The Phantom of Oz Page 16

  “Really?”

  “There must be some good in her, but I just can’t see it.”

  “One of the things I love about you—” Oh, Matt. I pulled the phone closer “—is that you want to believe the best in people, but from what you’ve told me, Babette sounds like a textbook narcissist. It can be hard to see their good sides, and they can be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” I remembered Eden saying so too.

  “Exploiting others for their own gain.”

  “Sort of like her TV show.”

  “Yeah.”

  I sighed, partly because I was tired, partly because the talk of Babette brought back my worry about Candy, and partly because I didn’t want to leave Matt but I wanted this touring gig. And I should tell him about it.

  “Give yourself a break,” Matt said. “You’re tired and sick and worried.”

  “I know.” He was right. I’d tell him later, when I felt better.

  “Slow down a little, if you can. Maybe sleep in tomorrow. I really don’t think Candy’s in any serious trouble, at least not—”

  “Isn’t addiction serious? Or bulimia?”

  “Ivy, you didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that I didn’t think that Candy was in the sort of serious trouble that couldn’t wait a couple of hours while you grabbed a little more sleep. Of course addiction and bulimia are serious.”

  Wow, I was tired if I was picking a fight with Matt. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just worried. I was doing some research online today, and it sort of freaked me out. Did you know that eating disorders have the highest death rate of any mental illness?”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. Of course he did. Sometimes I forgot that Matt the boyfriend was also Matt the social worker. “Do you really think Candy has an eating disorder?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t even have to think about it. “Though she may have switched from binging and purging to little blue pills.”

  “Okay. Once Candy turns up, we’ll talk to her, see if we can get her some help. There are some good places here in town.”

  “You’re a good man. Sorry again about jumping on you. And it’s selfish, but I guess I’m also worried about myself. If I don’t find Candy by Thursday, I have to go onstage in her place. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but...”

  “Yeah. Your voice sounds like that detective friend of your uncle’s.”

  “Pink? Oh no.” Pink was not just a man, he also smoked about a pack a day. Of menthols. He sounded like a basset hound crossed with a frog. “Even so, I really can’t take time off. Tell you what, though, I’ll go to sleep right now.” Mostly because I could barely keep my eyes open.

  “Okay. Good night. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter 33

  The Celebrated, But Heartless and Soulless Diva

  I felt pretty awful the next morning—huge snotty head and an ominous tickle in my throat—but I hauled myself out of bed. After drinking a pot of coffee and eating an orange (Vitamin C), I felt marginally better. It’d have to do.

  Logan said he got in between eight and nine. I was at his office at nine, knocking as I let myself in. “Hey, Logan...”

  “Ivy.” Logan sat in his desk chair, reading a graphic novel with his feet propped up on his desk. And he was wearing a kimono. With nothing underneath. I won’t say how I could tell.

  “Um, hi?” I said. “Maybe this isn’t a good time?”

  “It’s fine,” he said, then, “Whoops,” as he noticed his open robe. He adjusted the kimono so that it wasn’t displaying his squiggly bits, then smoothed it with one hand. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Yeah, cool.” It was, made of black brocade material with a gold and red dragon snaking down one of Logan’s hairy legs. “Is it kimono day? I forgot mine.” I wore my typical didn’t-have-the-brain-power-to-think-about-clothes uniform of a t-shirt and jeans skirt.

  “Nah, just washing my blacks. I do it once a week here, for me and the other tech guys. If I didn’t...” He pinched his nose. “Taking clothes to the laundromat just seems like a stretch for some of them. Hey, you have a kimono?”

  “No.” I sat down in a chair next to him. “But now I wish I did.” I could just see myself in some sexy silk number, slipping into it after a day at work, slipping out of it when Matt came by...

  “Dumpster diving, man,” he said. “You can get some pretty cool stuff. Plus I’m sticking it to the fat cat corporations ’cause I’m not buying their new crap.”

  “You found that in the trash?”

  “Yeah. One of the dumpsters I keep an eye on, outside this secondhand shop. This had a couple of rips, but when I showed Eden—she’s awesome, man—she sewed them up for me. See?” He grabbed his kimono to show me, and I closed my eyes.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry again,” he said. “I usually have on underwear.”

  I decided not to ask why he didn’t.

  “You here for the key to the spring room?”

  I nodded.

  “You got a minute?”

  The clock on Logan’s computer said nine fifteen. Uncle Bob was meeting me at the stage door at nine thirty. “Sure.”

  Friendships are funny animals. There were some people I liked from the start—like Candy—people I hoped would become my friends. Other friends sort of snuck up on me, like Eden, and now, Logan. At first glance, they seemed awfully different from me, but once I knew them better, something inside us connected. I really liked Logan, his anti-consumer stance, and even his creepy artistic talent.

  He dropped his bare feet to the floor and scooted his chair up to his desk. “Check this out.” He tapped a few keys. The monitor went dark, then a sort of mist filled the screen. It gathered itself into a figure, like the effect I’d seen at Logan’s Nightmare. “You’re creating a new Lady in White video?” I said.

  He smiled. “Just watch.”

  The figure grew more distinct. No flowing gown this time, just an indistinct body, floating toward the screen headfirst. The body faded away as the head grew nearer and larger. The blurry face became sharper, with crazed eyes and an enormous mouth with a familiar evil smile.

  “It’s Babette!” I said.

  “Yeah.” Logan grinned. “I’m thinking of switching out the ghost in my Nightmare to something truly terrifying.”

  I liked Logan even better. “How’d you do it?”

  “Played around with a video interview I found online. Sort of like how they use live actor’s movements to create animation.”

  The ghost of Babette looked both ethereal and three-dimensional, but the part that Logan had captured the best was the venomous look on her face. It was enough to give you nightmares. I was fascinated in spite of myself. It was like looking into the mouth of evil. Literally.

  “Is her mouth moving?” I said. “What is she saying?”

  Logan pulled up the interview he’d used to make his new ghost. Babette’s strident voice filled the room: “I love working with kids. They cry easier. Especially the fat ones. It’s just hard to tell because the tears disappear into the blubber.”

  “Ooh, I hate her.” I imitated her stupid mean voice, “‘Especially the fat ones.’ Who does she think she is?”

  “Do that again,” said Logan.

  “What?”

  “Imitate Babette. Say the whole line.”

  “No. It’s foul.”

  “Please?”

  “Oh, all right.” After all, I was going to ask him for a favor, borrowing his keys to the spring room. “‘I love working with kids. They cry easier. Especially the fat ones. It’s just hard to tell because the tears disappear into the blubber.’” The words felt like sand in my mouth.

  “You have a gift,” said Logan. “You sound exactly like her.”

  “I don’t think that’s a gift. And it’s probably because of my cold.”


  “It’s still cool. Maybe I’ll have you record something for me later.”

  I didn’t think so—really didn’t want that poison in my mouth—but didn’t say anything since Logan hadn’t given me the keys yet. “Um, I’m meeting my uncle in just a few minutes. Oh, and do you have a flashlight I can borrow? My phone’s almost out of battery. Forgot to plug it in last night.”

  “Sure.” Logan grabbed an orange plastic flashlight from a shelf and handed it to me. Then he patted his kimono-clad hip like he was looking for a pocket. “Crap. I think the keys are in my black jeans pocket. In the washing machine.” He stood up. “I’ll get them. Go get your uncle and meet me back here in five.”

  Chapter 34

  Feeling Their Blood Freeze In Their Veins

  I jogged to my dressing room, plugged in my phone, and then trotted to the stage door. I could see Uncle Bob waiting on the other side of the glass door, right on time. The security guard buzzed him in.

  We walked down the hall to Logan’s office. “So,” my uncle said, “you really think Candy could be in this well?”

  “No, but...” I didn’t want tell my uncle about the figure, image, mirage, whatever it was I saw in the pool. “I found a MoonPie wrapper. She must have gone there.”

  “Or someone else ate a MoonPie.”

  “Who else around here even knows about MoonPies? I’ve never seen them in the stores. Candy orders them online. I think they’re a Southern thing.”

  “She could’ve given one to somebody.”

  “Would you please just come look at the well with me? I just want make sure there’s not anything in it. Maybe sweep the bottom or whatever they do to look for...”—I was afraid if I said “bodies” it might turn out to be true—“...stuff.”

  “Didn’t you say you got to this place through a broom closet?”

  I nodded.

  “How about using a broom to sweep the pool?”

  “Duh!” I slapped my forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?” I actually did think of that. I just didn’t want to go back to the spring alone.

  I knocked on Logan’s office door. “Um, Logan’s probably wearing a kimono,” I whispered to my uncle. “And nothing else. Just to let you know.”

  Uncle Bob gave a small sigh. “Theater people.”

  Logan opened the door, yes, still clad in only his kimono. He stepped into the hall and offered his hand to Uncle Bob. “Nice to meet you.”

  The actor playing the Tin Man came up behind us. “Thanks for letting me borrow your car.” He tossed a set of keys to Logan, then handed him a twenty. “For gas. Wanted to have brunch with my aunt in Scottsdale,” he said to us. Touring actors didn’t usually travel with cars.

  “Pretty nice of him,” I said to the Tin Man as Logan walked back into his office to stash his cash.

  “Omigod, his car is a mess,” the Tin Man whispered to me. Then louder to Logan, “Hey, do you have an ant farm in there?”

  “Nah. They probably just like french fries. I think there are some under the seat.”

  The Tin Man made a strangled noise and left. Logan came back to the door. “Here you go.” He handed another set of keys to me. “Don’t let Ivy lock herself in this time,” he said to Uncle Bob and closed the door.

  “You were locked in?” my uncle said quietly as we continued down the hall.

  “That’s another reason I wanted you along.” I stopped in front of the broom closet and opened the door. “Last time I was in there, the door closed and locked behind me. I don’t know how it happened. Logan let me out.”

  “So you want me to follow you through a secret passage to a haunted spring where you think there could be a body and where someone maybe tried to trap you?”

  “Yep.” I walked into the closet.

  “Good thing you’ve got a brave uncle.”

  I grabbed a broom with a long handle. “Follow me.” I pushed on the shelving and the passageway yawned open.

  “Wow.” Uncle Bob followed me into the dark corridor. “This is creepy. When they filmed the ghost show, they didn’t go this way. I think they went through the hotel or—Aah!”

  “That’s just Logan’s Nightmare.” I shined my flashlight on the macabre scene. “Oh, look, he added a mummy.”

  “Nice.” Uncle Bob panted. “You could’ve given your poor old uncle a heart atta—”

  “Aah!” I screamed.

  “Aah!” he screamed back. We clutched each other. “Are you trying to scare me?” he whispered.

  “No. I felt something wet on the back of my leg. I’m afraid to look. It might be a leech or something.”

  “In Phoenix?” Uncle Bob looked over my shoulder. “I see what it is. Don’t move.”

  “What is it?” I tried not to shiver.

  “Well, it’s black and hairy and...”

  The sensation was creepy, but also sort of familiar, like a...

  Dog nose.

  “Toto,” I said to the little terrier. He nudged my calf again. “How did you get in here? Did we leave the door open?”

  “Must have, though I could’ve sworn we closed it. Should we take him back upstairs?”

  “Nah. He’s really well-trained. He can come with us.” Then the live beings in the spring room would certainly outnumber any ghosts of dead ones.

  I stepped into the short hallway and unlocked the old door that led to the spring room. I couldn’t smell the damp—my clogged-up nose—but felt its coolness on my skin.

  I held the heavy wooden door for Uncle Bob, who walked in ahead of me. I pushed it open as far as it would go. The door stayed in place, but I didn’t want take any chances, so I looked around for something to prop it open with. I’d planned to bring a doorstop but forgot. Didn’t have anything on me except the broom and Logan’s flashlight. We needed the broom, so I placed the flashlight in between the door and the door jamb. Uncle Bob had a better one anyway.

  “Wow.” My uncle played the light from his high-powered flashlight over the room’s wooden beams and concrete and rock walls. “I thought the TV crew probably made this place look creepier, but they didn’t have to do anything at all.”

  “Do you see a MoonPie wrapper? Just a bit of one?”

  He slowly swept the floor with his light. “Nope.”

  “Maybe it fell in the water?”

  Uncle Bob knelt down next to the pool and shone the light into the water. The beam only lit a few feet of the murky water. “Don’t see anything. Do you have any idea how deep this is?”

  “Deep enough to drown yourself, I guess, so...what, at least six feet?”

  “Sounds about right.” Uncle Bob set down his flashlight. It made a white circle of light on the rock wall, like a theater spotlight, and lit the rest of the room with a gray ambient light. He lay down on the gritty floor and stretched out, his shoulders hanging above the water. “I think I can reach the bottom with the broom from—hey!” he said. “Grab the dog, would you?”

  “Good boy. It’s all right,” I said as I approached Toto, who had a firm grip on my uncle’s pant leg. “He’s not going to fall in, boy.” Toto growled at me. “Let go now.” I pried his jaws off my uncle’s pants’ hem and picked him up and set him on the opposite side of the pool where there was less temptation.

  “Hand me the broom, will ya?” asked Uncle Bob. I did. He lowered it into the pool until his hand was just at the surface. “Haven’t hit bottom yet.” He carefully slid his hand, then his arm into the water. “Weird,” he said. “The water’s warm and sort of...thick feeling.”

  “Creepy, right?”

  “Hey. There’s the bottom...But it’s tough to sweep with one hand.” He grabbed the broom with his other hand and leaned in, both hands on the handle. Good thing he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. “Tough to sweep with two too.”

  “Careful.” I hovered nearby, read
y to grab him if he fell forward. Toto hovered too, paws on the opposite edge of the pool, staring at Uncle Bob’s broom.

  “Hey,” he said again. “Grab my light, will you?”

  I did, my heart sinking like one of the stones in the Lady’s pockets. “Did you...feel something?”

  “No. Broom floats too much.” He nodded his head at the center of the pool. “But I thought I saw something.”

  “What color was it?” I shone the light into the black water.

  “What color? Kinda white, I guess.”

  “Ew!” A swarm of cockroaches appeared from nowhere. I tried to sidestep them as they headed out the door. Then it slammed behind them.

  The flashlight I held shut off. Toto went crazy. Arf, arf, arf!

  “What the hell?” Uncle Bob sat up. I could tell because he clocked me in the jaw. I dropped the flashlight.

  “Ow!” I said, then “Toto!” Arf, arf, arf! The little dog’s shrill barks echoed off the stone walls. “Quiet. Stop, boy. Stop.” He kept barking. Arf, arf, arf!

  “I got the flashlight,” said Uncle Bob. Several clicks, like a flashlight being switched on and off. “But it’s dead.”

  Rubbing my jaw, I felt my way toward the door, hoping I wouldn’t kneel on any cockroaches. I didn’t, thank God. I was even happier that the door hadn’t closed completely, thanks to the flashlight jammed in it, but there was no light from the hall outside, either.

  Arf, arf, arf! “Can you hand me the broom?” I yelled to be heard over the dog noise.

  “No.”

  “No? Are you all right?”

  “I am, but the broom’s not. Or maybe it is, but it’s hard to tell since I dropped it in the spring.”

  “Oh. Um...Can you slide the flashlight to me?” Arf, arf, arf! “Toto, stop.”

  “Yeah.” The flashlight made a grating sound as it slid toward me on the concrete floor. I followed the sound, grabbed the light, and tried to turn it on, just in case. Nothing. I exchanged Uncle Bob’s flashlight for the one I borrowed from Logan, so that his now served as the doorstop.

  Arf, arf, arf! “Toto,” I said, flicking on the light. He stopped barking.