Chase Tinker & The House of Magic

by Malia Ann Haberman

  "We're sorry," mumbled Janie. She'd never seen her mother so angry.

  Clair wasn't listening; she was on a roll. She reminded Chase of his dad when he was mad about something. Benjamin Tinker would go on and on until the person he was yelling at was ready to nod off. Chase had the urge to smile, but fought it because he knew it would most likely make the bad situation they were in even worse. He chanced a peek at Grandfather. He was staring at his desk top, an unreadable expression on his face.

  "…irresponsible of you. I thought you were raised smarter than this! What were you thinking? You weren't, that's just it. It makes me wonder what else you've been up to this summer." Chase tried his hardest not to look guilty. He hoped the others wouldn't give anything away either. "I suppose it's all about having fun, isn't it? Well, kids, no more fun time! Apparently, you have too much time on your hands. All of you had better get to bed. You're going to need a lot of sleep for what's in store for you tomorrow." She paused and took a deep breath.

  "We only want to help you fight the Dark Enemy," said Janie earnestly.

  "Your grandfather has everything under control!" snapped Clair. "You are children. It's our job to protect you."

  "Tell that to the guy at the zoo!" Chase blurted out. "What about him, huh?"

  Clair's eyes met Grandfather's. "What happened to you was unfortunate," she said. "Now that we're aware they've become more of a threat, we're doing everything possible to keep us safe."

  "But—" began Chase.

  "We're not going to argue about it!" she snapped. "Dad? Miranda?"

  Grandfather gave a curt nod, as did Mrs. Periwinkle, after one last furious look at her daughter. Again, Grandfather flicked his hand and the kids vanished.

  "And clean your room, Chase Tinker!" yelled Clair, shaking her fist at the ceiling.

  An instant later, Chase and Andy popped into their bedroom; Andy on his spotless side and Chase on top of his clutter.

  "That went well," said Chase. Not! He kicked aside a pair of rumpled blue jeans.

  "I thought it sucked!" said Andy as he dug in his drawer for his pajamas. "Aunt Clair sure can scream loud. My poor ears will be ringing for the rest of the night. Why didn't Grandfather yell at us?"

  "Probably 'cause he couldn't get a word in over Aunt Clair's yelling," said Chase.

  "But he should've said something."

  "If you ask me, the look on his face said plenty," said Chase. "Anyway, I know they think we're too young for stuff, but I don't. And even if Grandfather is mad at us, I'm glad we found those rooms. We need to be prepared!"

  "Yeah, yeah." Andy yawned and clambered into bed. "I'm gonna get some sleep. I want to be ready for whatever Grandfather and Aunt Clair are planning for us." He pulled one of Chase's dirty socks from under his blankets. "Gross," he grumbled, tossing it across the room.

  While Andy slept, Chase cleaned his side of the bedroom by flinging everything into a big jumbled pile. Remembering the treasure chest key, he pulled it from his pocket. He thought about sticking it under the mattress, except that was probably too obvious a hiding place. He finally rolled it in a crumpled t-shirt and tucked it at the back of a drawer along with his lucky race car and favorite baseball cards.

  Climbing into bed at last, he pulled the blankets over his head and closed his eyes. Hoping that by morning Grandfather and Aunt Clair would have calmed down a bit, he drifted off to sleep…

  He couldn't breathe. He struggled to escape, pushing at—something. The darkness and silence weighed down on him like a heavy blanket. He jerked his head back and forth as the numbing coldness seeped into his skin, and a frightening shadow circled him, coming closer and closer. He had to get back to the light...but finding a way seemed impossible as he sank deeper and deeper into blackness. "No! No! Help me!" he screamed in his mind.

  "Chase! Come on, wake up!"

  Chase heard Andy's voice coming from far away, as though his brother was calling down a long, narrow tunnel. Fighting his way toward it, he thought he wasn't going to make it when suddenly, his eyes flew open and he was able to suck in deep breaths of cool, fresh air.

  "Oh, man! You scared me with all your moaning and thrashing around," said Andy. "Were you having a nightmare?"

  The bedclothes were twisted around him. Chase shoved them aside and sat up. Panting madly, he wiped droplets of sweat from his brow with a shaking hand. "I hope so."

  "You hope so? Why would you want to have a nightmare?"

  Chase flopped back onto his pillow, feeling as if his whole body were made of rubber. "Because, if that was a premonition…I'm dead."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Swimming with Sharks

  Chase was sure his body would never feel the same. His arms and shoulders ached from five days of scrubbing and polishing every painting frame in the house. The worst place had been the Hall of Portraits. He now wore several black and purple bruises where Aunt Augusta had clobbered him for trying to wipe a smudge off her nose. Not only that, he'd spent hours cleaning ashes and soot from every single fireplace. It was definitely going to be a long time before he caused any more trouble.

  "I can't believe how many tables and chairs are in this place," grumbled Andy as they munched on tuna fish sandwiches and celery sticks. Grandfather and Aunt Clair had insisted that every piece of furniture should shine as if it were brand new. "Even my blisters have blisters. I thought magical dusters and brooms did all the cleaning around here."

  "Those brooms and mops can vacation for a year now," said Chase. "This house is spotless."

  "At least you didn't have to clean the bathrooms," muttered Persephone as she yanked the crusts off her bread. "If I have to scrub one more toilet, I'll puke."

  "All that yard work hasn't been a picnic either," said Janie, before taking a huge bite from her sandwich. "I'll never get the dirt from under my fingernails," she mumbled.

  "You guys think you've had it bad," added James, "try polishing all the floors in this freakin' house."

  Everyone ignored him. They thought he deserved the worst punishment of all.

  "I've worked my fingers to the bone!" he said even louder. "This is the worst summer vacation ever! I should've told them, no way, I ain't doing it. I don't care what—"

  Andy flicked his hand at James. The other boy stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging wide open.

  "All right, Andy!" said Chase as they high-fived each other. "Good one."

  "I love your power," said Persephone, smiling at him.

  The kitchen door swung open and in walked Clair. "I have some news for you kids." She paused when she saw their grinning faces. "What's going on?" Her gaze landed on James. "Okay, unfreeze your cousin," she said, looking at Andy with her eyebrows raised.

  "Party pooper," he mumbled as the other kids snickered behind their sandwiches. He waved his hand and James continued talking.

  "—the old lady thinks—" He stopped when he saw Clair standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips. "Uh, hi, Mom. Where did—um. What's up?"

  "Old lady? Cute, James," she said, scowling. "Anyway, you kids have worked hard this week and we hope you've learned a good lesson. So, your grandfather, Miranda and I have decided to give you the rest of the day off as your reward. You had better stay out of trouble, though, or you'll be sorry." She snatched a sandwich off the plate. "This house has a lot of gutters and windows that could use some cleaning," she added before disappearing out the door.

  "Thank goodness!" exclaimed Janie. "I need to soak in a bubble bath for a week to get rid of all the dirt embedded in my skin."

  "I'd like to do a little fishing," said James. "Care to join me, Chase?"

  Chase dropped his sandwich. "You want to go fishing with me?"

  "Sure, it'll be fun."

  "I've never been," Chase said, glancing out the window. "Besides, it's cloudy outside."

  "It's the best time to go. That way the fish can't see our shadows in the water," said James. "Come on. It's relaxing. Grandfather said he has some po
les stashed in the broom closet here in the kitchen and we can take that motorboat."

  Chase narrowed his eyes at his cousin, not sure if he was up to something. But it was just fishing, wasn't it? How much trouble could they get into? If James tried anything, he'd be ready. And, he was interested in learning to fish. Aunt Clair had said his dad liked to do it.

  "Okay, sure, I'll go with you, James. Anybody else want to come along?"

  Andy and Persephone glanced at each other. "No!" they exclaimed together.

  "We—uh—got other things to do," said Persephone. "So go. Have fun. And, Chase, be sure to watch out for sharks. If you know what I mean."

  Chase frowned at her. Sharks? In Puget Sound? Now, that was a new one to him.

  Half an hour later, with his sunglasses perched on his nose and a long fishing pole dangling over his shoulder, he followed James down to the beach. It felt great to be outside in the fresh air, away from all those musty portraits staring down their noses at him like he was some sort of slimy toadstool growing on the carpet.

  The motorboat sat where the kids had left it on the afternoon Clair arrived. Chase had avoided it ever since. James tossed the bait, a cooler filled with snacks and drinks and his pole into the boat. He turned to Chase. "Come on. What's the hold up?"

  Chase shook his head to clear it of the memory of the disappointment he'd felt that afternoon when he'd found only his dad's soggy coat lying in the bottom of the boat. Sometimes it was way too difficult not to think about the stuff he really didn't want to think about these days.

  Shoving the craft into the water, the boys hopped into it. James insisted on steering. He gave several long, sharp tugs to the motor's starter cord. The engine sputtered for a moment, then roared to life as gray exhaust smoke drifted from the back of it. He maneuvered carefully past a sandbar and chugged out of the shallows. Soon they were tearing across the open water, the wind blowing through their hair.

  Chase, his back to the front of the boat, watched the trail of white water left behind them as they zoomed past a freight-laden barge and a ferry boat chugging across the Sound. He grabbed onto the side as they bumped across another boat's wake.

  "Where are we going?" he shouted over the loud engine noise, the wind whipping his words away.

  "I'm looking for a good place!" yelled James as he steered past a slow-moving sailboat and waved to the people on board.

  Chase wasn't sure how long they traveled before James slowed down and came to a stop, shutting off the engine. It was blissfully quiet. The boat bobbed in the deep, blue-green water, small waves slapping against its sides.

  Chase gulped and squinted all around. From his viewpoint, the rolling slices of land in the distance were much too far away. "Uh, are you sure this is a good spot? We're out in the middle of nowhere."

  "It'll do." James picked up his pole, opened the bait can and pulled out a hunk of shrimp. He stuck the shrimp on the end of the sharp hook and swung it into the water. Popping open a soda can, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

  Trying to act as cool as his cousin, Chase added some shrimp to his hook and dangled his pole off the opposite side. "So, how long does this usually take?"

  James shrugged. "Might be right away, might be hours and hours."

  Great, thought Chase as he propped his arms on his knees, hours and hours. He stared at the bottom of the boat. The words 'Now I see it' ran through his mind and instantly he was able to see through the wood and into the water. Several fish swam by, but nothing big enough for dinner. He took a deep breath of warm, salty air. Actually, this was rather relaxing.

  "Thank God we're done with all that crappy housework," said James as he sipped his soda pop. "That sucked."

  "Yeah," said Chase. "I guess we deserved it, though."

  "No way. We have every right to know about those rooms."

  "Maybe." The boat rocked gently as Chase gazed across the water. A thin mist drifted above the surface, while the far-off roar of another motorboat reached his ears.

  "That Persephone sure is hot," said James nonchalantly. "Don't you think?"

  "She's okay," said Chase, ducking his head to hide his blushing face.

  James snorted. "Okay? Yeah, right. You think she's more than okay." He sent Chase a sly glance out of the corner of his eye. "I'd go out with her."

  Chase didn't answer. I hope she has better taste, he thought.

  "So sounds like you're a fan of my dad's work," James continued in the same friendly tone. Chase nodded. "He paints some pretty cool pictures."

  "I can introduce you sometime."

  "That'd be great! Maybe Grandfather can ask him to visit too."

  Several minutes of silence passed as James tossed pieces of shrimp over the side of the boat. "You know what doesn't seem right to me?"

  "What's that?"

  James stared at a passing seagull. "That I'm older than you, but you get to be the next Keeper of the House."

  "I didn't make the rules," said Chase, his relaxed mood turning sour as he yanked his fishing line from the water and tossed it back in. "Anyway, my dad is the next Keeper."

  "From what I hear, your dad's dead," said James. "So that makes you next in line."

  "I don't know who you've been talking to," said Chase, his hands tightening around his pole's handle, "but my dad is not dead!"

  "He's been missing for a long time, so he might as well be," James taunted. "And with the old man getting on in years, it won't be long 'til he's pushing up daisies too."

  "Grandfather's fine!" snapped Chase. "And what if you did become the next Keeper? Our magic is supposed to be used for good. Would you do that? Or would you use it against people?"

  "I'd use it any way I want," said James, sitting up. "Janie told me that if someone doesn't want the position, they can pass it on." He pulled his fishing line into the boat and fiddled with the hook. "Four-eyes and my mom will be easy enough to handle. But you…"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "This!" James dropped his pole and began rocking the boat violently back and forth. Waves rolled over the sides, soaking Chase's sneakers.

  "James! What are you doing?"

  A split second later, James's arm stretched out, bashed Chase on the shoulder and flipped him from the boat.

  He hit the water with a loud splash. James's stretchy arm shoved him under, deeper and deeper. He struggled wildly, pulling at the ghostly-green hand that pressed him farther into the darkness and silence of the murky water. He had to get away from the numbing coldness seeping into his skin and bones. He needed air. He was seriously starting to panic when he saw something: a huge, shadowy form moving toward him.

  "Help me!" he screamed in his mind.

  Chase wasn't sure how deep he was when the pushing stopped. He flailed his arms and legs, lost and confused. Fear tore at his insides. He felt light-headed and he barely had the strength to swim back to the top. Feeling a nudge from behind, he turned. Reaching out blindly, he grasped what felt to be smooth, strong, satiny cloth.

  Chase and his rescuer sped through the cold, dark water. Just as he thought he would surely pass out, his head broke the surface and he was able to gulp in the fresh summer air. Coughing and gasping, he blinked the salty water from his eyes. James and the motorboat were nowhere in sight, but a large orca whale was. It bobbed its large black and white head playfully.

  "Thank you," Chase panted as he paddled weakly in the rippling water and tried his hardest to stay afloat. He didn't know if the animal understood, but it sure acted like it did. "You saved my life." Feeling sick to his stomach, he didn't want to even think about how close he'd come to dying, or how unbelievably stupid he'd been to think it would be okay to go fishing with James.

  "Can—can you take me home?" he asked the whale.

  It turned and offered its long fin. Chase grabbed on with both hands. They skimmed across the water at an exhilarating speed, water spraying behind them like a giant rooster's tail.

  Chase's arms felt ready to fall out
of their sockets when he saw the house in the distance, growing larger with each passing second. Never in his life was he so happy or relieved to see a stretch of sandy beach. He let go of the fin, but he didn't want to swim to shore until the whale knew how grateful he was for its help. As he reached up to brush back his wet hair, he noticed he no longer had his sunglasses. "Oh no! I lost my new sunglasses."

  The orca opened its mouth. Lying on its huge, pink tongue was a pair of black and green sunglasses.

  "You found them!" Chase exclaimed, lifting them gingerly from the whale's mouth. He wasn't sure if whales had saliva or not, but he took a second to rinse the glasses off before slipping them on. The huge animal turned and winked. Chase grinned. This had to be the same whale they'd seen their first day in Seattle.

  "Thanks for your help," he yelled, waving to the whale as it swam away.

  The motorboat was nowhere in sight as Chase splashed to shore. He flopped to the ground and lay there like a limp jellyfish. Most of the clouds had drifted away and the sun felt good on his chilled body.

  A flame of anger started to burn inside him. Did James really want to be Keeper of the House badly enough to attack Chase for it? He rubbed his wrist, wishing he had his watch. When it came time to face James it would be great to have a little extra protection. He smiled grimly as he pictured James tied up tighter than a Christmas package and roasting under the hot summer sun.

  Chase wasn't sure how long he lay sprawled on the beach before he heard the sound of an engine. He jerked up and gazed across the water. He was looking forward to seeing the look on James's face when he saw his wicked plan hadn't worked.

  As the craft sailed nearer to the shoreline, something odd began to happen. It started to rock crazily from side to side. James scrambled to his feet. He grabbed an oar and swung it at a tall black dorsal fin as it skimmed close to the boat before disappearing beneath the water. The boat tipped far to the side. James teetered on the edge for a second, waving his arms, then tumbled into the water. The boat continued to putter toward the beach.