Mothman's Curse (22 page)

“I am no human,” she spat. “For centuries I have bartered in souls to prolong my life. A soul is the most sought-after currency on earth. Keep yours for now, Mr. Tripp. I can wait. But once you break the curse, it becomes mine to use as I please.”

“I will not break the curse.”

“Every soul returns to me eventually,” she said with a wink. “You may keep your tongue as well, for you will need it to complete the spell.” She pulled a long, slender dagger from a pouch at her side and traced the tip with one finger. “But you will return by week's end to settle your debt, or I will come to collect it myself.” Her features began to change. Flesh blackened; teeth became sharp and rotted; limbs grew misshapen and impossibly thin.

I shut my eyes. I felt a tug on my hand, and suddenly we were back in John's house again.

“Yuck,” I said with a shudder. “That was … educational.” I met John's eyes, a plan already forming in my mind. “Did you know about the rule that he can't touch anyone or anything?”

“I did not, though I had my suspicions. This is the key to ending it for good, Josie. Well done.”

I nodded. “I think I know what to do.”

“I can tell you that he still loves Elsie, that he has always felt lonely and isolated. Yet he is arrogant, believing he can never be beaten. He will be there to watch the disaster unfold. He has not missed a single one. Perhaps this information will be of some help to you.”

“Got it.”

“Please forgive me, Josie. I did not mean to put you in this position. You are a brave young lady, and you have two resourceful brothers to assist you.”

“Thanks.”

I waited awkwardly, not knowing how to say goodbye, but he simply nodded at me, his eyes solemn. “Good luck.”

 

17

I woke with a gasp, racked with tremors, teeth chattering.

Mason was ready with a mountain of blankets. He wrestled them from the floor to my lap in one big heap.

Fox sat on the coffee table, watching me closely. “How'd it go?”

I sat, shivering and half aware, but I felt a smile tug at my face. For the first time in what felt like forever, I knew what to do.

“He can't touch anyone or anything,” I said. “If he does, the curse is broken.”

“How does that help us?”

“We're going to make him so angry that he breaks the curse himself. I need to dig up more ammunition, though. As soon as I can get my fingers working again.” I blew into my cold-stiffened hands, trying to still their trembling.

We switched on the TV again while I pulled myself together.

The first thing we saw was a picture of Uncle Bill in the corner of the screen. “More than a dozen arrests have been made since the first Mothman sighting yesterday, mostly involving charges of trespassing or destruction of public property. But the most notable of those is local businessman Bill Reevey, an employee of Fletcher Auctions who was arrested today on suspicion of orchestrating the recent rash of sightings…”

I moved to turn the channel, but Fox stopped me. “I want to see this.”

But they'd already moved on to the next segment. A reporter stood in front of the Field House, where a huge crowd had gathered. Some of them were protesters, marching with signs declaring,
WE BELIEVE!
and
BEWARE THE MOTH
and even
THE END IS NEAR
.

Another group carried signs saying things like,
GET A LIFE
and
BUGS ARE PEOPLE, TOO
, and
THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE
. The two groups kept shouting insults at each other.

A third group seemed to be early tailgaters, supporters of the two high school teams slated to play in the championship game. They wore either the red and black of the Rebels or the green and gold of the Bulldogs, and they didn't shout at each other so much as just made a lot of noise in general.

“What are all those people doing there?” I demanded, sitting up. “Do we have to save them, too?”

We heard a car pull up out front. Mason ran to the front window. “It's Aunt Barb!”

“Is Uncle Bill with her?” Fox said.

“No.”

When Barb walked in, she was calm on the outside, but on the inside I could tell a mighty storm was brewing.

“You wouldn't believe the things they're saying,” she said in greeting, shaking her head. “Bail is set at $20,000. It's madness. Your uncle, the Mothman mastermind. Of all people,” she huffed. “They can't prove a dang thing and they know it. The worst thing he's ever done in his life is forget to pay the parking meter.”

“On the news there were a bunch of new Mothman sightings. Real ones,” Fox said. “And Uncle Bill was in jail when they happened. Doesn't that prove that he's innocent?”

“You'd think so. There's just all this red tape to work through, and some nonsense about vandalism at the Field House.”

I bit my lip. So did Fox. So did Mason. Barb saw me on the couch, buried under the mound of blankets and pillows. “Josie, are you still not feeling well?” She felt my forehead. “You feel like a Popsicle.”

“I'm okay.”

“Let me make you some tea. Have you all had lunch? I brought burgers. Just came home to shower, then it's back to the station. I'd rather not have to raise bail money if I can help it,” she rambled.

“What about Dad?” Mason said.

“I've been on the phone with him off and on this morning. He's still doing fine, but we agree it's better for him to stay at the hospital for one more day, with all this craziness going on.”

“Aw,” Mason said, slumping down in the pile of pillows.

She smoothed a lock of hair from Mason's forehead. “He said to tell you all that he loves you, and he'll be home real soon.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to sink into a pity party. I crawled out of my nest of blankets to eat the food she brought, though I couldn't even taste it. Even the boys picked at their burgers and fries.

When Aunt Barb left again, I knew we had to get moving on a plan.

“Fox, how many ideas did you guys come up with for tomorrow?”

“Four or five.”

“I want you to keep going until you have thirty ideas on that list. Can you do that?”

“Thirty?” he said. “Why so many?”

“Humor me.”

“What will you be doing, Josie?” Mason asked.

“Research.”

*   *   *

Two hours later we met in the kitchen to compare notes.

“Is there a pet store in town that sells bats?” I said.

“Bats?” Fox said.

“Never mind. I'll call about it in a little while.”

“Oookay.”

Fox had grabbed the Field House plans from the Cave and spread them out on the kitchen table. “The quilt show goes from ten to three tomorrow,” I said, “with setup starting at eight. The game is at seven p.m. They start letting players and concessions workers in at three thirty through the back entrance.”

“First things first,” Fox interrupted. “How do we break the curse, Josie? Tell me you have that worked out. How do we know Mothman will even show up?”

“I'm counting on it. John said Edgar always shows up to watch the disaster in person. It's horrible, I know. But this time it will help us. I need him there if my plan is going to work.”

“How are you going to make him mad?” Mason said.

“I could use your help with that, actually. We need to dream up as many insults about Edgar as we can think of.”

Their faces brightened. They took turns rattling them off almost faster than I could write them down. Then I used my cell phone to record myself reading them out loud.

“So, do you guys have your list?”

“Yes, but first I thought of another problem,” Fox said. “What if we end up
causing
the thing we're trying to prevent? Like, what if we're trying to clear the building and we start a stampede or something?”

“Good thinking,” I said. “We'll have to be extra careful about the plan we choose.”

He dropped a piece of notebook paper on the table with a flourish and a courtly bow. “Here you are, then. Thirty ideas for emptying the Field House, ranging from improbable to pretty much impossible.”

“The bees were my idea,” Mason said.

I started at the top, reading each proposal out loud:

  1. Flood

  2. Fire—real or imaginary

  3. Gas leak—imaginary

  4. Stink bombs

  5. Smoke bombs

  6. Prison break—imaginary

  7. Escaped zoo animals—real or imaginary

  8. Power outage

  9. Plumbing outage

10. Swarm of bees

11. Nuclear reactor leak—imaginary

12. Food poisoning

13. Steal and/or pop all the basketballs

14. Padlock all the doors before anyone can get in

15. Blast really annoying music

16. Hypnotize the crowd

17. Bribe people to leave

I stopped reading and glared at Fox across the table. “How are we gonna bribe five thousand people to leave the arena?”

“Hey, you said come up with thirty ideas. You didn't say they had to be good.”

“Fair enough.” I sighed and kept reading. But the ideas got worse from there. I tried to hide my disappointment, but Fox wasn't fooled.

“It's a pretty awful list, I know,” Fox said. “I warned you.”

“No, no, I think we can work with some of these.”

“I put a star next to the ones that actually seemed doable.”

I nodded my agreement, circling the one I liked best. “It's a great list. Creative. Good job, guys. Let's start with the power outage. I don't know how to do that.” I stared at Fox. “Do you?”

“Not yet,” Fox said. “But that's why we have the Internet, right?”

Mason's eyes gleamed. “We'll wreck the power so good it'll take them days to fix it.”

“Whoa, what do you mean, ‘we,' short stuff?” I said. “You're not coming, Mason.”

He jumped to his feet. “Why not?”

“Are you kidding?” I said. “Fox, did you tell him he could come tomorrow?”

“I, uh, might have mentioned it when he was helping with the list.”

“No way. I don't want him anywhere near that building tomorrow. Sorry, Mason.”

“You're not Momma!” he shouted, face red. “You can't tell us what to do!”

He ran upstairs to his room. I wrapped my arms across my stomach, feeling like I'd been punched.

“Josie, he's seven,” Fox said quietly. “He didn't mean it. In half an hour, he'll forget all about it.”

“I know.” I tried to shake off Mason's outburst, knowing there were more important things to worry about. “Okay, so, you wreck the power. Then what?”

“Everyone sits in the dark for a while,” Fox explained. “The people in charge figure out there's nothing they can do, so they cancel the game and calmly escort everyone from the building.”

“Sounds good in theory,” I said. “Let's do it.”

We moved to the study to search for information about large-scale power outages. Fox did the typing while I watched over his shoulder. “It has to be something they can't fix in a couple of minutes,” I said.

“Can't we just cut some wires?” Fox said.

“If you're sure you won't electrocute yourself.”

“Right. I'll keep looking, then.”

I wandered around the study, thinking about the protesters and tailgaters we'd seen on TV. “I'm worried about all the people outside the Field House,” I told Fox. “Couldn't they get hurt, too?”

“I guess, but what are we supposed to do about it? We can't be everywhere at once,” Fox said.

“You're right. That's why I think we need more manpower.”

“Well, with Mason out of the picture, that just leaves me and you. What are we supposed to do, recruit people? Who on earth will even listen to us?” Fox said. Before I could answer, he sat up and snapped his fingers. “Wait, I think I know.”

“Who?”

“We've got Dad's computer right here along with his entire customer e-mail list. A bunch of them are big, strong farmer types. I'll bet they'd help.”

A dozen reasons why it wouldn't work hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I bit them back.
Why not?
“Okay.”

Together, we composed an e-mail promising fifty of Dad's best customers an exclusive, up-close, in-depth preview of previously unseen Goodrich estate items, but only if they could be at our house within the next hour.

“Most of them will come if they can,” Fox said as he pressed Send. “Then all we have to do is convince them that the city is in danger and that we're not a family of big, fat liars. Easy.”

We waited. The minutes dragged by, impossibly long. Finally, cars started pulling into the long gravel driveway. When Mason saw all the activity outside his window, he hurried downstairs to get in on the action, acting as if all was forgiven.