by David Lubar
The room shifted again. Candace hadn’t counted on Milly’s storytelling skills. The battle might be tougher than she’d expected.
“I thought you told us it was dark,” Candace said, trying to regain the advantage.
“I had a flashlight,” Milly said.
“So it wasn’t dark,” Candace said.
“The batteries were weak. The bulb was dim.”
Candace saw this wasn’t the way to take Milly down. The girl was too crafty. But there was a way to beat her once and for all. “I’m going there right now. And I’m going to count the gargoyles. Then we’ll see who really went there.”
She forced herself not to grin. It would be so easy to walk off, wait awhile, and then come back and claim she’d counted fifteen gargoyles. She could make up descriptions. That would be easy. She’d had years of practice telling tales, saying whatever she needed to get what she wanted. She headed toward the door.
“How do we know you’re really going there?” Milly said. “You could just pretend to go.”
Candace’s inner grin turned into a snarl. She hadn’t expected Milly to figure out her plan. But the game was far from lost. She’d just have to actually go to the gargoyle garden, and take someone with her. “Since you don’t trust me, I’ll bring a witness. Who wants to go on an adventure and find out what a liar Milly is?”
The other girls avoided her eyes as Candace glanced around the cabin. She considered the possibilities. Eden was afraid of everything. She’d never go. Lucinda was very smart. Candace considered her a threat. Becky was a possibility. The girl was desperately eager to make friends. Candace knew she could get Becky to do anything. She looked straight at her. “So, who’s coming?”
Becky, who was staring at the floor, must have felt Candace’s gaze, because she looked up. She gave the tiniest nod. Then she opened her mouth to speak.
Perfect, Candace thought.
“I will,” Milly said before Becky could volunteer.
Candace tried to calculate the advantages and disadvantages of accepting the offer. “You could lie about what we see,” she said.
Milly held up her phone. “I’ll take a picture of each gargoyle. So can you, if you don’t trust me. Each of us will have thirteen pictures. You’ll see.”
Candace could tell this was a bluff. Milly had no idea how many gargoyles there were. She’d never been there. Candace realized Milly expected her to back out. No way.
“Good,” Candace said. “Let’s go.” She grabbed her flashlight and headed out the cabin door, not even waiting to see if Milly followed her. She wanted Milly to have to rush to catch up with her. That would give her even more of an advantage.
“Wait up!” Milly called, keeping her voice at a whisper.
Candace slowed her pace enough for Milly to catch her, but didn’t stop. The air was hot and damp. Clouds covered the stars. It wasn’t a good night to cross a tree-strewn field, climb a hill, slip past a broken gate, and walk into a garden to count creepy gargoyles.
“We don’t have to do this,” Candace said. “You just have to admit you’ve never been there. We can go right back to our beds.”
“I told them I’d get pictures,” Milly said. “We have to go.”
Candace could feel a door closing behind her. Milly was right—there were no options. They couldn’t go back to the cabin without visiting the garden. But Candace was sure her victory would be worth the effort, no matter how scary the gargoyles were.
They didn’t talk any more during the long walk to the garden, which was on the rear part of the property where a mansion once stood. Nobody had lived there for decades. The large house itself was half collapsed and fully rotted.
The first gargoyle, at the edge of the garden, guarded the entrance to a path lined with hedges. “It’s not that scary,” Candace said as she took a picture. The gargoyle looked like a cross between a demon and a tiger. “That’s one.” She walked on.
The second gargoyle, with a face like a bird of prey, was a bit scarier. There was something disturbing about the eyes. They were made of stone, but they looked dangerous and evil.
“Two,” Candace said.
The third gargoyle had scary claws. The fourth greeted them with a silent snarl from a terrifying mouth that seemed to drip something wet. Candace didn’t look too closely. She kept her eyes on the path ahead, not wanting to stumble across the next gargoyle by surprise.
As they moved closer to the center of the garden, past the seventh gargoyle, Candace realized she’d won. There was no way there’d be thirteen. Not unless someone had placed a cluster of gargoyles at the end of the path.
“Ready to give up?” she asked Milly.
The girl, slumped in defeat and as silent as the gargoyles, didn’t even bother to answer.
In the end, there were only ten gargoyles. The last one, at the center of the garden itself—or what was once a garden back when it had been tended—was by far the scariest, and the largest. It seemed to combine all that was frightening in the other nine, and ramp each horrifying feature up even higher.
“You lied,” Candace said.
“Big deal. I’ve been here now. That’s good enough.”
“Only because I came,” Candace said.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re new. They won’t follow you.”
Candace didn’t bother arguing. She’d won, and she knew it. She was sure Milly knew it, too. Soon, all the girls would know it. Not just at the cabin, but all through the camp. She’d be the hero, and Milly would be an outcast. What a perfect summer this would be.
As she was about to turn away, she said, “I wonder why anyone would put such ugly creatures in a garden.”
“To distract people from the real monster, so you don’t notice it’s following you.”
The words were whispered. Candace glanced to her left. Milly hadn’t spoken. Milly’s mouth was open, but only because her jaw had started to tremble.
“Did you hear that?” Candace asked.
There was a sigh of evil happiness. It came from behind Candace. The sigh was followed by a shout, in a deep, hoarse rasp. “And now, I will feast on your flesh! Bwahhh hahhh haaaa!”
Candace screamed and spun around. A bright light hit her eyes. As her heart slammed against her chest and she struggled to see past the afterimage from the flash, she discovered she was face-to-face with Becky.
“Wow, you really looked scared,” Becky said. She clicked two more pictures. “This is perfect. I think you were both at least a foot off the ground in the first picture. And your faces—this is priceless.” She turned and dashed off.
“We’re doomed,” Candace said.
“It’s your fault,” Milly said.
“You’re the one who lied,” Candace said.
“You’re the one who wanted to make me look bad.”
“Only because you lied.”
“You started it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
They argued all the way back. It was a long, slow walk. Candace knew that neither of them was eager to return to the cabin, or to the camp, where Becky—sly, sneaky Becky—would rule over both of them for the rest of the summer.
ALIEN BIOLOGY
Xlatspan isn’t difficult. Or maybe I just have a knack for alien languages. Out of all the kids at Damon Knight Middle School, I’m the best in my class at speaking it, which is why my teacher told me I should apply for a chance to be an exchange student.
So I went online and filled out all the forms. And I got accepted. I’ll be spending a whole marking period on the nearest planet colonized by the Xlatspanzy.
I’m on the ship now. It only takes two weeks—336 Earth hours—to get there, even though it’s a couple dozen light-years away. I don’t understand that part. Not yet. But one of the classes I’ll be taking is called Muon Drive Physics. Actually, it’s called K’etch chzwad metma metmo. That’s how they say it.
I’m also taking History of the Xlatspanzy Empire, Alien Biology, and Contemporary Art Forms
. I’ve already seen some amazing art, both from the Xlatspanzy and from some of the other races they’ve met in their explorations.
The Xlatspanzy are sort of scary when you first meet them. They’re shorter than the average human, but pretty strong looking. Their heads are big. Not enormous, like aliens in movies, but big enough that you know they aren’t human. I’ve heard they have two hearts. I guess I’ll learn all about that in the biology class.
It’s great that I get to practice the language all the time. It works both ways. As much as I like to practice my Xlatspan, that’s how much they like to practice their English. About half the crew members on the ship are learning to speak it. Some of them are pretty good, though all of them have trouble with the V sound, since their lips work differently from ours.
Almost exactly two weeks after we left Earth, a light started to flash from the ceilings and walls. That meant we were about to emerge from non-space and transition into landing orbit. I slid inside one of the cushioned tubes in the common room. The landing was pretty rough, but I was prepared. They’d warned us we’d feel some jolts and a brief period of high gravity.
There were a couple hundred other kids on the ship, from all over the world, but I didn’t hang out with them much. Most of them were pretty stuck up. It didn’t matter. Only one of us would go to each school, so it wasn’t like I’d have any friends where I was going. And I was a lot more interested in getting to know the Xlatspanzy.
I’d be staying with an actual family. That was great. Their homes are nothing like ours. But I’d been told they’d made up a room for me with a bed and everything.
I started my classes the next day. I had to admit, the physics class was pretty tough. As good as I was at the language, it was hard understanding all that science information when it was spoken in Xlatspan.
Art was great. The instructor even showed a piece from Earth. As she talked about it and tried to pronounce van Gogh, all my classmates glanced at me, then looked away. I guess they were shy.
After art, we headed to Alien Biology. The desks were in a circle around a large table with straps. When I walked in, everyone stared at me.
I said hello in Xlatspan.
Nobody answered me. Someone grabbed me from behind. Then a couple more of them grabbed me. They lifted me up and put me on the table. I tried to get away, but straps shot across my arms, legs, and chest.
I couldn’t move. But I could hear.
“Welcome to Alien Biology,” the instructor said. “We are fortunate to finally have a live specimen. We’ll go slowly and carefully, since he has to last the whole marking period.”
The teacher picked up some sort of shiny tool and walked toward me. “The skin is composed of three layers.”
I screamed and begged for them to let me go. In English. Not that it mattered.
EVIL IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
“My grandparents are in Greece,” I said. “They’re traveling all over Europe this month. They’ll be in Turkey next.”
You’d think I’d made the announcement in Greek. For a moment, nobody even looked up. Then Sarah McEdmonds put down her Brie-with-dried-cranberries sandwich and said, “We’re summering in Paris.”
“So are we,” Lydea Betterson said. “After we leave London. I do so love European capitals.”
The other five girls at our lunch table started talking about their next vacation. They were hitting all the continents except for Antarctica, and most of the places I’d dreamed about seeing someday—Paris, Rome, Madrid, Singapore. I went back to eating.
I shouldn’t have said anything about my grandparents’ trip. I definitely shouldn’t have tried to impress the girls at the table.
I’ll never learn, I thought. I was at Holidale Prep on a scholarship. My parents weren’t poor, but they worked hard just to keep ahead of the bills, and could never have afforded private school without help. My grandparents worked hard, too. They might be in Europe right now, but they definitely hadn’t flown there first-class, and they sure weren’t staying at fancy hotels or eating expensive meals.
“So, Meredith,” Sarah said to me after she’d finished her sandwich, “where are you going this summer?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know yet.” She’d hardly be impressed with our plans to spend a week camping in the Adirondacks. I loved everything about those mountains—the blue skies, the flocks of birds, the smell of pine trees—but none of the girls at the table would understand.
“Oh, it must be wonderful to be so spontaneous,” Sarah said. “I imagine you could fly off anywhere. Maybe Ipanema, or Dubai. I hope you’ll send me a postcard.”
“I’ll try to remember.” I had no idea where either of those places was, but I knew they were out of reach. I turned my attention to my fruit cup, which I’d saved for dessert. I still couldn’t decide whether Sarah was mean, evil, or merely clueless. I was leaning toward 80 percent clueless, with a dash of mean and a pinch of evil.
I did get to go to the airport before the start of summer, but not to take a trip. At the end of the month, my whole family—Mom, Dad, my older sister, and my younger brother—drove there on a Friday night to pick up Grammy and Gramps.
They looked great. Gramps scooped me up and swung me around. He’s a lot younger than my friends’ grandfathers, and he takes really good care of himself. When he was in college, he was on the wrestling team.
“I brought you a surprise,” he whispered.
But he made me wait until we got home to see it. Finally, when we were all gathered in the living room, he held out a small cloth pouch that Grammy took from her carry-on bag.
“Reach in,” he said.
I reached in and felt something small, smooth, hard, and cool. I pulled it out. “It’s beautiful.” The stone looked sort of like colored glass. It was flat and round, maybe four inches wide, with circles on it, like a bull’s-eye. Except, instead of red and white, it was white, light blue, and dark blue.
I could feel my brow wrinkle as I tried to figure out what I had in my hand. It was pretty, but I was sure there had to be more to the present than that. “What is it?”
“It’s a good luck charm,” he said.
“What kind of luck?” I asked.
“It protects you from the evil eye,” he said.
I was learning less with each answer. “Evil eye?”
Gramps nodded. “Everyone in Turkey owns one. They feel it protects you from the sort of harm that comes from envy. People who envy you often wish for bad things to happen. Get rid of the envy, and you get rid of the danger.”
“Thanks.” I gave him a hug. I loved the way the charm looked. But as I was taking it with me to my bedroom that night, I thought about the evil eye. Nobody envied me. I had nothing to worry about in that area.
But I had another thought. The next day, I looked online and found a store in town that sold good luck charms. Luckily, they weren’t really expensive, so I was able to buy as many as I needed. Monday, I took them to school with me.
“I have presents for all of you,” I said at lunch.
That got their attention.
“What is it?” Sarah asked.
I reached into my purse and pulled out the five wrapped good luck charms. “See for yourself.” I passed them out.
Sarah and the others unwrapped the presents. I thought they’d be puzzled, but Lydea nodded and said, “How nice. I’ve seen these in Ankara.”
The other girls also knew what they were. But they took them. And I knew they’d keep them. Which was all I wanted. Now, Sarah, Lydea, and the rest of the girls at my table would be safe from envy. Specifically, they’d be protected from my envy.
They are all going to Europe for the summer. They are rich, and they get whatever they want. They’ll always have more things than I’ll have. After I repeated those thoughts several times, I searched my mind for signs of envy.
Nothing.
I was fine with that. They had their lives, and I had mine. I had my family. I had our week in the Adi
rondacks. I had Grammy and Gramps. I didn’t envy their good fortune. I had no desire to give them the evil eye.
The charms worked beautifully.
THE DARK SIDE OF BRIGHTNESS
“I want a dazzling smile!” Cranston screamed.
His parents exchanged puzzled glances and then turned nervous smiles in his direction.
“What was that?” his mother asked.
“A dazzling smile,” Cranston said. “Didn’t you hear me the first time?”
“We did,” his father said. “But we aren’t sure what you mean. Your smile is just wonderful.”
“It’s not dazzling.” Cranston pointed toward the closest television, which was currently tuned to a channel featuring entertainment news. “In the ads, the beautiful people have dazzling smiles.”
Cranston, who was eight years old, watched far too much television, which wasn’t difficult, since there was a set in nearly every room in the house. Some celebrities could sing or dance. Others could act or tell jokes. Some didn’t seem to have any talent at all. But they all had dazzling smiles. Every single one of them. Cranston was pretty sure he didn’t have any talent, so his only hope of being a celebrity was his smile.
“Your smile is already perfect,” his mother said. She took his chin in her hand and told him, “You’re my perfect little angel, and your smile is just right.”
Cranston issued a howl of frustration and stomped out of the room. Nobody seemed to understand how important this was. He needed a dazzling smile, and he needed it right now. His neighbor’s mother was a celebrity. Becky’s mom gave the weather forecast on the local news channel, and appeared in commercials for a used-car dealer. On the news and in the commercials, her smile was dazzling. Whenever she had to go anywhere, a limousine picked her up. Whenever she went into town, people asked her for her autograph. That’s what happened when you had a dazzling smile.
Cranston knocked on Becky’s door.
“Hi?” she said. Cranston never talked to her, and had never knocked on her door before, so she was puzzled by his sudden appearance.
“I want a dazzling smile,” he told her.