by B. A. Frade
Leaving Riley safely in the cage, we went upstairs and said good night.
Duke had one last thing to say before he went home. He said to Sam, “I’m sorry I broke the window.”
I stood with Sam and Cassie by the front door, watching him cross the yard.
I smiled.
The best writer had finished the story.
We’d come to “The End.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You know what? I’m going to try out for the softball team,” I told Sam when we woke up the next morning. We were lying in our sleeping bags, still wearing the clothes from the moon celebration. After Duke had gone home, we all crashed. It had been an exhausting weekend.
“I’m going to the winter dance with Duke,” Sam said, rolling on her side to face me.
“Wait. What? He asked you?” I was shocked. “When?”
“Last night. Just before he left…” She blushed. “He said he’d been trying to ask, but it never went right.”
I laughed. “Nothing like a little danger to bring us all together.” I glanced toward the basement door. “And you’re going to let Riley be your stylist?”
“Of course,” Sam said. “She’ll be really excited.”
I leaned back into my pillow and asked, “Have you see her yet?”
“No.” Sam sat up. “I heard Cassie get up hours ago. I bet they’re together.”
The sun was high in the sky. The danger had passed.
We got up and stumbled, lazy and still tired, into the kitchen.
“Breakfast is ready,” Cassie told us, sweeping her arm toward a beautifully set table. She was wearing the flowered apron.
Riley was sitting at the table. “Hi,” she said with a grin. “Look at us. We all survived another full moon. I wish Cassie would let me stay out! It’s totally safe.” She seemed to know she transformed but forgot what happened when she was a wolf. We all exchanged glances in a silent agreement not to tell her.
Cassie set a casserole dish on the table. With dramatic flair, she swept back the lid. The dish was filled with granola bars.
“These are from Duke.” Cassie giggled. It was nice to see this side of her again. I liked her so much better when I wasn’t suspicious and she wasn’t creepy. She put her hand on Riley’s head. “I have a strong feeling you’ll love them.”
“YUM!” Riley said, grabbing one and ripping off the wrapper.
I smiled. Then I jumped. And gasped.
“What?!” Sam stood up so fast, she knocked back her chair.
“AUGH!” I pointed at the back door and shrieked, “Zombie!”
The look on Sam’s face was so full of terror that I laughed until I cried.
“It might take me awhile to get used to the fact that werewolves actually exist,” Sam admitted, rolling her eyes at me. She went to let Duke come in while Cassie pulled up an extra chair.
When we all sat down, Cassie said, “I thought I could get through the night without telling Sam what was going on.”
“I’d have never believed you anyway,” Sam said.
“You could have told me,” I put in. “I’d have believed you.” To be honest, I don’t know what I would have believed. There was no way to be sure. The Scaremaster and his possessed journal had put me on edge even before I’d arrived for the weekend. I remember that feeling in my gut as if I was waiting for something to happen. And then it did.
Cassie gave a small snort. “I didn’t want to tell you, Emma. This is a secret. A family secret.”
“Not anymore,” I said, glancing at all the faces around the table. Duke shrugged.
“Yeah,” Cassie said. She stood up and got a knife from the kitchen. “That’s why we have to make a blood pact never to tell. Riley’s secret has to stay in this room.” She held out the kitchen knife. The blade glinted. “Who wants to be the first to promise?”
My heart skipped two beats. I got up and backed away from the table. “I’m not cutting myself to…” Then I realized she was kidding. “I guess I’m still wound up,” I admitted, knowing it was true because there was one last thing I had to deal with before the weekend ended.
Cassie put down the knife with a laugh. “Not blood. But we do need to make a pact.”
“Be right back.” Sam dashed from the room and came back a minute later with her telescope. “We swear on the moon to keep what happened here this weekend a secret.” She set it upright in the middle of the table and wrapped her hand around the bottom.
I put my hand directly above hers and closed my fingers tight.
Duke went next, followed by Cassie and Riley. The telescope transformed into a pillar of promises.
Riley said, “This secret is between the five of us and the Man in the Moon.”
We all agreed, and the pact was sealed.
I never had a better breakfast. The granola bars were delicious, and Cassie had made fruit salad and mini pancakes as well. Plus, we still had a few of the zombie’s original donuts.
As we finished up, Sam said, “The adults won’t be here for a few hours. What should we do?”
“Can we watch the movie again?” Riley asked. I realized she was already dressed for the day in clean, new clothes. Cassie must have made sure she had something to wear when she transitioned back.
Sam’s eyes lit up. “The moon documentary?” She was excited. “Great idea!” Looking at me, she added, “You missed the whole first half.”
Riley shook her head. “Not the moon one. My movie.”
“Oh.” Sam’s face fell, but she agreed. “Okay. Emma missed part of that one too.”
We piled on the couch. Before sitting down, I took off the silver chain and handed the pendant back to Duke. “Funny gift,” I said. “Very useful too. But we don’t need it anymore.”
“Silver works against vampires too,” he said, giving it right back to me.
With a laugh, I said, “I guess I should keep it, then. You never know.” I fastened it back around my neck.
“I’ll get Sam one too,” Duke said. “Just in case.” He winked. As an added note, Duke said to me and Sam, “Oh, hey, I’ve been meaning to say thanks. My grandpa said you found Maggie. He loves that dog.”
Sam and I stared at each other for a long beat. We both laughed at the connection, but it made me feel unsettled. Again. There was something more to all these coincidences that sat like a stone in my belly.
Mom’s work schedule, the lost puppy at school, the mysterious new librarian who wasn’t our librarian at all, Mrs. L and the sick ferret, me coming to Sam’s, Riley’s secret, what happened in the park, even the fact that the reunion weekend was over a full moon… There could no longer be any doubt. EVERYTHING was connected, and somehow, the Scaremaster had been lurking at every step.
We’d outsmarted him, though, and I didn’t think he expected it. I also didn’t think he was the type to give up so easily.
The movie started, and this time, I paid attention. Riley had said that the journal was in the movie. Duke had said he’d seen “that movie” when I described the Scaremaster’s book. I had no idea what they meant, but I was determined to find out.
To my surprise, the book was briefly, casually mentioned in every interview. But it wasn’t really discussed until the zombie part. I leaned up in my seat and remained focused while a girl talked about how she’d found a journal in her locker but knew it wasn’t hers. She’d kept it anyway and discovered that there was a story in that book that came true!
The interview went on and on about the zombie, never going back to discuss the book’s role in the drama. I might have not even paid attention to the few sentences about the mysterious book if I hadn’t been looking for it or if I hadn’t been warned it was there.
“Do you want to show us the journal?” Duke asked when the film ended.
“We should fully investigate,” Sam said. “Maybe run some chemical tests on the composition of the paper to see if we can identify the source.”
I really didn’t want to touch that thi
ng ever, but that wasn’t an option. The weekend wasn’t really over till the Scaremaster was silenced. Maybe if we worked together, we could destroy it once and for all.
I went upstairs and dumped out my overnight bag, searched under the bed, even rummaged through her closet.
The journal was gone.
Unfortunately, I knew where to find it.
When my mom came to pick me up, I thanked Sam for hosting me. I told Cassie and Riley I looked forward to seeing them again, which was the truth. And I gave a hug to Duke. His face turned red when I threw myself at him, but he had the rest of middle school and all of high school to get used to it. Now that we were friends, I planned to hug him a lot.
Mom talked about her trip the whole way home. The business was good, and she thought it might lead to a promotion.
It wasn’t until we got into our apartment that Mom asked, “Anything interesting happen at Sam’s?”
“Nah,” I told her. “Just a plain ol’ boring weekend.”
Mom gave me a sideways glance. “Emma, remember after school on Friday? There was something you wanted to show me.”
“Nope,” I said. “It’s all good.” I told her I had homework and rushed into my room, closing the door behind me.
The journal was right where I expected it—back in my school backpack, just where I had left it.
I pulled it out and set it on my bed. For a long moment, I sat against my pillows, staring at the triangles on the cover, reflecting on the trouble the Scaremaster had caused. He had to be stopped.
I peeled back the cover. I expected a blank page and had an idea of what I wanted to write.
But the page wasn’t blank.
The title, Tales from the Scaremaster, was there. And under that: ACT II.
ACT TWO?
I grabbed a pen and wrote.
One act was enough.
The reply appeared immediately.
Silly Emma. You thought you could beat me.
I drew in a breath as more words appeared.
The Scaremaster has many stories to tell.
I didn’t reply. There was no use arguing with a possessed book.
Instead, I shut the cover and clasped it tight. I had to get rid of the Scaremaster’s journal forever.
I was shaking when I went out to the dumpster. Fear set in. What if the story really did go on? It was too terrible to consider.
At Sam’s, I’d tried to rip the journal pages, but they wouldn’t tear. I’d pulled at the leather cover, but it held firm. So what were my options? Fire? Water? I needed something permanent.
When I came up with the answer, I dashed back into the house, flying past my mom as she called out, “What are you doing?”
“Recycling,” I answered as I grabbed her sharpest crafting scissors.
“Good idea,” she said when I dashed back past her, out the door, and down to the dumpster.
For the next half hour, I cut the journal pages. Every single one. I chopped them out of the book, then sliced them into little pieces.
There was a part of me that hoped that librarians everywhere would understand. I wasn’t usually a destroyer of books. This one was special. This one had to go.
I made Scaremaster confetti and scattered it in the recycling bin.
The cover wouldn’t cut, so I dug into the spine with my scissors. I was a little surprised how easily the thing ripped then and was fascinated that the book broke into two equal parts. I mean, exactly equal. I’d clearly hit the Scaremaster’s weak spot.
Just to be completely sure the book was trash, I dug some long scratches into the leather cover to finish the job.
It was over. The journal would go out with the garbage, and that was the real end of the Scaremaster’s story.
As I went back to the apartment, I pledged that from here forward I would no longer write horror stories.
I was going to try my hand at science fiction.
Epilogue
“This is your fault.” Kaitlin Wang was furious. “You’re always joking around, Noah!” She marched passed him on the way to the mess hall. “Someday, your pranks are going to get you in real trouble.” She tucked her long brown hair under her Camp Redwood Vines cap, then looked at him over her shoulder. “When that happens, no one will be there to help you.”
“Whatever,” Noah muttered. It was only the first week of camp, and this was already his second trash assignment.
The first one he was by himself. It was just one afternoon. This time, Kaitlin was coming along. And it was for three whole days.
He wasn’t going to apologize to her. It was her choice after all. Sort of.
Kaitlin didn’t have to follow him to the boat dock. She didn’t have to hide in the trees while he drilled nail holes in the Red cabin’s kayak. And she certainly didn’t have to turn him in to the counselors after his Blue cabin won the trophy.
Who did she think she was? Nancy Drew?
It was ironic that she had told on him, and they had gotten punished together.
According to Director Robinson, Kaitlin shouldn’t have been out after curfew. Hers was a lesser crime, but still… a violation of camp rules.
Three days’ mess duty was a second strike violation. “Poor” Kaitlin had gotten dragged down with him, even though it was her first offense—first probably in her whole life.
For the rest of the summer, Noah would have to gauge his pranks more carefully while watching over his shoulder for Kaitlin the Super Snoop.
Kaitlin stomped into the mess hall, letting the door slam before Noah came through. The wire screen reverberated with a bang, just barely missing his nose.
He sighed. Three days of trash duty with the one person who hated him most in the world seemed worse than being sent home. Then again, his parents were on a silent meditation retreat. He had nowhere to go but forward.…
Noah pulled open the screen door and stepped into the hot, sweaty kitchen. It was a hundred degrees outside. In the kitchen, it had to be double that. His dark mop of hair flattened and stuck to his forehead.
“Welcome, Noah.” A young woman greeted him. Kaitlin was already standing next to her.
“Are you new?” Noah asked. This wasn’t the same cook from Tuesday. That cook was a guy. With prison tattoos. Everyone called him Spike, though Noah was pretty sure that wasn’t the name on his birth certificate.
For Spike, Noah had peeled hundreds of potatoes in addition to trash duty.
He wondered what torture this new cook had in mind.
“I’ve been around awhile,” she answered. Her midnight-black hair glistened under the fluorescent lights. It was so dark it was practically purple. There was a glint in her golden eyes when she said, “There’s so much to do. I need to start preparing dinner.” She pointed through two double swinging saloon-type doors into the dining area. “You two should get started.” She gave Noah a long, lingering look. “You know the drill.”
“Trash, trash, trash,” Kaitlin moaned, surveying the room. “There’s always so much garbage at camp.”
Campers were supposed to bus their own plates after meals. But there were always things left over: napkins, wrappers, paper cups. It was like they half cleaned and left the rest, knowing Noah would be there.
He sighed. The cook gave them each a pair of plastic gloves and a large white garbage bag. “When you are finished here, I have other tasks for you,” she said. Her voice held an edge that Noah couldn’t identify and he wondered what “other tasks” meant.
He didn’t ask. It didn’t matter. He was her prisoner for the next seventy-two hours. Noticing that she was grinning to herself in a secretive way, Noah watched as the cook disappeared back through the kitchen doors.
“You don’t have much to say, eh, Noah?” Kaitlin asked as they walked around the edge of the mess hall collecting paper products and leftover food. “You’re a sneaky guy, but not very chatty, huh?”
“Not to you,” Noah retorted, snidely adding, “I don’t know who you’ll tell.”
“I wasn’t the one who told on me.” Noah was angry. Sure he’d cheated, but it was all in fun. Everyone had laughed when the team boat sank. No one was hurt; the campers simply swam back to shore. “It was funny!” he said.
“No, it wasn’t,” Kaitlin said. “You’re lucky no one got hurt.”
“There was no risk,” Noah told her. “A good prankster knows how to keep it real.” He gave her a small grin. “I’m a professional.”
Kaitlin pulled up her plastic gloves and grabbed a half-eaten sandwich from the floor. As she dropped it in her trash bag, she said, “I want to be a reporter when I grow up. I’m always looking for a story. And I know, Noah Burns, that when you are around, something wild is going to happen.”
Noah grabbed a paper cup off a table and tossed it at her head. “You’re ruining my fun.” It missed, landing softly on the floor by her foot.
Kaitlin picked up the cup and wadded it in a ball. She threw it back at him with such force and precision, it bounced off his forehead.
Kaitlin smiled. “You’re looking at the captain of the middle school tennis team and twelve-year-old regional Slam Jam basketball champion.”
“La-di-da,” Noah mocked. “I’m on the all-state improvisational comedy team.” It wasn’t true. He was up for the team, having made it through several rounds of tryouts, but his parents couldn’t take him to the finals. They were too busy “finding themselves,” as always.
The next hour passed in silence. He could see that Kaitlin wanted to talk but held her tongue. He wasn’t very good at conversation anyway. It was better this way.
Just as they were finishing up, the new cook popped her head out of the kitchen. Her eyes had seemed gold when he’d first looked, but now they appeared brown or blue or…
Noah squinted at her. It might have been his imagination, but they kept changing.
“Trash dumpster is out back.” She pointed toward the rear of the building. “After you’re done here, come to the kitchen for your next assignment.”