“There may come a time when we need that water. For now these booby traps should do the job,” Aunt Samantha said.
Molly crawled through the opening, keeping her hands out in front to detect any of Aunt Samantha’s tripwires. When her fingers brushed against one she waited for an avalanche to crush her, but nothing happened. “Here’s one,” Molly said. “You have to step over it or you’ll get hurt.”
Veronica did this and then picked Molly up, setting her down behind the tripwire. They continued this pattern until they reached the fountain. Veronica knelt on the stones ringing the glowing water and pressed a hand to her cheek. “It’s real. I thought it was something Gramps was making up, but it really exists. The Fountain of Youth,” she said.
Molly came up next to her and looked into the water. She saw herself as a toddler and an infant, both faces locked in a scream of pain. Molly backed away from the fountain, coming within an inch of setting off a tripwire.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Molly. Everything’s going to be all right now,” Veronica said. “Look, there’s me at twenty-five with that awful perm and me at fifteen with all those zits. Oh, there’s me as a baby. This is unbelievable.”
Veronica leaned closer to the surface of the water, reaching one hand out to touch it. As her fingers dipped beneath the water, her entire body started to glow. “It’s working!” she shouted. “I can feel it!”
Molly watched Veronica’s glowing form growing leaner with every second so that her clothes became loose. Her hair turned black and straightened into a solid wave coursing down her back. The lines on her face evaporated until her entire face had the smoothness of a statue. With the glow surrounding her beautiful face, she reminded Molly of pictures of the Virgin Mary in Becky’s Bible. Maybe she is an angel, Molly thought.
Veronica tried to pull her arm out then, but instead something yanked her down farther into the water until her shoulders were submerged. Despite Veronica kicking furiously to free herself from the Fountain of Youth, she couldn’t escape. Her body grew smaller inside her clothes, into a teenager’s frame and then a child’s. “Help me! Molly, help!” Veronica called out in a small voice, a little girl’s voice.
Molly raced forward and grabbed at Veronica’s pants until she found Veronica’s legs. Molly pulled as hard as she could, straining from the effort. At last whatever had taken hold of Veronica let go and she went flying backwards, knocking Molly to the ground.
When Molly rolled into a sitting position, she saw a toddler swamped by Veronica’s clothes. Black hair covered the girl’s face like a curtain except for the end of her nose. The little girl held up the sagging sleeves of her clothes, now empty beneath the elbow. “This can’t be,” she whispered. “I’m not a child!”
Molly leaned forward to brush hair away from the girl’s face. Underneath, she found a chubby brown face with Veronica’s eyes. “Veronica?”
“Molly, what happened?” Veronica started to cry. “I don’t want to be little. Change me back.” She flapped the half-empty sleeves in anger and then sagged forward into Molly’s waiting arms. Molly could do nothing more than stroke Veronica’s hair and whisper reassurances the way Becky did with her. She stopped at the sound of footsteps outside the cave.
Chapter 32: Poison
The two kids hardly fit onto the bed. To give them more room, Joseph arranged the little boy with his head at the foot of the bed and the fat one lying in the opposite direction. He secured their hands to the bars of the brass frame while Samantha watched, making sure neither tried anything sneaky.
Since waking up, the little one hadn’t said anything. He wouldn’t even look at Samantha, instead turning his head away anytime she glanced at him. She felt bad for the kid, having his heart broken under the benches, but what did he expect? Did he really think she’d give up a strong, gorgeous man like Joseph for a shrimp like him?
The fat one had slept the entire way over, her snoring enough to drive Samantha crazy. She and Joseph spent the ride back to his father’s house trying to find a good description for the snoring. “It’s like a chainsaw,” Joseph said. “A rusty chainsaw from about fifty years ago.”
“It’s like a waterfall. Maybe Niagara Falls,” Samantha said. She couldn’t remember having ever been to Niagara Falls, but she had the vague image of solid walls of water crashing down like an avalanche.
They settled on a pregnant sow with asthma. Now that the fat girl lay on the bed, Samantha could picture the fat girl with a snout and curly tail, a bunch of piglets sucking at her teats. Samantha giggled at this image and then reached over to push up the fat girl’s nose and make oinking sounds. Joseph laughed at this while the little one spoke for the first time. “Samantha, she’s your friend. How can you do that?”
“I’m just having some fun with her,” Samantha said.
“What happened to you? I want the old Samantha back.”
“You mean the ugly Samantha? The one with pimples and big ears and homemade clothes? She’s never coming back. Never!”
“You’re uglier now,” the little one said.
Joseph slapped him across the face hard enough to make the little boy’s nose bleed. “Watch your mouth,” Joseph said.
Samantha let go of the fat one’s nose to massage Joseph’s shoulders. “Leave him alone. He’s jealous because he’s a sissy and you’re my big strong man.” She kissed him on the neck, the little one squirming at this. “Let’s get out of here. We can get across the state line by morning.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Joseph said. “We can’t leave them like this. They could escape.”
“What are you going to do then? You aren’t going to hurt them, are you?”
“No, of course not, baby,” Joseph said. “I’m going to give them what I gave my dad. By the time they wake up, we’ll be gone. Go downstairs and watch TV while I take care of this.”
“All right,” she said.
“Samantha, don’t let him do this! You can stop him!” the little one cried out. Samantha kissed Joseph on the neck again and then went down to the living room to watch TV.
A knock on the door startled her enough that she fell off the couch. She turned off the television, hoping whoever was at the door would go away. She imagined the sheriff waiting there, ready to bust down the door and haul her and Joseph away for drugging Mr. Pryde and tying up the kids.
The knocking continued, growing more frantic. A woman’s voice called out, “I know you’re in there. I see your cars.”
Before long, Samantha knew the racket would disturb Joseph and then there would be hell to pay. She hurried to the front door, peeking through the curtain to see not the sheriff but an old woman in a dingy brown overcoat. Samantha opened the door enough to fit her head through. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Well, aren’t you a rude one. I’ve been living in these parts since your grandmother was in diapers I bet. I don’t remember seeing you before. Are you a friend of Mr. Pryde’s?”
“Yes. He’s sleeping right now so you’ll have to come back later,” Samantha said. With the door open, the old lady’s mildew stench almost made Samantha’s eyes water.
“That’s fine. I’m not here to see him. There was a girl who came by my place earlier. A big girl.” The old lady held an arm out on either side to mimic the girl’s shape. “She said she was staying up here. I went by the sweet shop earlier and thought I’d drop off some fudge for her.” The old lady held up a white paper sack.
“You can give it to me and I’ll make sure she gets it.”
“Where is she that she can’t even come to the door and say hello to an old woman who did her a favor by driving her into town? She seemed like such a darling girl too.”
“She’s not feeling good right now. When she’s better I’ll let her know you stopped by.”
“I should have known. She didn’t look well earlier with her face so red and sweaty. In that case, I’ll go whip up some chicken soup for her. Much better for a sick girl than candy.” Th
e old lady stuffed the bag of fudge into her overcoat and then turned to leave. That’s when a scream came from upstairs. From the shrillness of it, Samantha guessed the fat girl had woke up at last. The old lady spun around, sticking her foot in the doorway before Samantha could shut the door. “What’s going on in there?” she asked.
“Nothing’s going on,” Samantha said. Another scream echoed through the house, this one belonging to the little boy. Sweat began to form along Samantha’s forehead and a nervous flutter unsettled her stomach.
The old lady tried to worm her way past Samantha, who fought to shut the door. “I don’t know what you children are up to in here, but I aim to find out. I will not have a group of hoodlums operating in my neighborhood. You let me in this instant, young lady or I’ll tell Sheriff McCovey.”
Samantha relented, opening the door enough for the old lady to slip through. “Young lady, are you hurt? Mr. Pryde? Can you—” The old lady didn’t finish her sentence. Samantha whacked her upside the head with the handle of an umbrella. The old lady toppled to the floor, where she lay unmoving.
Samantha stood frozen over the old lady’s fallen body. Oh God, let her be alive, Samantha thought. She could justify the robbery and even tying up the children, but she couldn’t find an excuse for killing an old woman.
“Sam, what’s going on down here?” Joseph called from the stairs. By the time he reached the bottom, Samantha had dissolved into a sobbing heap. He took her into his arms, stroking her hair and saying reassuring things that had no effect on her as she looked at the dead old lady.
“She threatened to call the police,” Samantha said. “I didn’t want to hit her, but she wouldn’t go away.”
“Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” Joseph leaned over the old lady’s body to feel for a pulse. “She’s still alive.”
Samantha wiped at her eyes and nose, trying to collect herself. She couldn’t help thinking of what she’d almost done; if she’d hit the old lady a little harder—
“Joseph, let’s get out of here. We can find another bank to rob somewhere else. One that’s bigger and has more money.”
He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Sam, there’s nothing to worry about. The old coot will be fine. We’ll put her upstairs with the others.”
“What about the kids? I heard them—”
“They’re fine. They’re asleep now,” he said.
“Joe, please, I don’t want to be here anymore. Let’s go.”
“Baby, I told you, there’s nothing to worry about. You trust me, don’t you?” She nodded. “Good. I’ll take Mrs. Schulman upstairs and tuck her in. Are you going to be all right by yourself for a few minutes?” She nodded again. “That’s my girl. Wait right here.”
Joseph disappeared with the old lady in his arms, leaving Samantha alone. After a moment she stumbled out the front door and collapsed onto the porch swing to bury her face in her hands. This kept getting worse and worse. It had all started out as a beautiful dream, but now it seemed more like a nightmare from which she couldn’t wake up.
Chapter 33: The Incredible Expanding Cheerleader!
Lizzie sprang from the bed at the first rays of dawn, before the alarm clock went off. The day of the pep rally was here at last! After years of wishing and weeks of training she finally got the chance to show everyone what she could do.
The green-and-white uniform hung from the closet door, still draped in the plastic dry cleaning bag. She hadn’t tried it on since the fitting, afraid of staining the uniform before everyone in school could see how great she looked in it. She thought of Joseph Pryde—the cutest boy at Seabrooke Middle School—sitting in the bleachers, gaping when he saw her. Afterwards, he would find her in the hallway to ask her to the homecoming dance. She would make a big show of deciding before accepting. The other girls would die from jealousy.
“Prudence, hurry up and get ready for school!” Mom called from the other side of the door.
“Mom, I told you not to call me that,” Lizzie snapped. “Nobody calls me that name anymore.”
“It’s your given name. If your grandmother heard you talk about her name like that—”
“Mom, please, I have to get ready. There’s a big important thing at school today and I have to look my best.”
“All right, but be sure you get something for breakfast before you leave. You’re going to be skin and bones if you don’t eat something.”
“I know, Mom. I promise I’ll eat something.” She waited a moment to make sure her nosy mother left before she took down the uniform. She peeled away the plastic, running her hands along the soft fabric. Her fingers traced the letters ‘SMS’ on the chest, filling her with pride. Today she would become a part of the school’s history, her picture with the other junior varsity cheerleaders in the yearbook that people would be able to see for years and years to come. Someday she could show it to her children—who wouldn’t have ugly names like Prudence.
She pulled the plastic back over the uniform to protect it while she took a shower and did her makeup. She hung it up over the closet again so Wendell couldn’t reach. It would be just like her bratty little brother to mess up her uniform on the most important day of her life.
After showering and blow-drying her hair, she sat down at the vanity to look into the mirror. What should she do with her hair? How much makeup should she put on? For a moment she considered phoning Helena, the head cheerleader, but she didn’t want to seem nervous. They might decide to replace her with someone else like that horse-faced Becky. No, she would have to make these decisions herself.
Twenty minutes later she bounded down the steps to the kitchen with her hair—naturally red unlike that fake orange tint of Molly Brigham’s—in a ponytail and with a subtle amount of makeup. She spun around in her sweater and skirt for Mom to see. “You look very nice, sweetheart,” Mom said. She motioned to a plate on the table. “I made you some scrambled eggs and toast. Hurry up before the bus gets here.”
“Sorry Mom, but I have to go. Samantha’s dad is giving us a ride into school.”
“You have to eat something, Prudence—”
“I’ll get something at school.” She heard a car horn sound. “Bye Mom. Love you.” She kissed her mother on the cheek before skipping out to Mr. Young’s beat-up old car.
Samantha sat in the backseat, taking up almost half of it. She couldn’t even get the seatbelt around her gut. Samantha looked up from a book, squinting through thick glasses at Lizzie’s outfit. “You look nice,” she said, her voice a whisper. Then she reached into her backpack for a candy bar to stuff into her mouth. Lizzie thought about mentioning how bad chocolate was for skin—not that Samantha could do much worse damage to her dark skin at this point—but she didn’t want to hurt Samantha’s feelings. They had been friends since first grade when they were both chubby little girls. Prudence had grown out of her chubbiness while Samantha had just grown and grown. Before long she wouldn’t even fit into the car.
Along the way to school, Lizzie did most of the talking as usual. “I’m so excited and nervous too. Do you think everyone’s going to be there? Even Joseph Pryde? What if I fall and he sees me? I would die, I tell you, right there on the spot from embarrassment. I don’t think I could ever live that down if I lived to be a hundred.”
“You’ll do fine,” Samantha said. Then she reached into her backpack for a bag of cookies. She shoveled a handful into her mouth, spilling crumbs on the front of her mint green T-shirt, and then offered the bag to Lizzie, who refused.
“I couldn’t eat a thing right now. It would come right back up. My stomach is already doing cartwheels,” she said. “I’m going to be on the top of the pyramid. The first time they ever let someone start at the top, but Coach Schulman said I’m the right size and after Annie broke her leg there wasn’t anyone else who could do it. It’s a lot of responsibility being up at the top of the pyramid and it’s dangerous too. This one girl in Texas broke her neck when she fell off the top—”
“I’ll see you after the rally,” Lizzie told Samantha, who had finally escaped the backseat, her face red and sweaty from the effort. She wheezed something like an affirmative and then Lizzie raced down the sidewalk to the other girls. She was relieved to see the other girls all wore their hair in ponytails and the same amount of makeup. “Hi, everyone! Isn’t it such a beautiful day?”
“Do you remember the choreography?” Helena asked. “We can’t have you screwing up.”
“I know it. Don’t worry.”
“You’d better,” Phyllis hissed. Lizzie knew Phyllis was jealous because she wanted to be the top girl, but not with those ham-sized thighs of hers.
Samantha lumbered past, Lizzie careful not to look in her direction. She imagined Samantha’s eyes filling with tears at the snub, but she had to understand what a great opportunity this was for Lizzie. All those years of dance classes and gymnastics, waiting for this moment. The top of the pyramid!
“Look at her,” Helena said. “I’m surprised she can fit through the doorway anymore.”
“Didn’t you used to be friends with her?” Phyllis asked, an obvious trick to embarrass Lizzie in front of the others.
“Oh yeah, back in first grade like a million years ago.”
“I have her in my English class. She has to sit at a special table because she can’t fit in the desks,” Molly said.
“She has to take the elevator instead of the stairs,” Annie said. The other girls laughed at this. Lizzie played along, telling herself it was Samantha’s own fault. No one had put a gun to her head and made her get fat. No one forced her to inhale candy and cookies all day long like a whale. If she doesn’t want people making fun of her she should lose the weight, Lizzie thought.
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