My Name Is Evil (11 page)

I covered my ears, trying to force out the shrieks and groans and cries of horror. And I ran, ran out of the lunchroom, and tore through the deserted hall.

“Maggie! Stop!” a voice called.

I spun around. “Glen—!” I cried.

His eyes locked on mine. “Let's get out of here,” he said softly. “Some kids and teachers are coming after you.”

I gasped. “You—you're helping me?”

He didn't answer. He pushed the door open and guided me outside. “Come on. Run,” he whispered.

I heard the thud of rapid footsteps behind us in the hall. I didn't turn around to see who was coming.

I lowered my head and started to run, following Glen across the playground. It was a gray, windy afternoon. Heavy, low clouds made it seem nearly as dark as night. Our shoes crunched over dead leaves as we ran.

I heard shouts from the school behind us. Glen and I crossed the street and kept running.

We didn't stop until we were two blocks away and the school building was no longer in sight. I dropped onto the grass of someone's front lawn, gasping for air, waiting for the pain in my side to fade.

Glen lowered himself beside me. His face was bright red. His hair was so wild about his head, he looked as if he'd been in a hurricane!

“I was in the lunchroom,” he said, swallowing. “It … was so weird.”

I nodded, still struggling to catch my breath.

“Kids said it was your fault,” Glen continued, his eyes searching mine. “They said you have evil powers or something.”

I snickered bitterly. “Do you believe them? Aren't you afraid of me?”

He swallowed again and brushed back his hair with one hand. “Yeah. I guess I am. A little.” He lowered his eyes. “But I saw you needed help. So …”

I reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for sticking with me,” I whispered.

He looked embarrassed. He pulled his hand away quickly. “What happened back there, Maggie?”

I shook my head unhappily. “I—I don't really know. I don't know if it was my fault or not. I wanted to show Jilly and Jackie that they were wrong about me. But then …” My voice trailed off.

My brain was doing flip-flops. I felt dizzy. And so confused.

Glen was still studying me intently. “Do you really have powers?”

“I—I don't know!” I screamed. I didn't mean to scream. It just burst out of me. I jumped to my feet. “I don't know! Stop asking me questions!”

My head felt about to explode. I spun away from Glen and took off.

I saw the startled expression on his face. But I didn't care. I couldn't explain to him what had just happened in the lunchroom. I couldn't explain it to myself!

I had to get away from him, too. I had to go somewhere and think.

I couldn't go back to school. At least, not until things calmed down. And I couldn't go home. Mom would probably be there—and how could I explain?

So I kept running … running in a daze. Ignoring the ache in my side from running so hard. Ignoring the pictures of horror from the lunchroom that played over and over in my mind.

A loud wail of a car horn snapped me from a daze. I heard the squeal of brakes and saw the red car swerve—and realized I had run into the street without even looking.

“Are you crazy?” The young man in the driver's seat swung a fist out the window at me. “Want to get killed?”

“Sorry,” I called as he roared away.

I shut my eyes. Close call, I thought.

But somehow the shock of the close call had calmed me down. I had stopped trembling. My heart no longer thudded against my chest.

Where am I? I wondered.

The heavy clouds seemed to lower over me. Squinting into the darkening light, I saw that I was only a block from the Cedar Bay Mall.

In the middle of the afternoon the mall would be a safe place to sit down and think, I told myself. Everyone I knew was in school. I didn't have to worry about running into anyone there.

I'll find a quiet place to sit down, and I'll try to figure this all out, I decided.

I'll try to figure out a way to talk to Mom about what happened. I'll force her to tell me the truth about myself.

Mom lied before. I know she did.

I can't kid myself anymore. I have to admit to myself that I do have powers. I've been denying it, denying it, denying it.

But after the scene in the lunchroom, I know better.

I caused those people to trip, those lunch trays to fly. I caused those kids to be sick. My evil thoughts caused it all. I can't deny it any longer.

What am I going to do? I wondered, feeling my panic start to return. I couldn't stop what was happening. I tried to stop it—but it was out of control.

How will I have a normal life? How will I ever have any friends?

I waited for the traffic to clear, then crossed the street and made my way through the parking lot to a mall entrance. Inside, I gazed down the long aisle. The mall was practically empty. A mother pushed her sleeping baby past me in a stroller. An elderly couple, both leaning on bright blue canes, peered into the window of a shoe store.

I passed by a Gap, an Urban Outfitters, a CD store, and a bookstore. Somehow, the blur of bright lights and colors and the bouncy, brassy music from the loudspeakers was comforting.

Normal life. Everything so clean and bright … and normal.

I suddenly pictured Glen, the startled look on his face when I took off and ran away from him.

I'll have to apologize later, I decided. That wasn't nice of me at all. He was only trying to help me. He was the only one who wanted to help me.

I took an escalator down one flight. My stomach growled. I remembered that I hadn't eaten any lunch.

I'll grab something to eat at the food court, I decided. Then I'll find a place in a corner where I can sit and think.

I rode down to the lower level. Turned down the aisle that led to the food court—and stopped.

“Oh.” I stared hard at the woman in the brightly colored flowered dress coming toward me. I recognized her instantly—and to my shock, she recognized me.

Miss Elizabeth. The fortune-teller.

Her dark eyes bulged. She dropped her shopping bags. Then she scooped them up quickly. Turned. And, long black hair bouncing behind her, started to hurry away.

“No, wait! Please!” I cried, running after her. “Please—wait!”

Miss Elizabeth dropped a shopping bag again. She stopped to pick it up, and I caught up with her.

“Please—” I said.

“I remember you,” the fortune-teller said, her eyes studying me coldly.

I stepped in front of her so she couldn't run away. “Tell me the truth,” I pleaded. “That night … at the carnival …”

“I sensed the evil,” she said. “I saw it.”

“But how can that be?” I asked. “My whole life, I—”

“I can sense it now,” Miss Elizabeth interrupted. “The evil you carry. It's so strong.”

“I—I just don't understand!” I cried. “I never used to be evil. Up until my birthday I never had any powers!”

The woman stared at me coldly. I caught the fear in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled. “Let me go now,” she said.

“No, wait. Please.” I blocked her path. I held up my hand. “Look at it again. Just look at it. Maybe … maybe you made a mistake.”

She shook her head. “No. I must go.” She raised the shopping bags in her hands. “I have been shopping a long time. My family is waiting.”

I shoved my hand into her face. “It will only take a second,” I said. “Please—look at my hand. You were wrong the first time. I know you were.”

Miss Elizabeth sighed and set down her bags. She reached for my hand and turned it so that the palm was up.

She raised my palm to her face and squinted at it for a second or two.

And then she opened her mouth in a shrill cry—and tossed my hand away as if it were burning hot!

“The evil!” she cried. “It's there on your hand! I made no mistake. It came with your birthday! Thirteen is a powerful number!”

She took a step back, her eyes wide and frightened.

“Wait,” I pleaded. “Are you sure—?” I stuck out my hand again.

“Please—don't hurt me!” the woman begged. “Don't hurt me! I have a family. They are waiting.”

“I … I won't hurt you,” I whispered. “I'm … sorry.” I lowered my hand—my evil hand—to my side. And turned away from the poor, trembling woman.

She grabbed up her bags and scurried away. I watched her as she rode up the escalator, staring down at me, clutching her bags tightly in front of her as if shielding herself from my evil magic.

At home I shut myself up in my room and didn't even come out for dinner. Mom kept banging on my door, asking what was wrong. “Are you sick? I'm a nurse, remember? Let me look at you.”

“No. I just want to be left alone,” I called out.

I felt relieved when she left to work the night shift at the hospital. I sat down at my desk and grabbed the telephone.

I'd been thinking hard, thinking for hours.

At first my thoughts were filled with anger. Anger and despair.

My life is over, I thought. I'm doomed—doomed to a horrible, lonely life.

A life without friends. With everyone hating me, terrified of me.

But then I started thinking about my powers. I have powers, I knew. I definitely have powers. But do they have to be evil?

I thought about those old TV shows they run on Nickelodeon all the time at night. The one with the genie who is always popping in and out, doing cute magic. And the other show—
Bewitched
—with the cute, blond witch.

Everyone thinks they're funny, I told myself. No one hates them. Everyone thinks they're terrific!

I knew they were only TV sitcoms. There wasn't anything real about them. But they started me thinking in a whole new way.

They gave me a little bit of hope.

So I sat down at my desk and phoned Jackie.

At first she didn't want to talk to me. “Haven't you caused enough damage?” she asked angrily. “What more do you want, Maggie?”

“I want my friends,” I said. “I want you and your sisters not to hate me. I don't want everyone in school to stare at me like I'm some kind of freak, and hide from me, and think I'm evil.”

“But—but you are evil!” Jackie sputtered. “You proved it—in the lunchroom. Even Judy had to admit it.”

“No—!” I protested. “Listen to me, Jackie. Please don't hang up. Give me a chance.”

“I've got to study,” she replied. “I can't spend time on the phone. I have that algebra test first thing tomorrow morning, and you know it's my worst subject.”

“I have the test, too,” I said. “Listen, I've been thinking …”

“I've got to go, Maggie. Really—”

“Maybe I do have powers,” I continued. “In fact, yes. Okay—yes. I do have powers. I don't know how. I don't know why. But I seem to have them.”

“Maggie, you've already hurt my family so much!” Jackie declared.

“Well—what if I use my powers for good?” I asked. “If I can do evil things, I can do good things, too—right?”

“I don't know,” Jackie said impatiently. “The whole thing is too creepy, too yucky. Everyone is scared of you now, Maggie, and—and so am I.”

“But what if I do something good tomorrow? What if I use my powers to get you an A on the algebra test?”

Jackie uttered a startled cry. “Excuse me?”

“I'll get you an A tomorrow,” I repeated. “I'll concentrate all my powers. I promise. I'll—”

“Concentrate your powers? Like in the lunchroom?” she interrupted.

“I'll concentrate all my powers and get you an A on the test,” I said.

“Well …”

“I want you to stay my friend,” I told her. “I'll do it for you. Really. You'll see. And if I do it, you have to promise not to hate me.”

Again, she hesitated. “Well … we'll see, Maggie. See you tomorrow.” And she hung up.

I sat at the desk, gripping the phone, staring out the window at the black night sky.

I just made a big promise. Can I do it? I wondered.

Can I?