Scaredy Kat (11 page)

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Jac asked.

Just that asking for his help is the last thing I want to do,
I thought. Maybe it was simply because Orin was a guy. A strange, older, more or less hot guy. Or it might have been because
he was my mom’s friend. A good-looking friend with similar interests. And how was that a problem? I wasn’t sure. But the very
idea of Orin made me feel uncomfortable, the kind of discomfort when you suddenly remember something you forgot to do.

“I just don’t know him very well, Jac. It’s weird. The whole thing makes me kind of uncomfortable.”

“Mmm,” Jac said. “Doesn’t sound like you have much of a choice, though, if you want to help Tank.”

I frowned. I
did
want to help Tank. He was on my mind constantly. I was beginning to think I felt part of his consciousness hovering around
me, very faintly. Like a butterfly.

“Shoot, gotta hop. E-mail me, bye!”

The line went dead. I hoped Jac had not just been pulled out of the closet by her mother. I sent her another e-mail, asking
if she was okay. Then I climbed into bed and lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling.

The next morning, I was awakened by the sound of my mother singing downstairs. I got up, put on my robe, and picked up Orin’s
card from my desk. I grabbed my cell phone, started to dial his number, then snapped the phone shut. I stared at the phone
glumly, then opened it and dialed Jac’s cell phone number. I’d been dialing it periodically since Jac’s mother had taken her
away, and it always went straight to voicemail. But this time, it rang.

“Do
not
ask me how I am,” I heard.

“Jac?”

“This is Jac if you agree not to ask me how I am,” she said.

“I’m just glad I got you,” I said. “I’ve been worried about you. Did your mom catch you?”

“Sort of,” Jac replied. “She caught me in the closet. But I had time to stash the phone in a boot. I told her I could only
listen to Yo-Yo Ma in an extremely enclosed and safe place.”

“Mmmm. Did she buy it?”

“Not likely. But there was no evidence that I was in the closet for any evil reason, so she dropped it. But she’s all over
me now, constantly barging into my room. A girl could get a complex.”

“Is it okay that you’re on the phone now?”

“Oh it’s fine. Even Mommy Dearest has to leave the house sometimes. She’s having her hideous helmet hair varnished, or whatever
they do down at her salon. Then she’s taking her car for a tune-up. I’m good for at least two hours. And like I said, I don’t
want to talk about
her.
”

You just did,
I thought, but I was wise enough to keep it to myself.

“Okay. So I thought it over last night, and I think I’m going to call Orin.”

“Good,” Jac said. “Do you know how to get in touch with him?”

“My mom gave me his card. She said he’d be a good person to go to for help about . . . the kind of stuff I might be having
prob-lems with, if I couldn’t confide in her. But I feel weird about it.”

“Well, presumably if your mom gave you his card, she feels comfortable about him—like he’s not an axe murder or anything.
Obviously your mom thinks highly of him, or she’d never have encouraged you to go to him. That’s a
good
thing, Kat, that she likes him. Or is that the problem? Are you afraid Orin might be stepfather material?”

I opened my mouth to say “Of course not!” but nothing came out. I hadn’t actually realized it ’til Jac said it out loud, but
she’d pinpointed why Orin made me uncomfortable. He seemed sort of cool, and he definitely had things to teach me, but I was
afraid if he were around more, Orin and my mom might end up getting involved, which opened up a can of worms that confused
me, grossed me out, and riled me up in all sorts of ways.

“If we can’t talk about
your
mother, then I don’t think we should talk about mine either,” I said, a tad defensively.

“I wasn’t exactly talking about her, but I get your drift. But Orin’s not your mother, so let’s talk about him.”

I squirmed and said nothing.

“I agree with your intuition. You need to get in touch with Orin so you can figure out the Tank thing. Maybe he knows things
about Tank that you don’t. And vice versa. I think you guys should join forces.”

“Yeah, I know, but I still feel weird about it. Calling some . . . man. It just feels . . . I mean, just because my mother
trusts him . . . I’ll need to get to know him better before I can judge him.”

“I think what you’re saying is you don’t mind getting his help, but you feel weird or embarrassed to be alone with him.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“So see if he can meet you somewhere public. And I’ll go with you. Because then you’ll be comfortable, plus if I don’t get
out of this house I’m going to strangle myself.”

“What about your —”

“Uh uh uh!” Jac warned.

No mother talk.

“You can get away?” I asked.

“My mother can’t possibly get home for at least two hours. Probably more like two and a half. Look, it’s . . . nine fifteen
now. Try and get ahold of this guy, and figure out a place to meet, then call and tell me where.”

“Jac, you’re in so much trouble already. Do you really think it’s a good idea to sneak out again?”

“I think it’s the best. Idea. Ever.” Jac declared. “You know what? I’m leaving the house anyway. Orin or no Orin. I need some
cake. So don’t put this guilt trip on yourself that I’m going to get in trouble because of you. Trust me, I plan on getting
in trouble no matter what. Call him now, okay, Kat?”

I sighed.

“Okay.”

Jac hung up without saying good-bye, which she often does when she’s ready to move on with the next segment of her day. I
picked up Orin’s card again, stared at it for a moment, then dialed.

Orin didn’t sound at all surprised to hear from me. Maybe he had a touch of clairvoyance, or else he was just one of those
people who played it cool. Either way, he acted like he’d been expecting my call.

“So I take it you’re ready to start learning about energy? We can start with how to manage all the spirits trying to get your
attention, but you’re going to need a basic education in the property of psychic energy, too.”

“No, Orin, I don’t . . . I mean, yes, I would like to learn about that stuff. The panic attacks aren’t going away by themselves
or anything. But this isn’t about that.”

“Okay,” Orin said, sort of carefully.

I decided there was no point in a cloak-and-dagger routine. I cut to the chase.

“I’m calling because of Tank.”

There was a pause.

“Tank? I’m sorry, Kat, but you’re taking me by surprise. Did you know him? I thought you moved to Seth Avenue after . . .
after.”

“We did,” I said. “It’s complicated. Um, okay, those panic attacks I’ve been having? That you said are from me blocking spirits
trying to get my attention? It all started inside that house next door. Tank’s house. There’s a reason I keep going back to
that house even though there’s an old man there who terrorized me. It’s because I saw something. I saw Tank, well, Tank from
before the accident, for the first time a couple days ago. Ever since then, I’ve felt like —”

“Wait,” Orin said. “You
saw
Tank?”

I nodded, then remembered I was on the phone and Orin couldn’t see me.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Where was he? What happened?”

“From my room, I can see his window. I was thinking about doing a photography project on the house, because it seemed like
it had a lot of stories to tell. And I saw Tank—actually I accidentally photographed him. That’s what gave me the idea to
go over there the first time. I found his room. It has this sunburst painted on it.”

“Kat, this is important. Did you make contact with Tank? Was he able to communicate with you?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” I said. “I couldn’t. He didn’t seem to see me or know I was there at all. Listen, I’m confused,
Orin. How do
you
know Tank? And if Tank’s alive, who did I see over there? Is it possible his consciousness is traveling while he’s in a coma?”

“Kat, are you willing to go back over to the van Hecht house? I’d like to meet you there.”

I paused. The whole reason I’d called Orin was to suggest we meet. But I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go back to the van
Hecht house, where I was so likely to face the enraged old man again.

“I know it was scary the last time you were there, Kat. I know there’s a particular spirit who’s causing you a great deal
of stress. But I think you might need to face it in order to get past your problem. And in doing so, you may be the only person
who can help me with mine.”

There was another silence.

“Oh man, what am I thinking?” Orin said suddenly. “I’m not thinking, that’s the problem. This must sound . . . Kat, you’re
right to be cautious. You don’t know me and you don’t trust me, and that’s smart of you. You shouldn’t be meeting me alone
in an abandoned house. I’m sure if you ask, your mother would come along. That way, you’d feel safe.”

This was exactly what I did not want—my mother coming along to meet Orin in an old house.

“No,” I said hastily. “I trust you. My mom gave me your card, actually, so . . . I mean, it’s okay, anyway. My friend Jac
will be with me. I’ll meet you on the van Hecht’s back porch in an hour, okay?”

“Well —”

“An hour, okay?” I repeated.

Orin said okay, and I hung up before he could bring my mother up again. I walked to the window and stared out at the van Hecht
house.

I turned away from the window, picked up my phone, and dialed Jac’s number.

Rather than explain Jac’s presence to my mother, which would probably involve more lying, I told Jac to go straight around
the back of the van Hecht house to the porch. I wasn’t expecting her to beat me there, so when she said hello as I was opening
the porch door, I squealed.

“Ha! Scaredy Kat.”

“Oh, stop. You’d scream, too, if I jumped out of the shadows at you,” I grumbled, opening the porch door and going in.

“I didn’t jump out of anything,” Jac said cheerfully. “I didn’t move a muscle. I said ‘hiya,’ and you made a sound like a
kitten on a roller coaster. A biiiiiiig kitten with a healthy pair of lungs.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. Then I gestured toward the kitchen.

“The last time I was here, Jac, every cabinet door in that kitchen banged open and shut by itself.”

Jac paused to consider this, peering in through the window.

“Cool,” she said.

I was tempted to tell Jac I saw a bee. That would plant the ball of terror firmly in her court. But I resisted the urge.

“So, are you okay?” I asked.

Jac gave me a sideways look, then got up and rehung the wind chimes, brushing her fingers through them and making them sound
lightly.

“Not really,” Jac said.

“What can I do?” I asked. I studied her little face in profile, her red hair clipped short to reveal tiny ears, and her upturned
nose looking especially elfin today. She looked tired.

“Just this,” Jac replied, sweeping her hand toward the interior of the van Hecht house. “Be your unpredictable explosive supernatural
self. Call me to come along on your adventures. Help me to forget about the cello, and about . . . her. It’s such a relief
not to have to be that version of me, even if it’s just for a while. I hope we run into a whole team of vampires in there,
Kat. Seriously. The freakier, the better.”

I smiled.

“Happy to be of service,” I said. “And welcome to Kat’s House of Terror.”

Jac grinned.

“Now all we need is your hottie healer friend. Where is he, anyway?”

“I’m right here,” came a deep voice.

Jac and I both jumped. The screen door opened.

“Hi,” Orin said. “Sorry if I’m late.”

I shook my head.

“You’re not late,” I mumbled. “Um, this is my friend Jac.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Orin said. Then he grinned.

Had he heard Jac call him the “hottie healer”? He must have. My face was burning, and I was sure it was flushed a bright red.