Authors: Margo Kelly
“No. I came here right after school. I don't want to go home and see it again. But Manny, I'm telling you the truth. I've seen the Angel of Death or some sort of evil spirit.”
Mrs. Santos dropped a pan in the sink. We jerked our heads in her direction. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer.
“Mom?” Manny perched on the edge of the couch to get up, but he clutched his ribs.
“Mrs. Santos?” I approached the counter.
“Amen,” she whispered and opened her eyes. She wiped her hands on her apron and moved around the edge of the counter.
“Do not play with evil spirits, child. When you spoke of them just now, I felt a darkness lurking.”
“You believe in evil spirits?” I asked.
“Of course I do. Not only is God real, but Satan too. Angels and demons battle each other.”
“Does saying a prayer protect you?”
“It helps if you have faith. We've also blessed our home. No malevolent spirits can enter here unless they are invited inside. The prayer I said reinforced that blessing. You are protected in our home. But, please”âshe clutched my handsâ“never tempt these spirits. Once you invite them into your life, your house, your mind, they are hard to get rid of.”
“I haven't invited them in,” I said.
“You took part in a hypnotist's show,” Mrs. Santos said.
“Yes, but I wasn't actually hypnotized.”
“How can you be certain?” A bead of perspiration rolled down Mrs. Santos's forehead. She pulled a tissue from her sleeve and wiped the sweat away.
“I guess I can't.”
She led me back over to the couch where Manny waited.
“If you gave up your free will during hypnosis,” Mrs. Santos said, “evil spirits may have connected with you and then with your house. If you want, we can have your house blessed, but only if your mother agrees to it.”
“Why does my mom need to know?”
“Because you're her daughter, and it's her house. If you have faith, God will bring good things to you, but you have to invite him in, because God will not violate your will.”
“But evil spirits can? Are they more powerful than God?” I asked.
“No, that's not what I said. Satan can cause havoc, but he cannot extinguish true faith. He has no real power here. You can tell him to depart, but you must decide to either act or be acted upon.” She rubbed my shoulder before returning to the kitchen.
Sometimes Mrs. Santos's words spun like riddles in my mind, and the meanings escaped me. Was her faith strong enough to overcome my doubts?
I slipped off my sandals and scooted next to Manny. I wanted to enjoy my time with him and forget about seeing strange things. I wrapped my hands around his, and we watched television. I wished I could move in here with Manny and be with him forever.
Mrs. Santos walked down the hall, and I snuggled into Manny.
“My mom will be back any second,” he said.
I groaned. I needed to cuddle closer. That was all. But I scooted away. Manny's mom returned a few seconds later with her purse dangling from the crook of her arm.
“I need to run errands,” she said. “Your dad will be home from work in a few minutes, and your brothers will be home from soccer soon. Is there anything you need before I leave?”
“Nope.” Manny changed the channel.
The front door clicked when Mrs. Santos left, and I grinned at Manny. I reached across him, grabbed the remote, and clicked off the television.
“What are you doing?” he asked and fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.
“Why are you nervous?” I pushed his hair away from his face. Then I traced his features, starting with his eyebrows and working down the bridge of his nose to his lips. I leaned in to kiss him, and he lifted a hand between us.
“Wait,” he whispered.
“You don't want to kiss me?” I asked.
“Of course I do.” He rubbed his face. “But someone could barge in on us at any second.”
“It's only kissing. Besides, we'll hear the front door long before anyone gets back here.” I kissed his palm and then his wrist. He sighed. I leaned in and pressed my lips against his.
I drew back and studied his dark eyes. Then I carefully maneuvered onto his lap and kissed his neck. He gave in to me this time. Soft as a feather, I traced the tip of my tongue along his full lips. They parted, and our tongues touched tentatively at first, but then we sank into a deep, long kiss. Manny moaned. His hand found the hem of my dress. He stroked the bare skin of my knees, and then he pushed me away.
“What has gotten into you?” Manny asked, breathless. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“It was only a kiss,” I said. “Manny, we almost died.” I moved away from him and stroked the plush carpet with my toes. “Everything we have could be gone in a blink. Just gone.” Student Council. Lily. Jordan.
“Are you going to the funeral?” I asked.
“Yes. Are you?”
I locked eyes with him. “His family doesn't want me to.” I told him how Jordan's mom slapped me at the hospital and what his aunt said after creative writing class.
Manny pulled me closer.
“I don't want to lose you, too,” I said.
“You won't.”
I nestled my head against his neck, and he wrapped his arms around me.
“Where did you learn to kiss like that anyway?” he whispered.
I pulled back from him to see his face. He was serious. “You are the only guy I have ever kissed. The Ferris wheel was my first time. Ever. I waited years for you to be interested in me.”
“But now you're hanging out with Eugene, seeing evil spirits, and climbing all over me.”
There was a click at the front door.
“Hello? Anyone home?” Manny's dad bellowed. He walked into the kitchen area. “Oh, hello, Hannah. How are you?”
“I was just leaving.” I slipped on my sandals and stared at Manny for a moment. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for one short, little second . . . just to see what would happen. Would it freak Manny out? Would it scare Mr. Santos? Was it possible to behave erratically for one lousy minute and still be normal? Acceptable? Lovable?
I turned away and hustled down the hall before either of them said anything else. And before I said or did something I'd regret. I loved Manny, but I'd never seen this critical side of him before, and I was unsure what to do about it. I wanted to be one with him so badly my stomach ached, but he'd asked,
What has gotten into you?
I'd been propelled by instinct and desire, but it wasn't as if I'd stripped him naked. I'd only kissed him. He almost died in the accident. I nearly killed him. My best friend. My true love. Would Manny and I survive this? Would he still want to be with me when he returned to Peregrine?
I checked the time on my cell and slipped it into my dress pocket. Then I grabbed my backpack and stepped outside. The sunlight blinded me momentarily, and as I walked across the grass, an uncomfortable heaviness settled on me. I stopped on the sidewalk and faced Manny's house. Mrs. Santos had said no evil spirits could enter their home without invitation, but I was outside now. I pulled the tiger-eye stone out of my pocket and stroked it with my thumb. I felt alone and unprotected.
My legs began to itch.
I glanced down and shrieked.
The sidewalk swelled; legions of ants swarmed over the concrete in waves. They blanketed my sandals, my toes, and my ankles. Several scampered past my knees and beneath my dress. I stomped and screamed and swatted at the evil pests. They bit into my flesh. I darted out into the road to get away from the mega-colony, and I shook my skirt, lifting it up and down. I needed to get the insects off me. Red welts spotted my legs.
A minivan pulled into Manny's driveway, and I continued flipping my skirt and brushing my legs. Manny's younger brothers, Miguel and Michael, hopped out of the van.
“What's going on?” Miguel asked.
My cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “Ants.” I pointed at the sidewalk.
The minivan backed out and drove away. Manny's brothers moved over to where I'd pointed.
“What ants?” Miguel asked.
I inched over to them. No bugs. Not a single one remained on the sidewalk, but welts covered my legs. I pointed at the red bumps. “They bit me.”
“Ants don't bite,” Miguel said.
“Carpenter ones do,” I said.
Miguel scrunched up his face in disbelief.
“Never mind.” I walked away. I brushed off my dress to make sure no more bugs remained. The welts on my legs were evidence bugs had bitten me. It was not a delusion. I was not crazy.
When I arrived home, the driveway was empty. Mom was probably working late tonight. As the general manager of the largest hotel in town, she often got called in at strange hours of the night. The hotel had more than 500 rooms, two restaurants, and three lounges, and that kept her busy.
I headed upstairs to my room and found it in the same condition I'd left it that morning, with the bedcovers on the floor and dirty clothes in the corner. I kicked off my sandals and sat at my desk to check e-mails. Nick had sent the information to configure my computer for capturing videos. I downloaded the program and modified my computer settings to get it to work. I had just finished when I heard a bang come from downstairs. It echoed through the house.
“Mom?” I called.
Silence.
I skipped testing Nick's program and clicked the start button. Then I moved to the top of the stairs and listened for noises. The house was so quiet I heard the refrigerator kick on in the kitchen.
I tiptoed downstairs. No one. Nothing unusual.
In the kitchen, Mom had left a note on the counter:
Working late. You can reheat the pizza in the fridge for dinner.
Great. More leftover pizza. Mrs. Santos undoubtedly had prepared a delicious five-course meal for her family. Most likely, they had circled the dinner table and eaten together. I wanted what Manny had. I opened the fridge and lifted out the box, but before I saw what toppings Mom had ordered, another loud noise reverberated through the house. I set the pizza box on the counter and went to investigate the sound.
The front door hung wide open. I could've sworn I'd shut it already. I closed the door and flipped the deadbolt. I scanned the living room. Nothing. I hesitated at the base of the stairs. Did I really need to search the whole house? But I knew I'd enjoy my pizza more if I checked things out first. I darted up the stairs and inspected Mom's bedroom. Nothing. I swung open the door to my room.
The pink elephant sat on my neatly made bed.
“No.”
I snatched the elephant and screamed until my lungs burned. I wrenched my fingers into an open seam and ripped him apart. I yanked out his stuffing and tore off his limbs. I threw the pieces across the room, as far away from me as possible. How did this charred monster get back in my room? The smell of smoke became stronger and stronger. I coughed. I chucked the last piece of elephant to the far corner and ran to the top of the stairs. A dark vapor swirled around the base and climbed one step at a time.
Moving backward, I crept to my room and slammed the door. I leaned against it and kept my gaze on the torn bits of elephant. The smoke detectors beeped, and a thick gray haze seeped under the door. What if this wasn't my mind playing cruel tricks or even demons taunting me? What if the house was really on fire? I didn't want to burn to death. I threw open my door and ran back downstairs. A black cloud clung to the ceiling. I stayed low with the breathable air. I unbolted the front door and swung it open. Then I crawled to the back door and opened it to let fresh air inside.
The smoke seemed thickest in the kitchen. I covered my nose and searched for the source. There were no flames anywhere, but red indicator lights glowed on the stove, and gray haze streamed upward from the rear vent. I opened the oven door, and black smoke billowed out. I gagged and closed the door with a thud. I shut off the oven and flipped on the water in the sink. I found the barbecue tongs, held my breath, and opened the oven. I reached in with the tongs and tugged out the blackened pizza box, dumped it into the sink of water, and turned off the faucet. I dropped the tongs on the counter and ran out to the backyard. I collapsed on my knees in the middle of the lawn and gasped for air.
Black clouds continued to stream out of the house, and the smoke detectors continued to beep at a ridiculous volume. Would the neighbors notice? I should have opened more windows for better circulation, but I couldn't bear to go back inside. I needed fresh air. I lay back on the cool grass and tried to clear my lungs. I recalled the aroma of freshly baked bread at Manny's house. His mom probably never burned anything in the oven. I wheezed with each breath I took. I couldn't remember putting the pizza box in the oven or turning it on.
I jolted upright. I was certain I had set the pizza on the counter. Then I went upstairs. Found the awful elephant. But I never put the pizza in the oven. Someone must have been in the house playing a cruel joke on me. I needed to see if Nick's program recorded anything on my computer, but there was still too much smoke in the house.
The welts on my shin itched, and I scratched them. They bled, but I scratched anyway. Maybe Chelsea got inside my house and burned the pizza. My fingers slipped, covered in blood. I rubbed my hand in the grass, but the sticky red mess smeared across my skin, and my leg continued to bleed. I needed a towel.
I took a deep breath of clean air and ran back inside. I opened the windows downstairs. Then I grabbed a towel from a kitchen drawer and darted outside. I wrapped the dishcloth around my leg and tucked the corner underneath to secure it in place. Good enough for now.
Mom would freak when she saw the mess I'd caused. Everything reeked of smoke, and stains darkened the wall behind the stove. I sank down to the grass, and after about five more minutes, the detectors stopped blaring. I moved over to one of the patio lounge chairs and curled up on it.