The Book of Dares for Lost Friends (5 page)

“He still kicked me out.”

“No matter. You held your own better than most.”

Was he kidding? Val couldn't tell. “What's your name?”

“Tasman.” He pretended to bow. “Perhaps one day people will call me Taz.”

“I can call you that.”

“No, no. I'm not a Taz yet. But I do believe that in the future, maybe after I have defeated an enemy or performed a perfect dive from the cliffs of the Yucatán, maybe then I could at least be a Taz in training.”

Val laughed.

“I'm not very valorous. I am probably de-valorous. No, that would imply that at one time I had valor but lost it. So most likely I am merely un-valorous.” He moved closer to the window where the cat still slept. “I wouldn't be talking to you at all except that in a way I feel that Mau has introduced us.”

“We call her Mau, too,” Val said.

“Why shouldn't you? That's her name.”

As if she knew she was being discussed, Mau opened one eye to glance at them. Then she licked her paw with the intense concentration that humans could only aspire to.

“Don't you think it's weird that we would both know that? It's not like she could tell us.” Val tried to remember why Lanora had decided that Mau was Mau.

“How do you know she can't? It's true she speaks no English, but she might communicate on a molecular level by causing a fluctuation in the electron magnetic spin, much like what happens in an MRI.”

“Why do you talk like that?” Val said.

“I'm a creature from another realm. Like the Captain's other relics, I too have been shipwrecked by time. And so, like many artifacts, I have attributes that are no longer useful. Or admired. Like the deckled edges of the pages of that book.”

“The what?”

He sighed. “I will try to control my verbosity.” He passed his hand in front of his face, walked backwards and then forwards as if to begin again. “After all, like the torn edges, it's just a way to disguise…” His voice trailed away.

“Disguise what?”

“What I really came to tell you is that I will look for your lost item. I'm sure it can't be hard to find. Unless it's an old leather-bound book. We have a surfeit of those, as I'm sure you noticed.”

“It's okay. It really doesn't matter.”

“Are you saying that the object doesn't matter? Or your attachment to the object? Didn't you say it belongs to your friend?”

Val kicked a rock across the cement yard. Unlike a ball, it didn't return to her. She felt unsettled. Was that because of her mixed-up feelings about Lanora? Or was it because this boy wanted to discuss those mixed-up feelings? “I can always buy another one.”

“Buy another one? The significance lies not in the object. If that were true, who would care about bits of old glass? Or scraps of plant fiber pounded into paper? It's the journey of the thing that matters. Its provenance. Where has it come from? Why has it been saved? Where did Mau get it? Why did she bring it here?”

“Why did she?” Although what Val really wanted to know was why Lanora had buried the butterfly in the first place.

“I can answer that last question. So you could meet me, of course,” Tasman said.

“Maybe Mau just wanted to take a nap in the window,” Val said.

Mau had stopped bathing and was sleeping with her tail across her eyes.

“On that book. That could be significant. Usually she sleeps on that inscribed brick.” Tasman pointed to a rust-colored stone covered with tiny marks. The book was indeed much more intriguing.

“What book is it?” Val said.

“It's a book of spells,” Tasman said.

“Of what?” Val said.

“Spells.”

Val laughed. “That's what I thought you said.”

“Why are you laughing? Don't you believe in spells?” He leaned closer to peer into her eyes.

She took a step back. “Do you?”

“I believe in believing. It's a scientific fact that if you believe you'll do well on a math test, then you will do better.”

“A scientific fact?”

“Doesn't that sound more convincing than if I said I read it on the Internet? Which I did, by the way. It's as much of a mistake to discount everything one reads there as it is to believe everything.”

Val folded her arms. “That still doesn't explain why a cat would bring me here.”

Tasman looked at the book again. “Of course these aren't typical spells for altering the weather or getting rid of warts. The actual title is:
The Book of Dares for Lost Friends.
”

“What?” Val leaned closer to the window even though she couldn't decipher the strange markings on the page. Then she looked at Tasman. He must have made it up. But how could he have known about Lanora? She turned her back on him and the book. “I don't have a lost friend.”

“No, you don't seem the type to misplace anything of value,” he said.

“That's right,” she said.

“It's a good thing you don't need
The Book of Dares.
But if I find this object that belonged to the careless Lanora, what should I do with it? How can I return it to you?”

“When I'm not at school, I'm usually in Central Park. Playing soccer,” Val said.

“You wouldn't consider something a little less dangerous?”

“What's dangerous about that?”

“For you, nothing. You are Val. But for others?” He placed his palm near the wedjat as he went back into the shop.

 

Eight

The sun crossed the sky. When the wooden sign cast its shadow on
The Book of Dares,
Mau stretched and stood up. Without any farewell, not even a flick of her tail, she snuck out of the Antiquities from the Shipwreck of Time and entered the back alley. She sniffed. The late-afternoon air was full of promise.

Was that dog trapped inside that apartment? Oh, yes. Mau trotted along until she reached the open window. She paused. The beast barked and howled and hurled itself at the screen. Inspiring such emotion in another creature amused Mau for a moment. But a much more urgent question demanded her full attention.

What should she eat? The chances for tuna were good. She hadn't visited her cat ladies in several days. But Mau decided to hunt for her dinner like her ancestors had done. Being in the antiquities shop always reminded her of her illustrious past. In ancient Egypt, cats were worshiped as gods because they killed the mice and rats that would have devoured the Egyptians' golden grain. In New York City, the stores of grain were metaphorical; the mice were real enough. Which variety should Mau choose? Park mice flavored with a hint of wild garlic? Bookstore mice that tasted of leather? Apartment mice that had grown fattest of all on pizza crusts and sweet cereals? Ah, yes. The kind of mice that lived with Lanora.

Mau crept from alley to alley until she reached a tree growing up through a crack in the cement. One of its branches stretched to the fire escape outside of Lanora's window. Mau looked up. The window was dark. The fire escape was empty. Lanora wasn't there.

Mau went past the garbage cans, through a small passageway, and emerged in front of Lanora's building. She hid under some bushes that had been trimmed to look like a green wall. While she waited for Lanora, she caught a mouse and ate it. It tasted of pizza.

Then she heard Lanora coming along the sidewalk. Lanora wasn't talking, but Mau recognized the particular rhythm of her walk.

There were other girls, too. Mau didn't recognize them; none of them were Val. Mau could smell something quite overpowering. A harsh, bad smell, like what humans used to clean themselves instead of their tongues. Then there was another smell, like an animal. But what animal? As the girls came closer, Mau could see that one of them was carrying something about the size of a baby rabbit.

Was it dead? Mau couldn't be certain. It wasn't moving. But they stroked it with as much reverence as if it were alive.

Whatever it was, she knew it was no match for her. She came out from the bushes and sat in the middle of the sidewalk.

The girls shrieked. “Where did that come from?”

Mau smiled. Seeming to appear from nowhere was one of her powers.

Lanora leaned down to hold out her hand to be sniffed.

“Don't go near it. It's a stray,” one of the girls said.

Mau moved away from Lanora to sit directly in front of that girl. A stray? She looked up at the girl. How dare you refer to me as a stray.

“Move,” the girl said, making feeble gestures with her hand.

Mau wondered how she should torment the girl. Sometimes she liked to rub against the ones who feared her, feigning affection. Other times she would let them see exactly why they should be terrified. What other creature could transform itself from a cuddly thing into a fierce fiend just by puffing up its tail and revealing its claws?

Lanora stood between Mau and the girl, and warned Mau with her eyes.

Mau was confused. Why was Lanora defending this girl? Why was she with those girls at all? What was that dead animal? Why had Lanora changed her habits? Didn't she appreciate the comfort of continuity in an uncertain world?

Lanora shook her head twice. Mau twitched her tail angrily, but she wouldn't argue with Lanora. Mau arched her back and then walked down the street with her tail held high. She didn't look back at the girls. But she made sure they saw how the tip of her tail curled as if to say, You mean nothing to me.

*   *   *

“Weird,” Alicia said.

“Way weird,” Anna said.

“Whatever,” Ariel said.

Lanora was too agitated to speak. Her toe twitched inside her boot.

Alicia held the small, red leather bag out to Lanora. “Take it.”

Lanora frowned. Was this charity? Or a reward for saving her from Mau? “Why?”

“I have plenty,” Alicia said.

Charity, then.

“Next time, you can get your own,” Alicia said.

“If you don't try for another briefcase,” Ariel said.

“Ha ha.” But Lanora hadn't wanted just what she could get. A change purse was useless, even if it was made of real leather and had a tiny designer emblem. Lanora longed for a sleek, black leather briefcase with special compartments for important papers, a fountain pen, a phone, and a laptop—the weapons she would wield as she strode into battle.

Alicia gave Lanora the change purse and brought her cheek close to Lanora's cheek. Then Anna and Ariel did the same.

“Ciao,” they said.

“Ciao,” Lanora said.

When the girls had disappeared around the corner, Lanora looked for Mau. But Mau had gone. Mau wouldn't have let Lanora hold her anyway. Lanora stroked the bag instead. Expensive leather felt so much softer than other kinds. When she got her black briefcase, it would be made from leather like this.

She put the change purse in her book bag and went inside the building. She was in such a hurry that her toe almost touched one of the brown tiles. She managed to avoid that bit of bad luck. She climbed the stairs and let herself into the apartment. She wanted to take the purse to her bedroom, but her mom came over to hug her.

“Where have you been? What is that smell?” Emma said.

“We got sprayed,” Lanora said.

“What?” Emma said.

“With perfume in a department store.” Lanora laughed.

“What were you doing in a store?”

“Just looking. Don't worry. I didn't spend any money.”

“Don't you find it frustrating to look at what you can't buy?”

“Not really. I like to plan what I'm going to do.” Lanora carried her book bag into her room. She sat on her bed and took out the change purse.

“Lanora?” Emma called. “Dinner.”

“Coming.” Lanora stroked the purse one last time and then hid it at the back of her underwear drawer. Then she moved it to the highest shelf, behind the old craft projects. Her mom would never look there.

Emma placed two bowls on the kitchen table.

Lanora vigorously stirred the contents as if that action could change the stew into lobster bisque. Since her mother was watching, she took a big bite.

“Did you have a fun day?” Emma said.

Lanora chewed carefully and finally said, “It was important.”

“Important?”

“Yes. It was definitely important.”

“I didn't think Val liked shopping,” Emma said.

Lanora laughed.

Emma looked hurt because she didn't get the joke. “Well, I didn't.”

“She didn't go with me. I went with Alicia, Ariel, and Anna.”

“Are they new friends?”

Lanora stared at her spoon. They weren't the type of girls who she would ever share herself with. They were more like business associates. Yes. That's exactly what they were.

“You'll have to have them over sometime,” Emma said.

“Sure.” Lanora smiled politely, knowing that would never happen.

 

Nine

On Monday morning, the kids had to wait for the doors of M.S. 10 to open. There were the usual shenanigans, as the gym teacher called them. Somebody's hat was tossed in the air. Somebody's lunch got eaten. The guys lurched around like Frankenstein's monster. The girls squealed, Stop it. The nerds worried that they would be late for their first class. Everybody was packed so tight that Val didn't have to hold her soccer ball. It was wedged among the bodies of her teammates.

Then something parted the crowd of kids. An invisible red carpet created an aisle for a particular group of girls to glide toward the front door. They didn't look happy they were so privileged. Or sorry for those unfortunate beings who got crushed to create this space.

Val watched Lanora pass by. Her face was as expressionless as the other three girls. Like someone really had cast some kind of spell on her.

The A Team reached the front. At that exact moment, as if by personal decree, the doors swung open. They floated on into the school, miles ahead of the pushing and shoving that was the fate of everyone else.