Spirit’s Key (15 page)

“She's not going to hurt you,” I tell her. “She's dead.”

Tomasena continues screaming and runs back a few yards.

“Don't touch it. It's icky!” Kelvin yells when Nector and I move to put it on the blanket.

“We have to,” I say. “We have to burn it.”

“Throw a match on it and run,” Kelvin suggests. He's only seven, so he probably doesn't realize the consequences of something like that. Unlike Mrs. Borse, who should know better.

“We have to take it to the beach,” Nector says, “unless you want your house to burn down.”

Kelvin looks terrified at the mention of what I predicted. He backs away with his hands up like we'll make it come true on purpose.

“We'll be careful,” I say. “We're not going to be the ones who start that fire.”

Kelvin nods, but it gets me thinking. Who will?

Sky follows us to the beach. He watches as we put his relative on the pallet, light the wood, and push her body out to sea. As we're walking back, I'm deep in thought about how I'm going to get to the whale station to see Dad. I have to avoid the woods. But I need something sturdier than a raft to go around the island from the beach. Sky's friends appear. They dance anxiously at my feet like they want me to hurry up and figure it out.

“You know anyone with a boat I could use?” I ask Nector.

“Eder's got a big pile of boats, but he doesn't like anyone else sailing them.”

I nod.

“Seems like everyone I know is still saving their money for one since the last hurricane. Mr. Selnick used to have one. His got wrecked. The Fishbornes used to have an extra I'd borrow sometimes, but it's on the bottom of the ocean, too. They've got the oyster boat, but they use that every day for fishing.” He pauses a moment, then he says, “Yup, everyone I know is saving up for a boat but me.”

“What are you saving for?”

“You'll laugh,” he says.

“I will not.”

“It's okay if you do,” Nector says. “Everyone laughs when I tell them that I'm putting pennies in a pig to buy an airplane.”

“A real one?”

He nods. “And I know I need flying lessons. And I know it's expensive. And I know I'll never have the money.”

“Never say never,” I say.

“You really think I'll fly someday?” he asks.

“I think so, but my ability is still developing. I don't see things so much as smell them.”

“Smell them?”

“I smell the future. And I can hear it, too,” I add.

“Is it like that for your dad?”

“No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he can actually
see
the future.”

“Why can't you?”

“I don't know. Maybe my ability still has some kinks that have to be ironed out.” I almost say I can see other things, but then I'd have to explain about baldie ghosts, and the one bouncing at my leg like he's been trying to get my attention for a while.

As soon as I notice him, Sky looks up with his
Follow me
stare and darts off deep into the woods. His friends turn their eyes on me, too, willing me to follow. Of course I can't, so I clutch Sky's tag and silently call him to appear back at my side. But there're some kinks in my abilities all right. My favorite baldie's
on
switch is broken yet again.

 

22

T
HE
C
ALL OF THE
W
OODS

I keep calling Sky with his tag, but he doesn't come back. I get mad enough to think harder about why he might disobey.

Back when I was little, the first time Sky laid eyes on the Selnicks' horse, he protected me so fiercely Dad had to pick him up and carry him away from it to get him to listen. The horse was big and unfamiliar, and Sky was convinced it was dangerous. What is he convinced is dangerous now?

I can't follow him into the woods to find out. I'm so worried when I go to sleep that night at the Hatterasks' house, I dream of the baldies. I think the heat is the sun beating on my shoulders, and all I want is to tuck inside their cave, where it's cool and refreshing. But the baldies bark, sharp and angry, louder and louder, until I wake with a start and realize they're not a dream. They're outside the window.

They surround the Hatterasks' house. Four ghost baldies, heads back, noses to the sky, throats constricting, howling. What do they want? Are they here to warn me? There are only four when there should be five, because Sky is missing. So I touch his tag and hope for the best. This time he comes, and I say an inner cheer.

Yasmine is sleeping soundly. She can't hear the barking. They're so loud, I wish I couldn't either.

“Can you make your friends be quiet?” I ask Sky.

But he joins his friends in the noise. It's hard to tell if he's helping me or them.

Sky barks on and on, but the baldies won't be hushed. I'm not sure what makes these wild baldies appear or disappear. When he chooses to obey, Sky is controlled by his tag, which is engraved with his name and my phone number. When I release it, he goes away. But his friends don't have tags.

My dream.

The woods. The baldies' home.

I also thought of the woods at school before I threw up and when I wondered how to get around the woods to Dad. Sky's tag is connected to his home. And the woods are the wild baldies' home. This must be how I made them appear.

But when I try to send them back home like I did with the eagle, they won't leave.
Go home,
I think. But they only howl louder. Since thinking of the woods makes them appear, maybe I have to
not
think of the woods to make them disappear. But
not
thinking of a thing once you've thought of it is like going to the beach and trying not to get sandy.

I get dressed and tiptoe outside the house. “Why'd you have to wait until the middle of the night to try to tell me something?” I ask them.

They get quiet. I've come outside, so they reward me with their silence. But it's only because they want me to follow them. They lead me across the island to the edge of the woods, where they wait. Their eyes are filled with that intense urgency that says
Follow me.
It's hard not to be taken in by it. There's something in the woods they want to show me, but I don't think it's as harmless as a horse. I think it's something actually dangerous.

Behind me, something smacks to the ground and a light goes bouncing. I spin around. It's Nector. He's followed me and dropped his flashlight. He raises a tentative hand. A guilty wave, like he's the one caught instead of me. “Hi,” he whispers.

“You followed me?”

He nods. “Can I come? If you're going to the baldie cave, you shouldn't go alone,” he warns.

“What makes you think I'm going to the baldie cave?”

“I thought it might keep calling.”

I nod, surprised that his reasoning is pretty close to the truth. “How did you know … that it would keep calling?”

Nector shrugs. “It's how things work. If something's after you, it doesn't usually go away.”

I consider this theory. The hurricanes hit the Hatterask house over and over, generation after generation. Nector's great-grandfather was called into the ocean during a storm. Maybe more than once until he couldn't resist it. Maybe I'm being called to the baldie cave. Maybe this is how legends are born.

I turn to Sky.
Is that where we're going? The baldie cave?

Sky can't answer. He can only ask that I follow.

My wound isn't even healed. I can get hurt. I'm scared to go to the baldie cave. But if I don't find out what the ghost baldies want, I may never sleep again.

“You can come with me if you want,” I tell Nector. “But it probably isn't safe.”

“I assumed there'd be danger.” He smiles a little and holds up something shaped like a wishbone. “I brought my slingshot.”

“You can't bring it,” I insist. “I know Yasmine helped me with that pellet gun, but…” I can't be responsible for hurting another baldie. I hated seeing the one that bit me limp back into his cave. It's not like the baldies can get medicine and a bandage, like I can. If they get hurt, they could die. “Leave it here, and I'll let you come.”

“But—”

“No weapon. That's my rule.” I fold my arms like I mean business. I hate to be bossy, but weapons hurt animals.

“Okay,” Nector agrees. He runs the slingshot back to the house and leaves it there.

The baldies wag their tails, excited we've decided to play Follow the Baldie, now the most dangerous game on Bald Island. Nector shines his flashlight into the trees, and I lead by following the baldie pack.

I think of Nector's great-grandfather again. “If it gets too scary, we can turn back. I don't want to be led to my death.”

“Me either. Especially since you wouldn't let me bring my slingshot.” Nector gives me a sidelong glance.

“Are you pouting, Nector Hatterask?” I demand, because if he's going to whine the whole way, he can go back.

“I just wanted to be able to protect you,” he says.

I put my hands on my hips. “I don't need protection.”

“Everyone needs a friend to watch their back,” he says.

It's so nice it stuns me speechless.

The baldies pick up the pace. The trees thicken and the only light is from Nector's flashlight. It's so quiet that every stick that snaps under our feet sounds like gunfire. An owl hooting above seems an ominous warning. We don't get far before I don't feel so tough. I already want to chicken out and turn back. Suddenly the baldies stop, and I wonder if they can read my mind.

“What is it?” Nector whispers. We've stopped at a clump of trees.

“I don't know,” I whisper back.

Nector swings the flashlight around, and I keep a keen eye on the baldies. The flashlight catches on something fleshy and red, and my heart sinks. I think it's another dead baldie. I take the flashlight from Nector and move in closer. But it isn't a baldie. It's a hunk of meat cut too cleanly to be wild. A steak from the general store? There's a strange liquid oozing out of it.

“What is that stuff?” I ask Nector. I wave him closer. The meat is covered in a bright yellow sauce. Its scent is sticky sweet. It's the same smell that was lingering in my house when I realized we'd been robbed.

Nector nudges it with the toe of his sneaker. “Looks like steak sauce from the future.” He pauses, staring at it. “Or outer space.”

I agree. The liquid is neon, not a color you should eat. “What's a steak dinner doing in the middle of the woods?”

“Think someone was camping here?” he asks.

I swing the flashlight around, but I don't see any other signs of camping. “Doesn't look like it.”

The ghost baldies have gone bananas barking. Sky puts his paw over the steak. He lifts his head and barks with a fury I've never before seen in him.

“It's dangerous,” I say.

“How do you know?” Nector shines his flashlight, looking for what I see.

“Doesn't it look like poison to you?” And then as soon as I say it, I know it's true. This is what's been killing the baldies. Steak filled with sticky, sweet fluorescent poison that looks exactly like the stuff I saw leaking from Eder's car last Thursday morning. Eder is putting meat in the woods on purpose to kill the baldies.

 

23

T
HE
K
EY TO
S
URVIVAL

I think back to all the times Sky seemed like he was trying to tell me something—like the way he stood on his grave, strong and unmoving.
Is this what you were trying to say, boy? That you were murdered?

Sky wags his tail and spins around like he's shouting
Yes, yes!

“Look there!” Nector points to a flash between the trees.

I swing the flashlight where Nector points, and I light up a baldie. A live one. The animal crouches low like he wants to move in toward the free meal.

“No!” I yell at the baldie. “Get back.” I wag the flashlight, moving my arm up and down, trying to create a barrier between him and the steak.

Sky and his ghost friends go crazy barking at the approaching baldie. They bang into him with their bodies, but their friend can't hear or feel their warning.

“Come on,” Nector says. He tries to pull me away.

But I won't go, because the dog will eat the steak, making him dead baldie number six.

The baldie doesn't seem deterred by the fence I'm miming, waving the flashlight up and down. He moves slowly, gearing up to fight me for the food. I'm afraid to touch the meat with my bare hands. I have to guard the steak as if I've claimed it for myself.

Go home to your cave,
I think.
Go home, go home, go home.
I close my eyes, chanting over and over, praying the
Go home
magic works.

Nector tries again to pull me away from the steak, but I stand my ground.

“Come on!” he shouts. “It's going to attack.”

“I can't leave, or he'll die.”

“Who cares?” Nector doesn't get it. The baldies are nothing to him.

“I do,” I say. “I care.” The weight of the truth hits me. I'm the only one who cares. And I won't stop caring. Not tonight. Not ever.

The baldie steps toward me another inch.

“Save yourself,” I tell Nector. “I'm staying.”

But Nector doesn't leave. His long brown hands curl into trembling fists. He bends his knees and hunches down next to me. He whispers, “Sure wish I had my slingshot.”

I'm bent, too, over the steak. I close my eyes and mentally chant,
Go home, go home, go home.
I picture the cave, cool but cozy with a family of baldies. I can smell their warmth. I concentrate with a force that mentally transports me to the protected cave.