Later that night, while M’Baku was practicing basketball, he approached the front desk to find Clarence, hunched over and typing. T’Challa coughed. Clarence looked up. T’Challa slid a piece of paper across the marble counter. “Do you know where I can get all this stuff?” he asked.
Twenty minutes later, after a short walk to a place called Walgreens, T’Challa looked at all the assembled parts spread out on the embassy room floor: a small motor, plastic wheels, metal rods, springs, nuts, bolts, assorted screws, and two small flashlights.
Wish I had some of my tools from Wakanda, he thought. Oh, well, I’ll just do something basic. Not too advanced.
It took him an hour to build it.
He took it into Science class the next day, along with the TV remote from the embassy, which he had hacked.
“Who’s next?” Mr. Bellweather asked. He was a tall man with a bald head and pants that were always too short. He looked at his tablet. “T. Charles, come on up.”
T’Challa picked up the box from the floor and walked to the front of the classroom.
“So what did you make?” Mr. Bellweather asked.
“A robot,” T’Challa answered.
Mr. Bellweather nodded, and T’Challa saw the disbelief behind his eyes. “Oh, really? Well, let’s see, then.”
T’Challa took the contraption out of the box and set it on the floor. He pointed the remote at it and pressed PLAY. The little device whirred and clicked and then spun around. Everyone began to murmur and point.
Mr. Bellweather got up from his seat and looked at the small invention, turning and twisting. “I wanted to voice-activate it,” T’Challa said, “but I didn’t have time.”
Mr. Bellweather walked in a circle around the robot, curious. “This is quite advanced, Mr. Charles. Where did you learn this?”
Advanced? T’Challa thought. He steered the robot out of a corner. “Just experimenting,” he said.
A half hour later, T’Challa had a crowd around him in the lunchroom, as the robot turned in circles, blinked, and zoomed under tables and chairs.
Awesome!
Can you build me one?
Dude, your robot is sick.
“Sick?” T’Challa said. “What do you mean?”
Sheila laughed “That means cool, T.”
Several people fell back as someone quickly pushed through the crowd.
A large brown boot came down on the robot.
CRUNCH!
Springs and screws went flying. The robot gave one last whir and then stopped moving.
T’Challa looked up.
It was Gemini Jones.
“Oops,” Gemini said. “Sorry.”
T’Challa’s blood boiled. He took a step toward Gemini with clenched fists. Chairs scraped as people stepped back.
Uh-oh!
Fight!
“Break it up! Back in your seats!”
T’Challa turned around to see a teacher jogging over. She was tall, with her hair tied back in a severe ponytail. He thought she was the Girls’ P.E. teacher. She looked down at the smashed robot. “Is this yours?” she asked T’Challa.
“It was,” he said.
She turned to Gemini. “Should have known you’d be at the center of this, Mr. Jones. Did you do this?”
Gemini smirked. “Yeah, I broke his little robot. So what?”
The teacher tightened her lips. “My office,” she said. “Now.”
“Later, Africa,” Gemini called as he followed the teacher away.
T’Challa looked down at his demolished creation. He bent to pick up the pieces.
He knew people like Gemini back in Wakanda. They usually came to no good end.
On the day of the talent show, kids filed into the auditorium, loud and boisterous. T’Challa sat with Zeke toward the front so they could get a good view of Sheila’s presentation. A group of noisy boys way in the back made him turn around. M’Baku was sitting with a bunch of guys from Gemini’s gang. He was pretty sure M’Baku saw him, but when their eyes met, his friend quickly turned away with a guilty expression.
T’Challa shook his head. Lately, he’d only seen M’Baku in the few classes they shared and at the embassy. He was spending a lot of time at basketball practice, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with Gemini Jones and his friends. He’d even given up sitting with T’Challa at lunch, and had joined Gemini and his pals at their table. T’Challa didn’t want to admit it, but he was hurt.
He turned back around to see several students with musical instruments, including a tuba, saxophone, and bass drum. One girl was dressed in a ballerina outfit and another had a bow and arrow. An archer? T’Challa wondered. He hoped she was going to be safe. A whizzing arrow in the auditorium might not go over very well.
The buzzing in the auditorium grew louder. Right as it reached a fever pitch, Mrs. Evans walked onto the stage, her shoes clicking on the floor. “Welcome, everyone,” she said, leaning into the microphone stand. “Quiet now. Calm down, please.” The microphone squealed, and everyone covered their ears.
“Now,” Mrs. Evans announced. “Our first contestant is Sheila Williams. So let’s give her a warm South Side Middle School welcome!”
T’Challa and Zeke applauded and whistled loudly as Sheila came from behind the stage curtain. She carried a folding table that she set up quickly. She then opened her silver briefcase and placed several beakers on the table. Only then did she turn to the audience. The crowd burst into laughter.
Sheila wore safety goggles, which were a little too big and made her eyes look huge. But Sheila ignored them and raised her head high. Good for her, T’Challa thought, and crossed his fingers.
Sheila took a deep breath. “Hello,” she began, and her voice drifted out over the audience. “Today, I’m going to create fog in the auditorium.”
Deafening silence.
Sheila coughed, and it created the loudest echo T’Challa had ever heard, bouncing off the walls and the high ceiling. She turned around and started fiddling with her lab instruments. T’Challa heard the clinking of a spoon against glass. He didn’t know what she was doing, but she seemed completely focused. Finally, just as the audience was beginning to squirm a little, a cloud of purple mist rose up behind her. The whole crowd leaned forward. Mrs. Evans watched closely from the side of the stage.
The smoke rose, and instead of dissipating, another cloud of vapor appeared from Sheila’s table.
There was a bang, and then a gasp. Mrs. Evans took a few steps forward. A cloud of purplish-red smoke rose up above Sheila, working its way to the ceiling. “Oooh,” the crowd said in unison, craning their necks.
Sheila smiled, basking in the moment of admiration. She went back to her beakers, stirring, clinking, murmuring to herself. Another cloud of mist rose and joined the purplish-red smoke. It hung in the air like a stormcloud ready to burst. A storm of applause broke out as Sheila took a bow.
“Well,” Mrs. Evans said, walking onto the stage after the fog had disappeared. “That was certainly spectacular, Sheila. Can you tell us how you did it?”
Sheila took off her safety glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Well, it’s quite simple, really. It’s a reaction between iodine and zinc. The exothermic reaction comes from the heat, although I may have used a little too much iodine.”
Mrs. Evans smiled awkwardly. “Well,” she said. “That was quite…interesting, Sheila. Let’s give her another round of applause!”
The audience cheered and whistled. She’s great at science, T’Challa thought, and wished he could share some of his Wakandan tech with her.
Sheila gave another bow, then packed up and left the stage.
“That was pretty awesome,” Zeke said.
“Yup,” T’Challa said. “Awesome.”
T’Challa sat through a few more presentations, the most interesting being from a girl who sang what she called an “old medieval song.” T’Challa wasn’t familiar with it, but as her voice soared out over the auditorium, he was filled with a sens
e of peace.
But the mood was quickly broken.
Mrs. Evans walked out from the side of the stage. “Quiet now, everyone,” she said. “We have one more demonstration.” She looked at her notepad and cocked her head. “Mr. Gemini Jones?”
T’Challa felt just as befuddled as Mrs. Evans. What was he going to do? Arm-wrestle somebody?
“Robot killer,” Zeke hissed.
Calls of Yo! Gemini went up in the crowd.
T’Challa watched Gemini saunter up to the stage. He took the microphone from Mrs. Evans and waved his other arm in the air, as the audience continued to applaud. Mrs. Evans wandered to the side of the stage again, looking a little bewildered.
Once everyone was settled, a hush fell over the auditorium. Gemini raised the microphone to his mouth. “I’m gonna need a volunteer,” he said.
There was a little shuffling and murmuring and a girl stood up. “Aliyah!” someone in the crowd shouted.
T’Challa watched the girl named Aliyah take to the stage. She wore her hair in dreadlocks, which was also a custom in Wakanda.
“I need a chair,” Gemini called. Mrs. Evans came back out with a small chair, which Aliyah sat on. She placed her palms on her knees. Mrs. Evans stood a few feet away.
Gemini turned to the audience. “Who believes in magic?” he asked.
A number of hands shot up into the air, including Aliyah’s.
Gemini smiled. “Well, today you’re gonna see something that’s gonna blow your minds!”
Aliyah shifted in her seat. Mrs. Evans looked on curiously. Gemini turned to Aliyah, leaning down a little because he was so tall. He raised an open hand in front of her face. “What do you see on my palm?” he asked.
Aliyah leaned in, screwing up her face to get a closer look. “Nothing,” she said.
The crowd laughed. “Some magic trick,” someone called, to scattered chuckles.
Gemini looked to the audience and smiled. It was not a kind smile. He placed the microphone on the floor, stood up to his full height, and closed his eyes. He raised his hands to his mouth and cupped them, as if he were whispering words. After a moment, he dropped them. “Reveal,” he said, and turned his palm toward Aliyah.
She screamed.
“But what did she see?” Sheila asked T’Challa.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
There were all kinds of rumors as to what Aliyah had seen. Some said it was a snake, others said it was a bug, and one person said it was her own reflection.
T’Challa was determined to find out what it was.
He didn’t have the chance to ask her, though. Every time he saw Aliyah between classes she was surrounded by mobs of people. It looked to T’Challa like she just wanted to get away.
Later that night at the embassy, T’Challa and M’Baku were both sprawled out on their beds. T’Challa was reading his science book while M’Baku flipped through a book about basketball. His mind kept drifting back to Gemini’s strange feat of magic. “Do you know how Gemini Jones did that trick?” he finally asked.
“Nope,” his friend replied, not taking his eyes away from his book.
T’Challa stiffened. M’Baku had become more and more distant these past few days. There was an awkward pause, something that had never happened between the two boys before.
“What’s going on with you, M’Baku?” T’Challa demanded, finally breaking the silence that hung in the room. “You seem…I don’t know. Different.”
M’Baku placed his book on his outstretched knees. “Don’t you ever get tired of staying here?” he replied, looking around the room as if it disgusted him. “I mean, we’re in this huge city and we haven’t really done anything. Gemini said I could stay with him and his dad if I wanted to. He said he’d show me around the city.”
“What?” T’Challa said, surprised.
“He said they have great food every night and we can play video games as much as we want.”
“We’re supposed to keep a low profile,” T’Challa reminded him. “Remember? Not wander around a strange city.”
“I didn’t come all the way over here to hide,” M’Baku said.
T’Challa shook his head.
“Whatever,” M’Baku replied.
The uncomfortable silence fell again. T’Challa went back to his homework. He really didn’t understand what was going on with him.
M’Baku turned the pages of his book silently. It was like T’Challa wasn’t even in the room with him. Finally, M’Baku looked up from his book. “Hey. I made the team. First match’s tomorrow night. You coming?”
T’Challa let out a sigh. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be there.”
The next day at school, T’Challa was on a mission. He put the trouble with M’Baku aside for a moment and made an effort to hunt down Aliyah and ask her what she had seen.
He found her between classes in the hallways as she was putting a book in her locker. This time she was alone. Her backpack had an image of a cat on it with a logo that read HELLO KITTY.
“Excuse me, Aliyah?” he asked quietly.
Aliyah turned around. She had kind green eyes and freckles, which T’Challa thought was quite unusual for someone dark-skinned. He liked her dreadlocks, too.
“Hi,” Aliyah said. “You’re T., right? You made that cool robot everybody was talking about.”
“Yeah,” he said, a little bashfully. Until Gemini crushed it.
They stood in silence for a brief moment as kids passed them in the hallway.
“Um,” T’Challa started. “Well, I wanted to ask you a question.”
Aliyah sighed. “About yesterday?”
Now T’Challa felt bad. He didn’t want to bother her. He let out a breath. “I just—there are a lot of people saying stuff about what happened. If you don’t mind”—he shuffled his feet—“can you tell me what you saw?”
Aliyah looked at the floor and then back up. She glanced left, and then right. “I only saw it for a second,” she said.
“What?” asked T’Challa. “What did you see?”
Aliyah let out a big breath. “It was an eye,” she whispered.
T’Challa stood motionless, not believing what he had just heard.
“I saw an eye,” she said again. “An eye in the center of Gemini Jones’s palm. It…winked at me.”
“What else do you know about Gemini Jones?”
The usual noise and activity in the lunchroom meant T’Challa had to raise his voice, but he looked around warily before asking.
“Why?” asked Sheila.
“I mean, do you think there’s anything to this warlock business? Or does he just like to scare people?”
“I think it’s true,” Zeke said, looking up from his book. “One time Edwin Sharp said Gemini put a curse on him and he couldn’t talk for a whole day.”
“Couldn’t talk?” T’Challa questioned.
Sheila looked up from her phone. “Oh, I remember that. He said he couldn’t move his mouth, right? Nobody believed him.”
A moment of silence passed between them.
T’Challa shifted in his seat. “Aliyah said she saw an eye in Gemini’s palm. She said it winked at her.”
“Uh, that’s weird,” Zeke said.
“And,” T’Challa continued, “Gemini and his friends all wear those skull rings.”
“They’re probably just trying to be creepy,” Zeke suggested.
“Maybe,” T’Challa said.
A scream rang through the cafeteria.
Heads swiveled.
“What the—?” Zeke said, standing up.
Squeaking chairs and raised voices filled the lunchroom. A crowd was forming, huddling in a corner by the exit. T’Challa and his friends rushed to the commotion. T’Challa pushed his way to the front.
His breath caught in his throat.
There it was again.
Another one of those weird stick things, like the one he had seen his first week at school.
But this one was different.
There was blood around it.
T’Challa looked left, then right. Everyone was focused on the strange object at their feet. He quickly pushed up his sleeve and pressed a small bead on his Kiyomo Bracelet.
T’Challa ducked into an empty room before he went to his French class. He closed the door and tapped a bead on his bracelet. A small screen appeared in midair, projecting an image of the mysterious object he had just seen in the lunchroom. He looked to the door with apprehension and then tapped the screen. Small lines of code began running along the bottom of the image, ending in a beep. T’Challa looked at the result:
Devil’s Trap
American Voodoo/Hoodoo
Used to capture or summon spirits and demons
T’Challa tapped the bead and the image flashed out. He had heard of Voodoo. It was an old religion, and several groups in Wakanda practiced it. They had their own ways, they said, and didn’t believe in the Panther God, Bast, or in following the king’s rules. T’Challa’s father let them be, as long as they didn’t try to influence others.
Now he was really curious. Did Gemini have something to do with this?
“It’s called a Devil’s Trap,” T’Challa told Zeke and Sheila later that day. “I looked it up.”
“Devil’s Trap,” Zeke said flatly. It wasn’t a question.
“What are they for?” Sheila asked.
“It’s some kind of Voodoo,” T’Challa said. “For capturing spirits.” He paused. “Or…summoning them.”
Zeke swallowed. “Why would somebody put one here? In the school?”
“Somebody’s playing jokes,” Sheila said. “Halloween’s coming up. Remember?”
T’Challa wasn’t so sure about that.
Something was going on at South Side Middle School.
And he was going to find out what it was.
“Wildcats! Wildcats! Gooooo Wildcats!”
The cheerleaders’ chants combined with the rattle of snare drums soared out over the audience. T’Challa sat in the bleachers with Zeke and Sheila. The noise was deafening, but it didn’t drown out his thoughts about the strange Devil’s Trap or Gemini’s trick.
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