The Psychozone Read online

  I didn’t sleep much that night. I was too excited, knowing there was a monkey not far from me.

  Morning finally came. After a quick bowl of cereal—despite what everyone might say, I don’t live on bananas—it was time to see the monkey. Maybe, I told myself as I headed out, the Crow Lady is just a nice, lonely old woman. Maybe she’ll be thrilled to have company and will let me play with her monkey. Maybe it’s becoming too much for her to care for and she’ll give it to me.

  Wrapped in my thoughts, I reached the Crow Lady’s house at the end of Spruce Street. There was an iron fence in front, but the gate had rusted off its hinges long ago. I went up the walkway. Leaves and small twigs crunched beneath my feet. Tall grass and weeds crept from the yard onto the cracked concrete. Ahead, the porch was coated in chipped and blistering gray paint. The railing leaned out, waiting for the next strong wind to shove it over.

  Crows gathered on every inch of the walkway. They hopped aside when I came close, then scuttered back to where they’d been. It was odd—there didn’t seem to be any squirrels. Everywhere else there were lots of squirrels. Here, nothing but crows.

  I took a deep breath and put my foot on the first step. I paused there for an instant, but I knew that if I waited to find more courage I would never reach the door. Here goes. I pushed myself up the steps. The old wood creaked beneath my feet. One board tilted, rocking slightly under my shoe.

  I was on the porch, right in front of the door. There were small windows to the right of the door, running from the floor to the ceiling. A couple of the panes were cracked. One was missing, replaced by a piece of cardboard and old, yellowing tape.

  I wasn’t sure whether to peek through a window or knock on the door. If I tried to look and she caught me, she would never let me inside. But if I knocked and she told me to go away, I wouldn’t get a chance to see the monkey, either.

  The door opened.

  A hand snaked out and clamped around my wrist. I gasped as I felt the finger bones grating against my flesh like a trap made of dried sticks. I looked up into the face of the Crow Lady. This close, I couldn’t even tell her age. She might have been the same age as my mom; she might have been older than my grandmother. But her face was hard; it was full of meanness, like someone who was always looking for a reason to be angry.

  “What do you want?” she asked. Her voice was barely louder than the crackle of dead leaves on the ground.

  “I … uh …”

  “Are you selling cookies? I don’t want any cookies. I hate cookies.”

  “Yeah, cookies …” I looked past her and forgot everything else. Behind her, across the room in the far corner, was the most wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful monkey I had ever seen—a gibbon with dark fur and white paws. My heart melted. The poor creature was crammed into a cage just big enough for a large dog. It looked at me and bared its teeth. I tried to take a step toward it, but the Crow Lady tightened her grip on my wrist.

  “I said I don’t want any cookies.”

  “Sure, okay.” I pulled back. She held on to me for an instant, then let go. I stumbled, almost falling off the porch. The door slammed. I turned and ran. Crows scattered and took flight all around me in an explosion of frantic wings and wild caws. I didn’t slow down until I reached home.

  That poor monkey. I had to do something for it. It must be miserable in that small cage. I had to set it free. I couldn’t wait. I’d do it tonight.

  A million endings wove through my mind as I waited for evening. I saw myself setting the wonderful monkey free. I saw myself bringing it home. I saw myself running away with it to the jungle, far from the people who didn’t understand, far from the ignorant kids who laughed at my devotion. I would hug it and it would hug me back, and we would be happy.

  When I returned an hour after sunset, the house was dark except for one light on the second floor. I waited. At least the crows had gone to sleep. Finally, that last light went out.

  I must have spent half an hour making my way to the door. Every step I took, leaves crackled beneath my feet. Every board creaked, every twig snapped. I kept waiting for the light to flare back on.

  It didn’t.

  Finally, I had my hand on the knob. It turned. I pushed, but the door didn’t open. It was locked. I looked at the piece of cardboard that was taped where the window had been and realized it was at the same height as the doorknob.

  I don’t believe I’m doing this, I thought as I pressed my fingers against the cardboard. It fell free with barely a protest as the old tape pulled loose.

  Inside, across the room, the monkey made a quiet sound—almost a sob.

  “I’m coming,” I whispered as quietly as I could.

  I reached through the window frame and turned the lock. The click echoed through the house like an explosion. I waited a minute, then opened the door.

  I felt as if I had stepped into a cave, but the whimpers of the monkey guided me to the cage. My eyes began to adjust. My lovely monkey gripped the bars and stared at me, still crying those sad sobs.

  I stuck a finger through the bars and scratched its head. “You’ll be out in a minute,” I whispered. It almost seemed to purr.

  I lifted the latch, flinching at the light scrape of metal against metal. The door flipped open. “Come here,” I whispered.

  The monkey jumped into my waiting arms. I couldn’t imagine a happier moment. I hugged it. It looked up at me. It wrapped its arms around my neck and hugged me back. It kissed my cheek. I felt the thrill of knowing that all my dreams and wishes had come true. This was the most glorious moment of my life.

  “You’re mine,” I said.

  The pain ripped through my face in a blinding flash.

  “Awwwww—!”

  I screamed before I could stop myself. I pulled at the monkey. Its paws tangled in my hair. Its teeth dug into my cheek.

  Behind me, rising above my screams, I heard sounds like roaring winds. I spun, still trying to pull the monkey from my face.

  She came down the stairs and faced me. Her expression filled me with such fear that, for an instant, I forgot the pain that burned across my face. Never had I seen so much hate in someone’s eyes.

  The wind flung the door open with a crash and blasted through the house. Crows flooded in, filling the air. The monkey screeched and leaped from my face. It escaped through the door in an instant.

  The Crow Lady howled in rage. She started shouting words I didn’t understand. She stepped closer. Spit flew from her lips as she yelled. It burned where it touched my face. I raised my hand to my cheek, feeling a jagged rip in my flesh from the monkey’s teeth.

  I looked at my hand. The world froze for an instant as the strangeness of what I saw sank into my numbed mind. This wasn’t my hand. It couldn’t be. It was changing, growing smaller and darker. I couldn’t watch. I closed my eyes. But I could still feel the change as it spread across my body. I screamed again and everything faded inward until the world was blackness.

  The Crow Lady’s voice woke me. “You’ll do,” she said in a soothing tone as she leaned over me. “Not as pretty as the last, not as smart as my crows, but you’ll be mine nonetheless.” She looked around the room, then back at me. Crows were perched everywhere. They walked across the floor and pecked at the rug. “Cats and dogs are crows,” she said. “And squirrels are crows. But children are special.”

  She stood straight and I realized she towered above me. The world had changed. It was larger. Strange smells, sharp and strong, flooded over me. All my senses were different. I grabbed the bars with my paws. The cage seemed much bigger now that I was inside it. I felt my tail flicker behind me. I tried to speak, but my throat and tongue could no longer form human words. So I screamed. And then I sobbed.

  AS YOU SAY

  I had no idea Tonya had all that power. None of us knew. If we did, we never would have taken her doll and teased her. We thought she was a normal kid like the rest of us. Still, considering the basically harmless nature of our behavior, I think her r
eaction was way too extreme. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I’m pretty sure she went too far.

  “A curse on all of you,” she shouted, pointing at us while we tossed her doll around.

  I sort of laughed. I know the others did. I could hear Larry’s loud laugh, along with Ken’s. Mike was chuckling. I’m sure Terry was laughing, too. But I felt a bit sorry for Tonya. So I reached over and grabbed the doll from Mike and threw it back to her.

  “We were just having some fun,” I said.

  “A curse,” she said again, ignoring the doll that lay crumpled at her feet. “Beware what you say, beware what you do. From this moment on, all your words will come true.”

  “Oh wow, what a curse,” Larry said. He laughed even louder. Then he turned away from her and said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  I waved at the gnats that had gathered around my head, then followed the rest of the gang. The bugs were bad this year.

  “Did you hear her?” Mike said. “She really has a wild imagination. A curse. Hah.” He swiped at the bugs.

  I looked back. Tonya was still there, watching us, smiling. Something about the sight made me shiver. But it was stupid to worry about things that can’t exist. I certainly didn’t believe in curses.

  Until two minutes later.

  That’s when Larry waved at his head and said, “These bugs are eating me alive.”

  The next part is a bit hard to describe. Suddenly, there was a cloud of gnats around him. Then more. And then even more. In seconds, Larry was covered with gnats. There was this big, black, buzzing Larry-shaped mass of insects. Then the gnats flew away. They left nothing behind. Larry was gone.

  The rest of us just stared at each other for a moment. Mike, who never could keep his mouth shut, was the next to speak. “She did it,” he said. “It’s real … the curse. I’m sunk.”

  The instant the words left his lips, I knew he was in deep trouble. I suspect it took Mike a second longer than that to catch on, but by the time he did, he was already up to his ankles in the ground and sinking fast.

  That was it for him. He sank from sight. The ground swallowed him like pudding swallows a spoon. He left no more of a trace than Larry.

  We stood there, afraid to talk.

  “Any ideas?” Ken finally said. He and Terry looked at me. I was supposed to be the smart one in the group. At the moment, I wasn’t feeling very wise.

  “We could apologize to her,” I suggested, speaking carefully and making sure my words had no double meanings that the curse could feast on.

  They nodded. That seemed like a good idea all around. We walked, in silence, back to where Tonya had been. She wasn’t there.

  “Now what?” Terry asked.

  That’s when I came up with the answer. “I am no longer cursed,” I said. It was that simple.

  Ken and Terry watched me, as if they expected something awful to happen. But I was pretty sure my idea had worked. I had to test it. I held out my hand. “I’m holding a baseball,” I said.

  Nothing happened. Relief washed over me. “You try it,” I told Terry.

  “There’s a baseball in my hand,” he said.

  Again, I was the first one to realize the mistake. Terry held his hand up, staring in obvious disbelief. He should have said he was holding a baseball. Instead, he’d said there was one in his hand. And there was. He had this huge, swollen lump bulging from his palm. I could almost see the stitches on the ball through the tightly stretched skin. It must have hurt. The way he went screaming down the street, I’m sure it hurt.

  “Hey,” Ken said after Terry had raced far enough away that we couldn’t hear him anymore. “At least we know you cured yourself. I just have to do the same thing. I hate to lose this power, but I guess it’s pretty dangerous.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “This isn’t the kind of thing we want to fool around with. One slip and something terrible could happen.” I was talking pretty freely now that I had lifted the curse from myself. In a moment, Ken would do the same, and at least he and I would be okay. It was great to realize I had survived.

  “Good thinking,” Ken said.

  “Thanks.”

  “You really are a brain.”

  I tried to answer. But my legs and arms and body and head seemed to have disappeared. I couldn’t see or hear or smell or taste. But I could think. That’s about all a brain can do. I guess Ken could make me normal again, if he thought of doing it. But, knowing him, that idea will never rise to the surface of his dim little mind.

  Thanks a lot. Ken, you idiot. I hope you do something really stupid to yourself.

  HIDE

  I’ve got the only brother in the world who’s afraid of cows. I know he’s just three, and kids that age aren’t much more than sticky little bundles of fear, but cows? Give me a break. It wouldn’t be so bad, except our house is right next to a dairy farm. There’s a fence at the edge of our backyard. We’re on one side—me, Mom, Dad, and screaming Barry—and the cows are on the other. The cows are black and white, like the ones you see in the comics sometimes.

  It started the day we moved here. Right after we pulled into the driveway, I went to check out the backyard. As usual, Barry stumbled along behind me. As soon as we got around the house, he screamed so loud I almost broke my back spinning toward him. When Barry screams, I usually get blamed, so I’m pretty quick to shut him up. He was pointing at the fence, his mouth wide open, making no sense at all.

  “Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!”

  That’s pretty much what it sounded like. I figured there was a bee flying around or something. Mom and Dad were out front, so I couldn’t ignore the screams. If they found me standing there while Barry was trying to blow his tonsils out of his throat, I’d probably get a lecture.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He didn’t even look at me. He just kept pointing. Finally, he screamed an actual word. “Inside!”

  “Sure. Anything you say, little brother.” I picked him up. He was so stiff, it was like carrying an armful of baseball bats. I took him in through the back door and put him down on the kitchen floor. “Look, Mom and Dad are stressed out enough with all this moving stuff. Don’t give them any trouble, okay?”

  “Cows,” Barry said. At least he wasn’t shouting. It came out as sort of a whimper.

  “Yup, cows,” I said.

  Twin footsteps echoed through the house as the folks crossed the bare floors and marched into the kitchen.

  “Is something wrong?” Mom asked. “Did you do something to your brother, Robert?”

  “Nah,” I said. “Barry got a little spooked by all the new stuff out there, but it’s under control.”

  “Are you sure?” Dad asked.

  “Positive.”

  That satisfied them. They went back to dealing with the boxes that were stacked all over the place. I looked at Barry. He was still a bit red in the face, and sort of slimy around the nose, but it didn’t seem like he was going to start screaming again or pass out or anything.

  It got worse after that.

  Barry wouldn’t go near the backyard if there were any cows in sight. This meant he stayed inside or played in the front most of the time. The cows went to a barn to eat, and they wandered around a bunch of pastures, but there were usually at least a few out back.

  Whenever Barry caught sight of them, he’d stand glued in place, point straight ahead, and start screaming “Cows!” or shouting “Inside!” Then I’d have to pick him up, carry him into the house, and find some way to distract him until he calmed down.

  I was getting pretty sick of the whole routine.

  After about a month of that nonsense, I decided it was time for little brother to get cured of his fears.

  It was early in the evening. The sun was just dipping down below the horizon. Mom and Dad were at some sort of dinner thing with the local Lions Club or one of those other groups they belong to.

  “Let’s go out,” I said to Barry.

  “Cows?” he asked, look
ing up at me from the floor where he sat surrounded by plastic building blocks. “Cows, Robert?”

  “Come on, there’s nothing to worry about.” I held out my hand. I figured the longer he stayed calm, the closer I could get him to the cows before he started screaming.

  Barry took my hand and we walked out the back door. It was growing pretty dark, which was good. If there were cows, he wouldn’t spot them right away.

  I didn’t see any near the yard, but it looked like there were a dozen or so far off by a tree. “Come on,” I said, “let’s have an adventure.”

  “Where?”

  “You’ll see.” I lifted Barry over the fence. He clung to my arm, which made it tough for me to step over the top wire. There were these electric things hooked up to shock the animals if they tried to get across. I didn’t know how much of a jolt they gave, but I sure didn’t want to find out.

  We got about halfway to the cluster of cows before Barry caught on.

  “Inside!”

  “No way, pal,” I said, tightening my grip on his hand. “It’s time for you to face your fears. Someday, you’ll thank me for this.”

  He dug in. But I was tired of all his tantrums and screaming, so I just dragged him along. It’s nice being bigger and stronger. He screamed all the way. I was afraid someone would come running from the farmhouse, but it was far off beyond the pasture. It was pretty much just Barry and me and the cows.

  “There’s nothing to be scared of,” I said, shouting loud enough so maybe he would hear me over his screams. “They’re cows—that’s all. They don’t even eat meat. They’re just stupid, smelly cows.”

  “Inside!” Barry screamed.

  We were right in the middle of the group of cows now. In the dark, they looked like big, harmless hunks of beef. Most of them were standing. A couple were sprawled on the ground. I’d had it with the screaming. “Look,” I said to Barry. Then I kicked one of the cows. It was like kicking a leather couch. The stupid animal didn’t even glance over at me.