Curse of the Spider King (24 page)

Mr. Spero, Jett's new English teacher, raised one eyebrow and gave one of his famous, sarcastic smirks. “Well, let's see. Could it be that I thought I'd better make sure my favorite student is keeping up with his literature homework? Um, no. That wasn't it at all.” He winked. “I was here for the game, of course. Quite a game, indeed.”

Jett's eyes flitted nervously. “Uh-huh.”

“After your accident,” Mr. Spero continued, “I didn't think you'd be playing. Seems that fall you took was much less worrisome than was reported. Glad to hear, of course. That last run of yours—Jett, what is the matter?”

“Huh?”

“You are clearly very distracted, and you keep looking over your shoulder.”

“You'll think it's silly.”

“Try me.”

“There was someone there.”

“Who?”

“I don't know. Couldn't see, really. There was just a guy standing there on the field side. Dark coat and hat, kind of spooked me, 'sall.”

Mr. Spero's cocked eyebrow flattened out. “Probably just an NFL scout, Jett,” he replied with a wink. “But I suppose I should look into this. Your parents are waiting in the parking lot. I'm sure they're anxious to take you out for a celebration.”

“Okay, Mr. Spero.”

“Oh, one more thing, Jett. I wonder if your parents would mind if I dropped by your home later this evening.”

“What? Why? Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” Mr. Spero replied. The grin returned. “No, nothing wrong. There are just a few . . . things we need to discuss . . . a unique opportunity.”

With that, Mr. Spero walked right by Jett and entered the tunnel. Jett watched him merge into the shadows. For a moment, it looked to Jett like Mr. Spero had reached inside his coat and removed something.
No way!
Jett thought.
Mr. Spero's packing? No way!

Jett slowly walked across the parking lot, where he found his parents still exuberant, anxious to get going. Jett slid out of his shoulder pads, threw them in the backseat, and sat down.

As the Greens' big truck left the parking lot, Jett watched out of the back window. Jett blinked. He could have sworn he saw a flash of blue light near the tunnel.
Strange.

22

Foresight

AFTER THE bizarre battle in the streets of Ardfern, Jimmy had raced home only to find an unwelcome guest sitting in his family's living room. It was the man from the ul. Jimmy was sure of it. But that was impossible! How did he get here so fast? Ahead of Jimmy, even?

“If yu don't mind,” said Mr. Ogelvie. He stood with the help of a brown walking stick and covered his wavy white hair with a dark cap. “I think I best be headin' home.”

“So soon yu be leavin' us?” Mrs. Gresham asked, clutching her plump, sweatered arms as if she'd caught a chill. She looked to her husband expectantly.

“Aye, so soon?” added Mr. Gresham, obviously just to please his wife; Mr. Gresham was just relieved not to have another hand picking at the dinner roast.

“Me pets need tendin', I'm afraid.” Mr. Ogelvie smiled and looked to Jimmy. “Spiders don't feed themselves, yu know. At least caged ones don't.”

Mrs. Gresham turned to Jimmy. “Mr. Ogelvie is an archenonologist.”

“Arachnologist, my dear,” said the neighbor.

Mr. Gresham chuckled.

“That means he studies insects,” she continued, leering at her husband as if she'd gotten it right all along.

“Technically, that would be entomology,” Mr. Ogelvie said gently. “You could say, I'm more of a specialist.”

Mr. Gresham turned his head to stifle a laugh and avoid his wife's glare.

She frowned at her husband, but turned on a gleaming smile as she spoke about the new neighbor. “He's already given Geoffry a wee spider an' a beautiful cage.” Jimmy looked to his brother, who sat in the corner of the room tapping on the clear plastic of a tiny box.

“I'm a sorry, lad.” Mr. Ogelvie eyed Jimmy. “I was not aware there were
two
boys in this home or I'd be a bringin' another present with me.”

“That's all right,” Jimmy said hesitantly. “There b' plenty of spiders 'round here.”

Mr. Ogelvie smiled like he'd just finished a fine meal. “Aye, that's true, me boy. And they all be needin' food.”

And with those words, every nerve in Jimmy's body caught fire. The muscles in his upper back tightened, and his stomach churned. He couldn't understand why he felt so uncomfortable—even afraid—of the old guy.

Mr. Ogelvie had age spots all over his cheeks and white hair growing in patches like ferns out of his ears. His dark pullover sweater and pleated khakis fit loosely on his spindly frame. Now that Jimmy thought about it, this Mr. Ogelvie couldn't have been the man from the ul, the man fighting against Mrs. Finney. He clearly didn't pose a threat. But something about him made Jimmy nervous. He reasoned that the unexplainable encounter in the street had just rattled him.

Mr. Ogelvie walked to the door, and Jimmy stepped aside. “It's been a pleasure, Greshams,” he announced. “And a pleasure meeting yu now, Master Jimmy.”

Mr. Ogelvie towered above, and Jimmy felt a shudder travel through his whole body. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the old man's farewell.

“I'll be seein' yu again,” said the old man. Something hardened in his faded blue eyes. When no one else could see, he gave Jimmy such a penetrating glare that Jimmy stepped backward. Mr. Ogelvie hobbled over the threshold. With his walking stick adding percussion on the stones outside, he began to sing quietly, “Soon, very soon . . . I'll be coming 'round to meet yu again.”

Jimmy bit on the sides of his cheek to keep from crying out and started to close the door, but Mrs. Gresham pushed herself into the gap between the door and the jamb.

“Thank yu for stoppin' by, Mr. Ogelvie.” She waved. “It's been delightful!”

“The delight, dear people, is all mine.” And with that, the man gave Jimmy one last glance and slipped around the corner of the picket fence. A sudden indignant fury boiled up in Jimmy. The moment his mother was clear of the door, he slammed it. Hard.

“James Lewis Gresham!” his mother yelled, a combination of anger and surprise shrilling her voice.

“Aye, what's wrong with yu, boy?” Mr. Gresham put in. Geoffry looked up at last from his spider box. Thunder rumbled outside.

“I—” Jimmy hesitated, now ashamed.
What is wrong with me?
“I'm sorry, I just—”

“To yur room, young man,” ordered Mrs. Gresham. “I've had quite enough, what with you insultin' our new neighbor and all!”

“But, Mum—”

“I'm not yur mother!”

Jimmy's mouth dropped open. He half-choked on his next breath. She had never said such a thing before. Mrs. Gresham, clearly shocked at her own outburst, covered her mouth with her hand, and looked back and forth between her husband and Jimmy. Jimmy could see tears welling up in her eyes and felt them in his own. She fell into Mr. Gresham's arms and sobbed.

“Look what yu done!” he said. “Now get!”

A mixture of shame and confusion hammered Jimmy as he ran around the couches and up the stairs. He burst through the door to his room and landed on his bed. He buried his head in his pillow, face growing hot from frustration and wet from tears.

Yu knew the danger, now didn't yu?
Jimmy chastised himself.
Believin'
they might love yu the way real parents do . . . left yurself wide open. Now
look at yu,
Jimmy growled. Sure he had known it would hurt, but he'd never dreamed it would hurt like this: unspeakable, excruciating pain, the kind of pain that twists your guts in knots and wracks your body with tremors. He lay there, shaking miserably, as rain pelted the roof overhead and time ticked by.

After his tears dried up, a numbing frustration settled in. He couldn't believe the day he'd had. If there had been anyone he wanted to tell about the fight he'd witnessed, it would have been his parents. But now?

Could it have really been Mrs. Finney and Regis out on the street? And
what was . . . that thing?

Voices from downstairs, raised then hushed, then raised again. Jimmy turned around on the bed and leaned toward his door to listen.

“. . . don't' understand,” Jimmy's mother was saying. “We've done everything for him, but, he's so . . .”

“Strange these days,” said his father.

“Aye. What's gotten into him?”

“Why are yu asking me? I dunno!”

“Well,
yu
said he might be bringin' a wee bit o' baggage with him, but we'd be able to handle it!”

“Oh, don't start that again!” Mr. Gresham slammed his fist in the table. “We both decided to get that boy! And now yu have yur very own, so I cannot help it if yur not wantin' him 'round anymore.”

“I didn't say that, Roger.”

“Aye, yu did, right to his face.”

Jimmy flipped back over and buried his head in his pillow, unable to take anymore. He tried to shut out his crying, but it was impossible. He heard his mother sobbing, too. Or perhaps now she was just
Mrs.
Gresham
.

Although Lochgilphead is not far from Ardfern, the walk to school the next morning couldn't have felt longer. Jimmy's mother had handed him his lunch but said not a word. Jimmy saw her lower lip tremble and then the door to his home shut. The grief of the previous night weighed like a sack full of anvils and briars on Jimmy's shoulders. But now that he was outside again, the unusual events regarding the stranger and Miss Finney and Regis roared back to life once more.

Jimmy left the main road for a shortcut through the moors—vast, rolling plains carpeted with peat moss, patches of long grass, and sedge. As was often the case in the morning, the moors were shrouded in white mist.
Ah, nothing's right anymore
, Jimmy thought.
Nothing
feels safe. Maybe I need to see the school psychologist.

He moved north, away from the loch. Minutes later he rounded the last hill and saw Lochgilphead Central School.
If I hurry, I might
be able to make it before these clouds dump rain on me,
Jimmy thought.

No such luck.

The rain came down in sheets, soaking Jimmy even as he sprinted the rest of the way. He emerged from the moors and raced down the hill to the teachers' parking lot. He saw some of his teachers balancing various colored umbrellas while digging in the trunks of their cars; others holding steaming mugs of coffee, huddled under the side door arch.

Jimmy searched their faces. No Miss Finney. He entered the building, shed his jacket in his locker, and squeaked down the hall. She wasn't in her classroom, either.
Must be a library day,
Jimmy thought as he glanced at the clock. He had ten minutes until homeroom. Plenty of time.

Jimmy eased open the library doors, and there she was, checking out books to a handful of underclassmen. Her dark hair was up in a high ponytail, thin glasses resting on the edge of her nose. She wore a dark-green sweater vest over a gray blouse. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. No medieval warrior princess like the night before. Maybe he was just mistaken, and it was someone else. After all that running through a driving rain, it could have been anyone. But Miss Finney had been there to help him up. And there was no mistaking her. She'd even said, “I'll handle this,” right to his face!

It had to be her. But how to approach her?
Uh, Miss Finney, I was
wondering . . . what were you doing out in the rain fighting a strange man-thing
with long fingers?
That just didn't seem quite right. Not knowing what to say, he waited in line behind the underclassmen. Jimmy watched the clock. Only a couple of minutes left before homeroom. Little heads of blond and curly black bounced up and down in front of the check-out counter. Miss Finney smiled warmly at each one and then sent them on their way with a cherished new treasure. At last, it was Jimmy's turn.

He waited. Maybe she would say something first. She looked above the rim of her glasses at him.

He couldn't stand it. “Miss Finney, yesterday, in the rain yu—”

“Not here, Jimmy.” She put a finger to her lips and glanced at the students who'd gotten in line behind Jimmy.

“But—”

“Not now.” She winced.

Jimmy looked at her sweater near her waist. There was a small spot there, darker than the sweater. “I knew it,” he said. “It jabbed yu, didn't it? Are—”

“Shh, Jimmy Gresham!” she said. “We're in a library, yu know.”

“But yu . . . yu're hurt?”

“Never yu mind.”

Jimmy started to speak again, but Miss Finney raised her voice and said, “Yu've come to pick up yur book, then?”

“Uh . . . I didn't check out anything.”

“Of course, yu did, Jimmy boy. Why, yu put it on a reserve just the other day.”