Be Careful What You Wish For Page 4

  The referee tossed the ball up. The Jefferson girl jumped high. Judith made a real effort. I could see the strain on her face.

  But her feet didn’t even leave the floor.

  The Jefferson player batted the ball to one of her teammates, and they headed down the floor with it.

  I chased after them, running at full speed. But the rest of my team could only walk.

  Jefferson scored with an easy layup.

  “Come on, Judith — we can catch them!” I shouted, clapping my hands cheerfully.

  Judith glared dully at me. Her green eyes looked faded, kind of washed out.

  “Pick it up! Pick it up! Let’s go, Mustangs!” I cheered energetically.

  I was really enjoying rubbing it in.

  Judith could barely bounce the ball inbounds. I picked it up and dribbled all the way down the floor. Under the basket, one of the Jefferson players bumped me from behind as I tried to shoot.

  Two foul shots for me.

  It took my slow-motion teammates forever to make their way down the floor to line up.

  Of course, I missed both of my foul shots.

  But I didn’t care.

  “Let’s go, Mustangs!” I shouted, clapping my hands energetically. “Defense! Defense!”

  Suddenly, I had become both a player and a cheerleader. I was really enjoying being the best player on the team.

  Watching Judith and Anna droop around and drag their bodies back and forth like tired losers was the biggest hoot! It was just awesome!

  We lost the game by twenty-four points.

  Judith, Anna, and the others looked glad it was over. I started to trot to the locker room to get changed, a big smile on my face.

  I was nearly changed by the time my teammates dragged into the locker room. Judith walked up to me and leaned against my locker. She eyed me suspiciously.

  “How come you’re so peppy?” she demanded.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I told her. “I feel okay. Same as ever.”

  Sweat was pouring down Judith’s forehead. Her red hair was matted wetly against her head.

  “What’s going on here, Byrd?” she demanded, yawning. “I don’t get it.”

  “Maybe you’re coming down with the flu or something,” I said, trying to hide how much I was enjoying this.

  This was great!

  “Ohhh, I’m so tired,” Anna moaned, coming up behind Judith.

  “I’m sure you’ll both feel better tomorrow,” I chirped.

  “There’s something weird going on here,” Judith murmured weakly. She tried to stare hard at me, but her eyes were too tired to focus.

  “See you tomorrow!” I said brightly, picking up my stuff and heading out. “Feel better, guys!”

  I stopped outside the locker room door.

  They will feel better tomorrow, I assured myself. They’ll be back to normal tomorrow.

  They won’t stay like this — right?

  Right??

  The next day, the bad news hit me like a ton of bricks.

  12

  Judith and Anna weren’t in school the next morning.

  I stared at their empty seats as I made my way to my seat in the front row. I kept turning back, searching for them. But the bell rang, and they weren’t there.

  Absent. Both absent.

  I wondered if the other girls on the team were absent, too.

  I felt a cold shiver run down my back.

  Were they still weak and tired? Too weak and tired to come to school?

  I had a frightening thought: What if they never returned to normal? What if the magic never wore off?

  Then I had an even more frightening thought: What if Judith and Anna and the others got weaker and weaker? What if they kept getting weaker until they died — and it was all my fault?

  All my fault. All my fault.

  I felt cold all over. My stomach felt as if I’d swallowed a rock. I had never felt so guilty, so horribly guilty, in all my life.

  I tried to force these thoughts from my mind, but I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t stop thinking that they might die because of my careless wish.

  I’ll be a murderer, I told myself with a shudder. A murderer.

  Sharon, our teacher, was standing right in front of me, talking about something. I couldn’t hear a word she said. I kept turning in my seat, staring back at the two empty chairs.

  Judith and Anna — what have I done to you?

  At lunch, I told the whole story to Cory.

  Of course he just laughed at me. He had a mouthful of grilled cheese and nearly choked.

  “Do you believe in the Easter Bunny, too?” he asked.

  But I was in no mood for jokes. I was really upset. I stared down at my uneaten lunch and felt sick.

  “Please take me seriously, Cory,” I begged. “I know it sounds dumb —”

  “You mean you’re for real?” he asked, his eyes studying my face. “I thought you were kidding, Sam. I thought this was a story for creative writing or something.”

  I shook my head. “Listen, Cory — if you had been at the girls’ basketball game yesterday afternoon, you’d know I’m not kidding,” I said, leaning across the table and whispering. “They were dragging around as if they were sleepwalking,” I told him. “It was so eerie!”

  I was so upset, my shoulders started to shake. I covered my eyes to keep myself from crying.

  “Okay … let’s think about this,” Cory said softly, his funny, crooked smile fading to a thoughtful frown. Finally, he had decided to take me seriously.

  “I’ve been thinking and thinking about it all morning,” I told him, still trying to force back the tears. “What if I’m a murderer, Cory? What if they really die?”

  “Sam, please,” he said, still frowning, his dark brown eyes studying mine. “Judith and Anna are probably not even sick. You’re probably making this all up in your mind. They’re probably perfectly okay.”

  “No way,” I muttered glumly.

  “Oh. I know!” Cory’s face brightened. “We can ask Audrey.”

  “Audrey?” Audrey was the school nurse. It took me a while to figure out what Cory was thinking. But I finally did.

  He was right. When you were going to be absent, your parents had to call Audrey in the morning and tell her why. Most likely, Audrey would be able to tell us why Judith and Anna were not in school today.

  I jumped up, nearly knocking my chair over. “Great idea, Cory!” I exclaimed. I started running through the lunchroom toward the door.

  “Wait! I’ll come with you!” Cory called, hurrying to catch up.

  Our sneakers pounded against the hard floor as we made our way down the long hall to the nurse’s office. We found Audrey locking the door.

  She is a short, sort of chunky woman, about forty or so, I guess, with bleached-blond hair pinned up in a bun on top of her head. She always wears baggy jeans and shaggy sweaters, never a nurse’s uniform.

  “Lunchtime,” she said, seeing us stop beside her. “What do they have today? I’m starving.”

  “Audrey, can you tell us why Judith and Anna aren’t in school today?” I demanded breathlessly, ignoring her question.

  “Huh?” I was talking so fast, so excitedly, I don’t think she understood me.

  “Judith Bellwood and Anna Frost?” I repeated, my heart pounding. “Why aren’t they in school today?”

  I saw surprise in Audrey’s pale gray eyes. Then she lowered her gaze.

  “Judith and Anna, they’re gone,” she said sadly.

  13

  I stared at her. My mouth dropped open in horror. “They’re gone?”

  “They’re gone for at least a week,” Audrey said. She bent to lock the office door.

  “They — what?” I squeaked.

  She had trouble pulling the key from the lock. “They went to the doctor,” she repeated. “Their moms called this morning. They’re very sick. Both girls have the flu or something. They felt weak. Too weak to come to school.”
r />   I breathed a sigh of relief. I was glad Audrey had been concentrating on the door lock, so she hadn’t seen the horrified look on my face.

  Audrey hurried off down the hall. As soon as she was out of sight, I slumped against the wall. “At least they’re not dead,” I moaned. “She scared me to death!”

  Cory shook his head. “Audrey scared me, too,” he confessed. “See? Judith and Anna just have the flu. I’m sure the doctors —”

  “They don’t have the flu,” I insisted. “They’re weak because of my wish.”

  “Call them later,” he suggested. “You’ll see. They’ll probably be much better.”

  “I can’t wait till later,” I said in a trembling voice. “I have to do something, Cory. I have to do something to keep them from getting weaker and weaker until they shrivel up and die!”

  “Calm down, Sam —”

  I started pacing back and forth in front of him. Some kids came hurrying by on their way to their lockers. Someone called to me, but I didn’t reply.

  “We’ve got to get to class,” Cory said. “I think you’re getting all weird over nothing, Sam. If you wait till tomorrow —”

  “She said I had three wishes!” I exclaimed, not hearing a word Cory was saying. “I only used one.”

  “Sam —” Cory shook his head disapprovingly.

  “I’ve got to find her!” I decided. “I’ve got to find that strange woman. Don’t you see? I can wish to have the first wish undone. She said I get three wishes. So my second wish can be to erase the first!”

  This idea was starting to make me feel a lot better.

  But then Cory brought me back down into my gloom with one question:

  “How are you going to find her, Sam?”

  14

  I thought about Cory’s question all afternoon. I barely heard a word anyone said to me.

  We had a vocab test near the end of the day. I stared at the words as if they were in Martian!

  After a while, I heard Lisa, my English teacher, calling my name. She was standing right in front of me, but I don’t think I heard her until her fifth or sixth try.

  “Are you okay, Samantha?” she asked, leaning over me. I knew she was wondering why I hadn’t started my test.

  “I feel a little sick,” I replied quietly. “I’ll be okay.

  I’ll be okay as soon as I find that weird woman and get her to erase her spell!

  But where will I find her? I wondered. Where?

  After school, I reported to the gym for basketball practice. Everyone on my team was absent, so practice was canceled.

  Absent because of me …

  I trudged upstairs to my locker and retrieved my down jacket. As I slammed the door and locked it, I had an idea.

  The woods. Jeffers’ Woods.

  That’s where I’d found Clarissa.

  I’ll bet I can find her there again.

  Maybe it’s her secret meeting place, I thought.

  Maybe she’ll be waiting for me there.

  Of course, she will! I told myself, giving myself a pep talk. Why did it take me so long to think of this? It made perfect sense.

  Humming to myself, I started jogging to the door. The hallway was nearly empty.

  I stopped when I saw a familiar figure in the doorway. “Mom!”

  “Hi, Sam.” She waved to me, even though I was standing right in front of her. She had a red- and-white wool cap pulled over her short blond hair, and she was wearing the tattered red ski jacket she always wears.

  She hadn’t been skiing in years. But she liked dressing like a ski bum.

  “Mom — what are you doing here?” I cried, not meaning it to sound as unfriendly as it did. I was eager to get to my bike and ride to Jeffers’ Woods. I didn’t need her here!

  “You didn’t forget about your appointment with Dr. Stone?” she asked, waving her car keys in her hand.

  “The orthodontist? Today?” I cried. “I can’t!”

  “You have to,” she replied sternly, tugging the arm of my jacket. “You know how hard it is to get in to see Dr. Stone.”

  “But I don’t want braces!” I cried, realizing I was sounding a little shrill, a little babyish.

  “Maybe you won’t need them,” Mom said, pulling me to the door. “Maybe you can get by with just a retainer. We’ll do whatever Dr. Stone says.”

  “But Mom — I — I —” I searched my mind for an excuse. “I can’t go with you. I have my bike here!” I cried desperately.

  “Go get it. We’ll put it in the trunk,” she replied without blinking.

  I had no choice. I had to go with her. Sighing loudly, I pushed open the door and hurried past her toward the bike racks.

  I found out I’m going to be wearing braces for at least the next six months. I had another apppointment with Dr. Stone the next week to have them put on.

  I suppose I should have been upset about it. But it was hard to think about braces with Judith, Anna, and the other girls on my mind.

  I kept picturing them wasting away, getting thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker. I kept seeing this terrifying image in my mind. I was in the gym, dribbling the ball back and forth, faster and faster. And Judith, Anna, and the others were lying flat on their backs on the bleachers, trying to watch but too weak to hold their heads up.

  That night after dinner, I was feeling so guilty, I called Judith to see how she was feeling. I think it was the first time in my life I had ever called her.

  Mrs. Bellwood answered. She sounded tired and tense. “Who is this?” she asked.

  I had a sudden impulse to hang up. But I told her, “It’s Samantha Byrd. I’m a friend from school.”

  Some friend.

  “I don’t think Judith can come to the phone,” she replied. “She’s just so weak.”

  “Did the doctor say what —?” I started.

  “I’ll ask Judith if she wants to talk,” Mrs. Bellywood interrupted. I could hear Judith’s little brother shouting something in the background. And I could hear cartoon music from their TV. “Don’t stay on too long,” she instructed.

  “Hello?” Judith answered in a faint, little-girl voice.

  “Oh. Hi, Judith. It’s me. Sam,” I said, trying not to sound nervous.

  “Sam?” Again the faint voice, nearly a whisper.

  “Sam Byrd,” I stammered. “I — I just wondered how you were feeling.”

  “Sam, did you cast a spell on us?” Judith asked.

  I gasped. How did she know?

  15

  “Judith — what do you mean?” I sputtered.

  “All the girls are sick except for you,” Judith replied. “Anna is sick. And so is Arlene. And Krista.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean —” I started.

  “So I think you cast a spell on us,” Judith interrupted.

  Was she joking? I couldn’t tell.

  “I just hope you feel better,” I mumbled awkwardly. I could hear Mrs. Bellwood in the background telling Judith she should get off the phone.

  So I said good-bye and hung up. I was grateful it was a short conversation. But I couldn’t decide if Judith was kidding or not about my casting a spell.

  Her voice was really weak. She sounded so weary and lifeless.

  I felt angry that she had accused me, joke or no joke. That was so typical of Judith. Finding a way to make me angry even when I was calling to be nice.

  But I also felt guilty. Whether Judith had guessed it or not, I had cast a spell on her and the others.

  And now I had to find a way to have the spell removed.

  The next morning, two seats in my class were empty again. Judith and Anna were both absent.

  At lunch, I asked Cory if he wanted to come with me after school to go searching for the strange woman.

  “No way!” he cried, shaking his head. “She’ll probably turn me into a frog or something!”

  “Cory — can’t you take this seriously?” I screamed. Several kids turned to look.

  “Give me a br
eak,” Cory muttered, blushing under his Orlando Magic cap.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m really stressed out — you know?”

  He still refused to keep me company. He made up a lame excuse about having to help his mother clean the basement.

  Who cleans the basement in the middle of winter?

  Cory pretended he didn’t believe my story about the woman and the three wishes. But I had the feeling that maybe he was a little afraid.

  I was afraid, too. Afraid I wouldn’t find her.

  After school, I jumped on my bike and began pedaling toward Jeffers’ Woods.

  It was a gray, blustery day. Enormous dark clouds rolled rapidly over the sky, threatening rain, maybe snow.

  It’s a lot like the day I ran into Clarissa, I thought. For some reason, that fact encouraged me.

  Some kids in my class waved to me and called out. But I rode past them, leaning over the handlebars, shifting gears to pick up speed.

  A few minutes later, Montrose Avenue curved away from the houses that lined both sides, and the bare trees of the woods came into view.

  The tall trees formed a dark wall, darker than the charcoal sky above.

  “She’s got to be here, got to be here,” I repeated in rhythm with my pedaling feet.

  Got to be here, got to be here.

  My heart nearly leaped out of my chest when I saw her, huddled low at the edge of the road. Waiting for me.

  “Hi!” I called out. “Hi! It’s me!”

  Why didn’t she answer?

  16

  As I pedaled closer, my heart pounding happily, I saw that she had her back turned to me.

  She had changed her outfit. She was wearing a purple wool beret and a long black coat down nearly to her ankles.

  I screeched my bike to a halt a few feet behind her, my tires skidding over the pebbly road. “I need to make another wish!” I called breathlessly.

  She turned, and I gasped.

  I stared into a face full of freckles, a young-looking face framed by short, curly blond hair.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me, her expression bewildered.