Behind her the dock groaned, and it rolled under her feet. Emily whirled around, startled.
“Hey, this place you found—it’s cool,” Taylor said. Dressed like Emily in a two-piece swimsuit, she stood at the foot of the dock, a pleased smile on her face.
Trying not to treat Taylor as an intruder, Emily searched for the right thing to say, but before she could say anything, Taylor shrugged and explained, “I followed you. Okay?”
Emily nodded. “I got tired of listening to all those rules.”
“Me too.” Taylor walked gingerly until she was at Emily’s side. “The dock rocks,” she said, then giggled.
“It’s old,” Emily said, “but I don’t think there’s any problem with it.”
Taylor twisted to glance toward the sign. “That says to keep off.”
“It doesn’t mean us,” Emily said. “The dock seems safe enough. I think they just don’t want a whole bunch of kids on it at the same time.”
Taylor leaned over to examine the water. “It’s deep down there,” she said, “and there are a lot of rocks. Do you think there are snakes?”
“Not near the camp,” Emily said. “My dad told me once that cottonmouths try to avoid people.”
“Good,” Taylor said. “I like to swim, but not with snakes.” Emily noticed that Taylor’s pale skin was already glowing pink.
“Didn’t you put on sunblock?” Emily asked.
“I didn’t bring any,” Taylor said. She quickly straightened and turned to face Emily, defensive.
“I’ve got some sunblock in my room that hardly anybody else uses except doctors and their families,” Emily said quickly. “You can have some. You haven’t been out in the sun much. You’re going to get a bad burn if you don’t use anything.”
Taylor began to look interested. “How come hardly anybody uses it?”
“Because it’s a total block and terribly expensive,” Emily answered.
Taylor smiled. “Well, okay, then,” she said. “Lead me to it.”
A few minutes later, as Emily finished rubbing sunblock into Taylor’s back and shoulders, Taylor said, “I don’t care if some people say I look weird. I like to be different. Does it bother you?”
“No,” Emily said. “I think you should look any way you want to look.”
“Any way?”
“Sure,” Emily said. “Whatever makes you happy.” She thought about her older sisters and her parents’ disappointment that she wasn’t just like them. “People can’t be carbon copies of other people,” she said.
“Unless they want to be,” Taylor added.
Emily nodded and tried not to smile as she momentarily wondered what her parents would think if she came home with spiked pink-and-gold hair.
“Do you think the coach is finally through explaining all his rules and will let us go swimming now?” Taylor asked.
“Let’s find out,” Emily said. She threw open the bedroom door. “Race you!”
After a swim, beach volleyball, a shower, and lunch, Emily found herself captured by Haley and steered toward one of Camp Excel’s waiting vans. “I found the name and address of a curandero,” Haley said in a low voice, excitedly digging her fingers into Emily’s arm.
“Ouch,” Emily said, and tried to pull away.
“You could at least say thank you.” Haley shoved Emily into the backseat and squeezed in beside her.
“Okay, then, thank you,” Emily said. “How did you find him?”
“Computer room, Internet,” Haley said. “No problem. Did you bring any money?”
“Of course,” Emily told her. “It’s a sight-seeing and shopping trip, isn’t it?” She thought a moment, then confronted Haley. “How much is visiting this so-called folk healer going to cost?”
Haley looked pained. “Don’t be like that, Em. He’s a true healer. He doesn’t charge.”
Emily leaned back against the seat, relieved.
“He simply asks for donations,” Haley said. Quickly, she added, “Like a few dollars. I mean whatever you think his advice is worth. And he sells his special charms and candles. You understand he has to charge for those just to break even.”
Emily sighed and squeezed over even farther as at least a dozen Camp Excel campers climbed into the van. Taylor, getting into the front seat, smiled at Emily and waved.
Emily smiled back. “Why don’t we just visit antique shops or the local pizza place?” she asked Haley.
Haley fixed Emily with a firm gaze. “And take chances with your future? Absolutely not. I feel responsible for you because I introduced you to the runes in the first place. We’re going to keep the appointment I made with the curandero.”
Lampley’s picturesque brick courthouse and steeple towered over a square pocket park, complete with gazebo and historical marker. Facing the streets that surrounded it on three sides were wood-front shops that looked as if they came out of a small Western movie set. There was even a narrow, windowless building with a sign over the doorway: LAMPLEY HISTORICAL MUSEUM.
“We’ll meet back here in two hours. Don’t be late!” their driver cautioned.
The passengers scattered in every direction. “See you,” Taylor called to Emily as she jaywalked across the nearly empty street.
Haley hustled Emily halfway down the block before she stopped, pulled a scrap of paper from the pocket of her shorts, and studied it. “We have to find South A Street,” she said.
Emily looked back. “Why don’t we ask our driver?”
“No.” Haley frowned at Emily. “We’re not going to tell anyone about the curandero, and we’re absolutely not going to tell them what advice he gives.”
“No one will know? Good. Then they won’t think we’re crazy,” Emily said.
“That’s not why we can’t tell.” Haley rolled her eyes and threw a look of impatience at Emily. “We can’t tell because we don’t know where the evil directed at you is coming from. We have to keep secret the help the curandero will give you. Understand?”
Emily nodded, not wanting another lecture.
“Promise you won’t tell?” Haley persisted.
“Promise,” Emily said, wishing she hadn’t given in to Haley so easily. The runes were silly, but the curandero was a person, and Emily was both embarrassed at what he might think and afraid of what he might tell her.
It took Haley only a minute to get directions from a salesperson in the nearest shop. “It’s just one street over and down a few blocks,” Haley repeated to Emily.
The picturesque part of Lampley vanished at the end of South A Street, where the pavement deteriorated into a rutted dirt road. Dust flew up with each step, and two small, yapping terriers, roaming free, sniffed at the girls’ heels until they seemed satisfied that they meant no harm. White painted clapboard houses decorated with big porches and boxes overflowing with red geraniums became small homes with cluttered open carports and an occasional rusting car without wheels resting on cement blocks.
Emily was nervous about going too much farther out of town, but Haley finally stopped in front of a house with a chain-link fence. On it was a sign: YERBERIA.
“That means herb shop,” Haley explained happily. “This is the place.” She opened the gate and walked to the broken front step, reaching up to ring the doorbell. Emily followed.
The door was opened by a man wearing a spotless white shirt and trousers, a gold cross on a chain hanging halfway down his chest. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I am Alberto Salgado.”
“The curandero?” Haley asked.
“Sí. I am a curandero,” he said. “Are you Miss Haley Griffin?”
“Sí—uh—yes,” Haley said. “And this is Emily Wood, the one I told you about.”
“Please come into my shop,” Mr. Salgado said. He stepped aside, holding the door wide.
The dimly lit room smelled like fried onions and incense. Over the hum of a window air conditioner, a baby’s sleepy cries could be heard, and there were the clattering sounds of pans and dishes coming fro
m what must be a kitchen.
Two sides of the room were occupied by low cabinets on which were arrayed statues of saints, candles, and bottles that contained strange dark liquids. On a small table lay an assortment of charms and pendants beside a card on which was hand-printed, $15 APIECE.
The walls were covered with crucifixes of all sizes and framed prints of religious paintings. Rosaries hung from pegs on each side of a doorway leading into a hall. Facing the windows, in the middle of the center wall, stood what looked like a makeshift altar with statues and candles in glass holders placed on a lace-trimmed white cloth.
In front of the altar sat an overstuffed chair, the top, back, and armrests covered with huge crocheted doilies. Opposite the chair was a matching sofa, its original hues faded into a colorless smear.
Mr. Salgado motioned to the sofa, and Haley immediately sat down, pulling Emily with her.
As Mr. Salgado seated himself opposite them, Haley said, “Em has received two warnings from Loki, which she has drawn from the runes. She must be in danger, but we don’t know what it is or where it’s coming from.”
Mr. Salgado pursed his lips and shook his head. “I am not familiar with Loki or the runes.”
“You don’t know about Loki?”
“I follow my own path,” he explained. “Or, should I say, my father’s path, for he was a curandero before me. I give consultations and advise people on how to cure their illnesses or solve their problems. Occasionally, when it is necessary, I will go beyond giving advice in order to perform a purification rite.”
Emily squirmed to the edge of her seat. “Maybe we should—”
Haley leaned forward, ignoring her. “We know that Em is in danger. Will your way tell us what we can do about it?”
Mr. Salgado nodded. “If it is in my power,” he said. Before Haley could answer, he added, “I am considered a very successful curandero. In the winter, when I reside down in the valley, I sometimes receive as many as fifty clients a day.”
Emily attempted to stand. “I think we ought to—”
Haley grabbed her wrist, pulling her down. “Tell us what we should do,” she said to Mr. Salgado.
As he walked to the windows, lowering the shades to darken the room, Haley hissed at Emily, “Sit still, and keep quiet. This is for your own good.”
Mr. Salgado seated himself again, and Emily was surprised to see that he had wrapped a white robe over his clothing.
Although the light in the room was dim, Mr. Salgado reached out and took both of Emily’s hands in his. He bent his head over her open palms, studying them.
After a moment he raised his head, his face close to her own. “You are in good health,” he told her. “I can feel a vital energy passing through your body. The danger your friend spoke of does not come from any physical condition.”
Releasing her hands, he stood and lit the candles on the altar behind his chair. A spiral of smoke rose from the small incense bowl, and Emily wrinkled her nose at its oversweet aroma.
Mr. Salgado reached down to the floor next to his chair and picked up a lapboard. Next, he pulled an old, stained deck of ornate picture cards from a pocket in his robe and began to lay them out on the board.
“Tarot?” Haley asked as she leaned close to watch.
“No,” Mr. Salgado said. “I told you, I follow my own path.”
For a long moment Emily watched as Mr. Salgado swept up the cards, shuffled them, then laid them out again. During this time the room was silent except for low, murmuring whispers that occasionally escaped his lips.
When he finally drew the cards together and looked directly into Emily’s eyes, she leaned as far back against the sofa as she could and shivered. “What are you going to tell me?” she asked, dreading his answer.
“Your friend is right,” he said. “You are in danger.”
“How?” Emily asked. “Danger from what?”
“There is something locked inside you,” Mr. Salgado said. “As long as it is within you, you are in danger.”
“You said she was healthy,” Haley complained.
“The hidden thing is not something of the body. It is something of the mind.”
“What is it?” Emily asked, frightened in spite of her resolve not to believe.
“I do not know,” he said. “I see a death. Perhaps a second one.”
Emily shivered as cold gripped her neck and shoulders. She heard Haley gasp. “My death?” Emily whispered.
“I do not know,” Mr. Salgado answered. “All I can tell you is that the only way to counter this danger is to find what is locked inside you and rid yourself of it. No one can do this for you. You must do it yourself.”
“But if I don’t know what it is—”
“I think you know.”
“I don’t! Honestly!”
“Then you must search.”
“How?”
“I explained. I can’t tell you that. But I can give you a potion of special oils designed to ward off evil. Keep it on your person.” As if by magic, a small, clear plastic vial with a cork stopper appeared in Mr. Salgado’s right hand. Inside the three-inch tube Emily could see a dark sludge. As she took the vial from him, the substance swirled heavily and slowly like a thick oil.
“How will this help me?” she whispered.
“I cannot tell you that. I can only assure you that you’ll know when the time comes. In the meantime the potion will protect you.”
“Is that all you can say?” Emily demanded. “I need to know what to do.”
Haley rested a hand on Emily’s arm. “Keep the potion in your pocket,” she told her, again in charge. “We’ll meditate. Together we’ll search. We’ll find out what’s locked inside you.”
Emily stared from Mr. Salgado to Haley to the dark tube in her hands, suddenly astonished that for a few moments she had actually believed all this hocus-pocus about danger and protective potions … because of the nightmares, because of the runes … yet none of it made sense. Sitting here in this strange room was probably one of the craziest things she had ever done in her life.
Mr. Salgado held out a wide clay bowl. Inside it lay two crumpled twenty-dollar bills. “The potion costs ten dollars,” he said. “There is no charge for the reading. I ask only for a goodwill donation in addition.”
Emily held the potion out to him. “I really don’t need—” she began.
Haley snatched the vial and tucked it firmly into the pocket of Emily’s polo shirt. “You do need it!” she said.
Emily sighed. She pulled her wallet out of her small handbag, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and laid it on top of the others in the bowl.
“Thank you,” Mr. Salgado said. He laid the bowl on the altar and snuffed out the candles.
As he stood he frowned at Emily, who looked away, puzzled. Had he expected her to pay more? Well, she wouldn’t. She was sorry she’d been intimidated into parting with twenty dollars.
Haley bought a few things, but Emily wasn’t interested enough to pay attention to what they were. She shouldn’t have been here. She shouldn’t have allowed Haley to bring her.
“Miss Wood,” Mr. Salgado said as he opened the front door, “you are resentful that your friend brought you here and angry that I have not told you more about what you should do to ward off the evil that is set against you. Yet at the same time you do not believe that what I have told you is true.”
“I—I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I just think that if I really am in some kind of danger, you should tell me more about what to expect.” She shook her head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that were confusing her. “What I really mean is that I don’t believe in Loki and runes and evil and all that. I am not hiding anything—”
She stopped abruptly. But maybe I am, she thought. If I were really truthful I’d admit that I couldn’t be sure.
CHAPTER 10
Emily went to the dock again, paying no attention to the sign I posted to absolve the camp of any blame.
The peaceful water,
the rocks, the silence of this solitary spot … they’ve tempted her. I was sure she would return. I’m equally positive she’ll return again.
CHAPTER 11
“Promise me!” Haley repeated as they arrived back at the town square with less than ten minutes to spare before pickup time. “You must keep the potion with you at all times!”
“Why do you keep insisting?” Emily asked.
“Because I feel responsible for you. If a car were speeding toward you, I’d push you out of the way, wouldn’t I? If I saw you going under out in the lake, I’d rescue you. Well, this is the same thing. I’ve discovered you are in danger, and even proved it to you through Mr. Salgado. So now I have to make sure you’re protected from the danger, whether I want to or not.”
Emily gave Haley a sharp look. “Okay, I’ll make a bargain with you.”
“What kind of a bargain?”
Emily held up her right hand. “I’ll keep the potion with me at all times if you agree not to make me draw one of the runes each morning.”
Haley grimaced but answered, “Well, okay, I guess. We don’t know how much longer this period of danger will last, and I know I’d get absolutely sick to my stomach if you picked Loki again. I might die on the spot.”
“You wouldn’t die,” Emily retorted.
“That’s right. I wouldn’t. I’d just feel like it,” Haley said. “It’s bad enough having to feel responsible for you. Everyone in my family is always after me: ‘Be responsible about cleaning your room.’ ‘Be responsible about doing your homework.’ ‘Be responsible, be responsible.’ I hate being responsible.”
“Then let’s forget all about Mr. Salgado and what he told us.”
“No. We can’t. And you’ll thank me later, especially after we begin meditating.”
“Now what are you talking about?”
“Meditating. Mr. Salgado said the answer is hidden within you, so we have to reach inside your mind and find out what is causing the problem.”
“It’s not going to work.”
“We at least have to try.”
“If we try it once, will you stop bugging—?” Emily began. She broke off as Haley’s eyes suddenly widened and her mouth dropped open. “What’s the matter with you?”
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