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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1022459
by Seuzz
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183561
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1022459 added November 29, 2021 at 12:05pm
Restrictions: None
Grifting the Marc
Previously: "Two Girls, One Plan

You've got a bad feeling about this (to coin a phrase). It feels like Katy is improvising a plan right in front of you, and you have no idea whether to trust that she's going to do it right—even if it turns out to be a good plan.

"Katy," you start to say.

She squeezes you by the arm.

"Will, please," she begs. "Marc's gonna be here any minute, and I don't want him seeing us together, like we set this thing up between the two of us. You know?"

You give in with a gulp. Katy follows you to the edge of the gazebo, then watches as you trudge off down toward the river, mask in hand. You walk a good ways off, so that it will definitely look like you're not "with" her at the gazebo when Marc arrives. When you look back, Katy has her back to you and is staring off toward the street.

There's a "river walk" at Potsdam Park: a wide sidewalk that runs parallel to the river bank with a railing to keep anyone from accidentally tumbling into the hissing water below. You lean against this railing and fidget with the mask. This whole situation—using masks to copy people you barely know so as to fuck up their lives—wasn't what you had in mind when you decided to show the stuff to Katy. But then, it's not like you had any firm ideas yourself about what to do with them. The surprise is that Katy does have ideas.

Except you also get the feeling they're not Katy's own ideas. Whatever animus she feels toward Hannah Westrick, it seems like she feels it on behalf of someone else.

On behalf of Stephanie Wyatt. You have to wonder what is going on there.

One thought will lead to another. You could find out the deal with Stephane (you reflect) by getting into her mask, and that thought ricochets off another: the mask you make of Marc won't have his memories or anything, because you didn't make one of those metal strips to go with it.

That leads to a further surprise: You casually turn the mask over to find that there is a metal strip glued inside it. With runes and everything carved into it. When did you make it?

Or didn't you make it? Did Katy make it? Like, last night? Outside of your supervision?

You gulp, and now you are pretty sure you don't want to go through with this plan of hers.

But even as you turn to walk back to the gazebo, you glimpse Marc Garner—looking very fit in a floppy pair of workout shorts and a long-sleeve pullover—as he comes bounding out of the parking lot and toward the gazebo.

You glance around, thinking that maybe you can sneak off and text Katy that you've changed your mind about helping with the plan.

Then you think: What's the worst that can happen? The mask will copy him. The rest, even if it doesn't work, will only ... not work.

You run a dry tongue over a dry lip, and resume your slow, heavy trudge toward the gazebo.

* * * * *

Marc is lounging on one of the low benches that circle the interior of the gazebo, with his arms folded across his chest and his long, strong legs (crossed at the ankles) stretched out in front of him. Katy is perched like a bird on the bench beside him, and he is listening to her with a puzzled but friendly look. He doesn't even seem to notice you until you step onto the gazebo proper. Then he does a slight double-take and lifts his eyebrows at you in a very casual greeting. "Ay. Will," he says with an open-mouthed smile.

Katy looks sharply between you and him, the squawks.

"Oh my God, Will!" she stiffly exclaims. "I didn't know you were coming out here!" She glances around, her head twisting about mechanically like it's on a motor. "Oh, I forgot, there's something I need to get out of my car!" She scampers past you without a word.

Christ, you think as you watch her go. This is going to be a disaster.

But Marc doesn't seem to have noticed anything odd about her behavior. He remains lounging, propping his shoulder blades against the wooden railing of the gazebo as he stretches almost parallel to the ground. "So what's up?" he asks you. "Goin' to Megan's party tonight?"

"That's the plan," you stammer. "Going with—"

You are suddenly aware of the mask that you're gripping in front of you. It seems to burn your fingers and palms.

Oh, Jesus, you think. Then: Oh, fuck it. Here goes.

Marc doesn't react as you step forward and lean into his personal space. His eyes drop to the mask as you lift it, but not until you're practically atop him does he start to stiffen and sit up with a look of alarm. But he doesn't even manage to unfold his arms before you've pushed the mask into his face. And then his arms tumble limply to his side, and his head lolls. His jaw falls open and his eyes stare blankly into a distant corner of the park.

You glance around. You have the park to yourself.

Still, you nervously tidy things up. You fold Marc's nerveless arms across his chest, and reposition his head so that he is staring blankly up at the roof above. Then you push his eyelids closed. You step back to study your work. You decide he presents a reasonable facsimile of a guy who has fallen asleep on a park bench.

Which in a sense is exactly what he has done. Only with your help.

In the silence that follows, you have time to study him. You might as well, for you have a strong hunch that someone is going to be impersonating him as part of Katy's plan, and that it will be you doing the impersonating. Marc Garner is a solidly built guy, with a soccer player's strongly muscled legs and an open and friendly countenance of handsome features. He is still brown from the summer, though the tan is fading to mottled pinks and reds. His dark blonde hair is chopped short into spikes, which he has gelled to stand up. If you look closely you can see the resemblance between him and his sisters Eva and Jessica. But it's not a close one—not with the masculine cast of his face—and if didn't know he was one of a set of triplets, you never would guess.

He's going to be out for awhile, so you look around for Katy, and when you don't see her you trudge back to her car. When you go to tap on the window— Well, that's when you first confirm that her plan is going to be a lot more complicated than she let on with you originally.

But it's not Katy behind the wheel. It's an unconscious Stephanie Wyatt.

* * * * *

"Marc's not going anywhere," you tell "Stephanie" through gritted teeth. "It'll be another ten minutes at least before he wakes up."

"Just go make sure, okay?" she snaps. She is hustling herself into a new set of clothes—a "Stephanie Wyatt" set of clothes—and in her hurry wasn't the least bit shy about letting you see her enormous bare tits as she switched brassieres. "Get the mask and get out of here. You don't want to be around when he wakes up."

"I want to talk to you, Katy!"

"We'll talk afterwards. Move it, Prescott!"

But you know it's Katy, not the real Stephanie. So even though you do "move it," you give her a very sour look as you back off.

It's a look that's about as effective as flicking a booger at a brick wall.

"Hey!"

You turn at the shout, and return when she gestures you back. "Here, I forgot," she says, thrusting an armful of bright clothes at you. "Some of Marc's clothes to go with the mask."

"Jesus! How did you—?"

"I stopped by his place before I came over here. Okay, get going. After you get the mask off him, go back to the school or someplace. I'll text you later."

She starts peeling off the too-tiny shorts that she wore as Katy Conlee, then gives you a very hard look as Stephanie Wyatt when you linger to watch.

* * * * *

You leave Marc asleep in the gazebo, taking the newly made mask with you back to the old elementary school. Downstairs in the basement, you examine it. MARC DAVID GARNER, reads the name that floats just over the inner surface. So it looks like Katy must have made the thing properly. You seal it up.

You don't put it on, though. Instead you turn to the clothes that Katy hustled at you. A pair of fresh, pressed Levis. A gold-and-crimson soccer jersey. White ankle socks. Heavy rubber sandals. Plaid boxers. A short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt.

You glance between them and the mask. I put on that, I put on these ... and I'm Marc Garner. You tug your ear. Gotta be some advantages in that.

But it's Katy looking to collect most of the advantages, you're pretty sure. I'm going to have a good, long talk with her when she gets out here, you tell yourself. I'm not putting anything on until she explains everything to me. And I mean everything!

Except ... Your eye reverts to the pile of clothes and the mask.

She'll probably be showing up as Stephanie when she arrives. That gives her the advantage. Maybe you could even up the odds in the conversation that follows if you went ahead and put on the mask, and met her as Marc.

Next: "Of Stephanie and Sabotage

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1022459