Cursed! Page 5

  His current project was studying his favorite book about Egypt. Slowly he sounded out, “Stages of Mummification.”

  Finally the construction guys arrived, and the chaos got even worse. There was a steady flow of people and stuff and noise in and out of the house. At least it all came through the back door and straight down the stairs to the basement, instead of up the stairs past my room.

  With Dad and BB helping in the basement, and Mom sick, it became my job to walk Bear. Lewis came too, and sometimes the Spirit Man. I hated it. Bear was just too big for me. He whined and pulled at the leash whenever the Spirit Man came with us. Or if he saw a squirrel. Or a cat. Or—well, there were a lot of things Bear wanted to know more about.

  While I hung on to the end of his leash, I kept telling myself it would all be worth it if we could get to Grandma’s for Christmas.

  CHAPTER 10

  Egyptian Curses

  When I finally went back to school, I discovered that Byron had really missed me. He pulled my hair, stole my pencils and sharpened them down to stubs, and turned to chat with me over and over and over.

  When Mrs. Von Hirschberg was organizing us with partners for a project, she looked at Byron and then at me, and tipped her head.

  Me? I thought. With Byron? I sat frozen in horror. This had to be another torture from the Spirit Man. I took a deep breath and shook my head desperately. No. Mrs. Von Hirschberg nodded and paired Byron with Drew.

  Byron kept at me anyway. Finally I decided to do more than endure. The next time he walked to the back of the room to sharpen his pencil, I dangled one braid over my shoulder.

  I listened for him walking up the aisle, and knew exactly when his hand reached out for my braid. I closed my hand over his wrist and said, in the voice Dad uses with Bear and BB, “Don’t!”

  He froze and slowly opened his hand. The back of his neck was red when he sat down.

  I was proud of myself, until he followed me home from school. I hurried Lewis along, trying to get him home before Byron caused any trouble. He stopped at the end of our block.

  Mom sent us right back out to take Bear for a walk. He’d been inside all day and was bursting with energy. I didn’t dare let him run or he’d pull me over, so we argued with each other all the way up the block.

  Byron was still there. I walked straight to him, Bear leaping ahead of me. Byron wouldn’t dare bully Lewis or me if he knew about Bear.

  But he wasn’t scared. Byron knelt down and buried his hands in Bear’s fur. Bear licked him. Byron laughed and said, “Who’s a good boy?”

  I stood there, stunned. He liked Bear?

  Lewis knelt beside him. “His name is Bear.”

  I groaned. Don’t introduce them! “C’mon, Lewis, we have to take him to the park.”

  “Can I come?” asked Byron, jumping up and walking beside us.

  “Sure,” said Lewis, before I could say no. I glanced behind me, looking for the Spirit Man. This would be just his kind of thing.

  When we got to the park, Bear whined and pulled at the leash. I tugged him back.

  “He wants to run,” Byron said.

  “Of course he wants to run,” I snapped. “He’s been inside all day. But he’s too big for me.”

  “Let me take him,” Byron said, reaching for the leash.

  I yanked it back. “No way.”

  Byron stopped. “I really like dogs,” he said. “And I’m bigger than you. I could take him for a run across the park and right back to you, and he’d be really happy.” He stood looking at me, waiting for me to decide.

  Wow, he sounded almost nice. Did he mean it? I checked around again—no Spirit Man. I handed over the leash. “Across the park and right back to me. Don’t let go!”

  He grinned and called out, “C’mon, Bear!” They dashed across the park, behind the wading pool, around the far side of the playground, and then back across the park in great loops.

  When they reached us, they were both grinning. Byron handed me the leash. “Can we do this again tomorrow?” he asked, still smiling.

  “Sure,” said Lewis. “Bear would love it.”

  Lewis! Then I looked down at Bear, panting and happy. I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, he really did like it. Tomorrow would be fine.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was a good trade, but at least Byron stopped pulling my hair. Every day he’d walk home with us after school, wait while we got Bear and take him for a run around the park. Sometimes he brought doggie treats. Bear loved him. I tried not to think about it.

  Now that I had Byron under control, it was time to plan my birthday. The house was still in chaos; I’d have to organize my party around that. At least the renovation would be done for the Boys’ Birthday Party in February. Lewis, Dad and BB have birthdays within weeks of each other, so we have one celebration every year on the Family Day long weekend. We invite all our friends and have a really big party to liven up winter. Mom cooks for days, and Dad makes his special collection of salsas: red and green, fresh and cooked, mild and blistering hot.

  Mom was too tired to make any fancy plans, which meant my party could really be mine. I wanted it small: just Kara and Lewis and Bear, and some friends from school—Lucy and Claire and Olivia. BB was going out, so he wouldn’t be bouncing all around us, waving light sabers and flying helicopters. And Dad had promised no construction. It would be perfect, as long as the Spirit Man behaved.

  On the morning of my party, Bear woke me from another dream about the Spirit Man. He whined and nuzzled me with his cold nose. I thought he was whining because the Spirit Man was in my room, but he kept bugging me, pulling at the covers and letting in freezing air.

  “Bear, stop it,” I snapped. As I pulled the covers back, I muttered, “Why is it so cold?”

  Then I shot out of bed. “Why is it so cold?”

  I turned on my bedside lamp; nothing happened. I groped in the dark for my housecoat and slippers, and felt my way to the bathroom. No lights there either.

  I groaned and walked into Mom and Dad’s room.

  I leaned in the doorway and called out, “Mom, Dad. There’s no power. It’s my birthday, the house is cold, and there’s no power.”

  Dad woke cursing.

  He wrapped up in a robe and slippers, and we walked through the house together. We peered out the front window. Snow was falling in slow fat flakes, coating every tree, bush and power line in a thick blanket.

  “No streetlights,” Dad said. “And all the neighbor’s houses are dark. It looks like the power’s out in the whole neighborhood.”

  “Why is it so cold?” I asked. “Doesn’t the furnace burn gas?”

  Dad frowned. “Yes, but it has an electric fan to move the air. So no power means no heat.”

  He walked into the kitchen and phoned the power company.

  “The furnace doesn’t work but the phone does?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Cool, isn’t it?” he said as he listened to the recorded message. He groaned and hung up. “The snow has brought down power lines; they’re working as fast as they can.”

  “How fast is that?” I asked. “Fast enough for my party?”

  Dad shook his head. “I have no idea. We’ll light the fire, dig out flashlights and find candles. It’ll be fun!”

  I scurried back to my room to get dressed. I glared at the Spirit Man lurking in the corner of my bedroom. “I’m not going to let you ruin my party,” I muttered. “I am not!”

  By early afternoon we still had no power, but the living room was warm from the fire. While we couldn’t bake a cake, Mom and Dad had figured out some snacks we could eat cold. Lewis added pickles to the feast.

  Kara arrived, covered in snow. She and her dad had walked over.

  “All the traffic lights are out,” Kara’s dad said, as he tried not to shake too much snow onto the floor. “And the snow is wet and really heavy, so the roads are a mess!”

  The phone rang. Mom answered and then called out to us, “Claire can’t come. Her parents don’t want
to drive in this weather.”

  The phone rang again. “That was Olivia,” Mom said as she walked into the living room with three fat candles. “She’ll be late, but at least she’s coming.”

  The Spirit Man joined us, standing in the shadows in the corner of the living room. He stood impassive, with just a ghost of a smile on his face. I thought turning ten would be a really big moment, but being cursed is much bigger.

  “He’s here,” I said, nodding toward the corner. “He did this, and he’s here to watch the party fail.” I frowned at him.

  “Who?” asked Kara.

  “The Spirit Man,” I said. “Who else?”

  “You see him?”

  “Sure, right in the corner. He’s watching us.”

  Kara glanced at the corner, and then at me, looking concerned. “You’re seeing things, Jane.”

  I shook my head.

  “You have a very big imagination,” said Lewis.

  I shook my head again. This was not my imagination.

  Then Bear walked in, spotted the Spirit Man and whined.

  I pulled him close. “I know, Bear. You hate him too.”

  Kara’s and Lewis’s eyes went wide as they stared from Bear to the corner where I claimed the Spirit Man was lurking.

  “What, you don’t believe me but you believe Bear?”

  They both shivered. Then Kara said, “I’ve been reading up on curses. Well, Egyptian curses. I couldn’t find anything about other kinds. Ancient Egyptians believed in curses and magic, and they wrote curses on their tombs. This one was found in the tombs of the builders of the pyramids of Giza, in Egypt.” She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolded it and read:

  Oh, all people who enter this tomb,

  Who will make evil against this tomb, and destroy it:

  May the crocodile be against them on water,

  And snakes against them on land.

  May the hippopotamus be against them on water, The scorpion against them on land.

  I shivered. “That’s really creepy.”

  “We could use it for the party,” said Lewis.

  “What?” Kara and I both stared at him.

  He smiled and looked around the living room. “We could pretend we’re in a tomb, lit only with candles. A sandstorm is raging outside.”

  I started to smile.

  “People are late or can’t come because of the curse!” Kara added.

  Lucy finally arrived, cold and wet, and Olivia showed up not much later. We played Lewis’s game, and it turned into a great party.

  We were caught in a fierce sandstorm as we searched for the tomb of Osiris. Lewis gave Mom a book and asked her to read part of it and pretend she was a priestess of Isis. She warned us to stay away from the tomb and said that terrible things would happen if we tried to open it.

  We became trapped in the tomb, hoping someone would find us and dig us out.

  “But would they be good guys or bad guys?” Olivia asked.

  “Either way, if they dig us out, that would be good,” said Lewis.

  The snacks were rations from our backpacks, and the presents became treasures we unearthed from the tomb.

  Far too soon, the doorbell rang. Lucy’s mom was early and in a rush to get home.

  “You have to leave?” we all complained.

  “Maybe you’re going on a side exploration,” Kara said. “Or you get lost in the desert.”

  Lucy grinned. “Yeah, I get lost in the desert and die of thirst, and my bones lie in the sun forever.”

  “And don’t forget the curse,” said Kara. She pulled the paper out of her pocket and read the curse again, standing tall and chanting as if she was an Egyptian priestess.

  Olivia squeaked, and Lucy shivered.

  Bear snuggled in closer. Kara patted him and said, “Bear, you get eaten by a really big snake.”

  “Or maybe a hippopotamus,” Lucy suggested.

  “Definitely a hippopotamus,” said Lewis.

  Bear whined.

  Olivia was eaten by crocodiles, and Kara contracted a disfiguring disease and died a painful, lingering death.

  When everyone had left, Mom asked, “Did you have fun?”

  “Oh yeah! Everyone died in a horrible way— it was a great party!”

  “Uh…good,” said Mom.

  I just grinned.

  CHAPTER 11

  Pleurisy for Christmas

  The power came back on just after we’d eaten a cold dinner. But the problem wasn’t over. By morning we had a water leak from a pipe in the basement wall that froze when the house was cold.

  Dad and BB set to work cleaning up the mess, while a plumber tore apart the new wall to get to the leak. Then all the soggy bits had to be dried up or hauled away, and the damaged renovation work repaired. Through it all, Mom got more and more tired.

  One morning when I came downstairs for breakfast, Dad said, “Jane, your mom hurt her shoulder. I’m going to take her to the doctor as soon as I get you guys off to school.”

  I looked at Mom sitting on the sofa, sagging and pale.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “It just started hurting when I was in the shower, and it hurts to breathe.”

  Dad rushed us through breakfast and handed us money to buy lunch. Then we headed out.

  Mom was moving really slowly as she got ready to go.

  “Are you going to be okay, Mom?” I asked.

  “Of course. I’ll tell you all about it after school.”

  “All right,” I said, but when I looked back, she was leaning against the wall for a moment, her eyes closed.

  I worried all day.

  Mom was lying on the sofa when we got home from school, with Dad sitting near her.

  “Mom, you’re okay.” I raced in for a hug.

  Dad caught me. “Careful now. Your mom is pretty sore.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Mom smiled a little. “I have pleurisy.”

  “What’s that?

  “I have a pocket of air on the outside of my lung. It’s not a big deal—it just hurts while it heals.”

  “I thought your shoulder hurt.”

  “It did, but it turns out my shoulder hurts because my lungs hurt, not the other way around.”

  “So you’re going to be okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. The doctor says I should be better ‘in seven to ten days,’” she said in a formal voice, imitating the doctor.

  “Why did it happen?”

  Mom and Dad glanced at each other. “They’re not sure. They checked for all the nasty causes, and I don’t have any.”

  “Nasty?” I asked. “Like what?” I started to worry again when they hesitated. “Tell me!”

  “Pneumonia, lung cancer, a blood clot.”

  My eyes got bigger and bigger. “Mom, those are awful things!”

  “Which I don’t have.”

  “So why do you have pleurisy?”

  “The doctor wasn’t sure. He thought maybe I’d had a virus and just wasn’t very sick from it.”

  “But you haven’t been sick, exactly, just tired, so maybe they missed something.”

  “Jane, they worry as much as you do. I had all kinds of weird tests, and they were all negative. I just have pleurisy.”

  “How weird?”

  “Well, after the X-rays and blood tests, including an arterial stab, which is taking blood from the wrist—that was really nasty—I got to breathe in radioactive material and have the airways of my lungs scanned. Then I was injected with more radioactive material and the blood vessels of my lungs were scanned.”

  I could feel my eyes growing bigger and bigger.

  “And it’s all fine,” Mom said. “I’m not telling you this to scare you, but to show you how thorough they were. They were very careful, and they wouldn’t let me leave until they knew I don’t have anything dangerous. I’ll be fine.”

  I walked away cursing the Spirit Man. I could cope with storms and Byron and Mrs. Von H
irschberg and a totally weird birthday party, but making Mom sick was going way too far.

  I searched the house for him. I finally found him in my bedroom, standing by the window.

  I slammed the door and stalked up to him. “You,” I said, pointing my finger into his face, “You have gone too far.”

  He glared back.

  “Don’t you glare at me,” I scolded. “You have gone way too far. Mom is really sick because of your games.” I was shaking with anger, and I used it to speak just like Mom does when one of us has done something really bad.

  “You leave my mother alone! You leave my father alone. And my brothers. And my dog! Or I’ll toss you into a wood chipper, so help me!”

  The Spirit Man quivered.

  “And don’t think you can slink off and hurt someone else. No more hurting people!” I stomped my foot. He shivered and faded a little.

  “Now go into the corner and stay there all night. Don’t even think about causing any trouble.”

  He retreated into the corner, faded and quiet. I strode out of my room, looking stern. But as soon as I closed the door behind me, I started to shake. What had I done?

  At dinner BB joked about how pleurisy sounded like an old disease, like gout or consumption. Lewis struggled with how to say it.

  “Plur-iss-eee,” I said, pronouncing each syllable carefully.

  BB, Lewis and I helped with dinner and dishes while Mom rested, a heating pad on her chest.

  Seven days passed, and Mom still hurt. After ten days, there was no improvement. Mom looked pale, almost gray, with dark shadows under her eyes. Her eyelids drooped with fatigue.

  Slowly we settled into a new routine. We all pitched in with the housework, but then we’d separate. Dad and BB worked in the basement, trying to keep it clean and get the renovation done as soon as possible. Mom rested on the sofa, cell phone and laptop nearby so she could do some work. Lewis and I hung out in my room, where I helped Lewis with his reading.

  Bear wandered back and forth, checking on Dad and BB and the renovation, keeping Mom company during the day and cuddling with Lewis and me in the evening.