A Midsummer Night's Scream (18 page)

“Maybe in a movie where everyone doesn’t die,” I said.

She shoved me toward the wall. We were sitting practically on top of each other.

Mopping my wet eyes with the napkin, I turned to Ross. “You weren’t at Annalee’s funeral.”

He swallowed. “I couldn’t. My dad took us all up to Sonoma. On a wine-tasting thing.”

My mouth dropped open. “Seriously? Your dad goes on those touristy wine tours?”

Ross took the last bite of Delia’s cheesecake. “You’re joking, right? This was with the owner of the winery. He took us to this private dining room where they have all these secret reserve wines no one ever gets to drink. You know my dad. He wouldn’t go unless it was top-of-the-line high-class. Then he can brag to all his douchebag friends.”

“And he let you drink wine, too?” I asked.

“Are you
kidding
? He let my little sister drink. Amy is only ten.” Ross snickered. “She threw up in the car.” He slid my plate in front of him. “Why were you two laughing so hard?”

“Because we’re crazy,” Delia said.

He nodded. “I know. Everyone knows that.”

“We’ve been kind of … messed up,” I said. “The whole thing with the movie. It was horrible.”

“Now it’s over, right?” He started in on my slice.

I nodded. “My parents and Jake’s parents … everyone decided to stop the movie. The police are all over the studio. FBI, too.”

“They’re talking like it could be murder,” Delia said. “Like someone deliberately caused the accidents.”

Ross set down his fork. “For real?”

“How else can you explain what happened?” Delia said. “You don’t believe in the Curse of Mayhem Manor, do you? It had to be some sick creep murdering us one by one just like it happened in the first movie.”

“Whoa.” Ross lowered his eyes to the table. “Whoa. And you two could have been next.”

A long silence followed. I mean, what can you say?

Finally, Ross sat up straight and stretched. He swept a hand back through his hair. “Claire, is your party still on?”

I nodded. “Still on.”

“And it’s still at the studio?”

“My parents insisted,” I said. “They say they want me to have the biggest birthday party in history. You’re coming, right?”

“For sure. Wouldn’t miss it.” He glanced at his phone. “But you’re not having it at Mayhem Manor, are you?”

“No way,” I said. “No one is going near that horrible old place. I promise.”

Ross started in on my cheesecake again. Delia was texting someone on her phone. My cheeks itched from all the tears. I knew I must look awful. I slid out of the booth. “Be right back.”

Ross nodded, happily pigging out.

I gazed around till I saw the sign for the restrooms. I followed it down a long, narrow hall. I could see the ladies’ room at the back.

I edged to the side when I saw someone walking toward me. He came really close before I recognized him.

Puckerman.

His black hair poked out in all directions on his head. He wore a tight, sleeveless t-shirt that revealed the curly black hair on his chest and his arms. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his baggy pants.

He grinned up at me. “Hi, Claire.”

I gasped. “What are
you
doing here?” My voice came out a choked whisper.

The smile faded beneath his thick beard. “Thanks for coming to Mayhem Manor the other night. You passed the test.”

“So you
were
there!” I cried. “Why—?”

“Don’t ask questions. We haven’t finished our movie,” he said in a low growl. Then I saw a flash of gray. It took me a few seconds to realize he had sprinkled something on me. On my hair. A powder. A fine gray powder.

“What
is
that? What did you just do?”

“Claire, it’s an invitation. A dose of my summoning potion. It will bring you to me.”

“But—but—Bring me to you
when
?”

“On Midsummer Night’s eve, of course.”

“No. No way. You can’t—”

“You can’t escape. We have to finish the film—
don’t
we?”

34

MIDSUMMER NIGHT

MY PARENTS WENT WILD, TURNING the studio into an awesome party-land for my big night. I think they’d do anything to make it look like a happy place again. You know. Get people laughing and oohing and ahhing and thinking they were like at Disneyland and maybe not think about the horrible deaths for one night.

Sure, there were more security guards at the gate than usual. But once you drove inside, you were overcome by dancing lights and sparkly fairy wings on all the trees and people walking around in weird Shakespeare-type costumes.

The studio had been transformed into a dream of fairies in the woods, and people floating by in glittery robes and crowns, a fantasy world of music and mist and fun.

Before the party, my parents gave me a bright-red VW Jetta. They said it was a good starter car. I wasn’t expecting a car, and I went a little nuts when they handed over the key. I mean, was I a bit emotional? Maybe.

I insisted that Delia and I test it out, so she and I took a drive up into the Hollywood Hills, and I admit it—I drove like a crazy person. Those NASCAR dudes need to take lessons from
me
. Delia left wet fingerprints on the dashboard. Really.

Somehow we made it back. But whipping around the hills like it was a thrill ride, I just had the powerful, overwhelming feeling I had to break free. Ever feel like that?

For sure, I’m a little wired these days. Can you blame me?

Anyway, party night. The studio looked
amazing
. A dance floor had been built in the plaza near the exec parking lot, and by eight o’clock, kids were already dancing under moving green laser lights to a band of five or six long-haired guys in white tuxedos.

I wore a perfect white party dress Delia and I had picked out at Barneys. The skirt only came down to midthigh, but the dress was loose and just flowed, and I thought it looked very Shakespearean, in keeping with the theme of the night.

Jake and Shawn arrived early. Shawn kept following me around like he was my date for the evening. Fat chance.

I danced with him once just to get him out of the way. He was a terrible dancer. He had no sense of rhythm at all and kept clapping off the beat as he danced.

“I know these dudes who have a guitar band,” he said. “I mean, like all guitars, and they play the most awesome surf rock. I mean classic. Like Dick Dale or The Surfaris. They would have been perfect for tonight. I tried to call you, but—”

“People can’t dance to that stuff,” I said.

He squinted at me. “You mean people really want to dance to this electro-synth-euro-pop stuff?”

I kissed him on the cheek. You know. Give him a thrill. And I hurried away.

Where was Jake? I moved through the crowd, searching for him. Outside Soundstage A, I saw Ace, in all his mutt glory, surrounded by kids. The dog was bopping around on his hind legs, hamming it up like always. He knew he was a star, and he made the most of it. No joke. He lapped up all the attention.

My mom says the dog is a better actor than half the people who work at the studio.

A girl was feeding biscuits to the cute little guy, and he kept dancing for more.

The sparkly white lights glimmered as a warm breeze shook the trees. Two beacons, the ones they use at movie premieres, sent rays of light high in the sky. A spotlight was aimed at a movie marquee, which proclaimed:
SWEET SEVENTEEN, STARRING CLAIRE WOODLAWN
in bold black letters.

Other spotlights poured white circles of light over the crowds of kids. It was brighter than daylight. Unreal. Two bearded elves in dark tights and leafy tops ran by. And a woman with wide rhinestone-sparkly wings appeared to float along the exec cottages.

It really
is
like a dream,
I thought.

Like being in a distant land. Or maybe in the Shakespeare play, all a fantasy with strange creatures floating and flying. Magic.

Two more elves scampered by. And a tall bear-creature carrying one of those shepherd hooks. A ska band was playing outside the commissary. Kids were lined up to get inside for food. I saw another line at a taco truck set up at the side of the building.

No sign of Jake.

I hung out with friends from school. I danced with some guys I knew. I had a slice of pizza and a few tacos and a lot of other junk. A million kisses and hugs and birthday wishes.

I guess hours went by. I kind of lost track of the time. That’s how good the party was.

But then … then …

How did we decide to go to Mayhem Manor?

It’s all kind of a blur. It was like the strings of twinkling lights and the music and the voices rocked my brain. Everything became a white, bright blur, shimmering and shaking in my head.

I actually think it was my idea. Yes. Really. I think it was.

Shawn and Jake came bopping up to me. I was dancing with a guy from school. Jake stepped between us and pulled me aside. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

“Really?” That brought a smile to my face. “I’ve been looking for you, too.”

“This dude sold me a cooler of Rolling Rock,” Shawn interrupted. “We can’t let it go to waste, right?”

“How did he get it through security?” I asked.

My parents wanted everything to go perfectly smooth tonight, so they didn’t want anyone drinking. They were playing it more careful than ever. The security guards were told to take away anything that looked suspicious.

“We’ve got to find a place where no one will get in our faces,” Shawn said. “Then we can par-tee.” He glanced around. “Where can we go?”

I stared at him. “How about Mayhem Manor?” I said.

Where did the idea come from? I didn’t even think about it. I felt pulled there, as if I’d been summoned. Weird.

“Huh?” Jake squinted at me. “You really want to go there? I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” I said. “I feel … I feel … like I
have
to be there tonight.” I flashed Jake a smile. “Like … it’s
calling
to me.”

Delia looked unhappy. She said something in my ear. I couldn’t hear her. “Nothing bad can happen on my birthday,” I told her. I turned to Jake. “Maybe I’ll get my birthday wish tonight.”
Hint, hint.

“Maybe,” he said. I could see he had no clue what I was talking about.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Shawn disappeared behind the taco truck and returned carrying a Styrofoam cooler. The four of us made our way to the back lot, where all the twinkling lights stopped.

The air grew way colder. We were moving through darkness now, the party far behind us. I thought there might be security guards, but I didn’t see any.

I could feel my excitement rising as we tore down the yellow police tape at the front of the old mansion. I felt totally pumped. I felt giddy. I felt
crazy
.

I tried the door.

It opened easily. So dark and cold inside. I slid my hand along the wall until I clicked on ceiling lights in the front entryway.

And there we were. The four of us inside the old mansion. The scene of so much horror. But tonight, just a celebration.

I slid my hand under Jake’s arm and led the way toward the front room. Suddenly, I had an idea. A crazy thought that popped into my head from out of nowhere.

I let go of Jake and spun back to the front door. “I’ll be right back,” I said. “Save me a beer.”

And then I took off, trotting to the door, my party dress swirling around me as I ran.

I heard Delia start after me. “Claire?” she shouted. “Where are you going? Claire? Come back!”

I burst through the open door and kept running.

35

MAGIC TIME

WHY DID I SUGGEST WE BREAK in to Mayhem Manor? That’s the
last
place I wanted to be. I didn’t even think before I heard the words spilling from my mouth.

Go to Mayhem Manor? Really? It was as if someone had cast a spell on me, had
forced
me to go back there.

And then I had
another
bad idea. So bad it was good.

The magic of the whole night, the whole dreamy movie studio setting had washed over my brain. The lights, the elves and other creatures darting through the crowd, the fairies floating in the trees. It was my fantasy night, a night
anything
could happen.

And as I ran out of the old mansion and back into the sparkly fairyland filled with loud music and laughing voices, I had the feeling I could get one more wish. I could make one more impossible thing happen before my party ended and the real world came crashing down over me again.

Crazy. Claire, you’re seriously MENTAL!

That’s what part of me said. But the other part said,
Go for it!

And there I was, running through the crowd, waving to some kids coming out of the commissary, dodging around a guy swinging a big guitar case over his shoulder, stopping while an elf darted in front of me, carrying a slice of pizza on a plate.

I made my way past the executive cottages. The lights were still brighter than day, but there weren’t many people. Not much happening back here. And a few seconds later, the wardrobe building rose up at the end of the street.

My heart started to beat a little faster, and I had a tingly feeling all over my body.
It has to be here,
I told myself.
Tonight, it has to be here
.

Holding my breath, I turned and made my way to the side of the wardrobe building. And,
yes,
there it was. Puckerman’s trailer. The trailer of magic potions. A bright light on in the small window.

Yes! I was counting on the magic of the night. Counting that the magic would spread itself everywhere. I know I wasn’t thinking clearly. I wasn’t trying to think at all. I was driven by a hunch, a brain wave from I-don’t-know-where.

I ran to the trailer and climbed the steps. I pulled open the door. I stumbled inside—and
there they were!

The shelves from floor to ceiling. The shelves filled with colorful little jars and bottles. All of the potions, Puckerman’s precious potions, all magically here again.