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Mallory took one look at my face, and her jaw dropped. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” I kept moving toward the outer door. “We have to get back to your mom. Are we late?”
Mallory checked her watch. “We still have time.”
I grabbed her arm and pulled. “Come on, Mal. Let’s go.”
Once we stepped out into the bright sunshine, my heart slowed and my panic diminished. The heat of the day hit like molten lava and the smell of frying grease and overcooked hotdogs floated in the air. I felt like someone had flipped a switch—I heard the squeals, bells, clanging and murmurs of the crowd again. I released my grip on Mallory’s arm.
“What got into you? Did you see a ghost or something?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?” Mallory’s eyes widened. “You saw a ghost?”
“No. Madame Vadoma creeped me out.” I headed toward the crowded aisles. “At the end, she got all freaky, looking around the room like she was scared and blowing on her fingers.” I didn’t know whether to tell her about the card changing ... she might think I’d gone crazy.
“Really?” Mallory’s voice trailed up. “She calmed me down and told me the nicest things. She even gave me a crystal.” She opened the drawstring and held up a round stone which had been carved into a skull, dark green with bands of turquoise, and shiny.
It must be the same type of stone as the skull in the outer room of the tent, in miniature. “She gave you a rock? Weird. She gave me a journal.” I showed her the thin book. What kind of journal had so few pages?
Her thumb rubbed the surface of the crystal. “Well, technically a rock, but this is smooth and polished, and feels good when I rub it.”
I held out my hand. “Let me feel.”
Mallory took a step back and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Angela. Madame Vadoma told me not to let anyone else touch it.”
My hand dropped. “Oh, she didn’t say anything like that about the journal.” I fanned through the thin book; it’d be full in a couple days. Except for the leather cover, chintzy.
“Oh, no.” I snapped my fingers.
“What?”
“We have to go back.” Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t pay Madame Vadoma, did you?”
Mallory’s hand flew to her mouth. “I forgot.”
“I expected her to ask for the money first.” Steeling myself, I turned around. Especially since she gave us gifts, we couldn’t stiff her.
The tent was gone.
The cat sat on the spot where the tent had been, watching us. I blinked a few times. Still no tent past the booths. Where did it go?
Mallory and I exchanged a confused look.
Her eyebrows rose. “How ...?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You two want to move on or move over? You’re blocking traffic.”
Startled, I whipped my head around. “Sorry.” The word was out before I realized we’d been told off by a clown.
The clown leaned down to a little girl and asked if she wanted a giraffe. Then he pulled balloons out of his pocket and started blowing.
How rude. I get that we were blocking the aisle, but then he did the same thing. Just like an adult ... all do what I say and not what I do. Ugh.
I grabbed Mallory’s arm and pulled her along. We moved between a couple booths because not as many people tried walking between them.
“What the heck?” I stared at Mallory. Her face was pale and eyes were wide. She looked as shocked as I felt. “Where did the tent go?”
She pushed her glasses firmly in place. “I don’t know. Angela, there’s no way the tent could have been taken down that fast. We would have seen something, but there was nothing.”
“I know.” Freaky. “I didn’t imagine it.” Who was I trying to convince?
Mallory nodded. “Me either. We even have proof.” She held up her pouch.
That’s right. If the tent didn’t exist, I wouldn’t be clutching this journal. The journal with a spell put on it by a fortune-teller. Or maybe a curse. My stomach twisted. Curses weren’t real ... were they?
“We should find the information booth so we can ask them how to pay Madame Vadoma and maybe learn something more about her.”
We made our way through the crowd, then stood in line and waited our turn.
Mrs. Halverson, the school secretary, ran the information booth. “Yes, girls?”
Now that we were here, I didn’t know how to start. I felt stupid saying I couldn’t find a tent we left moments earlier. Saying it disappeared would be even worse. “Uh, Mrs. Halverson, we forgot to pay Madame Vadoma and don’t know where she is now.”
“Madame Vadoma? Who is Madame Vadoma?” Mrs. Halverson took her glasses off and let them hang from the chain around her neck.
Mallory piped up. “The fortune-teller. She told our fortunes, but we forgot to pay her.”
Mrs. Halverson frowned. “I don’t know what you girls are talking about. We didn’t hire a fortune-teller this year. Some parents objected and we wanted to avoid any controversy.”
“But we saw her and ...”
I stepped on Mallory’s foot. “Thanks Mrs. Halverson. Someone must have played a joke on us. Uh, thanks, again.” I pulled Mallory away from the table.
She elbowed me. “Did you have to step on my foot so hard?”
I grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t want her to ask us any questions. Mrs. Halverson should know who she booked for the carnival.” I looked around us. “I feel like we entered bizarro world.”
The corners of Mallory’s mouth turned down. “Well, I know I wasn’t dreaming. We went into a tent and we both had readings with Madame Vadoma. We even have stuff from her to prove it.”
Uh oh. When she made up her mind and decided to be stubborn about it, it was like wrangling with a pit bull over a piece of meat. She never let go. “Mal, don’t make a big stink about this. Do you know how strange it’s going to sound to someone else?” I rubbed my hand across my eyes. “We’re going to sound like a couple crazy kids making up stories.”
“But what do you think happened?”
Thank goodness. For once she was going to stand down. I shrugged. “I wish I knew. Kinda spooky, don’t you think?”
Mallory nodded.
“But we have to find your mom before she freaks because we’re late.”
When we reached Mrs. Chan by the dunk tank, her clothes were wilted from the heat. Kirky had fallen asleep in the stroller.
The faculty took turns in the dunk tank, and Vice Principal Lassiter climbed to the platform. He ran his hand over the mat of hair covering his concave chest as he got ready for the first contestant. There were things in life no student should ever see, and the Vice Principal’s naked, hairy chest was one of them.
Billy Shipman, a big bruiser, took the ball, spun it in his hand then wiped the sweat from his forehead. He inhaled through his nose with a gargling sound and spit snot on the grass.
Gross.
Mr. Lassiter catcalled from inside the tank. “No arm on this one. You’re gonna miss, Billy.”
Billy tossed the ball up and caught it.
“What are you waiting for? The target isn’t getting any bigger.”
Billy’s face turned red and he fired the ball. He nicked the edge of the target, but not hard enough to dunk Mr. Lassiter. He immediately fished in his wallet and paid for another chance.
“Oh too bad, Billy. Better luck this time.” Mr. Lassiter swung his feet back and forth.
“You’re goin’ down, Lassiter.” Billy threw the ball.
Missed.
“That’s Mister Lassiter to you.” He laughed. “Your coach needs to spend more time with you in practice.”
Billy stomped a few steps away, pounding his fist in his hand and muttering under his breath.
Zach wandered into the area and Mallory’s face lit up. She nudged me.
“What?”
“No one else is in line, why don’t you take a shot?”
I wiped the sweat beads off my forehead. “I don’t know.”
Billy stalked back and forth like a caged tiger, waiting to unleash his anger on some unsuspecting kid.
Zach waved and made straight for us ... and ran into Billy. He bounced off Billy, stumbled a couple steps back and fell on his butt.
After a quick look at Mr. Lassiter, Billy kicked dirt on Zach. “Watch where you’re goin’, shrimp.”
Zach scrambled to his feet and dusted his shorts off.
“Where’d you get those scrawny chicken legs anyway, Taylor?” Billy tucked his thumbs into his armpits. “Bwauck. Bwauck, bwauck.” He flapped his arms while scratching at the dirt with his feet. “You’re just a chicken in boy form and you got the legs to prove it.”
Zach’s jaw set and clenched his hands into fists.
“Whatsa matter, Chicken-boy. You gonna cry?”
We needed a distraction and quick. If Zach tried to beat up Billy, he would get pulverized. All Billy had to do was sit on him.
Mallory nudged me in the side. “I’ll bet if you buy three chances, you’ll get Mr. Lassiter with one of the throws.” She used her best coaxing voice.
The one I always gave in to. It was odd ... Mallory wouldn’t say boo to a goose, except answering questions in class, and with me.
“All right. But no teasing if I miss.” At least, it would stop Billy from torturing Zach.
She grinned. “Deal. But you won’t miss.”
I bought my chances.
“Whaddya think you’re doin’, Ashby?” Billy Shipman stood between me and the target, his mouth curled into a sneer.
I held the ball in front of his face. “I’m gonna throw the ball, whaddya think?”
Billy tried to snatch the ball as I skipped two steps to the side.
Between Billy and Cynthia it was a tight race for the biggest bully award. “What’s it to you, Shipman? Is there a law that says you have to be on the baseball team?”
His nostrils flared. “You’ll miss.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about. Get out of my way.” I pushed him to the side.
Lassiter muffled his laughter behind his hand. “Next up, we have Angela. No arm on this one for sure. I’m going to be dry all day long.”
I threw the ball and it sailed high. Missed by a mile.
Billy Shipman sniggered. “That was worse than both of mine combined. What’re you gonna do for an encore?”
Cynthia joined Billy. “Good grief, Ash-can. You throw like a girl.”
I had to throw twice more in front of Cynthia and Billy? If I missed again, my life was over—they’d never let me hear the end of it. I’d never forgive Mallory. I glanced over at the sidelines and she and Zach gave me a thumbs up.
“Come on Angela, you can miss again.” Lassiter’s smile spread.
He got a kick out of everyone missing. I didn’t know whether I could put up with his smirking for two more throws. Especially if I missed.
I looked at the ground to shut out the rest of the world and the black cat from the fortune-teller tent trotted across the grass in front of me. Strange how it kept showing up.
“Quit stalling and throw, Miss Ashby.”
Lassiter’s smug expression made me want to knock the smile off his face.
Cynthia’s braying laugh surged over everything else, and anger ignited inside me. I imagined the target was her head and threw the ball as hard as I could.
Hit. Dead Center. Success.
Splash. Mr. Lassiter dropped into the water and the kids nearby cheered. Except Billy and Cynthia.
“Yeah.” Zach raised his arms in a victory ‘V’.
As Mr. Lassiter climbed out to return to the platform, the water streamed off him. Even worse, the water caused the sunlight to glint off his graying chest hairs. I might have nightmares for weeks.
Mallory danced along the sidelines. “You’ve got one more chance, Angela. Get him again.”
Billy’s hands curled into fists and Cynthia pouted. At least they wouldn’t be able to tease me on Monday.
“Beginner’s luck, Angela. You’ll never get me again.”
“You’re wrong.” I wound up and threw.
Bullseye. Mr. Lassiter raised his hand to plug his nose before going under the water, but didn’t do it fast enough.
I turned and walked back to Mallory, Zach, and Mrs. Chan.
“Sign that girl up for the baseball team. We need someone who can throw.” Mr. Lassiter sounded half-serious.
I couldn’t help myself. I peeked at Billy’s face. He looked like he had a mouthful of prunes. He was supposed to be the baseball star. He took out his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash.
Now he had to try to show me up. Too bad I wasn’t going to stick around and watch him.
