by Kat Shepherd
“I get that, but what am I gonna do? At least you guys did research and made a plan. You’ve all got it together. If I go back down there, knowing me, I’d probably just mess everything up.” Maggie picked at her shoelace.
Rebecca bent her head so that she was looking into Maggie’s eyes. “Remember when we both got the flu in second grade and Carolyn Hanson started calling me Barf Girl after I threw up on my math book? She and all her friends followed me around every recess for a week, making fun of me until I cried.”
“Ugh, Carolyn was the worst.”
“Yeah, she was awful. But you stopped her, remember? You were still sick, but you made your mom let you come to school anyway, and that day at recess you told them off so hard, they were all in tears when you walked away. They never bothered me again. You stand up for people, and you don’t care what the consequences are; you just do what’s right. You were totally fearless that day. And you made me feel braver, too. You still do.”
A loud, long wail rent the air, and Clio’s and Tanya’s voices stopped abruptly. Rebecca stood up and leaned down, offering her hand to Maggie. “Please, Mags. We have to get down there, and I am so scared. I can’t do this without you.”
Maggie reached up and squeezed Rebecca’s hand. “So you promise you have no idea what you’re doing, then, either?”
Rebecca pulled her friend to her feet. “I promise I have no idea what I’m doing. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER
14
THEY RETURNED TO chaos. Changeling-Kyle’s waxy face had turned a deep red, and his screams filled the kitchen. He wouldn’t even look at Tanya, who was trying to entice him to play with some twigs and leaves she had gathered from outside. A teething ring lay on the floor near his high chair, and Clio was nursing another bite on her hand. “You’d think I would have learned by now,” she mumbled.
Rebecca rushed over and clapped her hands to get the baby’s attention. “Hi, Kyle-bear. Are you hungry?” At the word hungry, his eyes lit up. A forked tongue snaked out and licked eagerly at his leathery lips. Rebecca fought the urge to gag. “I thought so! We’re going to make a yummy special cupcake just for you.”
Maggie and Tanya quickly began unloading the supplies from Rebecca’s bag while Clio rummaged through the first aid kit and found something for her hand. Rebecca began to sing as she turned on the oven to preheat it, her ragged voice barely rising above the sound of their nervous preparations.
“Hot cross buns
Hot cross buns
One a penny, two a penny
Hot cross buns.”
To save time, Rebecca had mixed the batter at home and stored it in a Tupperware bowl. All she had to do now was prepare the eggs. Kyle watched her intently as she took off the lid and stirred the batter with a wooden spoon. Behind her, Maggie and Tanya carefully removed the eggs from an egg carton and joined in her song. Clio, her hand clean and bandaged, took over the stirring from Rebecca.
Now came the difficult part. While Maggie and Tanya lined the empty carton with foil, Rebecca picked up the first egg and, with hands shaking, used the tip of a small paring knife to gently scratch a circle around the top. Once she had etched the circle completely, she pushed the knife tip into the crack she had made. In her anxiety, she pushed the knife tip too hard and the egg collapsed, shattering into a dozen pieces and soaking her hands with yolk. Kyle squealed with delight. “Well, at least you’re not screaming,” Rebecca said to him, and the other girls laughed nervously.
Rinsing her hands, Rebecca took a deep breath. She tried to think only of what she had to do next: cut the eggs. But she couldn’t help worrying about what would happen after that. What would Changeling-Kyle turn into? Would it hurt them? And even worse, what if they were wrong, and this was the real Kyle? What if he stayed like this forever?
Relax. She closed her eyes. Focus.
Rebecca remembered standing in her own kitchen with Nai Nai at her side, sunlight streaming through the window above the sink. Every fall, Rebecca used to help Nai Nai make mooncakes, and Nai Nai would guide her as she measured out the precise mix of kansui, golden syrup, oil, and cake flour to make the dough turn a perfect golden yellow. That last year when Nai Nai was sick, she had sat on a kitchen chair with a fuzzy, hand-knit hat covering her bald head and watched as Rebecca went through each step, chiming in when she was needed. “Just a pinch of salt in the egg yolk.”
Rebecca remembered the pride she had felt when her beautiful mooncakes came out of the oven. Nai Nai had beamed when she took her first bite. “Hen hao. Perfect!”
Rebecca picked up the second egg, picturing Nai Nai standing beside her. Again she carefully etched a circle around the top of the egg with her paring knife. Then, slowly and carefully, she burrowed the tip of the knife into the crack she had carved in the egg. Gently, she wiggled the tip back and forth until it slipped under the shell, and she popped the top off the egg. Rebecca let out the breath she had been holding. She emptied the egg into a small bowl and rinsed the shell carefully in the sink. Kyle’s dark eyes brimmed with curiosity.
“Watch this, Kyle,” Rebecca said. She spooned a small amount of batter into the egg and then nestled it into the carton. Kyle gaped and squirmed with confused excitement. “Now we’re going to bake it.” Rebecca put the carton onto a metal baking sheet and slid it into the oven. He shrieked and began rocking wildly in his high chair.
“Easy, easy!” Maggie cried, and she rushed to grab the high chair before it tipped over. Kyle’s hairy hands flailed wildly.
Clio looked down at the timer on her phone. “We just have to keep him entertained for seven more minutes,” she said tensely.
“And then what?” Tanya asked as she slipped a teething ring onto his high chair tray, keeping well out of reach of Kyle’s snapping jaws.
“Then I guess we’ll find out if your experiment worked,” Rebecca answered. “But in the meantime, we can try this.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a brown plastic recorder.
“A recorder? Seriously? Is this third-grade music class?” Maggie asked.
Rebecca’s cheeks turned a deep scarlet. “It’s all I could find. And Maggie, you’re going to have to play it. You know I don’t have a musical bone in my body.” She passed the instrument into Maggie’s open hand.
“It’s true,” Maggie said. “You are the most terrible musician I have ever heard. I didn’t even think it was possible to play a recorder out of tune, but somehow you managed it.”
“Is she really that bad?” Clio whispered to Tanya.
Tanya nodded and leaned in closer to Clio. “Our music teacher made Rebecca lip-synch during the recorder concert. Have you ever heard of anyone lip-synching on a recorder?”
Clio’s jaw dropped, and a bark of surprised laughter left her mouth.
Kyle let out a low, animal whine and clawed at his high chair tray. “Hurry up, Mags! It’s all about you right now,” Rebecca said.
“Yeah, because who doesn’t want to impress a baby-monster, right?” Maggie said with a nervous grin. Kyle’s wriggling grew more violent.
“Maggie!” Rebecca said impatiently.
“Okay, okay … take it easy! I got this,” Maggie answered, and put the recorder to her lips. Kyle and the girls grew quiet. She closed her eyes, and the lilting opening strains of “Stairway to Heaven” filled the anticipatory silence of the room.
“Really, Mags? Led Zeppelin?” Tanya whispered.
“It’s all I can remember how to play!” Maggie hissed, and returned to her playing.
Tanya smirked and turned to Clio. “Our music teacher was really into classic rock,” she explained.
“Whatever it is, I think it’s working,” Clio said softly, pointing at Kyle. His sunken eyes closed sleepily, and his wiry limbs relaxed. Clio checked the timer. “Maggie, you just need to keep playing for about five more minutes.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Tanya whispered. “The song is, like, eight minutes long. Half the audience fell asleep during the thi
rd-grade concert.”
Rebecca clicked on the oven light and bent forward, peering through the window to check the egg-cake. “It’s almost ready,” she called softly, and felt her neck and shoulders relax. For this moment, at least, everything was under control.
“That actually sounds really good,” Clio said. Maggie shrugged, and her lips curved into a smile around the recorder’s mouthpiece. Kyle’s breathing deepened, and the room fell into a relaxed hush.
When Clio’s timer went off, Kyle screamed. Forgetting herself, Rebecca threw open the oven door and reached for the hot pan, burning her fingers. “Ouch!” she hissed, and Kyle let out a guttural growl of pleasure.
Tanya tossed her a pair of oven mitts. Rebecca pulled out the pan and turned off the oven, peeking in the eggshell to find the cake cooked a perfect golden brown. Rebecca looked at the other girls. “It’s ready.”
Maggie moved closer to the back door, checking to make sure it was unlocked. Tanya slung a small pack on her back. Clio bent to tighten the laces on her running shoes and headed to the front door. Rebecca looked at everyone. “Everybody good?” she asked.
“I think we’re as ready as we can be,” Clio answered, and the other girls gave short nods.
“Here we go,” Rebecca said under her breath. She turned to Kyle. “Look, Kyle! Here’s your special cupcake just for you.” She tapped the egg cake on the counter and gently started to peel the shell off, holding it up to show Kyle what she was doing. Slowly and gently, she placed the cake on the high chair tray in front of him.
The baby’s eyes widened and grew darker, until even the whites had turned jet-black. His wan face flushed between a jaundiced yellow and a muddy maroon, and the veins of his high forehead bulged dangerously.
“What’s happening?” Clio called from the front hall.
“I think he’s changing!” Tanya shouted. “Be ready!”
Rebecca gaped in horror as Kyle’s limbs snapped and stretched into thin, sinewy branches knotted with bulging pustules of fungus. His gnarled fingers lengthened into long, pale mushrooms, spores falling from them like rotten snow. Scales spread across his feet, the toes bending into long, sharp talons. Mildew grew on the pale blue onesie he wore, and it tore open, revealing a body of rotting wood.
Rebecca felt the bile rising in her throat. Every part of her wanted to run screaming from the house and get as far away as possible from the monster in front of her. The very idea that she had kissed and cuddled this putrid creature was almost more than she could bear. It was only the image of Kyle—the real Kyle—somewhere in the woods that kept her feet rooted and her eyes on the face of the imposter that had taken his place.
The changeling’s face caved like a rotted apple, the black, sunken eyes retreating deeper to form empty hollows in the creature’s pitted face. Cup-shaped fungus sprouted where the ears had been, and the sharp teeth grew more jagged. The dark maw of the mouth opened, and a high, feral whine rent the air.
Its ropy arms tore at the high chair, flinging the tray to the floor, and it leaped across the room in a puff of foul-smelling powder. Drips of slime streaked the counter as it shot past, knocking Rebecca to the floor.
“Did it go out the back door?” Clio shouted.
“Not past me!” Maggie called. “Didn’t it go out the front?”
“No! Where is it?”
Rebecca ran toward the front door. “You mean it’s gone already?”
“I’ll check the windows,” Tanya said. The girls split up and began a search of the first floor.
Rebecca stopped. “I think I know where it went.” She ran for the stairs. The other girls started to follow. “Wait here,” she said, “and be ready to run.” Rebecca noticed a streak of slime at the top of the banister as she sprinted past to Kyle’s room.
She felt the squish of crushed vegetation beneath her feet as she walked through the threshold, brushing away the clammy tendrils of cobweb that clung to her face. The changeling stood in Kyle’s crib, its mushroomed hands gripping the rail and its malformed face twisted into a silent howl of rage and anguish. A deluge of bright red maple leaves spilled out of the crib like blood from a wound.
In that moment, Rebecca felt not just horror but pity as well. The changeling was obviously suffering in some way. Maybe by helping Kyle, she could help this poor creature, too. “Hey, little one, I know you’re scared and you want to go home. Let us help you. We can take you home.”
The changeling turned and fixated on her face. Rebecca gave a cautious smile and reached out to the creature. “Why don’t you take my hand and we’ll go together?” She walked slowly toward the creature, wading through the rising pile of leaves that still poured from the crib.
As she got closer, the flood of leaves stopped. The house was completely silent. No creaking wood, no ticking clocks. No hiss of anxious girls whispering below. Just the gentle rustle of her legs brushing through the knee-high crimson carpet. One step closer. There. She could almost touch the misshapen white hand that gripped the rail of the crib.
The changeling crouched uncertainly. It lifted one hand from the railing and slowly stretched it toward Rebecca. She could feel the cool velvet of the mushroom caps as the creature’s fingertips brushed against hers. “Come on, little one,” she whispered. “Let’s get you home.”
The changeling’s fingers clamped over her wrist with a viselike grip, and it let out a piercing wail that brought Rebecca to her knees. Leaves came rushing out of the crib, covering her. She choked on their damp smell and struggled to free herself from the creature’s grip, but it was too strong. As the rising tide of foliage covered her face, Rebecca began to panic. Leaves blocked her eyes and mouth. They pressed against her nostrils and slapped against her ears. Rebecca used her free arm to claw them from her face—to sweep them away so that she could see or hear. But with every brush of her arm, still more spilled from between the slats of the crib.
With a final crushing squeeze, the changeling’s grip released, and Rebecca jerked her arm free. She struggled against the growing weight on top of her, desperate for air, drowning in red. She was unprepared for the rake of talons against her shoulders, and she screamed as they tore at her, pushing down sharply, forcing her head to the floor. The changeling’s claws dug in and pushed off hard, and she heard the crash of a lamp across the room.
The shower of leaves stopped.
Rebecca quickly dug herself out of the pile and stood up, dazed and gasping for air. Damp leaves filled the room to above her waist. Kyle’s favorite lamp, the one that was shaped like a sheep, lay on its side on the table next to the open window. The screen was torn open, and familiar handprints streaked the sill.
The changeling was gone.
CHAPTER
15
REBECCA FLEW DOWNSTAIRS. “It went out Kyle’s window! Come on!”
Maggie grabbed Rebecca’s arm. “Wait, Rebecca! You’re bleeding! What happened?”
“I’m fine; we’ll take care of it later. Hurry!”
The four girls ran out the front door and over to the yard beneath Kyle’s window. A slippery new patch of slime mold grew in the spot where the changeling had landed. Several white termite grubs wriggled nearby.
Tanya crouched down to unzip her backpack and pulled out a small, cylindrical lamp.
“What is that?” Maggie asked.
“It’s my tracker,” Tanya said. “I just need to set it up.”
“So which way did it go?” Clio asked, looking around.
“It must be long gone by now,” Maggie said.
“I don’t think so.” Rebecca scanned the surrounding forest. She could still feel the changeling nearby, watching them. She heard the rustle of branches and turned to see a flash of movement in the bushes at the forest’s edge. “Over there!”
“Don’t wait for me,” Tanya said. “You’re the chasers, remember? I’m just the backup plan. Don’t worry. I’ll find you. Go!”
The other girls ran toward the changeling, who scampered away and gr
abbed a low-hanging branch to swing onto a nearby tree.
“Nobody said it could swing around like a monkey!” Maggie said, already panting. “How are we going to catch it now? I mean, have you ever heard of anyone actually catching a monkey?”
“Leopards do,” Clio answered, “but we don’t need to catch it; we just have to follow it. Keep moving!” She picked up her pace and darted forward, Rebecca at her side. Maggie followed.
Clio and Rebecca raced behind the changeling, managing to keep up just enough to hold it in their line of sight. Its wiry limbs and taloned feet scuttled through the foliage, allowing the creature to leap easily from tree to tree.
Maggie puffed along behind them, pausing occasionally to massage the stitch in her side. Finally she stopped. “I’m beat. You guys keep moving. I’ll wait for Tanya.”
Rebecca and Clio nodded and pushed forward, sprinting now to keep pace with the creature. The pale silhouette of Maggie faded in the distance behind them, and the forest grew thicker. Soon the treetops knit together so tightly that the moonlight no longer filtered through to the forest floor. The girls’ eyes struggled to follow the faint shape above them.
There was a crash from a nearby tree, and the changeling dropped like a stone. It landed with a sickening thud like an ax on rotten wood, and the girls stopped, stunned. They crept forward cautiously. “Is it dead?” Clio asked.
“It can’t be,” Rebecca said anxiously. “We need it alive; otherwise we’ll never find Kyle!”
With a harsh grunt, the creature lurched up and the girls jumped back, startled. A small scream escaped from Rebecca’s lips, but the changeling didn’t even seem to hear her. It shook itself, then padded off unsteadily toward the heart of the forest, moving with a lopsided gait.
“I think it might be hurt,” Rebecca said. “It’s slowed down some. Poor thing.”
“Poor thing?! That little monster?” Clio shuddered. “I’m just happy we don’t have to sprint anymore. I don’t think I could have kept up that pace much longer.”