CHAPTER TEN

 

 

The big showdown came two days later, when Sarah finally persuaded Johnny to confide his worries to her. Johnny had received his last pay envelope in the mail. It wasn't very much money, but it reminded him of the job he had lost, and thinking about Miss Ferrington's accusations depressed him. When Sarah telephoned to chat, Johnny admitted he was unhappy.

Sarah listened with sympathy and then suggested that he teach her how to play chess, something they had talked about before. Maybe it would take Johnny's mind off his troubles for a little while. He didn't really think it would, but then it might be sort of cheerful to play again. He and Fergie always played hard-fought, interesting games of chess, and the professor was usually a good opponent. But with Fergie away and the professor preoccupied, Johnny hadn't touched his chessboard in weeks.

He met Sarah at the public library, and they set up Johnny's chessboard in the Conversation Room on the first floor. Quiet talking was allowed there, and lots of people met there to play chess or checkers. Sometimes spectators even collected in small audiences to watch games and debate each move in whispers. Johnny was glad to see no one was there, because he felt self- conscious about playing chess in front of people. He arranged the pieces on the board. Sarah watched as Johnny explained how each chess piece could move, and then she moved them herself, making sure she understood.

Next Johnny explained what a gambit was—a series of beginning chess moves that could be developed into an attack or a defense. There were lots of standard openings, but they would begin with very simple ones. Then he hid a couple of pawns in his hands, and she chose the hand that held the white one. "Okay," he said. "White always moves first. Now, the first time you move a pawn, it can go either one or two squares. I'd start with the one in front of the queen or the king."

And then as they moved the chessmen, Sarah started in again, asking about Mattheus Mergal and what he had to do with the storm in the park. "I didn't see him, but he really gave you the creeps, didn't he?" she asked.

Trying not to show either annoyance or anxiety, Johnny kept his gaze on the board. "Yeah, I guess he did. He's a peculiar guy."

Sarah stared over the chess pieces, frowning at him. "Weird how? Does he run through the streets in his underwear, playing a banjo and singing 'Hail, Columbia'? Does he turn into a werewolf when the wolfsbane blooms, and the moon is shining bright?"

"Let's just play chess, okay?" Johnny did not feel like talking about Mattheus Mergal. For one thing, he was a mystery, and Johnny did not know all that much. Then too, Johnny had a bad feeling that no matter what he said, Sarah would misunderstand.

But Sarah would not let the matter drop. As they moved their chess pieces, she kept asking questions, and she refused to let Johnny get away with shrugging them off. Little by little she wore down Johnny's reluctance.

Finally Johnny sighed and dropped his voice to a whisper, "Okay, okay, but you'll never believe me." He took a deep breath. "It all goes back to the witch things." He told her about Esdrias Blackleach. Then he said, "I think Mr. Mergal wants to get all of Blackleach's magical stuff so he can cast spells too. He must have been the one who broke into the professor's house and later stole all the Blackleach pieces from the museum. He got me fired, and I think he tried to kill the professor with that magic lightning in the park."

Sarah frowned at him for a few moments. Then she grinned, her eyes crinkling. She chuckled, in the way that people do when they think something funny is about to happen. "What's the joke, Dixon?" she asked.

Johnny scowled at her. "I knew you wouldn't believe me," he muttered.

"Well, who in the world would?" demanded Sarah, irritation flashing in her eyes. "You are kidding, aren't you? I mean, about magic."

How could he tell her about the things he had seen, about zombies and ghosts and trolleys that could go back in time? Sarah had never encountered the sort of bizarre people who seemed to be attracted to Duston Heights like iron to a magnet. "Just forget it," said Johnny wearily.

Sarah moved her knight. It was a bad move, opening up her queen to a bishop attack. She glanced back at him and seemed surprised at his bitter expression. "Oh, come on, Dixon. Nobody believes in wizards and witches and that kinda stuff." She sounded like a big sister talking to a six-year-old brat of a little brother. "Is this Mergal guy just plain nuts?"

Johnny ignored the chance to take Sarah's queen. "I guess he is. He thinks Blackleach was a real magician, and he wants to be a magician too. We know there's no such thing as magic, so let's just forget about him, okay?"

Sarah gave him a quizzical glance. "This really bothers you. Okay, Dixon, convince me. Why do you think Blackleach's snow globe and the other little toys have spooky power? What makes you think Mergal has malicious magic on his mind?"

"I told you I saw him at the park," insisted Johnny. His voice had risen and it almost squeaked. He made an effort to speak more softly. "He was holdin' some kind of long staff, and he raised it up to point at the sky, and then he struck the ground with it. And right after that, those weird clouds came boiling up out of nowhere and the lightning began."

"But thunderstorms happen in the summer," Sarah objected. "That one could've just been a coincidence."

"Witches are supposed to be able to raise storms," insisted Johnny.

"Oh, Dixon, I don't believe in witches. And I didn't see Mergal do any funny business with a staff. Maybe you just imagined you saw him—"

Johnny glared at her. "I'm sorry I told you anything. Just forget it."

"But—"

With a quick, spiteful movement Johnny swept his bishop diagonally across the board and took Sarah's queen. "There! You didn't watch what you were doing, and I captured your most important piece. Are you going to concentrate now?"

"That was mean!"

Johnny gave her a crabby look. "I think you're pretty mean to say I'm crazy 'cause I think that Mergal is trying to do witchcraft. Maybe it doesn't really work, maybe he's off his rocker, but that doesn't mean I am."

Sarah looked angry. "If you're gonna be that way, Johnny Dixon, I don't want to play this stupid game anymore."

Johnny felt like yelling, but he kept his voice quiet. "It's not a stupid game just because you're too dumb to learn how to play it!"

Sarah glowered at him. Then she got up and stalked out of the Conversation Room. Angry at himself, Johnny folded the board and packed it and the chess pieces back in the box. He trudged back to Fillmore Street with the dejected sense that he had just lost a friend. He spent the rest of the day in his room, trying to read and listening to his old Motorola radio. That night he thought long and hard about everything that had happened. If only there was some way of catching Mr. Mergal in the act, or finding some of the loot from the museum in his possession!

But he had no idea of how to do that. If Fergie were here, he thought, he'd know what to do. Even if he didn't believe Mergal was an evil magician, Fergie would come up with some plan to discover exactly what mischief he was trying to pull. Unfortunately, Fergie was still hundreds of miles away, and Johnny didn't have his friend's willingness to take chances. He wished he were braver and older. He wished he could live up to Professor Childermass' idea of him—the professor always treated Johnny like a sensible adult, not a child. But surrounded by a troublesome cloud of doubts and regrets, Johnny felt very childlike indeed.

 

Professor Childermass sympathized with Johnny, but he couldn't offer much help. "After all," he said, "you wouldn't want to involve Sarah in anything dangerous, would you? And if jolly old Mr. Mergal really is trying to gain control of evil magical powers, he could be pretty dangerous." The two of them sat in the professor's kitchen, waiting for a pan of dark-chocolate walnut fudge to harden. It was the day after Sarah and Johnny had quarrelled in the public library. Although he hadn't said a word about the fight to Gramma or Grampa, Johnny had told the professor everything. The old man was his good friend, and sometimes it's easier to talk about certain things to friends.

Johnny was sipping a tall, cool glass of milk, and the professor was drinking a steaming cup of coffee. His eyes glittered shrewdly behind his gold-rimmed glasses as he said, "You know, John, maybe it's better that you and Sarah stay away from each other for a few days. I expect that if you give it time, she'll decide that you both were a little too hasty."

"I didn't want to hurt her feelings," admitted Johnny. "But I don't think she'll be my friend again. She thinks I'm cranky and maybe crazy too."

"She does, does she?" asked Professor Childermass, looking concerned. "You might have a problem there. Of course, I don't mind the good citizens of Duston Heights thinking I'm cranky. In fact, I rather enjoy it, because it keeps a lot of irritating, obnoxious people away. But at your age you shouldn't have that kind of reputation. John, I'll tell you what: When this is over, I'll invite Sarah and you to another picnic and we'll smooth things over. After all, they say time heals all wounds."

"I hope it does," replied Johnny. "Sarah was kind of a special friend."

"Your first girlfriend?" asked the professor.

"No!" Johnny frowned. "I mean, she's a girl and she's my friend, but that's all."

"I hope all this will be over in a week or two," said the professor. He got up and took the fudge from the pan. "Here, sample this."

The candy was creamy and delicious, and Johnny nodded to show that it was a success. He swallowed and said, "What do you mean, you hope it's gonna be over in a week or two? What are you planning, Professor?"

But Professor Childermass just winked. "Don't fret about it. There are wheels within wheels, as the saying goes, and if all the wheels roll along as they should, I'll prove to the authorities that Mr. Mattheus Mergal of Boston, Massachusetts, is the villain who's committed two burglaries. And if that doesn't settle the fellow's hash, I don't know what will!"

Johnny was still far from satisfied, but he made up his mind to wait and see. He simply didn't know what other choice he had.