Cursed! (9 page)

I shook my head.

“You have a very big imagination,” said Lewis.

I shook my head again. This was not my imagination.

Then Bear walked in, spotted the Spirit Man and whined.

I pulled him close. “I know, Bear. You hate him too.”

Kara's and Lewis's eyes went wide as they stared from Bear to the corner where I claimed the Spirit Man was lurking.

“What, you don't believe me but you believe Bear?”

They both shivered. Then Kara said, “I've been reading up on curses. Well, Egyptian curses. I couldn't find anything about other kinds. Ancient Egyptians believed in curses and magic, and they wrote curses on their tombs. This one was found in the tombs of the builders of the pyramids of Giza, in Egypt.” She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolded it and read:

Oh, all people who enter this tomb,

Who will make evil against this tomb, and destroy it:

May the crocodile be against them on water,

And snakes against them on land.

May the hippopotamus be against them on water,
The scorpion against them on land.

I shivered. “That's really creepy.”

“We could use it for the party,” said Lewis.

“What?” Kara and I both stared at him.

He smiled and looked around the living room. “We could pretend we're in a tomb, lit only with candles. A sandstorm is raging outside.”

I started to smile.

“People are late or can't come because of the curse!” Kara added.

Lucy finally arrived, cold and wet, and Olivia showed up not much later. We played Lewis's game, and it turned into a great party.

We were caught in a fierce sandstorm as we searched for the tomb of Osiris. Lewis gave Mom a book and asked her to read part of it and pretend she was a priestess of Isis. She warned us to stay away from the tomb and said that terrible things would happen if we tried to open it.

We became trapped in the tomb, hoping someone would find us and dig us out.

“But would they be good guys or bad guys?” Olivia asked.

“Either way, if they dig us out, that would be good,” said Lewis.

The snacks were rations from our backpacks, and the presents became treasures we unearthed from the tomb.

Far too soon, the doorbell rang. Lucy's mom was early and in a rush to get home.

“You have to leave?” we all complained.

“Maybe you're going on a side exploration,” Kara said. “Or you get lost in the desert.”

Lucy grinned. “Yeah, I get lost in the desert and die of thirst, and my bones lie in the sun forever.”

“And don't forget the curse,” said Kara. She pulled the paper out of her pocket and read the curse again, standing tall and chanting as if she was an Egyptian priestess.

Olivia squeaked, and Lucy shivered.

Bear snuggled in closer. Kara patted him and said, “Bear, you get eaten by a really big snake.”

“Or maybe a hippopotamus,” Lucy suggested.

“Definitely a hippopotamus,” said Lewis.

Bear whined.

Olivia was eaten by crocodiles, and Kara contracted a disfiguring disease and died a painful, lingering death.

When everyone had left, Mom asked, “Did you have fun?”

“Oh yeah! Everyone died in a horrible way— it was a great party!”

“Uh…good,” said Mom.

I just grinned.

CHAPTER 11
Pleurisy for Christmas

The power came back on just after we'd eaten a cold dinner. But the problem wasn't over. By morning we had a water leak from a pipe in the basement wall that froze when the house was cold.

Dad and BB set to work cleaning up the mess, while a plumber tore apart the new wall to get to the leak. Then all the soggy bits had to be dried up or hauled away, and the damaged renovation work repaired. Through it all, Mom got more and more tired.

One morning when I came downstairs for breakfast, Dad said, “Jane, your mom hurt her shoulder. I'm going to take her to the doctor as soon as I get you guys off to school.”

I looked at Mom sitting on the sofa, sagging and pale.

“What happened?” I asked.

“It just started hurting when I was in the shower, and it hurts to breathe.”

Dad rushed us through breakfast and handed us money to buy lunch. Then we headed out.

Mom was moving really slowly as she got ready to go.

“Are you going to be okay, Mom?” I asked.

“Of course. I'll tell you all about it after school.”

“All right,” I said, but when I looked back, she was leaning against the wall for a moment, her eyes closed.

I worried all day.

Mom was lying on the sofa when we got home from school, with Dad sitting near her.

“Mom, you're okay.” I raced in for a hug.

Dad caught me. “Careful now. Your mom is pretty sore.”

“What's wrong?” I asked.

Mom smiled a little. “I have pleurisy.”

“What's that?

“I have a pocket of air on the outside of my lung. It's not a big deal—it just hurts while it heals.”

“I thought your shoulder hurt.”

“It did, but it turns out my shoulder hurts because my lungs hurt, not the other way around.”

“So you're going to be okay?”

“Oh, yeah. The doctor says I should be better ‘in seven to ten days,'” she said in a formal voice, imitating the doctor.

“Why did it happen?”

Mom and Dad glanced at each other. “They're not sure. They checked for all the nasty causes, and I don't have any.”

“Nasty?” I asked. “Like what?” I started to worry again when they hesitated. “Tell me!”

“Pneumonia, lung cancer, a blood clot.”

My eyes got bigger and bigger. “Mom, those are awful things!”

“Which I don't have.”

“So why do you have pleurisy?”

“The doctor wasn't sure. He thought maybe I'd had a virus and just wasn't very sick from it.”

“But you haven't been sick, exactly, just tired, so maybe they missed something.”

“Jane, they worry as much as you do. I had all kinds of weird tests, and they were all negative. I just have pleurisy.”

“How weird?”

“Well, after the X-rays and blood tests, including an arterial stab, which is taking blood from the wrist—that was really nasty—I got to breathe in radioactive material and have the airways of my lungs scanned. Then I was injected with more radioactive material and the blood vessels of my lungs were scanned.”

I could feel my eyes growing bigger and bigger.

“And it's all fine,” Mom said. “I'm not telling you this to scare you, but to show you how thorough they were. They were very careful, and they wouldn't let me leave until they knew I don't have anything dangerous. I'll be fine.”

I walked away cursing the Spirit Man. I could cope with storms and Byron and Mrs. Von Hirschberg and a totally weird birthday party, but making Mom sick was going way too far.

I searched the house for him. I finally found him in my bedroom, standing by the window.

I slammed the door and stalked up to him. “You,” I said, pointing my finger into his face, “You have gone too far.”

He glared back.

“Don't you glare at me,” I scolded. “You have gone way too far. Mom is really sick because of your games.” I was shaking with anger, and I used it to speak just like Mom does when one of us has done something really bad.

“You leave my mother alone! You leave my father alone. And my brothers. And my dog! Or I'll toss you into a wood chipper, so help me!”

The Spirit Man quivered.

“And don't think you can slink off and hurt someone else. No more hurting people!” I stomped my foot. He shivered and faded a little.

“Now go into the corner and stay there all night. Don't even think about causing any trouble.”

He retreated into the corner, faded and quiet. I strode out of my room, looking stern. But as soon as I closed the door behind me, I started to shake. What had I done?

At dinner BB joked about how pleurisy sounded like an old disease, like gout or consumption. Lewis struggled with how to say it.

“Plur-iss-eee,” I said, pronouncing each syllable carefully.

BB, Lewis and I helped with dinner and dishes while Mom rested, a heating pad on her chest.

Seven days passed, and Mom still hurt. After ten days, there was no improvement. Mom looked pale, almost gray, with dark shadows under her eyes. Her eyelids drooped with fatigue.

Slowly we settled into a new routine. We all pitched in with the housework, but then we'd separate. Dad and BB worked in the basement, trying to keep it clean and get the renovation done as soon as possible. Mom rested on the sofa, cell phone and laptop nearby so she could do some work. Lewis and I hung out in my room, where I helped Lewis with his reading.

Bear wandered back and forth, checking on Dad and BB and the renovation, keeping Mom company during the day and cuddling with Lewis and me in the evening.

The Spirit Man sulked. He spent most of his time gazing out the windows. I think he was hoping for a big storm, but didn't dare make one.

We waited for Mom to heal, but she didn't. She kept going to the doctor and getting more tests, but she didn't get better.

Finally Dad announced, “Mom can't travel at Christmas. We'll have to go to Grandma's at spring break.” He said it in a voice that didn't allow any arguing.

I felt sick. I knew Mom couldn't travel, but I was desperate to get to Grandma's. I'd been rude to the Spirit Man and started all this. And I'd suggested the renovation that made Mom sick.

The Spirit Man was getting restless. He started following us around the house—Bear hated it. When he wasn't following someone, he stood gazing out the window, hoping for a storm. But it was sunny and cold every day. No wind, no clouds, no snow.

Finally I joined him at the living-room window. “You could make a few storms,” I said. “Not big ones—no damage—but a little wild, if you're careful.”

That night the wind picked up and howled, and it started to snow. The next day a chinook wind blew in and melted the snow into slush. Every day we had new weather. Everyone grumbled about the rapid changes, but no one got hurt and nothing was damaged, so I let the Spirit Man play.