The Spirit House (11 page)

The pimple on my chin had returned. And there was another one on my nose.

I felt cold. Why wasn't my skin perfect anymore? Why had Mark been so abrupt? I became aware of a queasiness in my stomach. Maybe I really
didn't
feel so hot.

“Don't be stupid. It's just coincidence,” I said. My voice sounded hollow. The phone rang, and I jumped.

I raced to answer it, flooded with relief. It had to be Mark, apologizing, telling me he'd give me a ride after all. Everything was okay, not ominous at all. Nothing had changed. I lifted the receiver. It was Gloria.

“I just
had
to tell you!” she shouted. No laryngitis now! “I peeled the mask off—and it
worked!
My skin looks a million times better. Lynette will
die
when she sees me.”

I didn't bother telling her that by tomorrow Lynette's skin would look just as good as hers. I couldn't think of anything to say.

“Well, Julie? You still there?”

I mumbled something about how happy I was to hear her good news.

“You don't
sound
happy,” she said. “You know something, Julie …” She paused. “Well, I think I should tell you. You've been kind of full of yourself lately, I was noticing.”

“I have to go, I don't feel so hot.” It wasn't a lie. I put down the receiver.

The pattern was very clear.

13

I stood there by the phone, feeling the sickness in my stomach. I pushed my hair back from my forehead. My hand was damp with sweat.

The transition had been so sudden! All at once the spirit was against me. What had changed her from my protector to my enemy? It had to be something that had happened after I came home—everyone had treated me like a princess at school today.

And then I remembered how long Bia and Lynette waited before driving away. Was it because I accused him of not being the real Thamrongsak? As soon as he knew I'd figured out the truth he must have done something. He could have told Lynette to wait for him, and then given the spirit one more gift—maybe something precious he was saving for an emergency, something that had finally won her over.
That
was why it had taken them so long to leave. And that was why the spirit was out to get me now. When she'd been against Bia, she punished his friends. Now that she was with him, she was punishing me, his enemy.

I felt like I was going to throw up, or faint, or both. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing deeply, trying not to panic.

I had to get to the junior high and find Dominic, and he would help me. I could tell him everything, I could trust him, he would know what to do. He was the only person in the world who wouldn't think I was crazy. He had built the spirit house, after all. He'd be
thrilled
to learn how well it worked. Good old Dom!

And then I moaned. What if Bia got to him first? Bia knew Dominic was the only person I could turn to. Bia knew where he was. Bia had Lynette to drive him around. He could probably come up with reasons to keep Dominic from believing my story. And just by being there, Bia would prevent me from confiding in Dominic, from telling him the truth.

I wouldn't let him stop me. Bia already knew I had figured him out. I would just have to tell Dominic, right in front of him. It wouldn't be easy. But it was the only thing I could do.

That wasn't true. It wasn't the
only
thing. There was something else I could do first, one more precaution I could take.

I looked down at my wrist, at the bracelet Mark had given me. There was still a chance I could stack the cards, at least partially, in my favor again. The bracelet might get the spirit back on my side. Then she'd protect me, make me safe; she'd fix my skin and hair and make everyone like me again. I started for the backyard. I ran past Mom's study.…

“No. Not for you!”

My own voice stopped me in the hallway. I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. I was so scared and confused I was talking to myself now. But so what? The advice I was giving was good.

It didn't work to make wishes for yourself. I'd realized that weeks ago, when I made my first deal with the spirit. And passing Mom's study now, the right wish had popped into my head out of nowhere, just as if someone else really
had
suggested it. It seemed absolutely self-evident. It was what I should have wished for in the first place. It was really the only wish to make.

I felt a sudden calm, a clarity, a deep warmth rising from inside me. I knew what to ask for. It might not make me safe. But it would do something more important. It would make things right.

I tried to keep up the feeling of calm as I stepped out into the darkening backyard. There was not a break in the clouds; dead leaves danced across the lawn and blew into my face. And as I neared the spirit house I began to notice a thick rotten smell. A smell that made me think of cramped animal cages needing to be cleaned—a smell of illness and filth.

Was it the odor of the spirit? A stench she was giving off because she was becoming more active, more powerful? Or did it just smell this way to me now because she was my enemy?

I stopped beside the spirit house, feeling queasier than ever. I couldn't take this stink for very long. But the wish was short—and final. I'd do it and stay away from the spirit house for good.

I got down on my knees, as I had seen Bia doing, put my hands on the ground in front of me, and rested my head on them.

I offer you my most respectful greeting, honorable one. This is Julie Kamen again. Please accept my gratitude for all the help you have given to me. It is very much appreciated. But there is one more request I must make. It is very important. For this, I offer you the most valuable possession I have left
.

What I ask you is to please let Thamrongsak Tan-ngarmtrong come to America. Let him take his rightful place here. Please do this. It is my deepest and most sincere wish. I offer you my humblest gratitude for listening to me. Thank you
.

I got to my feet, trying not to think of the spirit's face, of her head lolling on its pillow of intestines. That's what I was smelling, the foulness of her intestines. It was all I could do not to gag as I stepped closer. I gritted my teeth and thrust my hand through the little doorway. I dropped Mark's bracelet inside.

My fingers touched something pulpy and moist and very warm.

I screamed and pulled my hand out and turned to run. And screamed again when Bia grabbed me.

14

“Quiet. Quiet, Julie. Quiet, please. What is
matter?
”

“Let go of me!” I howled. I struggled against him, grasping his wrists, trying to push his hands away from my shoulders. I was too hysterical to think; I hardly knew what I was saying. “Let me go! You can't make her hurt me like you made her hurt Thamrongsak!”

“Quiet, Julie! Somebody hear.”

“I'll scream again if you don't let go!”

He dropped his hands but didn't step back; he'd grab me again if I tried to get away. His hair was rumpled, his black and white shirt untucked. “What
happen?
” he whispered.

I knew I had to get away from him but I couldn't run; my knees were so weak I could barely stand. “Oh, God, I
touched
her, I
felt
her.” I gulped, shivering with disgust. “She was in there. I felt her. All slimy and warm and …
horrible
.”

“Spirit? You feel spirit?” he asked me, puzzled.

“What
else?
”

And then, unbelievably, he laughed. “Oh, Julie!” He threw back his head, his shoulders shaking. “You think is spirit, when you touch the … the …” He couldn't go on.

“Well, what
was
it then?” I demanded.

He took a deep breath, trying to control his amusement. “Boil … boil pig brain,” he said.

“What?” The words had no meaning for me. “What are you saying? I don't get it.”

“Boil pig brain,” he repeated, wiping his eyes. “Buy it when shop for Thai meal other day. Special food. Spirit like very much. Today, warm in microwave. Then give to spirit.”

“Boiled
pig's
brain?” It was too ridiculous to be possible. That was the special gift he had given the spirit?
That
was how he had wooed her onto his side? “Come on, Bia! You've got to be kidding.”

“No. Is true. Old custom,” he explained, serious now, still very close to me.

“That's great,” I muttered. “I hope she thinks it's delicious.” I felt stupid for being so hysterical, and angry at him for laughing at me. But my knees weren't shaking anymore; I was beginning to pull myself together. The situation was coming back to me. I didn't know whether the bracelet would have any effect or not—it was probably a paltry gift compared with a boiled pig's brain.

But I was sure that in a minute Bia would do something. He would try to keep me quiet, to stop me from getting away from him and telling anybody what I knew. I looked at my watch. It was only four-fifteen. Nobody else would be home for at least an hour. That would give Bia plenty of time. Unless I could get to Dominic.

Thunder rumbled distantly; the wind lifted my hair. “So you
were
here all this time,” I said, stalling. “I thought you were out with Lynette.”

“Talk to her. Then come back and start to cut vegetable for supper.” He looked down at the ground, pushing leaves aside with his foot.

He didn't explain why he had come back in so quietly that I didn't hear him, or why he had made no noise at all inside the house. But I didn't accuse him of trying to make me think he wasn't there; I didn't want to do anything to make him angry. I just wanted to get to Dominic. “That was nice of you. To start supper, I mean.”

“Ah, there, I see.” He knelt and picked up something from the dead leaves, something he must have dropped when I ran into him.

It was a large chef's knife.

He lifted the knife and carefully brushed off the blade. His eyes moved back to me. He was standing straight now, I noticed. There were no dark circles under his eyes. He looked better than he had in weeks. “What you give spirit this time?” he said softly.

I had to get away from him. “None of your business,” I said. I stepped backward. Would he try to stab me if I ran for it? I turned and started walking slowly across the lawn, pushing dead leaves out of my hair.

He kept beside me. “Where you going?”

I didn't look at him. “None of your business.”

“No. I think is my business, Julie.” His tone was chilling because it was so bland, so pleasant. “Don't want you to talk to anybody now. Want you to stay with me, help me. Explain what you say about Thamrongsak.” He reached for my arm. “What you—”

“Bia,
look!
” I shouted, pointing to the left.

It was the oldest trick in the book, but he fell for it. He turned and stared back in the direction of the spirit house.

I took off. I ran past the deck, around the side of the house toward the front.

“No, Julie!” he shouted.

I had a slight head start, but he was after me now. I didn't look behind; I kept going. I raced across the front yard.

“Stop, Julie! Want to explain!”

Sure you do
, I thought.
You want to explain that I'm about to have a very bad accident with a knife, because I know too much. You want to explain that the spirit didn't get me yet, so you will
.

I reached the sidewalk and pounded down the block. I heard his footsteps slapping the pavement close behind me as the first drops of rain started to fall. I reached the corner. I dashed into the street.

Tires squealed as a Mercedes swerved. The horn blared; the driver was yelling. My heart thudded wildly, pumping more adrenaline through me as I reached the curb. An accident! The spirit
was
trying to stop me. I wanted to be at home, safe in my room, not plunging into danger. I kept going. I wouldn't be safe at home. I wouldn't be safe anywhere with Bia.

I didn't hear his steps now. I looked back for a second. Bia was still on the other side of the street, trapped there by the traffic.

I turned and kept running. Maybe I
could
make it to the junior high before he did. I wasn't as fast as most boys. But Bia smoked. He'd be winded first. He wouldn't be able to keep up the pace for long. And he didn't know the streets. People drove him everywhere he went. If I could lose him, it might take him hours to find his way back home. That would give me time to tell enough people about him to be safe. I darted abruptly to the left, around a corner. I ran halfway down the block, then slowed a little and looked back.

He was around the corner too, gaining on me. I turned and slammed into a fat man. His umbrella clattered to the ground.

“Look where you're going!” he shouted at me.

“Sorry,” I said, and stumbled into his umbrella. The point at the top jabbed me painfully in the leg. If Bia's knife didn't get me, the spirit would. I pushed the umbrella aside and kept going.
The bracelet! I gave you the bracelet!
I thought at the spirit.

But that wouldn't help me. I hadn't given her the bracelet so she would protect me. I gave it to her so she'd bring Thamrongsak to America. I had to watch out for her tricks and look where I was going. I dodged out of the way of an old lady and a dog—and skidded and almost fell. The sidewalk was very slippery now.

Reflected lightning rippled across the wet black pavement, followed instantly by a tremendous boom of thunder. Next time it might hit me. Or it would hit a tree I was under and a branch would fall on me. I was out of breath; my chest ached. And still I heard Bia's steps behind me. Why wasn't he out of breath yet? Was the spirit giving him extra wind? I splashed through a puddle and turned another corner, gasping.

I wasn't far from the junior high now. But Bia was still following me. How was I going to lose him? I reached a narrow street that curved away to the left, the wrong direction. If I ran down it would I throw him off? It might be easier to lose him there; the streets down that way twisted and turned. And after I lost him I could work my way back, and find Dominic, and …