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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Theory of Bully Management"  The next time you see Caleb, it's by his car in the parking lot after school. You're leaning against his trunk, waiting for him, and he's looking a lot less confident -- a lot more freaked out -- as he approaches. "The fuck do you want?" he asks warily. "To talk. Uh, it is you, isn't it, Caleb?" "Sure. So what do you what do you want to talk about?" "I wanna find out how the day went. Are you okay?" He shivers. "I guess. It's a little weird being back this way after -- " He shivers again. "So what happened last night at Gordon's? Why were you so freaking desperate to get out of his mask?" "Because his dad's about fifty times worse than he is! Come on, go with me and I'll explain it." "Sure, Gordon wants us to meet him at the elementary school at five-thirty. We can hang out there until he shows." "Let's go someplace else, get something to eat. After last night, that place has bad memories." "Only if you pay. I'm cleaned out." "Deal. I lifted ten bucks from Gordon's wallet before we switched back." * * * * * Ten bucks doesn't go far at Panera Bread, but you are able to get some coffees and cheap pastries. "The day itself wasn't awful," Caleb tells you as he munches a berry scone. "Not after I bailed out of that dumb practice section. Jesus, the looks Steve Patterson was giving me. But Gordon's classes are all jokes, so that was okay -- " "How was Chelsea?" You'd like to leer, but from the way Caleb is talking, it sounds like it wasn't a leer-worthy encounter. "Crazy. Gordon's in even worse trouble with her now, because I didn't meet her after the classes I was supposed to meet her after, and I screwed up at lunch. That was almost worse than the basketball practice. I just sat there at lunch and shoved food in my face and didn't talk. That's how Gordon told me to act around his friends, by the way. He told me to just keep my mouth shut and I'd be okay. I guess I was. Patterson cornered me a couple of times with questions and shit, and I just shrugged and said 'Huh' and he seemed to think it was normal. And Lynch -- giggling little creep -- I just ignored him." "Was there anything good about the day?" "I didn't have to fight my through the hallways," Caleb says after a moment's thought. "That was kind of nice. I just walked through, and people bounced off me. You know," he adds, cocking his head. "I always figured Gordon was being an asshole when he knocked people around in the halls, but maybe he just doesn't notice them." He gives you a worried look. "How was he as me?" "Tell me about what happened at his house last night. Then I'll frighten you with what he got up to today." Caleb's eyes go wide. "No. You tell me first." "Uh uh. You finish talking about Gordon's life." You fill your mouth with coffee. "Well, his dad's crazy. He kind of warned me last night about it. Like, 'Don't close your bedroom door' and 'Always call him "sir",' and 'Make sure the kitchen is spotless', and crap like that. His dad's a cop, and he's not as big as Gordon, but he's mean and he's got a nasty tongue on him. I left a sponge in the kitchen sink, and he got real quiet and his face got really red, and he just licked me up one side and down the other about keeping things tidy. I seriously thought he was going to belt me. "But the real kicker was this morning. I come out of the bathroom from showering, and he stone-cold stops me in the hall, just puts out this hand to my shoulder and knocks me back and asks if I cleaned out the sink when I was done. And I said I did, because I'm not an idiot, I know the answer to that question is going to be 'yes', and he forces me back into the bathroom. And he holds me there while he runs a finger down in the sink. And he pulls it up and he shows it to me and he says -- " Caleb puts his index finger to your face, and opens his eyes wide like a maniac. His mouth splits into a snarl. "Does this look like clean to you?" he says in a fierce whisper. "And I'm shitting bricks," he continues, "because this guy's built like a fire plug, and he forces me around to face the sink, and he kicks me in the back of the knees to force me down, and he presses my face into the sink and he says 'This is shit. You clean it up now, or I will clean it with your face.' And he slams my face down into the porcelain. Not hard, because I'm bent wrong, but enough to make my head ring a little." "Jesus," you say when you've recovered your voice. "Jesus. Now we know where Gordon gets it from." "No shit. And I thought I got it from my mom last week when I left my pants in the middle of the living room floor." He slurps his coffee. "Now, there's no way you can frighten me more with anything Gordon did today." "I think I can," you tell him, and relate the lunchtime conversation with him and Keith. "When you saw him after school, did he tell you anything about running into the Molester?" Caleb's mouth is hanging open, and his face is green. "No," he says faintly. "Did he?" "I dunno. But you better hope he didn't. And you better hope he doesn't the next time he's inside your mask." "Christ, Will, we can't let him get into our lives again. Not into my life, anyway, and he'll fuck up yours too, if -- " "You think he's going to stop with the masks? After what you just told me, do you think he's ever going to go home as himself again? He's just going to keep sending us -- " "We can stop him when we're inside his mask. He can't force anyone in that Neanderthal body -- " "And once he's out the mask then he's got the Neanderthal body and he can force us -- " None of this horrified talk gets you anywhere. And when Gordon calls Caleb's number a little before five to remind you both about the afternoon meeting, you realize you've no choice but to go out to the elementary school. * * * * * "Don't close your bedroom door. Always call him 'sir'. Make sure every room and everything in the room is spotless when you're done." It's Will Prescott who's explaining this to you, and he looks very intense as he does. He's one to talk about neatness: his clothes are sloppy and his hair is a mess and he's squinting up at you. He has to squint up at you. You're almost six-foot-five. On arriving at the elementary school, Gordon had instantly informed you that it would be your turn to take over for him. When you started to protest, he just lifted you off your feet, dropped you on a table and began to rip the clothes off your frame. You'd given in, and after pulling off your boxers had unhappily taken the mask from him. You were dizzy when you woke up, and were dizzier when you got onto your feet. The ground seemed very far away. You started to feel your new muscles, but -- "Get dressed. You can feel yourself up at home," said Will Prescott from the next table over, and hurled a t-shirt at you. It wasn't a long list of instructions he gave you once you were dressed as each other, but he breaks it off suddenly now by telling you there's a complete set of rules on his phone, which he'd texted to Caleb the night before. "Study them and don't forget them," he says. "Yes sir," you say, figuring it's good to get some practice with the "sir"-ing in. But he doesn't answer right away, being busy pulling your books out of your bag and his from his bag and swapping them around, so that you can do your own homework. "Make a list of your classes and any rules I need to follow, text it to me when you get home. You got my number?" he asks sharply, and you nod. "Do I need to be anywhere soon?" "Home for supper by six-thirty." "Okay. But get your ass to my place. If you're not home when my dad gets home, you'll regret it." He stabs a finger at his Bug, and you hop over to it. How you get yourself folded up in that tiny cabin you're not sure. But you get away and get home without a crick in your neck. * * * * * You manage to beat Gordon's dad home by about five minutes, which isn't enough time to get used to this new body but is enough time to start feeling worried. That sense of worry intensifies when you glance out the front window and spot a guy in a cop's uniform kneeling in the yard. You watch, gulping, until he raises his head and locks eyes with you. Gordon's dad is only a little over six feet tall, but he's brawny, and with the buzz cut and in his patrolman's uniform he looks like the stereotype of the strict disciplinarian. You look at each other, and you feel yourself turning whiter as he turns redder. Eventually, it dawns on you that he wants you to come outside. Your hand is trembling as you lay hold of the door knob. "What is this," he says quietly when you're on the porch. He doesn't indicate anything. "Sir?" "Wrong answer. What is this?" You open your mouth, but no sounds can come out. What are you supposed to say if you can't ask him what he's talking about? His face goes so red it's almost purple. His voice is a whisper when he speaks again: "I thought we put the switch away for good. Get it from the shed." Switch? Then you realize what he must be talking about. At the same time, another voice sounds in your head: Make yourself more trouble than you're worth. Next: "Breaking a Habit You Never Had" |
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