Dingdong. Dingdong. Finally! There was Lisa was at the door, sleeping bag in hand. Jasmine and Lisa headed upstairs right away.
But at the top of the stairs, Lisa stopped in front of the mask. “Wow,” she said, looking up. “This is really freaky and also kinda cool. Where did it come from?”
“My dad just brought it back from his trip,” Jasmine mumbled. Then she stayed silent, even though Lisa was clearly waiting for more of a response. Jasmine didn’t want to encourage Lisa to talk about the mask—she was going to try to pretend it wasn’t there. But of course Lisa kept asking questions. She was practically acting like a newspaper reporter. She touched the mask gently with her fingertips.
“Who made it? Did your dad say?”
“Um, an old guy,” Jasmine answered. “He gave it to my dad. Come on, let’s go to my room.”
“Wait a second,” Lisa said. She moved in closer to the mask to get a better look. Jasmine took a step back.
“Sometimes masks like these have special powers,” Lisa said casually, as if she were talking about the weather. “Like magical powers. I saw a show on TV about it. Does this one? Did your dad say?”
“He mentioned something about what it’s supposed to do, I guess,” Jasmine admitted. “But I wasn’t really paying attention. Come on.”
Lisa followed Jasmine to her room, much to Jasmine’s relief. But she kept asking: “So does it, does it?”
“Does it what?” Jasmine said flatly.
“Have special powers!” Lisa’s whole face was lit up with excitement.
Jasmine sighed. “If I tell you, will you stop asking?” she finally said.
“I promise!” Lisa said, and held her right hand over her heart.
“Okay, but seriously, you need to stop. It’s just some boring travel story my dad came back with, as always,” Jasmine said. “The mask is supposed to protect a house from evil spirits. Okay?”
Lisa stared solemnly at Jasmine. “How does it do that?” she asked.
“Aaaaargh! I don’t know!” Jasmine said, her voice rising with annoyance. “You said you’d stop asking!”
“Okay,” Lisa finally said. “Do you want to watch TV?”
“Yes, please!” Jasmine laughed. She was lucky enough to have a television in her bedroom, after years of asking her dad for one. They watched a movie about twins who switch places and trick everyone. It was pretty good. When it was over, Jasmine handed Lisa the remote. “Here, you can choose.”
Lisa flipped through a bunch of shows that Jasmine actually wanted to watch, but she reminded herself she had told Lisa she could choose the channel. “Yay!” Lisa crowed, stopping on a show called Haunted New Orleans.
Jasmine groaned. That was pretty much the last thing she wanted to watch with the exception of Haunted New Orleans and Especially That Creepy Mask in Jasmine Porter’s House. The host of the show had a very deep and spooky voice. Jasmine knew the producers of the show were just trying to set the mood, but she wished they wouldn’t set it so well.
This episode took place in an old home in the French Quarter. The owner was being interviewed.
“Well, when I bought the building, there were stories,” the owner was saying. “But I didn’t believe any of them. The price was so low that I just had to buy the place. It wasn’t until after I started renting rooms out and people began coming to me, inquiring about strange goings-on, that I started to rethink my decision.”
Jasmine couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed the remote and turned the channel. Some silly game show came on.
Lisa grabbed the remote and turned it back to the ghost show. The owner was still talking. “Like cold spots, spots in the house that wouldn’t heat up. And noises at all hours of the day or night even when no one else was home or everyone was asleep. Things like that.”
Jasmine grabbed the remote from Lisa’s grip and turned the channel again.
“You are being such a scaredy-cat!” Lisa laughed. “Come on, this stuff is so fun.”
“I am not a scaredy-cat,” Jasmine protested, although of course she knew the truth about herself. “I’m just in the mood for doing something else.”
“All right, scaredy,” Lisa teased. “What do you want to do, then? It’s almost time for lights-out.”
Nana still had a very strict “bedtime” for Jasmine, though the girls were allowed to talk while they lay in bed in the dark.
“I don’t know,” Jasmine said softly. She felt kind of badly. She hated to ruin Lisa’s fun, but that show was just too scary for her. It was going to give her nightmares—she just knew it. “We could play a game online,” she suggested.
“Or we could plan our own Haunted New Orleans episode!” Lisa said, her eyes bright. “After your dad and Nana go to sleep, we could search for ghosts in your house. Because you know my theory . . . There are ghosts in this house.”
Jasmine sighed dramatically, trying to cover up her dread of actually playing the game Lisa had suggested, as well as the sinking feeling she got whenever Lisa wanted to talk about how she thought there were ghosts in her house.
“And you know what else,” Lisa went on, “I read somewhere that New Orleans is the most haunted city in the United States.”
“Really?” Jasmine had never heard such a thing. Just her luck.
A sudden overwhelming feeling of sadness enveloped Jasmine. She tried to keep a normal expression on her face. Me and my mask, she thought.
But Lisa was still chattering away. “There are lots of reasons why New Orleans is so haunted,” she said kind of dreamily. From history class, and from just living in New Orleans, they both knew that their city was settled by the French beginning in the 1690s and that many of the houses, including those in their neighborhood, were very old.
“Lights-out!” Nana called from downstairs. Great, Jasmine thought. Just in time for me to freak out about being in the dark. As usual. She got up and turned out the light just as Lisa crawled into her sleeping bag on the floor. The two sat silently in the near dark for a minute.
Creak! Jasmine jumped a little, but it was just her dad opening the door and poking his head into the room. “Good night, girls,” he said in a singsong voice. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite!” Jasmine was secretly annoyed whenever her dad said that rhyme, which was often. Why would he put such a horrible thought in her head just when she was getting ready to sleep? Little bugs in your bed that came out when you were asleep. And bit your skin! But Jasmine tried to keep her voice light and steady as she said “Good night, Dad.”
“Good night, Mr. Porter,” Lisa said.
“Lisa, how many times have I told you to call me Martin?” Jasmine’s dad scolded in a joking way.
“Good night, Martin.” Lisa laughed, and Jasmine was jealous of how natural Lisa’s laugh sounded—she would fall right to sleep, while Jasmine predicted that she’d lie there wide-awake thinking about ghosts and the bogeyman for a while. She was glad the night-light had been fixed. She had casually asked her dad to replace the bulb earlier, and she was relieved that he had. He left the door open a crack so some of the light from the hallway spilled in. Jasmine heard him enter his study down the hall and start up his computer.
Sometimes it seemed like he never stopped working.
Lisa was already breathing differently, the way you do when you’re asleep. Again, jealousy rose in Jasmine’s chest at the ease with which her best friend fell asleep. She is probably dreaming of unicorns and puppies and lollipops and rainbows, Jasmine figured. Jasmine lay patiently and waited for sleep to come. But something strange started happening.
Jasmine’s hands and toes felt like they were falling asleep, all pins and needles. She hated that feeling. And the blanket was feeling heavier and heavier on her body. Maybe I should get up, she thought. Whenever she complained about her arm or leg falling asleep, her dad would tell her to move it around as much as she could to “wake it up.”
Jasmine quietly got up and tiptoed out of the room, stepping carefully over Lisa in her sleeping bag. The hall was bright, thankfully, and she walked slowly to the bathroom, trying not to disturb her dad working in the study.
The bathroom door was closed, which it usually wasn’t, and Jasmine turned the handle and opened it and . . .
HISSSSSS! HISSSSSS! The sound reached Jasmine’s ears before she processed what she saw. HISSSSSS! And when Jasmine was finally able to focus on what was in front of her, she wished she had kept her eyes closed.