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Authors: Maureen Bush

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BOOK: Cursed!
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Christmas was quiet. Mom lived on the sofa, with a heating pad on her chest and a blanket over her legs. BB, Lewis and I helped Dad with the cooking. Dad had ordered most of our gifts off his websites of weird stuff. Mom had ordered books, from her sofa.

Slowly we worked our way through the pile of presents. Lewis was giggling over a black T-shirt that read
Come to the Dark Side
when BB unwrapped his own helicopter.

“This is the coolest thing,” BB said, tearing open the box. “Dad, we could have battles!”

Mom groaned, and then she shrieked and started to laugh as a mouse dashed across the floor, weaving between the presents. Bear chased it under the Christmas tree. He dove for it, but he was too big to fit under the tree. The tree tipped, and we leaped up to grab it, pull out Bear and save the presents from the water spilling out of the tree stand. As we scrambled, the mouse dashed across the living room, into the kitchen and down the stairs.

Mom laughed until she collapsed, coughing, while Dad and I reset the tree in the stand, and BB and Lewis mopped up the water and swept up the broken ornaments.

The Spirit Man was watching from the kitchen doorway. He slipped away when I shook my head.

CHAPTER 12
Postpone the Party?

In early January, Mom got another pocket of air on the outside of her lung. She had another round of tests, and still no answers. Dad was convinced the basement renovation was the problem, and he started to research allergies and mold and dust and mice. Then he started hauling home boxes of equipment.

“You can't fix Mom with machines,” I said as he plugged in an air filter beside her bed.

“Well, the doctors can't find anything wrong, and we know the problem started when we began our renovation, so I think it's worth a try.” He turned it on and shut the door as we left the room. “This will give her one really clean room to retreat to,” he said.

With Mom sick, we spent less and less time together. Mom rested, Dad and BB worked on the renovation, and Lewis hung out with me in my room. Bear paced back and forth between us, trying to connect us all. I couldn't wait until the Boys' Birthday Party so we could do something together again.

When the air filter seemed to help a little, Dad brought the furnace guys back to install a special filter on the furnace. It was another foul day as the Spirit Man brewed up a storm, but eventually the new filter was running.

Within days, Mom was feeling better and starting to do more. Even so, it wasn't soon enough or fast enough.

In late January, Dad said, “Mom's not well enough to do the Boys' Birthday, so we'll have to postpone it until spring break.”

I dropped my fork. “But we're going to Grandma's!” I squeaked.

Dad smiled. “We'll invite her here instead,” he said, “and drive out this summer, like we usually do.”

I sat, stunned. No. I could not possibly wait until summer. I had to get rid of the Spirit Man before then. I closed my eyes, swallowed and said, “I'll do it.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I shuddered and almost took them back. I hate organizing people and big parties.

“What?” Dad asked.

“The Boys' Birthday. I'll organize it.” My stomach twisted, but I tried to sound sure of myself.

“Just you?” asked BB, his voice scornful. “Just you and Old Mouldy?”

“No, me and Old Moby and Lewis. You and Dad make sure the house is clean, and Lewis and I will plan the party.”

“Jane, you can't do it,” Mom said. “You hate that kind of fuss.” She stopped in a fit of coughing.

“Mom, I can. We can do this. You won't have to do a thing.”

“I can't get the house clean and make the salsas by myself,” Dad said. “That's a lot of work.”

“Then it won't be a salsa party,” I said.

“What will we eat?” asked BB.

I shrugged. “What do
you
like, Lewis?”

“Pickles,” he said.

The Spirit Man grinned.

I glared at the Spirit Man, grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down
Pickles
. “We'll have a pickle party,” I said.

“And olives,” said BB.

I looked up at him, frowning.

He shrugged. “I like olives,” he said.

Olives
, I wrote down.

Then I looked at Dad.

“Pickled beets are my favorite.”

I added
Pickled Beets
to the list. “Could you take us shopping?” I asked Dad.

He nodded. “We'll go the day before the party.”

“We can't just have pickles,” Mom said.

When everyone turned to her and said, “Why not?” she started to laugh and then to cough. When she was finished, she said, her voice hoarse, “Pickles it is!”

Of course, we didn't just have pickles. When I invited our friends, every one of them asked, “What can I bring?”

“An appetizer would be lovely,” I'd answer politely.

Lewis and I bought paper plates and cups and napkins, pop and juice, taco chips, and lots and lots of pickles. Dill pickles, pickled beets, olives, baby pickles, pickled onions. But no pickled eggs.

We decorated with all of Dad's silly toys, and brought in the robots, dressed in party hats.

Just before the party, I found the Spirit Man and had a chat. “You have to behave. No hurting people. No mischief. No trouble.” I stared into his eyes. “No trouble, do you hear me?”

He just stared back, but I could feel a nod. Just a tiny one. “Thanks,” I said. “I am trying to get you home, you know.”

He turned to stare out the window.

The closer it got to party time, the more nervous I felt. Somehow this had become my party—my plan, my invitations—and now I was expected to host it.

“Just answer the door and welcome people,” Dad said. “I'll be in the kitchen, and Mom will be enthroned on the sofa. Just send them in.”

I groaned.

The bell rang, and I jumped up, my stomach knotted. I pasted on a smile and opened the door. Friends of Dad's. “Hi,” I said. “Come on in. Dad and BB are in the kitchen. Mom's in the living room.” And then they were gone. I let out my breath in a big
whoosh
. Okay, I can do this. Then more friends came, and more. Each one brought presents and a plate of appetizers, and soon the tables were loaded with goodies.

Lewis played on the stairs with his friends and Bear, and BB and his buddies settled in to eat as much as they could before being chased away.

Finally Kara arrived to keep me company.

“I'm so worried the Spirit Man will find a way to ruin the party,” I said.

“You worry too much,” said Kara.

“Well, he scares me.”

“So make him
less
scary.”

“How?” I asked.

“Think of him with a pink parasol.”

I smiled. “With pretty white lace all around the edges?”

Kara grinned. “
Exactly!

The party was wonderful. One of Mom's friends brought a huge chocolate birthday cake, with
Brandon
and
Lewis
and
Tomas
written on it in green icing, with pickles dancing around the edges.

When everyone had a slice, Mom stood and held up a hand for silence. “First of all, to pickles!” She raised her glass. “Thank you, Lewis, for that inspired idea.” Everyone either laughed or helped themselves to another pickle.

Then Mom spoke again. “I'd like to thank Jane for this party. Without her, it would never have happened. To Mackenzie Jane.” She lifted her glass and toasted me, and everyone joined in.

“To Mackenzie Jane.”

I stood blinking back tears. She never called me Mackenzie Jane!

Kara elbowed me. “Say something,” she whispered.

I looked up. Everyone was staring at me. I swallowed and mumbled, “Um…To Lewis. And Brandon. And Dad. Happy Birthday.”

While everyone cheered and drank, I added softly, “And to the Spirit Man, who hasn't done a single bad thing today. I hope.”

Lewis and BB joined me while we ate our cake.

“Oh, I didn't get you presents,” I said, suddenly remembering. “I was so busy planning the party, I forgot.”

Lewis looked around at the party—especially at Mom, happy and flushed and chatting. “This is your present,” he said.

BB draped an arm over my shoulder and gave me a quick squeeze in agreement.

CHAPTER 13
Waiting for Spring

As Mom healed, the basement renovation continued. BB's room was the first one completely finished. Once it was painted, with carpet on the floor and blinds on the window, we moved BB downstairs, with Mom directing where everything should go from a chair in the corner.

“We'll change things a bit later,” Mom said. “But this will do for now.”

With BB gone, Lewis's room was half-empty. He was promised a big shelf for books, but he said he didn't mind waiting. For now, his books were stacked on the floor.

Finally things were calming down; I just needed to hang on until spring break. The Spirit Man didn't make it easy. He left my family alone, but he loved creating wild weather, and sometimes he'd come to school with me.

BOOK: Cursed!
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