13 on Halloween (Shadow Series #1)

by Laura A. H. Elliott

  “What queen?” My brother said.

  And the selector-slash-ghost-slash-evil thing Dad didn’t want me to play with, even though this didn’t feel like playing, kept moving. R-O-X-I-E.

  “Queen Roxie?” Brian laughed harder every time he said the word queen and he rolls onto his back. He’s laughing so hard he can’t breathe.

  “Queen Roxie,” I whispered. I don’t know why. It was ridiculous. But there in the light of Brian’s flashlight in the gasoline flavored air, in the mystical communication with the unknown and things I didn’t understand, things Dad wanted to destroy so I wouldn’t find out about them, I wanted to believe. Believe I could be special. I could be a queen.

  “What? Queen of the Dorks?”

  “Shut up Brian.”

  The garage door squeaked that night like it does in tonight’s hard wind. Brian picked up the pieces of the board and threw them in the trash and I grabbed the selector but that was way too dodo of a name for it I decided, so I nicknamed it my dream compass. And I didn’t want to throw it away because I wanted to have a piece of it. I wanted to have proof of what it said. That I might be special. It couldn’t just end up in the trash like the board. It was my one special thing. My link to ghosts and things I didn’t understand.

  That’s the first time I thought that there might be an alternate universe out there, a world where I might be popular. A peacock. Queen of the Peacocks. But I knew it must be very, very far away because the only thing I’d been queen of on this planet was of wanting-to-be-a-peacock-and-never-getting-what-I-wanted. Besides, how could I trust those stupid ghosts. I finally had my proof and I couldn’t wait to tell Mitch. That was the last time I sat in the dark before I sat in the dark with the peacocks on my birthday.

  I stashed the dream compass in my nightstand for a while afterwards, but then I got to thinking about how Dad hated it and how maybe messages-from-the-great-beyond were a bad thing, mostly because the compass would kind of whisper in the dark about everything missing in my life. So, I hid the dream compass up in the attic, not long after Brian and I got our message-from-the-great-beyond.

  I take a deep breath and sort of stagger to my feet and turn around to face the attic door. I put my hand on the cold, metal doorknob and give it a turn. I walk into the attic and open the door to the room that sits over the garage. The place where we all swore to never tell a soul about what happened there.

  My eyes adjust to the darkness. I expect the white light, the great orb, to appear any second. But all’s very, dark. So I search, taking tiny steps as I wait. I walk around my mom’s crazy outfits to Dad’s ancient suitcases, some of them are his grandfather’s and survived The War. I was never really sure which war he meant, though. And then I spot it, just behind the old racer car––its red plastic now faded to pink, cracking in spots, what I pedaled as a little girl on the path Dad, Mitch and Brian made around the garden. The dream compass lays right where I’d left it, right where I’d forgotten about it. And, it kind of glows.

  I pick the dream compass up and smile, remembering what it said once-upon-a-time, two Christmases ago, but I’m tormented by it too. Especially on this night. The night I’ve never felt so alone. I carry the it into the middle of the attic where I sat with the peacocks that had only showed up to my birthday party to use me. I sit with my legs crossed, waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

  I wait for the orb and when it doesn’t come, I wait for the dream compass to do something, glow brighter. But, my eyes get heavy. Really, really heavy. And then, just as I stand up, ready to give up, there’s a general lightening of the attic, which is easy to see in the dark.

  The moon shines through the only always-open window onto the plywood floor in four long, stretched-out rectangles in the spot where all fourteen of us sat the night of my birthday, the night I first AP’d. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the folded-up message from the bottle and hold it tighter, crushing it in my hand, knowing once I find what’s at the X I’ll be a peacock. And I get all wiggly like little kids do when they’re excited about something. Something BIG.

  The white light, the moonlight, finds me. The four rectangles do a dance and spin around me on the floor. A sort of cone of whiteness, of moon-lightness, grows up off the floor and twirls around me. And in this tornado of white, sparkly light I hear everything Dad said all over again in my head. I hear him say I shouldn’t play with things I don’t understand. But this doesn’t feel like playing.

  It’s more than playing, it’s like exploring or more like freaking-the-heck-out but trying to stay cool because I have to see what happens next. It’s about survival. And no one understands the need to survive more than Dad. And whatever it is, whatever the white, sparkly light or Planet Popular will actually do to me, it’s better than being invisible and used by a bunch of peacocks.

  That’s what I tell myself anyway. It’s the most peacock thing that has ever happened to me on a Saturday night––much better than my usual watching TV with Oso, now alone, and writing in my dodo diary which I totally stopped doing because, let’s face it, how many times can a person write, nothing happened today.

  Tonight is different than all my other Saturday nights. In the spinning cone of white light, I remember telling Hayden exactly what I want. And then I hear Hayden warn me that Planet Popular might not be what I think. And I hear him say I won’t come back and then I think about Oso. And how I miss him.

  Through the veil of light the white orb comes at me super slowly, darting one way and then the other. Then, in a hot minute I’m back on the island, sitting in the sand. Listening to the waves. I’m not even wearing my lucky outfit anymore. I totally forgot that Planet Popular dresses people. And I really like the dress, at first. I sit in the sand and look up at the palm trees, squinting in the sunshine. I scoot deeper into the squishy warmth of the sand beneath me and wonder why first contact with Planet Popular is a deserted island. I mean, I would have guessed that Planet Popular would have been nothing but dance clubs and parties and tall buildings and lots of malls and shoes everywhere and super-hot guys. Emphasis on super-hot guys. And where are they anyway? I’ve always wanted to see the ocean but I don’t really get the whole deserted island thing. I like it, But I just don’t get it, yet.

  And honestly I’m not thinking about much of anything when I first get here. I just love the feel of the sun on my shoulders and I hear my mom in my head, grilling me. Had I put sunscreen on my ears, because a person doesn’t ever want to burn their ears, and how lily-white skin turns to a crisp. I run for the shade. And there’s this huge kerplop. Right in front of me. My heart beat faster than the beats of any Techno song. I miss my Techno and I hadn’t even been gone for five minutes.

  I crouch down low and scrape my butt on the bark of a palm tree and right in front of me is this coconut. I pick it up. That’s the kerplop I hear. A bunch of coconuts lay in the sand. I kind of like the feel of the stringy, hard coconut skin. It isn’t warm and fuzzy or anything, but holding it makes me feel better. The coconut and I stand tall in the shade of the palm tree. I still don’t see a single solitary person. As far as I’m concerned Planet Popular is a rip off.

  When I go back I’m going to kill Hayden for lying to me. And then I wonder how cruel Hayden can really be. Maybe it was all a trick. I am some sort of Peacock Sacrifice. If I travel here Adrianne doesn’t have to worry about what she failed to do. They told me it was a place I most wanted to go, then it ends up being the polar opposite. Knowing I would go. Knowing how much I wanted to be a peacock.

  “Hello?” I yell.

  No reply.

  I grip the coconut tighter, hoping it will bring me some kind of luck. But I never really heard of lucky coconuts. I reach into my back pocket. And when I don’t have pockets, since I’m wearing the same linen dress as the last time, I can’t catch my breath. The message and the rabbit’s foot are gone. They didn’t AP with me. Duh, neither did my clothes.

  “Hello?” I yell again. Now, I won’t be able to fin
d the peacock treasure, what I was certain would be waiting for me under the X on the map that I don’t have. What I’m sure Adrianne failed to find. And I have no clue how to solve the riddle of the seven words I don’t understand that are also on the map that I don’t have. Not that I know what those seven words mean.

  Me and the coconut walk around in circles searching for the map with the X and the message, in case it dropped out of my pocket. But all I see is sand slipping between my toes. Lots and lots of sand.

  My feet feel heavy. I’m more alone than ever. And I wonder how it can be day here and night back home when I have the most vivid dream, or vision. I mean you can’t dream when you’re awake, right. Astral projecting makes me sort of fuzzy-tired. I see something dark and small. Like a tail. It sticks out of the bushes behind me and I run. I run toward it because maybe I’m not all alone. And then I think I hear a bark. One single bark.

  A tail bats around a sea of overgrown leaves all around me. And I chase the tail, the small stubby kind just like Oso used to have. I stand still for a second to see if I can find exactly where he is headed and then something brushes against my leg. A dog that looks just like Oso runs right up to me. I drop the coconut and pet him. I get down on my knees and wrap my arms around his neck and he licks my face and his fur smells just like Oso’s used to. And my eyes fill with tears. Because I know I’m hallucinating. Because that’s what people do when they get stranded on desert islands. The dog rubs up against my legs again and I pet him.

  And then something else rattles around in the bushes. Another tail. The coconut, Oso and I run to get a better look. Only it isn’t a tail. It’s like a darkness. A shadow. Shadow people. And it’s weird chasing a shadow. And I bend down low and hug Oso again. “It’s a doppelganger,” I tell him. “A shadow person.” And Oso tilts his head like he understands. Like he always used to when I would tell him my secrets.

  On the Internet it said that the fact doppelgangers don’t seem to reflect light has led to theories that they are from an alternate universe with different laws of physics or maybe they’re caught in a trap between two physical universes. But, I’m not the physics expert. Mitch is. I’m not an expert about anything.

  “I’m scared,” I tell Oso.

  But he just looks at the coconut and licks my hand then licks the coconut. Then he runs off into the jungle.

  I run after him, calling for him, all the while gripping the coconut. Oso doesn’t stop. He keeps on running. Just like old times. And in the middle of a small clearing, I stop to catch my breath when Oso starts barking. I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

  And I realize I haven’t really kept track of where I am. I don’t know how to get back to the beach. But I keep running after Oso anyway, into the jungle, and hit my head on something hard.

  I don’t know how much time passes until I finally wake up. But I wake with a headache and when I get to my feet Hayden’s older brother is walking up to me.

  “Hi,” is all he says, unfazed.

  “Hi,” I say.

  I look around the jungle for Oso, but I’m not in the jungle anymore. I’m sitting in the middle of a parking lot of a school. In the middle of a lane with rows of cars, really nice cars, on either side of me. And right then is the first time I know, I really believe, I might never get home. And I understand what that really means more than I did before. And now I’m not so down with it. But I keep thinking that being the James T. Kirk of Peacocks will be worth it. Hayden’s older brother gives me a hand up. We walk to the school together. He holds the door to the school open and says, “We’re late.”

  The next thing I know I’m sitting in class. Hayden’s older brother sits next to me. I so don’t belong here. I’m in freaking high school. A buzzer sounds after physics class and Hayden’s older brother walks up to me.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Ok,” I say because I don’t know what else to say and when I can’t think of anything to say I usually agree with everyone.

  “Wait, where are we going?” I say.

  “What are you kidding me?” And he holds my hand. And we walk down the hall together. And then he turns around and he holds my other hand and it happens. It just happens so fast. Not like in the movies at all, where it’s this big freaking deal or it’s during some date at a movie. Hayden’s older brother kisses me. My first kiss.

  My first kiss is with a freaking doppelganger. A shadow person. But, he seems so, real. And I get over it pretty quick because he tastes like vanilla ice cream and red hots. I have no idea why he tastes like vanilla ice cream and red hots but I want to kiss him again this time so I’ll remember it. The whole second kiss. Only this time the kiss is crazier. Weirder. He opens his mouth and in the middle of the kiss his tongue rolls over mine. I laugh. Because, sometimes, when I don’t know what else to do, I laugh.

  “What is it?” he says.

  “It tickles,” I say.

  “Since when?”

  “I don’t know, it just, does.”

  “Roxie, you’re a riot. It’s what I love about you.” He laughs.

  I’m trapped in the body of a popular girl. A way older popular girl. And I’m doing older, popular girl things. And my knees go all wobbly. I feel my forehead, because I can’t believe this is really happening, even though I know it is, but it could be a fever-induced dream instead just because of how wobbly I feel. I look around to see if there’s any trace of my attic around, like maybe I can still see the portal that sucked me in. But there isn’t anything except couples, like us, talking in whispers and a bunch of jocks running through the hall. They slap high-fives to Hayden’s brother.

  “Hayden, dude.”

  Hayden. No way. I kissed Hayden? If this guy is Hayden, then it’s years from now. I mean years from eighth grade. And we’re dating. And if Hayden’s right about me being popular, then he must be right about other things. But Hayden looks so different. I look down at my twins. I look different too. Only, I feel the same inside. Like regular Roxie.

  “Hey Roxie. Looking good,” a guy says. He jumps up to touch a banner hanging from the ceiling.

  I. Look. Good.

  The black banner is all glittery with blue waves and big, white painted letters that read, “One Enchanted Night Homecoming Dance.” Homecoming. Dance. Eight o’clock. Tonight.

  “Hayden, coach called a meeting after school.” The jumping peacock says.

  “K, I’ll see you after cheer practice,” Hayden lets go of my hand.

  I’m. A. Cheerleader.

  Whoa. I look down at my outfit. Yep. I’m wearing a tight top that says BT, which stands for Oakdale Township. The full name of the high school is OTHSC, Oakdale Township High School Central and I think that’s the longest name for a high school, but whatever. I’m a cheerleader. I’m in high school. With a boyfriend I apparently kiss all the time. And I’ve found the alternate universe where I’m nothing like my old self and a lot like Queen Roxie, the one the dream compass spelled out in the smelly garage two Christmases ago. I have to find a mirror.

  “Roxie, six o’clock, we’ve got pictures at Landon’s house,” Hayden says.

  He looks so fine. All super-blonde with bluer-than-blue eyes. Super-tall, and his smile. And I have a date. But, not just any date. A date to Homecoming with the most amazing guy and from the way everyone looks at us, we are the IT couple. Every high school has one. I’m being fawned over. Just. Wow. I’m dizzy. I guess it takes a lot of energy to be a peacock.

  I run to the bathroom and stare in the mirror. I don’t look like me. I take a deep breath and walk a little closer to the mirror. I’m wearing mascara and blush and my hair has these awesome highlights and great braids. Braids I don’t even know how to make. I flunked braid as a little girl. And then I see her. She steps out of the stall.

  “Adrianne?” I say all excited. She’ll be able to tell me what the freak is going on.

  Only she just looks down and washes her hands. Like she’s seen a ghost. I run after her.
<
br />   “Adrianne!”

  She turns around. “Yeah.” She’s wearing Arizona brand jeans and doesn’t look like she’s brushed her hair or done her makeup in days, years. She doesn’t have any mascara on and it sends shivers down my spine, much scarier than her goth look in my way-too-dark attic at midnight on Halloween. She says yeah like we’ve never talked before.

  And right then I want to go home. I wish I’d never bounced. I wished I’d listened to Hayden, well the one I never kissed, the one I knew in eighth grade, in a different world. The world where I wasn’t going to Homecoming with him. Because of what stood in front of me. The strangest sight evah. A peacock who isn’t a peacock anymore. And as messed up as it is that she’s the popular girl at school, it’s even more messed up when she isn’t. I can’t explain it. It’s as if someone just changed The Law Of The Jungle and even though I’m on the winning side, I just can’t deal with how weird it feels. At least at first.