely baffled by your offer to follow up on your own shit. "Hang on. I'll text my guys to text you when they find your stuff."

"Why can't I text them?"

"Okay, I guess you could. Um, no, wait. Will, can I hang up? I'll just tell them to text you. Bye." The line goes dead before you can reply.

You roll your eyes. Jenny's more than a tomboy. She's a little bit of a busybody. It sounds like she doesn't even want to turn the job over to you.

* * * * *

An hour passes before you hear back from anyone about your shit, time during which you at least manage to get the rest of your homework done.

Hi Will, the text reads, Jenny Ashton tells me that we accidentally picked up something from your house today that we shouldn't have. Can you tell me what it was, and what your address was, and what time we picked it up? It is from someone named Naomi Batson.

You reply with your address and an approximate time. As for what it was you lost— You hesitate a good long time before describing it as a blue mask made out of something like porcelain. You add that it was probably tucked in with the clothes inside the box.

I see, Naomi replies. Was it valuable? You hesitate even longer over this question before replying, Maybe but it doesn't belong to me which is y I need it back.

Naomi promises to get in touch with you tomorrow about it.

Well, that's all that can be done, right? Still, you're suffering from what your Aunt Mary calls "a nervous tummy" when you go to bed.

* * * * *

The next day, Thursday, dawns clear and warm. You're up early, but you resist the urge to text Naomi to find out if she knows anything. At least, you successfully resist until you get to school, when you text her that you have second lunch and a free hour during seventh period, in case there's a chance of meeting up during those times. Her reply comes shortly before class starts: Thx will let you know.

At lunch you go looking for Jenny. James jeers at your approach—"How's your electric shaver project coming along, Prescott?"—but you ignore him. "Thanks for putting me onto your friend," you tell Jenny.

"Well, you're welcome," she says. Her tone is a little testy. "Did you get your thing back?"

"What thing?" Carson asks.

"Not yet. She's supposed to text me when they've found it. Uh, do you know where they keep the stuff they collect?"

"Someone's house, I suppose," says Jenny. She slaps Carson's hand away as he tries to slip it into her bag of chips. "Too many sticky fingers up here at school."

"Do you know this Naomi girl's schedule?"

"No. Except that she has Orchestra last period."

"Wait," says Carson. "I thought it was Eva who had Orchestra last period."

"Yeah, she does," Jenny snaps at him. "So?"

Carson's eyes pop. "You mean there's more than one person in the school orchestra?"

"What are you talking about?" Jenny cries.

"I thought Eva played every position, like a one-man band!"

"She does," James interrupts, "when she's in the back seat of a car with Jeremy Richards."

"What's this?" asks Caleb, who has kept silent up to now. "Eva and Jeremy Richards?"

"Oh man, you haven't heard about that?" James says. "Yeah, Jeremy and Eva are—"

"No they're not!" Jenny cries.

But it's too late. Your conversation has been completely derailed as the group has to argue over whether Eva Garner, one of Jenny's best friends, is getting it on with Jeremy Richards, a basketball player who used to be friends with you and Caleb and Keith before he hit a growth spurt and decided he'd rather be a jock and an asshole.

But at least you have a lead on where to find Naomi Batson.

* * * * *

But you have no idea what she looks like, a fact you realize only after you're standing in the doorway of the orchestra practice room after school and looking in at the milling students as they chat and laugh and put their instruments away.

But Eva Garner is still there, and so is Yumi Saito, another friend of Jenny's. When she looks over at you with a quick smile, you hustle over to ask her, in a low voice, "I'm looking for Naomi Batson. Is she still in here?"

"Naomi?" Yumi looks around with a slight frown. "Yeah, she's— Naomi!" she calls, and a dumpy girl with a plain face and straight brown hair looks over from the other side of the room. You take an instant dislike to her. She's got a smug look on her face, and you peg her as a teacher's pet.

You totter over to meet her, and find she doesn't look any better up close. "Hi, uh, Naomi?" you croak. "I'm Will Prescott. I texted you about—"

"Oh yes," she says, sounding like a bureaucrat who has generously agreed to make time to listen to your case.

"No," she tells you after you ask if she's heard any more about your box of old clothes, "I mean— Yeah, I'll talk to you later," she tells her friend, who has leaned in to whisper something, and who know walks away. "Your stuff is over at Kian Benefield's house," she then tells you. "I was going over there to look for it, then text you when I found it."

She smiles. There's a steely glint behind it, as though she's daring you to try pushing her harder or faster.

Next: "Follow the Bouncing Box

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1012663