Holly Marshall could barely contain her glee as she raced to open the door for the FedEx guy. She actually let out a childish squeal when she signed for the package and snatched it from his hands. His truck hadn’t even left the driveway before she was ripping through layers of cardboard, tape, and bubble wrap. When her hands touched the smooth cold stone, she shivered with anticipation. She extricated it from its wrappings and held it up to admire it. The ancient Mayan mask smiled back at her, its gleaming, vacant eyes staring at her. She held it to her chest, thrilled that she had finally managed to find the perfect gift for Chris.

She wasn’t bitter about the fact that her husband always seemed to know just what to get her—well, maybe she was. But that was beside the point. She’d noted his recent passion for all things “Ancient Indian” and had run with it. When she’d found the relic on eBay with a $145 “Buy It Now” price, she’d assumed it was a replica. But further inquiry had confirmed that the seller did indeed hold a certificate of authenticity stating that the mask dated back to 6th or 7th century Tikal. In the photographs it seemed in pristine condition, and she could already picture it hanging in a place of honor on Chris’s office wall at the bank. She’d pounced on the screaming deal before anyone else had a chance to figure out the real value of the prize.

Now, clutching it to her chest, she felt a strange sensation, a flicker of dread, but she laughed off the notion and set to work rewrapping the box with Christmas paper. She placed it underneath the tree and artfully rearranged all the red and white packages to resemble a display straight out of a Christmas magazine.

She couldn’t shake the vague feeling of anxiety she’d felt when holding the mask, but she didn’t have time to think about that. Now that her shopping was complete, she needed to photograph the fully decorated living room for her final holiday blog post before taking the next two weeks off to focus on spending time with her family. The kids would be out of school and Chris would be home the Thursday and Friday before Christmas Eve. She still had a party to plan, but she’d taken care of most of the arrangements weeks ago, and only had a few last-minute preparations to see to.

She opened the door to the impeccably organized hall closet to retrieve her camera, and was startled when she heard a crash coming from the living room. Upon returning, she saw that the huge family portrait from the fireplace mantel had inexplicably tumbled to the floor and the glass from the frame lay in tiny shards, strewn across the hardwood floor. Bursting into tears, she headed into the kitchen for the broom and dustpan.

 

*

 

Chris was just wrapping up his last appointment when Carol, his assistant, poked her head in the door. “Need anything, sugar?”

“Uh, no. We’re good here, Carol. Thanks.” She was a real hottie—all blond hair, curves, and legs, but her terms of endearment were starting to set his teeth on edge. He was “Honey,” “Babe,” “Darling,” and now, apparently, “Sugar” far more often than “Chris,” or more appropriately, “Mr. Marshall.” She was outside the boundaries of professionalism, clearly, and he would need to set her straight. Right after Christmas, he promised himself. After all, she’d been a lifesaver to him these past few weeks, working late right alongside him, seeing to his every need. It seemed almost cruel to reprimand her now. No, he’d wait until after the holidays, when business would be slower.

The long hours were beginning to wear on him. That, and the emotional wear and tear of handling cases for so many of his friends and acquaintances. They all came to him for help when they got overextended or just plain couldn’t make ends meet. Especially in the weeks leading up to Christmas. He seemed to be seeing people at their most desperate, and he hated it. He did everything he could to help them all out, sometimes taking risks he knew he shouldn’t. But that was one of the advantages of being the senior loan officer. He was at liberty to make those kinds of decisions.

He was saying his goodbyes to Mr. Wise when he felt the vibration of his cell phone in his pocket. He waited for the other man to round the corner before glancing at it. Three missed calls, all from Holly. Something must be up. He hit the callback button and waited for her to pick up.

“Chris! Oh my God, Chris! It’s S-s-s-snowflake!” she was crying hysterically.

“What? What’s going on, Hol?” the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Snowflake! She got run over!” Holly blurted into his ear.

“Stay put. I’m on my way home.” He grabbed his coat as he reached for the door, hanging up the phone as he did.

“Carol, I’m heading out early today,” he snapped as he passed her desk.

“Something wrong, Sugar?”

“Nothing to worry about. Can you close out everything here?” he begged.

“Sure thing. I’ve got it all under control. See you tomorrow,” she cooed. Her voice followed him to the elevator, grating on his spine, causing him to punch the button harder than ever.

 

*

 

When Chris arrived home, he found his little family all huddled around the body of their miniature poodle. Snowflake appeared to be sleeping, but when he looked closer, he could tell that she had stopped breathing. His six-year-old daughter, Belle, sobbed as she stroked Snowflake’s fur, and his ten-year-old son Nick knelt stoically by her side, patting Belle’s back reassuringly. Holly cried silently, watching her children say their emotional goodbyes to the family pet.

She looked up at Chris, seeing the questions in his eyes. She shook her head slowly and stood up to embrace him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, wrapping her in his arms. He stroked her hair and she wept softly into his shoulder. “What happened, Hol?” “I went out to get the mail and when I opened the door, Snowflake came running out like something was chasing her. She was yelping like she was scared to death, and she just darted out into the road. Some asshole was coming down the street—you know how fast they drive around here––and he just ran right over her. Didn’t even stop. She was already gone when I got to her.” She sobbed the last few words, and Chris hugged her tightly, letting her cry it out.

Later, they held a grim little funeral ceremony in the backyard, burying Snowflake under her favorite tree, then ordered pizza for dinner. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Chris and Holly tucked the kids into bed early, then retired for the night.

“I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like without her around here,” Holly sighed, wearily climbing under the covers. “I mean, I knew she wouldn’t be around forever, but I never thought she’d be gone so soon. It’s so unlike her to take off like that out the front door. I wonder what got into her.”

“There’s no telling. That dog was afraid of her own shadow.”

Chris replied, “But I’m sure going to miss her. She was the first animal that actually liked me.” He switched off the bedside lamp, cloaking their bedroom in darkness. In minutes, they were both dead asleep.

Holly awoke suddenly from a dreamless sleep. What had wakened her? She listened intently in the darkness. There. There it was again. A faint scratching at the door. It couldn’t be. But it sounded just like her! Was her mind playing tricks on her? She heard it again, only this time she could have sworn she heard the high-pitched whine Snowflake used to make when she wanted in.

“Chris!” she whispered loudly, nudging his shoulder. “Chris. Wake up. I heard something!” He groaned and turned on his side, facing the wall away from her.

She heard the scratching again a little louder, and her blood ran cold. Was it possible that they had buried Snowflake alive? But, if that was the case, how had she managed to find her way into the house?

Holly threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, bolting toward the sound. In the split second before she flung open the door, she actually allowed herself to hope that she would see the beloved pet on the other side of it, scratching to come into their room and snuggle in bed with them once more. But when she did open the door, she was greeted with nothing but the darkness of the hallway. Curious, she looked both ways, but again saw nothing. She checked the kids’ rooms, then the bathroom, then finally wandered downstairs. She turned on the living room light, and a few seconds later she heard the faint sounds again. This time the noise seemed to come from the front door. Cautiously, she tiptoed to the door and turned on the porch light. Bracing herself, she opened the door slowly, then breathed a sigh of relief when again, she found nothing.

Shaking her head, she locked up, turned out the light, and headed back upstairs. Just as she reached the top, she heard the sound again, louder and more insistent. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she ran toward her bedroom door. She scrambled back under the covers and turned on the bedside lamp.

Chris stirred. “What’s the matter, Hol?” He yawned.

“I heard something. I-I-I heard Snowflake. She was scratching at our bedroom door, and then the front door. I’m really freaked out right now!” The words tumbled out of her mouth.

Chris pulled her close and snuggled her down beside him. “Wow, you’re really shaking, Babe. Hush now . . . it was just a bad dream. We’ve been through a lot today. Go back to sleep.” He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close, drifting back to his dreams. She knew what she’d experienced hadn’t been a dream, but she let him comfort her and tried to go back to sleep. When she heard the scratching sound again, she began to cry softly, determined not to wake her husband again.

 

*

 

“Kids! Breakfast!” Holly called up the stairs. It was their last day of school before Christmas Break, and they were already running late. She just couldn’t seem to get her act together since Snowflake’s accident, and she hadn’t gotten any sleep the last several nights.

“Oatmeal again?” Belle complained.

“You’ll eat it and be grateful,” Holly chided. “There are children in the world who would love to have a warm breakfast like this one. In fact—”

She was interrupted by a terrible tumbling noise, ending in a thud. She heard Nick cry out in pain and immediately feared the worst. She hurried into the living room to find her son lying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the stairs, his leg jutting out at an unusual angle.

“Oh my God, Nicky! Are you okay?”

“My leg hurts, Mom. It hurts so much!” He was fighting back tears, and her heart melted at the sight of him trying to be a tough guy.

“It’s broken. Listen to me. I want you to stay right here, and I’m going to call an ambulance.” Chris had already left for work, so as soon as she had the ambulance on the way, she dialed his office number, crouching next to Nick and rubbing her hand soothingly on his forehead.

“Chris Marshall’s office. Carol speaking. How may I help you?” came the saccharine-sweet voice of her husband’s assistant.

“Carol! I need to talk to Chris right away!”

“Oh, I’m afraid he’s stepped out. Can I take a message?” Carol oozed insincerity, and it grated on Holly’s already frayed nerves.

“No, thanks. I’ll try his cell.”

“Oh. Oops. I’ve got it right here. He must’ve forgotten it.” The assistant snickered.

“Wow. Okay. Just... tell him to call me as soon as he gets back. Okay? It’s an emergency. As soon as he gets back,” Holly insisted.

“Will do, Sugar,” Carol replied, then hung up the phone. Holly didn’t have time to let the exchange get to her. The ambulance had arrived and she stayed by Nick’s side to offer whatever comfort and reassurance she could while the paramedics carefully lifted him onto the gurney and into the back of the ambulance.

Before the ambulance had even left the driveway, Holly had strapped Belle into her booster seat and cranked the car, ready to follow Nick to the hospital. She tried Chris’s cell, but was directed straight to voicemail. “Hey. It’s me. Nicky fell down the stairs. I think his leg is broken, and we’re headed to the hospital now. Call me as soon as you get this. Or better yet, meet me there.” She hung up and silently prayed that her husband would get the message and come right away. She really needed his strength right now, because she was just about to lose her mind. Why was this happening now? All she’d wanted was a peaceful, relaxing holiday at home with her husband and kids, and now it seemed to all be going to hell in a handbasket.

Back home that afternoon, Holly fought back tears of anger and frustration as she busied herself settling Nick in and making him comfortable. She hadn’t heard from Chris all day, and she’d had to watch her son suffer through the painful procedure of setting the bone and casting the bottom half of his leg over the knee. Thankfully, Diana had come right away to see to Belle, getting her to school and bringing Holly a tall mocha latte back to the hospital.

Diana Ramos was the sweetest, most caring friend Holly could have asked for. She was so warm and open, the eternal earth mother, and Holly knew she could count on Diana if ever she needed her.

Trouble was, Holly wasn’t used to needing anyone. She usually had her life in order and under control, but lately, she couldn’t seem to get it together. In fact, she was afraid she was finally falling apart. Every night since they’d buried the family dog, she’d been hearing sounds like the animal was scratching and whining to get in. When she’d tried to tell Chris about it, he’d been dismissive, saying she was having nightmares or suffering from stress. As a result, she hadn’t told him about the shadows she’d seen dancing on the wall the previous night. She wasn’t even sure how she’d describe what she’d seen. The terrifying figures seemed to be performing some sort of ritual dance, moving in time to a beat she couldn’t hear. She tried to convince herself that there was some logical explanation for what she’d experienced, but in truth, there wasn’t.

Determined to put it all out of her mind, she made Nick his favorite supper of grilled cheese and tomato soup and delivered it to him in bed. She helped him sit up and propped pillows behind his back before placing the tray on his bedside table.

“Mom?” he began.

“Yeah? What is it, son?” she asked brightly.

“I don’t want Belle to get in trouble,” he replied.

“What do you mean, Nicky? Why would Belle be in trouble?”

“Because she pushed me and made me break my leg,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“What? Where did you get an idea like that?”

“I felt it. I was at the top of the stairs, and Belle pushed me. She made me lose my balance, and I fell and broke my leg.” He seemed so sincere, and for a moment Holly wondered if it could be true. But no.

“No, honey. Belle was in the kitchen with me. I was giving her breakfast, and she was giving me grief about having oatmeal again. I was scolding her when I heard you fall down the stairs,” she informed him. Stroking his face, she added, “I think that pain medicine they gave you might have made you a little loopy.” She winked at him and chuckled, but noticed that the color had drained from his face.

“Mom!” he whispered intensely, “Something pushed me! It had to be her! She had to be there! Something pushed me!” he was trembling, and his panic-stricken face twisted with frightened tears. He was petrified, and when Holly pulled him into her embrace, he sat stiffly against her, his breath short and ragged, not responding to her attempts at soothing him.

“Oh, honey. It’s okay. Shhh. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It was just an accident. You must have tripped. No one pushed you. It was just an accident,” Holly cooed.

Nick pushed back to look at his mom. His eyes were as big as saucers. “I saw something,” he choked. “Something in my room. Last night. I was scared, but I didn’t think it was real. But what if it was real, Mom? What if it was real and it pushed me and it made me hurt myself? Mom, what if it was real?”

“What did you see, Nick? Tell me exactly what you saw,” she whispered softly.

“I don’t know what it was. It was a shadow or something dark. There were more than one. They were dancing. I couldn’t hear the music, but they were dancing. I didn’t think they could be real, but what if they were? If Belle didn’t push me, it might have been them.” His voice rose with panic again, and Holly pulled him in tight, rocking him and stroking his hair reassuringly.

“Hush, now. You’re alright. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Mommy’s here,” she whispered over and over until he finally began to calm down. “I want you to try and rest. Lie back and close your eyes. I’ll be right here.”

She tucked him in again and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. She tried to mask her concern for Nick’s sake, but every cell in her body was on high alert. Her son was experiencing the same things she’d been experiencing, and now it seemed he’d been hurt as a result of it. She had to do something, but what? What did people do when their nightmares became real? Where did you turn in a situation like that? And where the hell was her husband? He should be here, helping her, helping Nicky.

 

*

 

Holly trudged downstairs, exhausted. Nicky had finally gotten to sleep, thanks to the combination of painkillers he’d been prescribed and her reading a few of the Christmas story books she’d brought down from the attic a week ago. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to ease Nick’s mind about what had really caused him to fall down the stairs, and he hadn’t wanted to fall asleep for fear of having more of the strange nightmares he’d experienced the night before. It broke her heart to see him suffer.

She needed tea. Sweet, hot, chamomile tea to help calm her nerves and make her feel normal again. Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard what sounded like a drum beat—faint, low, and steady. “Damn kids,” she thought, moving to the living room window to spot the car from which she believed the sound was coming. When she neared the living room, the sound grew louder, but she saw no sign of a car. She shook her head, willing the sound away, but it only came stronger. Then she saw headlights turning into the drive. Chris! Finally!

She rushed to the door, a swirl of emotions running through her mind. Where had he been? Why hadn’t he called? Was he okay? Had something terrible happened to him too? She felt relief mixed with fear and frustration as she flung open the door to greet her husband.

“Where have you been?” she cried, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tightly.

“I told you. We had the company Christmas party tonight,” he replied, puzzled.

“You’ve been at a party? All this time? Why didn’t you come home when you got my messages?” she asked in disbelief. “What are you talking about? What messages?”

“I left a message with your secretary and on your cell. Nicky fell down the stairs today. He broke his leg!” she countered.

“What? Is he okay?” Chris made for the stairs, but Holly grabbed his arm to stop him.

“He’s all right. I finally got him to sleep a little while ago. Chris, what happened to you? Why didn’t you call me back?” she pleaded.

He ran his hand through his hair, shock on his face as he glanced up the stairs. “It was a slow day, so Mr. White took a bunch of us in the loan department out for an early lunch. We wound up at this little karaoke bar and had a few drinks.”

“Why didn’t you answer your cell?” she asked again.

“I gave it to Carol this morning. She needed to get some contacts from it. I guess we both forgot she had it. It must still be on her desk.”

“Carol, huh? What’s going on there, Chris? I left a message with her this morning right after the accident. I told her to have you call me right away, and she said she would. Did she even tell you about it?” Holly’s voice rose now as rage boiled up inside her. How dare that little blond bitch keep her husband from her!

“She never mentioned, it, no,” he replied, deflated. “I really want to see Nicky for myself. I’m just going to poke my head in the door and check on him. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t wake him up!” she snapped.

Exasperated, Chris climbed the stairs two at a time. Holly watched him go, hearing the drums beat louder now. Her anger at Chris, at the whole situation, grew stronger with each beat of the drum. She no longer cared where it was coming from. She paced in time to the sound, waiting for her husband to return so she could rip into him. He was going to hear about this. And she was not going to allow him to patronize her. He needed to know what had been going on, and he needed to help her get to the bottom of it.

Chris descended the stairs, his shoulders slumped, his eyes red-rimmed. Seeing their son in a leg cast had shaken him, and he was kicking himself for having not been there. For kicking up his heels at the bar, and, later, back at the office during the Christmas party.

“Where’s Belle?” he asked when he rejoined Holly in the living room. “And where’s that beating coming from?”

“With Diana, to the first question, and I don’t know to the second,” she bit back. “What the hell, Chris? You just party with your secretary all day. You don’t check in, even once, and she doesn’t bother giving you an important message from your WIFE? And you’re okay with that? Because I’m not!”

“No, I’m not okay—” he began.

“There’s something else. You know I told you that some really weird things were happening ever since Snowflake died. Like me hearing her trying to get in. And seeing shadows on the wall. Well, Nicky’s been seeing them too.” The words tumbled out of her. She barely registered Chris’s dumbfounded expression as she continued. “He thought Belle pushed him down the stairs this morning. I told him it couldn’t have been Belle. She was right there with me, in the kitchen, when it happened. When I told him that, he freaked out! He started telling me about the shadows and how it must have been them who pushed him. No matter what I said, he insists he was pushed. Something is going on, Chris. Something awful, and you’re off partying with your stupid secretary!” she finished on a high-pitched shriek.

“Whoa. Wait a minute. First of all, I had no idea all this was going on today. If I had, you know I’d have been right here. Second, there is nothing going on with Carol and me. She might be a little flirty, but I promise you, I have not encouraged her to be that way.” He noted his wife rolling her eyes. It pissed him off, frankly, but he reminded himself of all the stress she must have been through today, for the past week, really, and he tried to exercise his patience.

“There must be some reason why she thinks It’s okay to not give you my messages,” she accused.

“Dammit, Holly, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know why she didn’t give me your message. And I don’t know what’s going on with you and Nicky. He probably overheard you telling me about your nightmare and got scared too. I don’t know. But I do know I don’t deserve this. I don’t need to be interrogated in my own home. I’m tired. It’s been a long day for both of us. Why don’t we just go to bed and talk about this tomorrow?” He reached out a hand to her, beckoning her to follow him upstairs. She hesitated, but in the end she took his hand. She was still fuming inside, but what was the point in hammering on him now? They’d figure it all out tomorrow.

“Wish those kids would knock it off with the drums,” he mumbled, climbing the stairs. She agreed, though the sound seemed to be fading away.

*

 

Holly drifted into a fretful sleep, the worries of the day still heavy on her mind. She’d been so angry at Chris—to the point of rage, and she was having a hard time processing it. They never fought. That was one of the things that all their friends admired about them as a couple. It was so unlike her to just see red like that, but if she was being honest with herself, she was still more than a little miffed. She couldn’t believe he’d been so dismissive about hers and Nick’s nighttime terrors, or that he’d suggested it was her fault that Nick was having these experiences. She’d been very careful not to mention anything in front of either of the kids, and she knew in her heart that it hadn’t been because of her influence. All these thoughts and emotions haunted her dreams, and she tossed and turned until something suddenly woke her.

She lay still in the darkness, listening for whatever it was that had startled her awake. She heard the sound of drums the same as before, but there was something else. A shriek or howl of some sort that seemed to be coming from downstairs.

“Chris! Chris!” she hissed. “Wake up. Do you hear that?” “Hmm?” he stirred slowly, opening his eyes. “There’s those drums again. I’m gonna call the cops. They’re disturbing the peace.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, but the next sound he heard stopped him dead in his tracks.

The shrieking sound came again, louder this time, accompanied by an inhuman growl and the slamming of a door downstairs. Something was in the house! Realizing this, they both jumped out of bed. Chris grabbed the baseball bat he kept under his side of the bed, and Holly threw on her robe. Before they could even move toward the bedroom door, they heard another door slam downstairs, and then a clawing, thudding sound that traveled up the stairs. Holly screamed and bolted for the door. All she could think of was Nick, alone and vulnerable in his room with some monster pressing down on him, intent on doing God only knew what.

“Holly! Stop!” Chris reached for her, stepping in front of her with the bat. He flung open the door, and she darted behind him running for Nick’s bedroom door. Chris stepped behind her, turning his back to her and toward—whatever it was. He followed her, backing toward her and Nick, the baseball bat poised and ready to do damage to the unknown person or creature that had invaded their home. As she opened Nick’s door, Holly turned to glance over her shoulder. Seeing the gigantic shadow beast bearing down on them, she grabbed Chris’s arm and dragged him into the room with her, slamming the door shut behind them. They heard the loud thud and felt the impact of a body crashing into the door. There was a high-pitched howl and then silence.

Breathlessly, both of them looked at Nick and were astounded to see that he was sound asleep. His expression was peaceful in his dreams, and it seemed as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

“Did you see that?” Holly whispered, her expression one of sheer terror.

“What the hell was it?” Chris replied, gripping the bat so hard his knuckles were white.

“I don’t know. Is it gone?”

Chris took a moment to catch his breath, then slowly opened the door to the hallway, peeking out through the narrow space. He saw nothing and heard nothing, not even the drums from before. Opening the door slightly wider, he carefully stepped out into the hall, looking both ways as he moved. There was nothing there.

Holly followed, silently pulling the door shut behind her. Her mind jumbled with a million dark thoughts, and she trembled from head to toe with the fear and adrenaline pumping through her body. She had to do something. Had to put a stop to whatever it was that was happening to her family. An idea began to form in the back of her head, fuzzy in the murky fog that was her present state of mind.

The mask.

All this chaos seemed to have started when she’d brought that mask into the house.

 

*

 

She grabbed Chris by the hand and led him downstairs to the living room. She clicked on the overhead light. Everything looked just as it always did—normal, peaceful even. Driven by terrible curiosity, she reached for the gift she’d so carefully placed beneath the tree just a few days ago.

“I think it’s this! All these terrible things ... they started when I brought this into the house!” she said.

Chris took the box, a stunned expression on his face. He wasn’t thinking clearly, the fright from moments before still fresh in his mind. He tore into the paper without even noticing what he was doing, scanning the room, reassuring himself that his little family was in no immediate danger.

When finally he opened the box and pulled out the mask, Holly could no longer contain the anxiety she’d felt from the start. “Oh my God, oh my God! It’s this mask! Look at the expression! It wasn’t like that when I got it, Chris, I swear. It was smiling.” The mask now held a grotesque snarl where before its eyes had seemed vacant, its smile vague. The expression now was one of menace, its cruel purpose clear in the intense stare it aimed at whomever held it. Holly shivered, disbelief and terror coursing through her mind.

“It’s incredible! Where did you get it?” Chris seemed enamored with the object. It was just the reaction Holly had hoped for when she’d clicked “Buy It Now,” but it rang hollow in her ears now.

“I bought it on eBay.” Realization dawned. “That’s it! I’ve got to find that seller. Maybe he can tell us more about this thing and why it’s … haunting us, I guess,” she rambled.

“Hmm,” was the only reply she got from Chris. He seemed taken with the relic, so she left him to look it over while she hunted down the seller. She fired up the laptop and logged on to her eBay account.

She clicked to view her recent purchases, and there it was: a photo of the mask as she’d purchased it, vacant smile and all. Oddly, the seller’s name was grayed out, and she couldn’t click his name. Puzzled, she pulled up the advance search and entered in his seller ID. “The seller User ID you entered was not found,” the search returned. And that was it. Just like that, the mystery man from whom she’d bought this curse was gone for good.

 

*

 

When Diana drove up the next morning with Belle in the car, Holly couldn’t hide her relief at seeing her younger child happy and whole, nor her fatigue from lack of sleep from the night before. Still, she politely invited Diana in for a cup of coffee, and, sensing that something was very wrong with her friend, Diana accepted.

“Can I be honest, Hol? You look like hell. How’s Nick doing?” The concern was evident in her voice. Diana mothered everyone, and she had taken Holly’s little family under her wing soon after they had met at a coffee shop.

“He’s okay. He was a little shaken up about what happened, but he rested well last night—which is really weird. And this morning he’s been trying out his crutches. Doctor said he should heal completely.” She tried to force a smile, but Diana could see right through it.

“What’s up, Holly? Your eyes are bloodshot, and I’m not buying that everything is hunky dory. Did you and Chris get into a fight or something?”

 

“No! Well, yes, but I think we’re past that. No, it’s something else. If I tell you, you’ll think I’m crazy,” Holly responded, debating whether or not to share the whole story with her friend.

“Try me.” Diana pulled her coffee cup closer and folded her arms on the counter, all ears.

“Well... it started a week or so ago. I bought this mask to give Chris—he’s so hard to buy for, and he always gets me the most thoughtful gifts.” She was stalling, but Diana was rooted to the spot, determined to hear her out. “As soon as it came into the house, strange things started to happen. One of our family portraits fell off the wall and shattered. It was really heavy, and it was anchored to the wall. I can’t explain how that could happen. And then, you know, Snowflake got run over?”

Diana nodded.

“Well, that night, I heard her. She was scratching on the door and whining to get in. But when I looked, there was nothing there. And I’ve been having these dreams—nightmares, really. Or maybe it’s really happening. I saw shadows dancing on the wall. Shaped like people, five or six of them. Dancing this wild, crazy, I don’t know... tribal... dance.”

“Wow, seriously disturbing, girl. But you know, sometimes stress can do funny things to us. It can mess with your mind. And you’ve been really stressed lately!” Diana encouraged.

“Right. And I thought that myself. But then Nick fell down the stairs and broke his leg. Which was bad enough, but yesterday when we got home, he told me someone pushed him. I tried to tell him no one could’ve done that—Belle was here with me—but I couldn’t change his mind. He’s convinced he was pushed. And... he told me he’s been seeing the shadow dancers too. The way he described them sounded just like what I’ve been seeing. And the worst thing happened last night. Chris and I both heard and saw it. It was a shadow too, I think. Only it was more like a giant dog, and it chased us down the hall to Nicky’s room. Neither one of us got a wink of sleep after that,” she finished, taking a long sip of her coffee.

Diana was stunned. “That. Wow. I don’t know what to say. You think it started when you bought this mask? What kind of mask is it?”

“It’s an old, old Mayan mask. I found it on eBay for next to nothing. The last few months Chris has been obsessed with ancient Indian cultures, so I thought it would be perfect for him for Christmas. When I put two and two together, it must be the cause of all this chaos. I tried to find the guy who sold it to me, but it’s like he’s vanished into thin air. There’s no profile for him on eBay anymore and no contact information. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything about curses, but I think that’s really what we’re up against. I just don’t know what to do,” she repeated.

“Let’s see this mystery mask,” Diana said, curiosity radiating out of her.

Holly led her into the living room, where Chris was again admiring the mask, staring at it with a faraway look in his eye. Diana leaned over his shoulder to examine the relic for herself. Her eyebrows knit together and a scowl darkened her countenance. She motioned for Holly to rejoin her in the kitchen.

“Okay, that thing is seriously spooky. I don’t like the vibe I get from it,” she said in a low voice, once she and Holly were alone.

“Me either. But Chris won’t stop staring at it. I think he likes it, but it totally creeps me out, and I really think it’s cursed. What do I do?”

“I just might be able to help. I know some people who may know some people,” Diana offered.

“Yeah, that’s right. You do dabble with the occult.”

Diana chuckled. “I don’t dabble, darling. I’m a witch. Wiccan. I don’t do curses or any sort of dark magic. But like I said, I know some people who know worlds more about this stuff than I’ll ever know, and it could be that they can help us find some answers.” With that, she drained her cup and stepped around the counter to embrace Holly in one of her warm hugs. “Cheer up, Buttercup. It’s going to be all right.”

Holly smiled gratefully and saw her friend to the door.

“Oh, and Holly?” Diana turned back just as she was leaving. “Don’t touch that thing. I don’t like the way Chris seems so entranced by it. Just try to stay away from it until we can find out more.”

 

*

 

Turning to go back into her home, Holly felt a sense of relief. At last, someone was on her side, and that someone was Diana Ramos, a force to be reckoned with. She’d find an answer to this problem or die trying, and it warmed Holly’s heart to know this woman was in her corner. She could relax and focus on taking care of her family.

She walked into the living room and was alarmed to see that Belle was sitting next to Chris on the sofa, her little hands running all over the surface of that awful mask. Diana had warned her not to touch it, so she was certain she didn’t want her daughter anywhere near it. Her first instinct was to scold Belle and send her upstairs, but instead she picked up the shipping box she’d set aside the night before and walked over to the sofa.

“Honey? Why don’t you drop your mask back into the box,” she said with a calmness she didn’t really feel.

“That’s okay. I’m not done looking at it. It’s amazing!” her husband replied.

“Please? I want to rewrap it and put it back under the tree. Come on, now. You need something to open on Christmas morning,” she pleaded.

He looked up at her, frowning, but did as she asked and dropped the mask back into the box. She quickly folded the flaps in, being careful not to allow the relic to come into contact with her skin.

“Belle, you can help me. Why don’t you go grab a roll of wrapping paper?” she chirped, a little too brightly.

“‘Kay. What color, Mommy? The red or the white?” Belle hopped off the couch to do as her mom asked.

“Doesn’t matter, baby. Whichever you like best,” she responded. Surprised by her mom’s uncharacteristic flexibility, Belle took off upstairs.

That evening Diana returned with a bundle of sage. She asked Holly for permission to do a ritual she called “smudging,” which she said would protect the family from evil spirits. Holly agreed, and Diana lit the bundle, wafting the smoke around all the rooms of the home. Afterward, Holly felt a sense of well-being return, and for the first time in many days, she began to hope that this strange ordeal would soon be over.

She tucked the kids in early, reading each of them one of their favorite Christmas books. She then headed to bed herself, confident that she would be getting a good night’s sleep for a change.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Around 1:00 A.M.., she awoke again to a bizarre sound. It sounded like children’s voices humming or singing. Panicking, she got out of bed and threw on her robe. She opened the door and listened for the sound. She heard it again, louder this time. It seemed to come from Belle’s room, and the knowledge made her blood run cold.

She flung open Belle’s door, dreading the worst, and yelped when she saw her daughter. She was standing in the corner of the room between the window and her closet. Beside her was a shadow figure, not much taller than Nicky, and the two of them were chanting something in an eerie singsong voice.

Chris appeared in the doorway, startling her, and she screamed again. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she listened closely to hear what her daughter and the ghost figure were saying.

“It’s not going away,” Belle sang, staring straight through her mother.

“What? What is it, sweetie? What’s not going away?” Holly whispered. Her legs felt like wood and she couldn’t move.

“It’s not going away. You can’t make it go away. It’s not going away. You can’t make it go away,” her daughter continued to chant.

Then Chris joined the chanting, and with lead in her stomach, Holly knew what they were telling her. What the mask was telling her. It, along with its curse, was here to stay, and she was helpless to do anything about it. The smudging hadn’t worked. Nothing would work. The thought both terrified and infuriated her.

She ran to Chris and grabbed him by the shoulders. Shaking him, she cried, “Chris, wake up! Snap out of it!”

“We’re not going away. You can’t make us go away,” her husband responded.

Holly shrieked and, without thinking, slapped her husband’s handsome face. He blinked, and instinctively, she slapped him again. “What the hell, Hol?” he shouted.

Immediately the chanting stopped and the figure by the window disappeared. Chris’s eyes grew wide with fear. Holly grabbed his hand and pulled him to Belle’s side. Their daughter’s eyes filled with tears and she flung her little body into her parents’ arms, sobbing hysterically.

“It’s okay, honey. You’re okay. You’re okay,” Holly murmured into her hair. Chris lifted their daughter up and carried her back to their room to spend the rest of the night. When finally she calmed enough to go back to sleep, the couple moved to the window seat to talk.

“You really scared me, Chris. What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how I wound up in Belle’s room. All I remember is hearing those damn drums in my dreams. I think I was having a nightmare. The next thing I knew, you were hitting me,” her husband replied, clearly shaken by the experience.

“It’s the mask, Chris. It must carry some sort of curse. Diana’s looking into it, but we’ve got to do something about the kids. They can’t be here with this going on.”

“You’re right. I’ll call my mom in the morning. I’m sure she’d love to have the kids come stay with her for a few days before Christmas. She’ll spoil them rotten.”

“I really hate to send them away. I had so many things planned to do with them over the break. Are you sure she’ll be okay taking care of Nick?” She couldn’t see any way around it, and hoped Chris’s parents would be up to the task of caring for the kids until they could figure this whole thing out.

“They’ll be fine. I’ll call in the morning,” he repeated. “Let’s get some shut-eye.

It tore Holly’s heart to pieces, watching her kids get into their grandma’s van, especially Nick, who tried hard to look tough and brave with his crutches. She hugged each of her children a little longer than necessary, and profusely thanked Chris’s mother, Mary. Chris had told her he and Holly wanted a few days to themselves to finalize their Christmas shopping and party preparations, and Mary had been more than happy to accommodate them.

The house felt incredibly empty after they left, and Holly couldn’t help feeling a little bit sorry for herself. Chris spent the afternoon with his buddies at the country club, so she had plenty of time alone to process all she’d been through. She hadn’t heard from Diana yet, and she wondered if her friend would truly be able to dig up a solution to this terrible predicament she found herself in. She sure as hell didn’t know what to do about it.

 

*

 

In fact, she didn’t hear from Diana for three more days. During that time, the drums and shadows continued to haunt her at night. Chris was barely speaking to her. She could only guess that the anger and confusion between them was a side effect of the curse, and she desperately needed things to return to normal.

When Diana finally called with news, Holly was barely hanging onto her sanity. She’d thought of destroying the mask, but some instinct kept her waiting—impatiently—for answers that may or may not come. Diana phoned on Wednesday afternoon to say that Fred at The Wiccan Way shop had a lead for her. He had connections through a few Internet forums, and had put out the word about the mysterious Mayan mask and the strange happenings surrounding it. There was no response at first, until finally, one woman had made contact saying that she knew of a medicine man from Guatemala that might have information that could help. This woman had given Fred the man’s telephone number, and he had passed it along to Diana.

Exhausted, Holly hung up from Diana, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. She took a few deep breaths and gathered her courage. She sat down to call the man, praying that he could tell her how to end this curse once and for all. She was grateful the man even had a phone, living in Guatemala.

He picked up after just two rings. “Mr. Zacapa?” she queried.

“Yes?” came a distant, frail male voice.

“Mr. Zacapa! My name is Holly Marshall. I’m calling about a mask. Fred Bailey told me to call you. I’m having a big problem, and I need some help. Can you tell me what you know?”

 

“Slow down,” Diego Zacapa replied. “My English … not so good. First, tell me. What this mask look like?”

Holly described the mask, being mindful to slow her speech and enunciate carefully. The man listened, interjecting “si, si” once or twice, until Holly had told him everything.

“Yes. I know this mask. This mask cursed,” he began.

“I knew it. Can you tell me more?” she breathed. “I appreciate any information you can give me—especially how to break this curse off of my family.”

“Ah. Is not easy. This mask very, very old. Made by ancient artisan. One of my ancestors. He lived in little village. One day, my ancestor saw a vision. He saw many bad things to come. He told the village chief about this vision. Chief did not believe. He told others too. Chief did not like this. He wanted to sacrifice the artisan.”

“Oh no! I didn’t realize they—I mean—your people practiced human sacrifice!” Holly exclaimed.

“Not much. Only when necessary,” Chief said. “If war is coming, we must sacrifice to war god. So my ancestor was chosen to sacrifice. He prayed to Buluc Chabtan, god of war. The god heard his prayer and curse mask, which artisan gave to chief to spare his life. Mask brought many troubles to village. Many people died, but not chief. He gave mask as gift to another chief. This chief’s village suffered too, until they give mask away. And so it went for many years. One day mask disappeared. It was found again three years ago in cave in Honduras. In cave, with it, are bones of many men, women, and children.”

Holly gasped. Why hadn’t she researched this gift more carefully before hitting that “Buy It Now” button? “So, Mr. Zacapa, are you saying there is no way to break the curse?”

“There is one way. One way only. You must give mask to another. Your troubles end, but for other … they begin,” he replied. She couldn’t help but note the sadness in his voice.

“Why couldn’t I just destroy it? Wouldn’t that break the curse?”

“Oh, no. No. If you break mask, curse stays with your family forever,” he informed her. “I am sorry this trouble come to you. Now you must decide. Is not easy,” he repeated.

After hanging up with the old man, Holly slumped to the floor.

How in the world could she knowingly and willingly pass along this evil to someone else? She melted into tears feeling very much trapped between a rock and a hard place.

 

*

 

When Friday evening rolled around, Holly’s nerves were frazzled beyond repair. She’d pleaded with Chris to cancel the party, but he would hear nothing of it. She’d even reminded him that the spirits haunting them might decide to make an appearance for their guests, but he insisted that they go forward with the party as planned.

Ordinarily, Holly was the ultimate hostess. She thought of everything, and her guests never wanted for anything. She had done the lion’s share of the party planning weeks ago, but there were always last minute details to see to. Between lack of sleep and worry over her moral dilemma, Holly couldn’t concentrate on any of that, and she worried that she would disappoint their attendees. At the last minute, she had given in and hired a caterer at an exorbitant price and left the final bits and pieces up to the catering staff. All that was left for her to do was to sip a few pre-party cocktails to try and calm her jangled nerves.

By the time the guests arrived, she was into her third cup of liberally laced eggnog and beginning to relax. She welcomed their neighbors, friends, and Chris’s coworkers with her usual warmth and poise, and the party was soon well underway. She circulated among the guests and kept an eye on their drinks and hors d’oeuvres, seeing that both were well supplied. I’ll be damned, she thought. That caterer was worth every penny. She knocked back another cup of eggnog and grinned, satisfied that no one seemed to have noticed that she and Chris were barely speaking to one another. Almost no one, as it turned out.

As the evening drew to a close, she wandered into the kitchen to check in with the staff and see how supplies were holding out. When one of the girls asked where to take out the trash, she cheerfully offered to do it herself. She needed a breath of fresh air, anyway, and she made quick work of it.

Stepping out into the night, she heard the sound of women’s voices around the corner on the patio. She thought it unusual for anyone to be spending time out in the chill, but was prepared to dismiss it until she heard one of the women speak her husband’s name.

“I think Chris is getting really sick of dealing with her. She’s been so clingy lately. So the dog died and the kid broke his leg? Woman up and deal with it! The kid’s leg will heal, and they can get another dog. No big deal.” It was Carol’s voice. Holly would know it anywhere. She’d come to loathe it in recent days.

“I don’t know. That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think? Either one of those things is terrible, but having both of them happen at the same time, and right before Christmas . . . I’d be stressed too. Maybe Chris should cut her some slack.” Holly didn’t recognize the second voice, but she appreciated the woman’s words nonetheless.

“I’m just saying. If he were my husband, he’d never have to worry about any of that. I’d keep him happy every day, in every way, if you know what I mean.” Carol’s voice began to fade as the women headed back inside through the back door.

Enraged, Holly flung the trash bag into the dumpster and stalked back inside. She made her way into the living room and found that people had begun collecting their coats and saying happy goodbyes. The party had been a success in spite of all their troubles, and inwardly Holly congratulated herself on pulling off what had seemed impossible only a day ago.

She plastered on a smile and exchanged Christmas wishes with the exiting party-goers. Still fuming, she couldn’t wait for Carol’s turn. She was really going to give the woman a piece of her mind! Chris stood beside her, oblivious to the drama about to unfold, yet still icy cold toward her. But Carol hung back, obviously trying to be the last to leave. That was fine with Holly, who never liked to make a scene.

Then, as the last group of people parted, Carol made her way toward the door, smiling coquettishly at Chris. Impulsively, Holly leapt in front of her, and, not even knowing what came over her, she spoke sweetly to the other woman. “Carol! Before you go, Chris and I wanted to give you a little something just to say how much we appreciate your help all year long.” She reached beneath the tree and grabbed the box. Turning to hand it to his assistant, she noticed Chris’s eyes grow as large as saucers. He shook his head frantically, but she calmly looked into the other woman’s eyes. “We hope you like this small token of our gratitude. Merry Christmas!”

“Thank you. And Merry Christmas to you, too, Hol— Mrs. Marshall. Mr. Marshall,” Carol sputtered. She took the gift and quickly headed out the door.

As the final strains of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas drifted out of the sound system, Chris and Holly stood arm in arm in the doorway, waving goodbye to their friends, and more importantly, to the curse that had nearly destroyed their family.

“There goes your Christmas gift,” Holly said. “From now on, you’re getting a subscription to the cheese-of-the-month club,” she joked.

“I love cheese,” Chris said. “And I love you. Let’s go get the kids first thing tomorrow.” And with that, they closed the door and, feeling lighter than air, they headed for bed where they slept peacefully through the silent night.