The Impossible Knife of Memory(52)

“This is a magic amulet,” I whispered into his ear. “I am an owl, bird of the night. I see everything. I know everything.”

“Do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Yes. Beware, boy, or I’ll turn you into a toad and eat you.”

*

We followed Garrett for hours: running up driveways, cutting through yards and gardens, begging him to share his loot and laughing as he found a million and one reasons why he wouldn’t. His Iron Man costume was one of the best out there, but I don’t think he cared. For a while, we walked with some of his buddies. Their parents wore costumes, too, video game characters and football players and vampires, lots of middle-aged vampires, some sipping from coffee go-cups that did not have any coffee in them, given how often they tripped over their own feet.

Topher spent a while on the phone, lagging behind and talking into it so quietly I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Gracie gave him a dirty look when he caught up to us and pulled away when he tried to put his arm around her waist.

“What’s going on?” Finn asked.

“Party at the quarry is hot.” Topher kept his voice low enough that the parents ahead of us wouldn’t hear him.

“No,” Gracie said.

“The place doesn’t have ghosts,” Topher said. “I asked. But it does have Jell-O shots, dancing, and the possibility of a bong or two.”

“Nothing good happens there,” Gracie said. “I’m not going.”

“All those stories are exaggerated,” he said. “It’s just a way to get girls nervous so they’ll want their boyfriends to hold them tight.”

“Well, maybe you should find a different girl,” Gracie said.

All that magic in the air, squealing kids, spooky music, free candy, and those two had to fight. I was beginning to see signs of zombification in both of them, but Halloween was the wrong time to bring up the subject and, besides, I had better things to do.

Finn and I took advantage of every shadow to sneak in kisses. When thin-boned fingers of clouds raced over the moon, it felt like I could soar.

Gracie’s mom had given permission for Finn and Topher to hang out until midnight watching movies with us, so when Garrett’s bag was full, the four of us headed back toward the Rappaports’.

“I think you need some sweats,” Finn said for the fiftieth time. “You can’t claim to be a very wise owl if you get pneumonia.”

“I’m not just an owl, I am Athena.” I flapped dramatically, twirling so he wouldn’t see my teeth chatter. “Goddess of wisdom and weaving and weapons and cheeseburgers. Goddesses do not wear sweatpants.”

“They do when they’re in human form. I’m pretty sure it’s a Goddess Law.”

I sneezed. “Goddess Law? I am so using that.”

“I’m not kissing you again until you get something warmer.”

“How can you be boring and hot at the same time?”

We caught up with Gracie, Topher, and Iron Man and told them we were detouring past my house and would meet them in a few minutes. Finn insisted on draping his coat over my shoulders, and did it gently so I wouldn’t lose any feathers. The warmth felt better than I wanted to admit.

The rental car parked in the driveway brought me crashing back to Earth.

“Ugh,” I said. “My father has a date. Stay outside, okay? The sight of her might blind you.”





_*_ 55 _*_

They froze, caught in the act of laughing.

A blue cloth covered the dining room table. Two long, white candles stood in the middle of it, flames jumping. A glass beer mug filled with grocery store flowers sat between the candles, next to matching salt-and pepper-shakers I’d never seen before. Music was playing from a phone at the end of the table, the crappy, soft oldies Dad hated.

My father stood quickly. The napkin that had been in his lap fluttered to the ground. “I thought you were sleeping at Gracie’s.”

“I need my sweatpants.”

He’d shaved. Found the iron, too, because his khakis didn’t have any wrinkles. Neither did his shirt, a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His old watch was strapped on his left wrist. He was wearing a tie, too, an honest-to-goodness tie, knotted with military precision.

I hit the switch to the left of the door and turned on the living room lights.

“Didn’t think you’d be home till tomorrow,” Dad said, blinking. “Yeah, um . . . well.”

Trish reached out and muted the phone.

Threat

“Why is she here?” My voice sounded like it came out of someone else’s mouth, someone calm, someone whose heart beat slowly.

Under the table, Spock whimpered.

“I invited her,” he said.

“Are you crazy?” I asked, still calm, though my hands were damp.

“Hello, Hayley.” Trish stood up, setting her napkin beside her plate. She took a few steps in my direction and stopped. “Wow. You look so grown-up.”

“Wow,” I said, calm, calm, calm. “You look old. No, not ‘old,’ that’s not the right word. ‘Diseased,’ maybe.”

“Whoa, princess.” Dad put his hands up as if he were being held at gunpoint. “That’s not necessary.”

“Not necessary?” I asked. “When did this happen, this invitation? Was it before or after you told me she coming? Oh, wait. You didn’t tell me, did you?”