Don't Forget Me! (4 page)

Peter stared at the book. “Really?”

I sighed. “I can't hypnotize you if you keep laughing and asking questions.”

Peter pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Well, what are you going to do to me when I'm hypnotized?”

“I'm going to make you remember things you've forgotten,” I told him. “And then we'll see if you have any past lives.”

“Cool,” he said. He settled back. “Do it.”

Addie flashed me a thumbs-up. I raised the silver dollar and turned back to Peter. “Watch the coin, Peter,” I whispered. “You're getting very sleepy … very sleepy….”

He didn't burst out laughing this time. He didn't say a word. His expression was solemn. He rested his head against the back of the couch, and nothing moved but his eyes. Back and forth … slowly, so slowly … back and forth.

“You feel so drowsy now, Peter. Your eyelids feel heavy … so heavy…. You can barely keep them open….”

Perched on the window ledge, Addie shifted her weight. She seemed to fade deeper into the shadows.

“Sleepy … so sleepy …” I whispered. “Your legs are asleep…. Your arms are asleep…. Close your eyes, Peter…. Close them now.”

Peter obediently closed his eyes. I expected him to burst out laughing, or shout “BOO!” or something.

Instead, a long breath escaped his throat, and his head slumped forward.

Addie laughed. “Your brother is such a good actor,” she whispered.

I lowered the coin and stared at my brother. A smile crossed my face. It was totally cute how he was playing along, pretending to be hypnotized.

His eyes were shut tight. He was slumped on the couch, his head tilted forward. He was taking slow, steady breaths.

“When I snap my fingers, you will come out of the trance,” I said. I snapped my fingers.

Peter didn't move.

I snapped my fingers again. “That's the signal for you to open your eyes,” I said. “You will come out of the trance and feel totally normal.”

Peter didn't move. As he breathed, so slowly and softly, his chin bobbed on his chest.

I snapped my fingers again. Then I hit my hands together in a sharp clap.

He didn't open his eyes. Or jump up. Or anything. In fact, his breathing seemed to get slower, softer.

“Okay, Peter. Cut the joke,” I groaned.

“Yeah. Forget about it! Enough already,” Addie said. “You're starting to scare us.”

“This is so not funny, Peter,” I said. I leaned over him and clapped my hands right in his ear.

He didn't react at all. Didn't flinch. Didn't move.

Addie and I frowned at each other. “Come on, Peter,” I pleaded. “Get up. You promised you'd let Addie and me practice.”

“It isn't funny,” Addie said. “We know you're faking. We know you're not really in a trance.”

Peter's head bobbed steadily on his chest. His eyes didn't open.

My throat suddenly felt tight and dry. My legs were trembling. “Peter, it's not a good joke,” I said. “Stop it. Just stop it, okay? Open your eyes and get going!”

He didn't move. His steady breaths—whoosh … whoosh … whoosh—suddenly sounded deafening to me.

“What are we going to do?” I gasped.

“Tickle him,” Addie suggested. “That'll wake him up!”

“Yes!” I cried. “Peter is totally ticklish.”

I plunged both hands into his ribs and started to tickle. His head bounced around lifelessly. His eyes remained shut. His mouth dropped open, but he didn't laugh.

I tickled harder. Harder. I dug my fingers into his sides, so hard I knew I was hurting him.

“Wake up!” I screamed. “Peter, wake up!”

“Open your eyes, please!” Addie begged. She had her hands clasped tightly in front of her as if praying. I saw tears in her eyes. “Please, Peter, please!”

And then I had my hands on both of his shoulders, and I was shaking him. Shaking him. Shaking him.

And screaming. Screaming without even hearing myself.

“He won't wake up! What are we going to do? What are we going to DO?”

 

I shook Peter frantically, screaming his name. His head bobbed limply on his shoulders. His mouth hung open, his tongue falling from side to side.

He suddenly seemed so frail and tiny.

“Peter, please! Peter!”

I suddenly pictured him as a baby. He was such a cute baby with that red hair and tiny freckles all over his face. I pictured him as a toddler, walking unsteadily, peering out at us through his tiny eyeglasses.

“Peter, wake up! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”

What have I done?

I gasped when his eyes opened. Slowly, like a doll's eyes when you tilt her straight up. He blinked. He shut them again.

“Peter! Peter! Are you awake?”

Addie and I were both leaning over him, screaming at him.

His eyelids slowly raised. He gazed up at us with a blank, glassy stare. His mouth closed slowly, and he swallowed noisily.

I let go of his shoulders and dropped back a step. “Peter?”

A low groan escaped his open mouth. A sound I'd never heard before. An animal groan from deep inside him. Not a human groan.

He shook his head hard, as if trying to clear his mind. Then he gazed up at Addie and me again, a glassy doll's stare.

Addie squeezed my hand. Her hand was wet and cold as ice. “He's okay, Danielle,” she said in a trembling voice. “He's going to be okay.”

I slid my hand from hers and swept it gently through Peter's hair. “Peter?” I whispered. “You okay?”

The reply came from deep in his throat. “Unnn-huh.” A low grunt. He pulled himself up slowly, still blinking, and shook his head again.

A chill tightened the back of my neck. “Peter, I'm sorry,” I choked out. “The hypnotism thing… it… it was just a joke. I didn't realize…” My voice caught in my throat.

“You're okay, right?” Addie asked him. “You feel okay?”

He shifted his weight on the couch and gazed around the room. “I guess,” he said finally. And then he asked a question that sent a cold stab through my heart. “Where am I?”

“We—we're in the living room,” I stammered.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Then he squinted up at me. “The living room? Really?”

Addie uttered a cry. “Stop kidding around, Peter. It isn't funny. You're starting to scare us.”

Peter swallowed again. He blinked several times and gazed around. His eyes finally locked on me. “You're Danielle?”

“Yes!” I cried. “Don't you remember me?” I turned to Addie, my whole body shaking in panic. “I don't think he's kidding. I really don't think he remembers,” I whispered. “I think I ruined his memory or something.”

“No, you didn't,” Addie insisted. “You couldn't. You don't even know how to hypnotize someone, Danielle.”

“But look at him!” I whispered through my gritted teeth. “He doesn't know where he is! He's totally lost!”

“Hey, you know Peter. He's faking it,” she said. “I think he's playing a really cruel joke.”

We both turned back to Peter. He stood up shakily and took a few steps, as if testing his legs. Then he stretched his arms over his head. He gazed from Addie to me, concentrating hard, as if trying to remember.

“Should I call Dr. Ross?” I asked him. “Peter? Do you think you need a doctor?”

He squinted at me. He was always so quick. Mom calls him Motormouth. But now it took him a long time to answer. “I'm… fine,” he whispered.

He rubbed his forehead and gazed around the room again. “You're Addie. Right?” he asked.

Addie nodded solemnly. “Yes. Right.”

“Addie and Danielle,” Peter mumbled.

“I think I'd better call Dr. Ross,” I said. I reached for the phone beside the couch.

Peter grabbed my arm. “No. I'm fine. I'm okay. Really, Danielle.” He let out a short laugh. “I'm just kidding. You know.”

I stared hard into his eyes, studying him.

He made a face at me. He stuck out his teeth, crossed his eyes, and made his monkey face. The face that always cracks Mom and Dad up.

Then he laughed. “Stop staring at me like that. I'm fine. Really. I'm perfectly okay. What's wrong with you two?”

Addie and I exchanged glances.

“I'm fine. I'll show you!” Peter cried. He started jumping up and down on the couch cushions. Then he leapt to the floor and did a wild tap dance. “See?”

Addie and I both laughed. “I think he's definitely back to normal,” Addie said.

I still felt shaky. “Peter, you remember where you are now? You remember our names?”

“Duh,” he said.

“He's back to normal,” Addie sighed.

Then his expression changed. “Did you really hypnotize me?” he asked suddenly. “I felt kinda weird for a little while. Kinda dizzy or something.”

“I—I don't know what happened,” I told him. “But I'm glad you're okay. You're not dizzy now, are you?”

He shook his head. “I feel great.”

“Then you can go,” I said. “Addie and I have to practice our act.”

“Why can't I hang out with you?” he asked.

“Peter, you promised,” I said.

“I'll be quiet. Really,” he insisted. “You won't even know I'm here. Please please please?”

Addie rolled her eyes. “He's definitely back to normal.”

I gave Peter a shove toward the front stairs. “Out of here. You promised you'd leave us alone if I hypnotized you. Now, beat it.”

He grumbled some more. Then he headed up to his room, taking the stairs two at a time, slapping the banister loudly with each step.

I turned and saw that Addie was at the front door. “I'd better go,” she said. “That was kind of weird. I know you don't feel like rehearsing our act now.”

“I never want to hypnotize anyone again,” I said, shaking my head. “Even if it's pretend.”

“That's just it,” Addie said. “It was pretend, Danielle. You couldn't have hypnotized your brother. You couldn't.”

“Then what happened to him?” I asked.

Addie frowned. “I … I don't know,” she murmured. “At least he snapped out of it. That was scary for a minute or two. Hey, I'll call you later.” She hurried out.

I closed the door after her. Then I just stood in the hallway trembling. I couldn't get that horrifying picture of Peter out of my mind—sprawled there so lifelessly as I shook him and shook him.

“Get it together,” I scolded myself. “Everything is fine now.”

I took a deep breath, pushed that picture from my mind, forced myself to move. Gripping the banister tightly, I pulled myself up the stairs, then down the long hallway to Peter's room.

The door was closed. I leaned close and pressed my ear against the door.

Silence in there.

My heart began to race.

Why was it so quiet in there? Was he really okay? Peter was never quiet.

I raised my fist and knocked on the door, harder than I had intended. “Peter? It's me.”

No reply.

“Peter?”

I pounded again. Still no answer. So I twisted the knob and pushed open the door. “Peter—?”

He was sitting in front of his computer with his back to me. The computer was on, the monitor screen flashing bright colors and the name of the game,
Tomb Raider
. No sound. He had a game controller gripped in one hand.

I took a few steps into the room. “Peter? Didn't you hear me?”

He turned slowly. The red and yellow lights from the monitor screen reflected eerily in his glasses. I couldn't see his eyes.

“Peter—?”

“Hi,” he said finally.

The words
Tomb Raider
blinked on the screen in huge letters, red, then green, then blue. The colors washed over Peter's face.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. I told you. I'm fine,” he snapped. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“Can I just ask you a question, Danielle?”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “What is it?”

“How do you play this game?”