The 13th Sign Part 7

The teen behind the counter whipped his dyed-black bangs out of his eyes, pushed up the sleeves on his red plaid s.h.i.+rt, and ripped off a ticket. He tossed it on the counter, closed his eyes, and resumed bobbing his head to the music. Ellie slid the money to him, but he didn't even pick it up.

"Here." She held the ticket out to me. Was she smirking or smiling? "Let's test our luck."

The lottery ticket said, "Your Lucky Stars: 12 Chances to Win!" Twelve scratch-off patches were arranged in a circle on a zodiac calendar, Aries through Pisces.

"Ellie!" Brennan whispered. "You bought a lotto ticket?"

But I was already scratching off the gray gunk with my thumbnail. I started at the top with Aries and worked my way through each sign, just knowing I'd see a "You Win!" under one of the patches.

Under each patch was a "No." And not just a "No," but a rejection unique to that sign, from Aries, "Yeah, right." To Libra, "Try again!" To Leo, "Nope." To Pisces, "Better Luck Next Time!"

"I lost." My hands grew clammy. This twelve-sign zodiac calendar taunted me, teased me, predicted me the loser.

Somehow, I still had a hard time believing that horoscopes could define me, could predict my actions and reactions. That these Keepers could pull a string and I would bow like a puppet. Don't I have some sort of say in the matter?

I tore the lottery ticket into tiny, fierce pieces and threw them on the floor. I stormed out, clutching the map.

Outside, I breathed in cool air, trying to control some of this orange anger. It was harder to do than I ever imagined. I shook, I was so angry. Brennan laid a gentle hand on my elbow, but I shrugged it off. And great-guilt now, too.

The door buzzer screamed into the cool night air. The convenience store clerk came out and plucked an earbud from one of his ears. "Hey!" he shouted.

Rats. He knew we weren't eighteen. Or he was ticked that I threw that torn-up ticket all over the floor. So this is what it felt like to forget the rules.

"Hey, sorry-" I started. But he collapsed, melting into the shadows beneath the neon-splattered sidewalk. In the blue-green light, I watched the wires of his headphones stretch and thicken and curl, turning into yellowish horns. His plaid s.h.i.+rt grew s.h.a.ggy, morphing into coa.r.s.e spotted fur. Before I could even turn to run, a small goat galloped from the rotten mist and head-b.u.t.ted me in the gut.

Oof! I dropped the map. The goat slurped it up with a disgustingly long pink tongue. He chewed once, gulped, then turned and trotted into invisibility. It obviously wasn't time for my Challenge with this Keeper yet.

"See you later, Capricorn," I uttered, clutching my stomach.

"Let's just get another-" Brennan turned toward the store but stopped.

The convenience store was gone. A shadowy, boarded-up building with bars on the windows stood there instead.

One of the Ellies marched away, and we followed. Like a whisper, Gemini was beside me. When I saw her, I honestly couldn't remember if she'd been walking with us the whole time or not.

"Why don't you stay with us?" I asked.

She pulled her manicured fingernails through her hair. "It's better if the others don't know I'm helping you. They...wouldn't be pleased." She paused. "Do you want me here?"

The question surprised me, but the sharpness of my answer surprised me even more: "All I want is to get to my Nina."

Gemini nodded. "You've lost someone before."

Warmth flashed through me. Had I lost him? Or had he left? Lost or left?

My dad's fis.h.i.+ng boat had been found empty off the Cameron Jetty. The boat itself was fine, like it had just run ash.o.r.e. But my dad, an excellent fisherman and boater, had vanished. They dredged the bottom of the sea with a huge ugly claw for a week. Nothing rose but sand and mud. Nothing.

Right after he disappeared, I played the lost or left game for months. Nina finally convinced me, without a doubt, that we'd lost him. Now, though, I wasn't so sure.

Whoever said that loss gets easier with time was a liar.

Here's what really happens: The s.p.a.ces between the times you miss them grow longer. Then, when you do remember to miss them again, it's still with a stabbing pain to the heart. And you have guilt. Guilt because it's been too long since you missed them last.

Gemini put her hand on my shoulder. Surprisingly, I didn't s.h.i.+rk from it.

"Those wounds take a long time to heal."

I cracked my knuckles. Yes, they did, and I didn't want to reopen them now.

For blocks and blocks, we followed Ellie in silence. Was everyone else wondering which sign we'd meet up with next? Wondering how we'd defeat them? Wondering if we'd ever get back to "normal"? Wondering how we got here?

Here. I blinked at the bulldozer crane under the orangey yellow light in the distance. Were we-?

"No," Brennan breathed. Then he sprinted forward and pushed what might be his sister from behind. "We're back at the bulldozer! You led us the wrong way!"

I grabbed the Ellie who had been leading us by the wrist. My eyes darted between her and the other Ellie, who stood away from our group, blinking through tears.

"You led us backwards," I whispered. "Ellie-my friend Ellie-wouldn't sabotage me like this."

The Ellie whose wrist I held started to tremble. "Jalen," she whispered. "Let's just go home, okay? Home? I'm scared, and I don't want to do this anymore."

I looked over at the other Ellie. "She's lying, Jalen. Don't listen to her. I want to help you."

"I'm not lying," this Ellie squeaked. She shook so hard her messenger bag slipped off her shoulder. "I'm not."

I closed my eyes and my head fell back. When I opened my eyes again, I was looking into the dark night sky. A few more stars were visible now. My victories, twinkling down from above.

I wasn't certain, still. I sighed to prevent exploding and released Ellie's wrist. "Okay, where are we? How do we get to Algiers?"

The street signs told me nothing. I looked to Brennan. "Algiers?"

Brennan's head snapped from landmark to landmark, like he was trying desperately to find something, anything that would tell him which direction we should go. The river. Before, he'd always used the river as his compa.s.s.

Now, he bit his lip and looked at me with wild eyes. "I don't know."

It was the first time I'd seen a true weakness in After Brennan. I didn't like it.

We were still standing there, trying to figure out east from west when a familiar voice whispered from the shadows, "You came back!"

Dillon! I smiled at the thought of him. But I frowned at the sight of him. He stumbled into the light with a limp.

Oh, no! Why didn't I insist we come back for him? Why? Because of some stupid deadline, that's why.

The Ellies glommed onto to him, cooing and petting him. "Dillon, are you okay?" "Where does it hurt, Dillon? Where?"

But Dillon just chuckled. "Hey, I'm alright. Just a sprained ankle. Got it trying to make some heroic leap out of that dozer. But what are y'all doing here? You got a deadline to meet!"

I shook my head. "Forget that," I said. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Gemini took a look at his puffy ankle. She tore a strip of fabric off the hem of her toga with her teeth and wrapped it.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said with a wince. "Didn't even use up one of my nine lives." He tossed back his head and laughed so boisterously, we couldn't help but join in. "Well, what are we waiting for?" said a newly bandaged Dillon. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his tuba with a grin and started limping away. "Follow me."

We walked for hours and miles, hours and miles, the dried crab on our skin crusty and itchy, the dried crab on our clothes stinky and crunchy. Every noise in the night made us jump. Around every corner, something lurked, waiting in attack mode. We were sure of it. It made a long walk longer.

And my feet were dragging. Not because I was tired, not really. I was-for the first time since we started this journey-unsure. Dillon had been hurt. And that stupid lottery ticket deeming me a loser. What had I done, unlocking that lock? And worse, it didn't appear that I could do anything to undo it. Except keep going.

When we arrived at the ferry at Algiers Point, the sun was peeking over the horizon, a tangerine sun warming the sky in shades of pink and purple and gray. The bells of Saint Louis Cathedral across the river chimed six o'clock.

Six o'clock. We'd only traveled about two and a half miles since last night. We still had another six or seven to go before 8:30 tonight. And still ten Keepers to defeat.

The ferry ran every fifteen minutes, and one was not docked at the station yet. Brennan and I sat on a concrete bench in the ferry station and looked out over the expanse of the muddy Mississippi River. Gemini insisted on looking at Dillon's ankle, at both Ellies' cuts. I studied her again. Did she know which Ellie was my Ellie? If so, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it.

My toes tapped, waiting on that darned ferry, but we'd have to cross the river by boat. My toes bouncing on the metal floor seemed to ask, Lost or left? Lost or left? The question I hadn't asked about my dad since I was nine was back. Yet another thing I'd unlocked: insecurities about my dad. Super.

Was I nervous to get on this boat? Was that it? I couldn't tell. I hoped not. We didn't have time to make it to the Crescent City Connection Bridge.

Brennan placed his hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing. Had he heard my feet tapping out those silly questions, too? He smiled, and a new kind of warmth flushed my skin.

Brennan had once been a friend. Well, he'd been nice-my best friend's nice older brother. But then my dad's accident happened, and Brennan faded into the background. That was okay-a lot of people didn't know what to say to me. But when he finally started paying attention to me again, it had been an insult here, a jab there. Remembering it now, I jerked my knee away from his hand.

His forehead wrinkled. "Things were really different before, huh? And you remember it?"

I nodded at the pavement.

I heard him swallow. "Was I-you know? A good person?"

I sniffled, then felt hot. "Yeah. Yes." I cracked my knuckles.

Brennan laughed. "You're a horrible liar, you know that?"

"I used to be great at it."

He shrugged. "Not exactly a skill worth having."

I nodded and craned my neck, looking for the ferry.

"We'll get there, Jalen," Brennan said.

I couldn't sit still. Lost or left? Stupid feet. "I know."

One of the Ellies jumped up and stood in front of us. "What if we don't get there-huh? Jalen, do you know what will happen if you fail one of these challenges? Did you even bother asking?" She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me.

"No, I guess I didn't," I murmured. That outcome hadn't really occurred to me, not until that lottery ticket. I had no idea what would happen to me if I failed. I only knew that I didn't want to know. "But I can't exactly quit now."

The other Ellie scoffed. "Jalen won't fail. She knows what she's doing, don't you, Jalen?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't lie.

The first Ellie's face crumpled. I stood and hugged her, unsure if I was comforting a friend or walking into some sort of trap. "Please don't fail, Jalen," she whispered into my hair. "I don't want to find out what happens if you do."

It sounded almost-almost-like my best friend used to sound. What I wouldn't give to see her right now.

I bounced on the b.a.l.l.s of my feet. Lost or left? "I won't."

Dillon clapped his hands together loudly and hopped off the bench next to us. "You guys are a bunch of downers. C'mon! Let's rock this joint!" He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his tuba case and flipped open the s.h.i.+ny bra.s.s locks.

I winced-more locks. But Dillon pulled out a gleaming bra.s.s tuba-a smallish one, its horn the size of a basketball-and threw it over his head. He s.h.i.+mmied into it, then jerked his head at the trio of musicians that played next to the Louis Armstrong statue outside the terminal.

"Let's go!" He grinned his Ches.h.i.+re cat grin. His ankle seemed to be feeling better. Which instantly made me feel better.

The trio-a trumpet player, a saxophonist, and a trombone player-had the trombone case sprawled open in front of them, catching spare change from the commuters headed to work on the ferry. The music their instruments made blended together like the ingredients for ice cream-sweet stuff that when combined made something cool and creamy and extra special. They smoothed right through Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World."

The song wound down, and Dillon showed the trio his tuba. "Mind if we make it a quartet, fellas?" The musicians didn't say anything, but transitioned the music to "When the Saints Go Marching In." It was a big song that needed a big sound, like a tuba. Dillon hopped right in.

And he was horrible. His blasts and blurps bounced off the statue, off the metal side of the ferry terminal, and crashed into each other in midair. It was a catfight of musical notes-howling, yowling notes, notes so loud and so awful, it seemed impossible one human and one tuba could make them.

But he was having so much fun. He kicked his legs out in front of him, he twirled in circles, he swayed that honking tuba side to side. He hopped around on the sidewalk, his tuba burping forth bra.s.sy blasts. I couldn't help but get swept up in his joy. I started clapping along. Both Ellies danced.

Dillon took his mouth off his mouthpiece long enough to shout to Brennan, "Pick it up on the bucket, dude!" He pointed his tuba at a yellow bucket near the trombone player's feet.

Brennan blushed. I nudged him with my elbow. "Go on," I whispered in his ear. I felt him s.h.i.+ver. "You can't be any worse than Dillon."

Brennan grinned, nodded, and pointed at the bucket. The trombone player smiled and nudged the bucket toward Brennan with his toe. He sat on the curb and tucked the yellow bucket upside-down between his knees.

Brennan's palms slid and whacked and thrummed a drumbeat so steady that I swear those musicians sat up taller, played faster. He knew exactly when to tilt the bucket to get a better boom from the thing. Between Brennan's drumming and Dillon's deafening tuba blurts, I couldn't stop grinning.

Bliss! Suns.h.i.+ne swelled through me, warming me to my fingertips and toenails. My cheeks began to ache from all the smiling, my stomach clenched from all the laughing.

Wasn't I headed somewhere? It could wait. This was too much fun. When was the last time I had fun? I deserved this.

And then, silence. The song came to an all-too-abrupt end, like screeching brakes on a car. The trio nodded. Dillon and Brennan had drawn a small crowd, a crowd that was forking over dollar bills.

Brennan stood, blushed. "Thanks, fellas."

The trombone player nodded. "Anytime, kid. You got a real heartbeat on those things, you hear?"

Brennan beamed. And I laughed. They didn't say a thing about Dillon's talent.

"Ferry's here," Brennan said. "C'mon."

The boat chugged up and slipped into the dock. We dragged ourselves toward the entrance. I wasn't sure if my hesitation came from fear of the Keepers or fear of the ferry.

The five of us-me, Brennan, Dillon, and the Ellies-crossed through the echoing metal terminal to get to the second story of the ferry. Below us, cars clanged and clattered onto the wide parking deck that took up the whole lower level. I jumped at every boom those cars made as they loaded onto the boat.

But I was doing it. I was getting onto the ferry! I hadn't made it this close to a boat in four years. I wished I could share this triumph with Ellie. But not only did I not know which Ellie was mine, she wouldn't remember my paralyzing fear of boats, anyway.

I used to love riding the ferry into the city. My dad once said it looked like a floating tiered wedding cake. A ferry ride always meant something exciting was in my future.