My Name Is Evil (4 page)

“It's not there,” Jackie said.

“Whoa. Wait a minute,” I said. I turned the box again and slid open the lid. “No. Not there. Hold on.”

I raised my eyes to Jackie. She was glaring at me impatiently. “Maggie—?”

My chin trembled. “It's in here. I know it is!”

I turned the box and opened it again. No. I opened both sides. I slid open the secret compartment. No.

“Oh, wow!” I cried. “Oh, wow. Jackie—I—I'm so sorry! I don't know where it went!”

With an angry cry Jackie jumped up from the couch. She grabbed the box from my hands and examined it. “Maggie, is this some kind of a joke?”

I couldn't keep up the act any longer. I laughed. “Of course it is!” I exclaimed. “It's a magic trick—right? Look in your pocket.”

Jackie squinted at me suspiciously. “Huh?”

I pointed. “Look in your pocket.”

She reached into her T-shirt pocket and pulled out the necklace.

“Wow!” Judy clapped her hands.

“That's so totally wild!” Jilly declared. “You're good, Maggie. You're really good!”

I took a quick bow.

But then I saw Jackie still glaring at me. “I think it was mean,” she said through her teeth. She carefully returned the necklace to her neck.

“It was just a trick!” I protested. “Besides, it's not as mean as making someone's pants fall down!”

“But you know how much this necklace means to me,” Jackie said. “It's the most beautiful thing I own.”

“Yes, it's beautiful,” I agreed. I sighed. “I wish I had one like it. I'd never take mine off, either.”

Jackie eyed me suspiciously. Finally a smile crossed her lips. “Well, if it ever really disappears, I'll know who swiped it!”

I laughed at that, along with Judy and Jilly.

I had no way of knowing that Jackie's necklace would disappear for real just a few days later.

Jilly brought paper plates and cans of Diet Coke from the kitchen. We each took pizza slices and carried them back to the living room to chow down.

“Maggie, do another trick,” Jilly urged.

“No. Turn on the TV,” Judy said. “See if there are any good movies on.”

Jackie glanced at the clock on the mantel. “It's pretty late,” she said to me. “Think you should call your mom or something? Tell her you're still here?”

“No. She had to work tonight,” I replied. My mom is a nurse at Cedar Bay General. She has a different work schedule every week.

I started to lift my pizza slice to my mouth—when I felt a hard bump—like a heavy brick landing on my lap. “Plumper!” I cried. The pizza slice started to fall. I made a wild grab for it.

Judy's enormous orange-and-white cat pushed its fat body against my side.

“Plumper—get down!” Judy ordered. “Get off Maggie!”

Of course the cat ignored her.

The cat burrowed its fat head into my lap. “I don't believe this!” I cried to Judy. “Why does he always pick on me?”

“Plumper knows you don't like him,” Judy replied.

“He's just so big and heavy, and he always jumps on me, and—and—” I sneezed hard. Once. And then sneezed again.

“You don't have to sneeze like that. We know you're allergic to cats!” Jackie said.

“Oh, yuck!” I cried. I held up my pizza slice. It had clumps of orange fur stuck all over it.

The cat stretched its paws over my lap.

“Plumper—what did you do?” Judy scolded. “Just shove him away, Maggie. You've got to be firm. Just push him.”

I hesitated. I felt about to sneeze again. The cat was so heavy on my lap. Finally I gave him a soft shove. “Go away, Plumper. Go.”

To my surprise, he tossed back his head, bared his teeth, and let out a long, frightening hiss.

Before I could move, the big cat swiped its claws over my arm.

“Owww!” I let out a scream. The pizza slice fell to the floor.

The cat hissed again, louder. It lowered its head—and tried to sink its teeth into my arm.

With a cry, I leaped up.

I tried to back away, but stumbled over the coffee table.

Hissing furiously, the cat dived for me. Swiped both front paws over my jeans legs, clawing, snapping its jaws.

I fell hard onto my back. And before I could roll or spin away, the cat was on top of me. Hissing so loudly, so furiously. Hissing like an angry snake. And clawing, clawing at my face. Climbing over me. Clawing. Biting.

“Help me!” I shrieked. “Help! He's trying to kill me!”

“Plumper!” I could hear Judy scream. She sounded so far away. “Plumper—what's wrong with you!”

I raised both arms to protect my face.

The cat furiously clawed at my sleeves. Snapping. Crying. Hissing with such anger.

Judy grabbed the cat. Tossed him over her shoulder. And hurried out of the room, holding him like a big bag of laundry.

“Ohhhh.” I let out a groan.

I struggled slowly to my feet. My whole body trembled.

“I never saw Plumper do that before!” Jilly declared, taking my arm.

Jackie hurried over to me. “Are you okay? Maggie? Are you cut?”

I checked myself out. My clothes were covered in orange fur. “I-I guess I'm all right,” I said shakily.

“You have a small scratch on your hand,” Jackie reported, checking me out. “But he didn't break the skin.”

“Stupid, crazy cat,” Jilly muttered. She started to pull clumps of fur off me.

Judy returned, shaking her head, pulling cat fur off her sweater. “I had to lock him in the back. That was so weird!”

“He's never done anything like that before,” Jilly said. “He's always just fat, lazy, and contented.”

“So why did he go berserk and attack Maggie like that?” Judy asked, her voice trembling.

Jackie's dark eyes lit up. “Because Maggie is evil!” she declared. “EVIL!”

Her two sisters laughed.

But I didn't think it was funny.

“I'm not evil!” I protested shrilly. “That cat is evil!”

“I'll keep him away from you from now on,” Judy promised, biting her bottom lip. “I—I don't know what made him do that. He just went … nuts. It's so weird. So weird …”

I turned and saw Jackie staring at me, studying me intently. “What are you thinking?” I demanded.

She blinked. “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.”

I left their house a few minutes later. I didn't feel like eating pizza anymore. I kept picturing the slice with the orange fur stuck in the sauce.

The night air had cooled off a bit, but it still felt heavy and damp. Yellow-gray clouds covered the sky, hiding the moon and stars.

I still felt shaky as I turned toward my house. My shoes scraped the sidewalk as I walked, the only sound except for the soft whisper of the trees.

That was so horrifying! I thought. The cat always sat in my lap before. Why did it decide to attack me tonight?

“Because you're EVIL!” Jackie had said.

It wasn't funny. It was so totally insane.

I'm not evil. I've never done anything evil. In fact, I'm the least evil person I know!

Jackie is more evil than I am, I told myself. She is. She definitely has a mean sense of humor.

Rigging Glen's Tarzan costume like that. Embarrassing him in front of the whole school. Pretending she was going to force me to get a tattoo tonight.

That's really evil.

Well … no.

I changed my mind. It's not evil. It's … mischievous, that's all.

Was tonight another one of Jackie's “mischievous” jokes? I wondered. Did she pay Miss Elizabeth to say those things about me? Jackie swore she didn't.

I thought about the fortune-teller. Pictured her solemn face again, leaning into the red glow of her crystal ball.

Why did she say I was evil? Why did she say that about me?

Why did she pick me?

Ask her, I thought. Just ask her, Maggie.

Make her explain. Then you'll never have to think about it again.

I stopped at the corner. A car rolled past, music blaring from the open window. I waited for it to pass, then took a few more steps—and stopped in the middle of the street.

My house was one block away. The carnival at the pier was four blocks in the other direction.

Go ahead, I urged myself. Go to the carnival. Get it out of your mind for good.

“Okay, I'm going,” I whispered. I turned and started toward the pier.

I'm going to tell Miss Elizabeth how cruel that was, I decided. I'm going to tell her that she ruined my birthday with that lame act.

Another car rolled past, this one filled with teenagers. A boy yelled something out the window. I ignored him and kept walking.

I stopped under a streetlamp to check my watch. A little before midnight. My mom would probably kill me if she knew I was walking around by myself this late.

“Hey, I'm thirteen now,” I said out loud. “I'm not a kid.”

The carnival was probably closing down. I hoped Miss Elizabeth was still there. I began to feel angrier and angrier. People go to a carnival for fun—not to be frightened or insulted.

A strong wind came up, blowing against me, pushing me back. I leaned into it and kept going.

I reached the pier. It was nearly deserted. A few couples were leaving the carnival, carrying armloads of stuffed-animal prizes. The ticket booth stood empty. The entrance gate was open.

As I stepped through it, all of the lights dimmed. I blinked in the sudden darkness.

An empty Pepsi can rattled over the ground in a gust of wind. It rolled at my feet and I jumped over it.

The carnival music had been turned off, but the loudspeakers crackled with static. And over the sound of the static, I could hear the steady slap of water against the pier.

Workers closed up the game booths. Most of the booths were already dark and deserted. A young man was pulling a wooden gate over the front of his booth. He looked up when he saw me walk past. “Hey—we're closed,” he called.

“I know,” I called back. “I'm … uh … looking for somebody.”

The crackling static in the loudspeakers grew louder as I made my way to the end of the pier. From nearby I heard a low howl.

An animal howl?

The wind through the pier planks?

More lights flickered out. Darkness washed over me. Someone in the distance laughed, a high, cold laugh.

I shivered. Maybe this was a mistake.

I heard scraping footsteps behind me.

I spun around. Just dead brown leaves, scuttling on the pier in a swirl of wind.

The empty cars on the roller-coaster track gleamed dully in the dim light. I heard a squeaking sound. The tracks rattled as if being shaken.

Finally the fortune-teller's tent came into view at the end of the pier.

I swallowed hard. My heart began to race.

I stopped outside the entrance. The tent flap had been pulled shut. Was she in there?

I had been rehearsing what I'd say to Miss Elizabeth. But now it all flew out of my mind.

I'll just ask her why she said that about me, I decided. That's all. I'll just ask her why.

I took a deep breath. Then I grabbed the tent flap with both hands and pulled it open.

“Hello?” I called in. My voice sounded tiny. “Anyone in here? Miss Elizabeth? Are you here?”

No answer.

I stepped inside—and let out a shocked gasp.

One of the two lanterns remained on the tent wall, casting the only light. I spotted the other lantern, the glass cracked, on its side on the ground.

The wooden table was overturned. A leg broken off.

Next to it, one of the fortune-teller's long, silky scarves lay torn and crumpled into a ball.

The chairs—the two wooden chairs were splintered and broken. The poster of the human hand had been ripped in half.

And the red glass ball—shattered—shards of broken glass over the tent floor. The ball—the crystal ball—smashed into a thousand pieces.