Kindred Spirits (10 page)

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Authors: Phoebe Rivers

BOOK: Kindred Spirits
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“So, who here has seen the movie
Mind Over Matter
?” Lily asked. Only half of us had, so Lily enthusiastically recounted the story of the movie, which had been a big hit about two years ago. In it,
the main character has a lot of different paranormal abilities, including the ability to move objects with his mind. I knew from what I had learned from Lady Azura this meant the character had telekinesis, but I didn't offer that.

“Did you just see this or something?” Luke asked a little impatiently as Lily went into great detail about the movie plot.

Lily shot Luke a look that told him to be patient and continued with her story. “But at the end, the guy did the most amazing thing. He was sitting in a restaurant, just like this, and he placed a metal spoon in his hand. Without touching it, he made the spoon curl up. All of his friends were totally amazed.”

“Curl up how?” Avery asked.

“Bend and curl into a circle,” Lily explained.

“That's so not possible,” Luke said.

“Yes, it is,” Lily said. “The movie was based on actual events, so it really happened. Plus, I've been practicing mind bending at home. You need a lot of inner calm and positive energy.”

Luke held up a spoon. “Okay, birthday girl, show us your stuff.”

“It's not so easy. I've gotten close, but—”

“No excuses,” Luke taunted. “Give it a bend.”

Lily held the spoon in front of her nose. She stared intently at it. We all watched. Avery giggled, but Mason shushed her.

I licked my dry lips and waited, watching the spoon.

Could Lily do it?

The spoon stayed straight.

“Around the bend. Bend over backward. Bend it like—”

“Stop it, Luke,” Lily said. “It's going to happen. I just need quiet.”

Luke raised his hands in surrender. We all continued to watch Lily stare at the stiff spoon. Her expression grew serious. She was rarely serious. This meant a lot to her.

I focused on the spoon. I wanted it to bend.

I wanted it to bend for Lily.

I wanted it to bend so Lily and I would be the same.

I concentrated all my energy on the spoon. I could sense that Lily had relaxed her focus, so I increased mine. I really wanted it to bend.

Bend,
I thought.
Bend.

And then it did. The metal seemed to soften, and the bowl part of the spoon leaned to the left.

We all sucked in our breath. For a moment no one dared to speak. Then everyone exclaimed at once. Lily inspected the spoon, amazed at what she'd done.

Beads of sweat gathered along my hairline. My skin burned with a peculiar internal fire. I gazed at the spoon. Lily hadn't been the one to bend it. I was sure of that much.

Had I done it? I had been concentrating on it. I was pretty sure it had been me. I had done it.

I was the one with telekinesis.

Lady Azura would be so excited. I was the first in the family.

I felt his eyes on me.

Mason wasn't staring at the spoon like everyone else. He was staring at me. His piercing gaze traveled to the spoon, then back to me. He raised his pale eyebrows.

As if he knew.

Chapter 12

Our group marched together from Lenny's Pizzeria toward the red lights of Midnight Manor. Lily's mom led the way, and her dad and Buddy brought up the rear. Mason trailed behind me with some of the other boys. My skin tingled, knowing that he continued to stare at me.

What was he looking for?

Over our laughter and chatter, the Atlantic crashed along the beach. High tide had brought the ocean closer to the boardwalk tonight. The sun began to set, coloring the sky pink. Midnight Manor loomed before us.

I didn't want to go inside.

My mind churned with excuses. Just the thought of the horrors that waited made my skin crawl. But how could I disappoint Lily on her birthday? I was stuck.

“Hey, Sara, were you listening?” Avery gently tugged my purple patent wristlet with my money and phone. “Mrs. Randazzo is collecting all the presents and bringing them to Scoops, so we don't have to carry them through the haunted house. Lily's going to open them later when we go for ice cream.”

“Oh no!” I stopped. “I left my present at home.”

“That's okay. Give it to Lily tomorrow,” Avery said.

“I really wanted to give it to her tonight. It's her birthday today, not tomorrow.” What kind of best friend was I? I blamed Henry for pounding on the door and rattling me.

“I could come with you,” Mason said over my shoulder.

“Come where?” I turned to face him.

“To get Lily's present. We could walk to your house now and meet up with everyone at Scoops.”

“But you'd miss Midnight Manor,” Avery pointed out.

Mason shrugged. “Opening presents is a big deal, isn't it?”

Why was he suddenly being nice? I'd never met a boy as confusing as Mason.

Then it hit me. He'd given me the perfect excuse to avoid the haunted house.

“I can go by myself.” I didn't need Mason tagging along, staring and scowling at me. Or even worse, asking me how I'd bent that spoon. I went to find Mr. and Mrs. Randazzo.

They hated the idea. They refused to let me walk home by myself, even though it was only a couple of blocks.

Mason appeared by my side. “I can walk with her. My asthma gets really bad in there, anyway, because of the smoke machines.”

“That's so nice of you,” Mrs. Randazzo cooed.

He wasn't being nice, I realized. Mason was scared to go into Midnight Manor too. He'd pretended the other day that he wasn't, but I knew better.

It worked. With our promises to stay together, Mason and I were given permission to run back and get Lily's present. Mr. Randazzo handed Mason Buddy's leash. He asked us to walk the dog back to the Randazzos' house, where Lily's aunt was watching her brothers and sister. Lily's dad wanted to experience the “spookified” Midnight Manor.

All along the boardwalk, down Beach Drive and onto Ocean Grove Road, Mason and I only talked about the dog. We avoided everything else, especially the bending spoon. I'd never been so happy to have Buddy with me.

“I'll wait out here with Buddy,” Mason said, when I stopped in front of our weathered yellow Victorian. The house had probably been grand a hundred years ago with its walk-out balconies, octagonal turret, and sweeping front porch. Now it just looked old.

“Out here? Why? Buddy can come inside.”

“Just feel like it.” His gaze landed on the sign.
PSYCHIC, HEALER, MYSTIC.

“Lady Azura won't mind.” A car was parked by the curb. “She never comes out when she has a client. My dad's at a business dinner.”

He hesitated.

“Look at Buddy. He's panting. He needs water. Come on.” I grabbed Buddy's leash and led him up the front path, onto the porch, and into the house. Mason followed. We tiptoed past Lady Azura's purple curtain.

Mason dumped his black backpack onto the kitchen table as I filled a bowl at the sink. We both
watched Buddy slurp the water. Neither of us knew what to say. In the small kitchen, I was aware of Mason standing close to me. The warm flush started in my palms. It snaked its way up my arms.

Why did I get this way? Could he tell?

I needed to say something to break the silence.

“What are those?” I pointed to a row of metallic pins lining the shoulder strap of his bag.

“My uncle, my mom's brother, is a pilot. He flies all over the world. He sends them to me. They're all from cool foreign airlines.” He pointed to one. “This is from Air Tanzania. This one is from Royal Bhutan Airlines.”

“That's neat,” I said as Mason and Buddy climbed the stairs to the third floor with me. Dwight and Eleanor stood on the stairs, peering behind the framed coastal watercolors that hung on the stairwell walls. They moved aside for us, and I ignored them. “The farthest away I've ever been is California and Hawaii.”

“Uncle Will once flew me to London,” Mason said.

“What's London like?” I asked. We'd entered the crafts room. Mason described Piccadilly Circus and Big Ben. I heard the words, but I couldn't make sense
of them. My body prickled with static. Every nerve stood at attention.

The walls of my craft room, always yellow, now glowed in brilliant rays. The swirly rainbow of my screen saver radiated, bursting from the monitor. Salt and decaying seaweed rose in a pungent wave from the collection of clamshells on the table.

What was going on? I'd never felt like this before. Did it have to do with spirits?

“Doggie!”

Henry's delighted cry ripped through my thoughts and jolted me out of my stupor.

I spun around.

The closet door stood open.

Henry's translucent body vibrated with joy as he spotted Buddy.

Mason peered into the closet. He held tight to Buddy's leash, keeping the dog just out of Henry's reach. “You've got a lot of art stuff.”

“Nosy much?” I croaked, gaping at Henry.

Mason shrugged and walked to the window. Lights twinkled far out on the bay. “Those crabbing boats are late coming in,” he remarked.

“Doggie!” Henry squealed again.

Buddy didn't seem to hear or sense Henry today. He didn't wag his tail. He stayed by Mason's side, loyal to his original boy. In a contest between Mason and Henry for Buddy's affection, Mason was the hands-down winner. And Henry did not like that.

He let out a cry of anguish. “Dog! Mine!” His eyes blazed, and he fixed a gaze of betrayal on Mason.

I needed to get Henry back in the closet. Fast!

Buddy rubbed up against Mason's leg. Mason leaned down and scratched his side as he continued to look out the window. Henry moved toward them. He glared at Mason as he reached for the dog.

Instinctively, I snatched Buddy's leash.

Mason whirled on me. “What are you doing?”

My skin burned with his gaze. “Let's decorate Buddy's collar. As a surprise for Lily,” I quickly suggested. It was all I could think of. I led the dog toward the closet.

Henry followed. I knew he would.

“Now?” Mason crossed his arms. “Just grab the present. We're going to miss the ice cream, and that's the best part . . . even though you have such terrible
taste in ice cream,” he teased.

Why was he choosing now to suddenly act like the boy I'd been hoping for? Friendly. Nice.

“But I have an idea.” I didn't really, but I'd come up with something, then shut Henry inside. I scanned the shelves.

Henry bent in the doorway and wrapped his arms around Buddy, burying his face into his fur. “Mine. Mine.”

Mason stepped around me and into the closet. “Here. Tie this ribbon around him like he's a gift.” He reached for a large spool of sheer red ribbon. It began to unravel on the floor.

“Whoa.” I dropped Buddy's leash, as I fell to my knees to grab the falling ribbon.

The closet door slammed shut with a deafening bang.

“Hey!” I stood in complete darkness.

“What's going on?” Mason cried beside me.

Groping in the blackness, I heard scraping. Something heavy was being dragged across the floor. Then a
thump
, as it was pushed up against the other side of the door.

My hand found the smooth metal doorknob. It twisted, but the door wouldn't budge.

“I can't open it.” I tried again.

“Let me.” Mason's breathed on my neck. His arm brushed mine. It was like touching an electrical current.

I moved aside as his hand covered the knob. He pushed the door with his shoulder.

“Something's wedged against it.” He grunted as he tried again. “How can that be?”

Buddy barked on the other side of the door. My throat tightened. We were locked in a tiny dark space. No one knew we were up here.

Henry had tricked us.

Chapter 13

I stood on my toes and grasped blindly. My fingers fluttered overhead.

Mason was so close to me.

The end of the cord tickled my fingertips. I yanked it, flooding the closet with light.

“That's better.” Mason inspected the knob, then threw his side against the door. The door still didn't move. “This makes no sense. Buddy didn't do this.”

“Where's your cell?” I asked.

“In my bag. In your kitchen.” He groaned. “What about you?”

“In my bag. Also in the kitchen.”

“We'll have to scream for your great-grandmother,” he suggested, still pushing at the door.

“Lady Azura will never hear us. Her hearing is bad. Even if she did, she can't make it up all the stairs.” I
leaned my back against the shelves. “We're trapped.”

“No, we're not!” He suddenly sounded frantic. He kicked at the door.

Buddy barked. He was still here. That meant Henry hadn't left.

“We've got to get out of here.” Mason kept kicking. His frustration made the small space grow even smaller. The sleeve of his green T-shirt brushed my arm. His black sneaker stepped on my sandal.

“There's not enough room,” he mumbled. The air grew stale and hot. His breathing grew faster as he pounded. “I hate small spaces.” I saw beads of perspiration pop out on his forehead.

The supplies on the shelves rattled with his movements. Containers fell over. The air swirled with feathers, cotton balls, and dust.

“Just stop moving so much,” I cried. My heart was hammering now.

“Why can't we get out?” he demanded. “What's going on?”

Buddy barked crazily on the other side.

Mason began wheezing.

“What's wrong? What's wrong?” I asked.

“Asthma,” he managed. Desperately he struggled to fill his lungs.

I pushed aside a pile of feathers and pulled him to the floor. “You need to sit. Where's your inhaler?”

“Backpack.” He kept wheezing. Short, ragged sounds. “There's no room in here.”

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