Oracle of Doom Page 7

  Theo and Lu looked at each other, both hoping for a better answer. A solution. A solid plan.

  Neither had one.

  “I don’t know if the future is set or not,” I said. “But I know how we can find out.”

  “How?” Theo exclaimed quickly, as if grasping at a lifeline.

  “Come with me,” I said.

  I reached up to the collar of my shirt, grabbed the leather cord that was around my neck, and pulled out the Paradox key…the key that had been handed down to me by my biological father, who had also been an agent of the Library.

  “Everett doesn’t know either,” Lu said.

  “And I’m not going back into that story,” Theo added.

  “Yes, you are,” I replied. “We’re all going back. It may be the only way to save you. You have anything for Lu to put on?”

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Lu asked, indignant.

  She had on a short plaid skirt, black tights, and a blue denim shirt.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Unless you want people staring at you like you dropped in from Mars.”

  “I have some old pants that don’t fit anymore,” Theo said, digging through drawers.

  He found a pair of khaki pants and a white shirt that looked kind of generic. Lu took them reluctantly and went into the bathroom that was off of his bedroom to put them on.

  “And wipe off the red lipstick!” I called in to her.

  “I look like a little boy,” she said with disgust as she walked out wearing the costume.

  “Yeah, you do,” I said. “Perfect.”

  Lu didn’t look happy at all. Too bad.

  I stepped up to Theo’s bedroom door and felt the key grow warm in my hand. As strange as this is to say, I didn’t think twice about what was happening. I had gotten used to it. I held the key out toward the doorknob, starting the chain of events that would open the door into the Library.

  A small dark shadow appeared on the wooden surface of the door, beneath the doorknob. The wood itself transformed, as if turning liquid. In seconds, an ornate round brass plate appeared. The Paradox key fit perfectly into the keyhole. I twisted it and heard the familiar click of the bolt retracting. I took out the key, turned the doorknob, and pulled the door open to reveal…

  …the Library. The rows of dark shelves filled with thousands of books were becoming a familiar and welcome sight. How weird is that? I made sure the door was closed tight behind us and strode quickly for the circulation desk while draping the key cord around my neck.

  “I was afraid you’d given up!” Everett called to us from somewhere deep within the old-fashioned library.

  We walked quickly past the aisles of polished wooden shelves that were packed tightly with leather-bound volumes until we came upon the spirit-librarian, who sat reading the black book that held the story of the Oracle Baz.

  “I see you’ve made progress, lass,” he said to Lu, peering over his wire-rimmed spectacles at us. “You found Jenny’s fortune.”

  The spirits who observed the disruptions and documented the stories contained in the books were always up to date. Everett already knew exactly what had been going on.

  “Oh, now Jenny’s story is in the book?” Lu said. “About time.”

  “I believe that’s because you’re now on the case,” Everett replied. “What do you suppose the fortune means?”

  “No idea,” Lu said. “At least it didn’t say she’s going to die.” As soon as those words were out of her mouth, she winced. “Sorry,” she said to Theo.

  Theo scowled at her.

  “What do you think, Everett?” I asked. “Is the future already written? Or can it be changed?”

  Everett closed the book, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.

  “I understand Theo’s point,” he said. “How is it possible to control an event in the future if you have no way of knowing what will lead up to it? But I also believe we are in charge of our own destinies. Free will and all that.”

  “I told you he wouldn’t know,” Lu said, scoffing.

  It was Everett’s turn to scowl at her. Lu ignored him.

  “Well, I don’t think our lives are planned out,” I said. “And I know how to prove it.”

  I dug under the circulation counter for the 1937 sweaters that Theo and I had dumped there after we left the story. I grabbed the hat I had worn and jammed it on Lu’s head.

  “They don’t have many black people running around that park in 1937, and they definitely don’t have any Asians.”

  “So everybody looks like you?” Lu asked snidely.

  “Not really. My hair is way too long.”

  My hair wasn’t long at all. It only came over my ears, but in 1937 all the boys had tight buzz cuts.

  “We have to blend in,” I said.

  “So how do we prove the future can be changed?” Theo asked while putting on his own cap.

  I slipped on my sweater and headed for the door that would lead into the story. The others followed close behind.

  “Because we know what’s going to happen,” I said. “Baz is going to be killed when the Magic Castle ride burns down.”

  “So?” Lu said.

  “So we’re going to save his life. If we can stop him from being killed, it’ll mean we can do the same thing for Theo.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, boy-o,” Everett said. “I told you: ya can’t be changing things that already happened.”

  “Maybe not in real life, but we can make changes in the story,” I said. “I know we can. We stopped Baz from being attacked by some jealous boyfriend with a sword. If we hadn’t been there, a fight would have broken out for sure. We changed the story.”

  “Is that true, Everett?” Theo asked. “Is that how it works?”

  “Aye,” he said. “When you’re in a story, you’re in a different reality. You could save Baz in the story, but like I told you, that won’t change actual history, only the version you’re visiting. Nothing you do in the story will affect Theo’s actual future.”

  “But it’ll prove it can be changed,” Lu said. “That’s brilliant.”

  “I thought so,” I said smugly. “Everett, put the bookmark in a place just before the fire.”

  Everett flipped through the pages, reading quickly.

  “I can’t be certain,” he said. “The books don’t recount every second of every day. But near as I can tell, this will put you in the park on the night of the fire. When exactly it will happen, I can’t say.”

  We reached the door where the faint sounds of calliope music could be heard coming from the other side. I opened it, and the rush of sound from the story hit us like a wave rolling out of the past.

  “I smell popcorn,” Lu said in awe. “This is so incredibly awesome.”

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Let’s go change the future.”

  Nighttime at an amusement park is a whole different kind of experience than during the day.

  Every building was decorated with white lights lining the roofs, making the midway sparkle like a fairyland. The rides were covered with thousands of multicolored twinkle lights that helped create the illusion of magical fun. Strangely, it didn’t look much different from the park in the present day. The place was crowded too. Everybody seemed to be having a blast on this late-spring evening. Music mixed with the mechanical sounds of rides, the smell of fried food, and the happy screams of excitement. Some things never change, I guess.

  Then again, we were trying to make sure some things did change.

  Lu pulled her cap down low, trying to become invisible. “I don’t know if this is cool or terrifying,” she said.

  “Cool,” I replied. “The terror comes later.”

  “There it is,” Theo announced, pointing.

  The Magic Castle ride was the most
impressive building on the midway. The soaring turrets of this make-believe castle towered over everything but the Tornado roller coaster.

  “What kind of ride is that?” Lu asked.

  “I think it’s one of those spook-house things where you walk along in the dark and things pop out at you,” I replied.

  “Baz’s apartment must be in one of those turrets,” Theo said. “If the place caught fire, there’d be no way out.”

  We moved through the crowd to get a closer look at the doomed ride. A drawbridge stretched from the midway, over a wide moat of water, and into the arched entrance. There was no line. People kind of walked in whenever they wanted. That was one huge difference from modern amusement parks where you had to wait in long lines for everything. I guess there were a lot fewer people back then.

  I walked to the edge of the moat and scanned back and forth. About a hundred yards to our right, on the far side of the park, I could see the masts of the pirate ship known as Blackbeard’s Galleon. They rose up above the buildings along the midway, looming like dark, ominous silhouettes. It was the infamous ride where Charlie Simmons met his fate on opening day.

  “I suppose that ship has made its last voyage,” Theo said.

  “So much trouble going on,” I added. “Makes you wonder if this park is cursed.”

  “Don’t say that!” Theo scolded. “We’ve got enough problems.”

  “Speaking of trouble…,” Lu said, pointing.

  A group of young boys formed a circle on the grass near the Magic Castle entrance. One kid in the middle was getting shoved around.

  “Is that our friend Derby?” Theo asked.

  The little guy was being ganged up on by the others. My blood started to boil. Bullies do that to me. I ran across the drawbridge and right up to the gang.

  “Hey!” I shouted.

  The bully boys froze like I was a cop, but not before one of them gave Derby a final shove that sent him tumbling down onto the grass.

  “You guys are real tough, ganging up like that,” I said. “How about if I jump in on Derby’s side?”

  There was a lot of mumbling and foot shuffling as they all backed off in different directions.

  “Didn’t think so,” I added.

  One kid got in a last shot at Derby. “Sissy,” he said under his breath.

  “C’mon, tough guy,” I snapped at him. “Let’s go.”

  I took a threatening step toward him, and the kid took off.

  Theo helped Derby to his feet. “Are you okay?” Theo asked.

  Derby yanked his arm away, embarrassed and angry.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “They think I’m a sissy because I won’t go through the Magic Castle alone,” he grumbled. “They all did it, but…”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence.

  “But you’ve got a thing about the dark,” I said.

  Derby shrugged.

  “One on one, I’d knock their blocks off!” he said defiantly.

  “I know you would,” I said. “Do me a favor? If you’re gonna suck it up and go through, wait till tomorrow, okay?”

  “Why?” Derby asked.

  I glanced at Lu and Theo. They looked away, not knowing what to say.

  “Because you don’t want to let those little thugs know they got to you,” I said.

  “Sure, pal,” Derby said. “Whatever you say.”

  He started walking away, but as an afterthought he said, “Hey, you gonna be a clown?”

  “Clown?” Lu said, surprised. “You hate clowns.”

  “Still trying to figure that one out,” I said while pushing the others to leave. “See you around, chief. Remember what I said. Don’t go in there tonight.”

  We walked back over the moat and away from what was about to be the scene of the crime.

  “So how do we save Baz?” Theo asked. “We have no idea when the fire will happen.”

  I looked up at the windows in the turrets. No lights were on. Nobody was home.

  “Let’s go see if he’s in his tent,” I said.

  We left the castle and walked quickly to the end of the midway. I had to constantly push Lu to keep her moving. She was just as amazed to see the park in 1937 as Theo and I had been, and she kept stopping to take it all in.

  “So cool,” she kept saying, over and over.

  When we finally arrived at Baz’s orange-and-white tent, it was buzzing with activity.

  “There’s a show going on,” I said. “I want to see this.”

  We hurried straight inside to find the place packed. Baz really was a big attraction. It was standing room only. With every bench filled, we had to stand in the back along with a bunch of other people who had gotten there too late to find a seat.

  Weird flute music was playing as Baz sat on his throne, staring into his crystal ball. There was one spotlight on him, making the scene all sorts of dramatic. The only other light was the glow that came from the crystal ball.

  “Mallory Loehr!” Baz called out, his voice booming through the big tent.

  A woman standing close to us gasped and shot a look at the guy next to her, not sure of what to do. Her eyes were wide. The guy laughed and nudged her forward.

  “Here!” she yelled. “I’m back here!”

  “You have an uncle who is quite ill,” Baz exclaimed. “I am afraid his time is short.”

  The woman sighed and said, “I know. He’s elderly. Been sick a long time now. His passing will be a blessing.”

  “It will be more than a blessing,” Baz announced. “He is quite wealthy, and you are his sole heir. Congratulations, Mallory. You are about to become a very rich woman.”

  Mallory took a step back as if the announcement had physically hit her. I don’t know if the news made her happy or sad. The audience reacted strangely. Some applauded. Some muttered with discomfort. It was a classic good news–bad news deal.

  “Uh, are you sure?” Mallory called out.

  Baz shot a dark, penetrating look her way. “About his passing or your good fortune?” he asked.

  “Uh, both, I guess,” Mallory said. She looked a little embarrassed to be asking about money, considering where it would come from.

  “Why are you here if you doubt my ability?” Baz said with a sneer.

  The woman was totally flustered. “I’m not—I mean—I don’t…I mean, thank you. I think.”

  She didn’t seem to know whether to laugh or cry. Her husband gave her a hug. I’ll bet he mostly cared about the getting-rich part.

  As I watched her, my eye caught someone I recognized in the audience. It was Mrs. Simmons, the wife of the pirate ship guy who Baz had predicted would die. She didn’t look any better than the last time we’d seen her. She stood leaning against one of the thick tent poles, hugging her arms around her waist. While everyone else in the audience was whispering to one another with excitement about the prediction Baz had just made, Mrs. Simmons had her eyes locked on the oracle. Why was she there? It must have been torture for her to watch Baz make more predictions, especially about somebody who was going to die soon.

  Baz threw up his hands to quiet the crowd.

  The place instantly went silent. If anybody was breathing, I couldn’t hear it.

  When Baz raised his arms, he winced in pain and grabbed at his side.

  A murmur of curiosity rippled through the crowd. Was this part of the act?

  “What’s his problem?” Lu whispered.

  Baz steeled himself and raised his arms again, slower this time. He cringed but didn’t give in and kept his arms held high.

  The crowd went quiet again.

  The flute music was all that could be heard. It was totally eerie.

  Baz stood there for a long couple of seconds. Anticipation was building. Something was abo
ut to happen.

  The crystal ball glowed brighter. Baz looked down at it with an expression that I can best describe as stunned. Whatever he was seeing in that crystal ball shocked him. That was strange, because this guy didn’t get rattled. Even when he was facing an angry guy who wanted to skewer him with a sword, he didn’t break a sweat. He stared into the light for a few seconds, then shouted, “The show is over!”

  The effort of yelling triggered the pain in his side again. He clutched himself but didn’t budge from the spot.

  “Go!” he commanded. “Make your way to the exits.”

  Nobody was sure of what to do. They looked at one another questioningly, wondering if this might be part of the show.

  It wasn’t.

  “Get out!” Baz screamed.

  People got the hint. Or the command. There was a lot of grumbling as they slowly stood up and shuffled out.

  We moved to the side, letting them pass. Nobody was happy. They all felt like they had been cheated out of a full show.

  Mrs. Simmons didn’t move. She stayed in place, gazing at Baz with a look that seemed like worry.

  Baz continued to stare into the crystal ball, as if hypnotized by whatever he was seeing. The music ended and the houselights came on. Still, Baz didn’t move.

  “What’s up with him?” Lu asked.

  The three of us skirted around the crowd, moving against the flow, and made our way to the stage.

  “What is he seeing?” Lu whispered.

  “Whatever it is, he doesn’t like it,” Theo replied.

  “I can guess what it is,” I said. “Maybe Baz is a better oracle than we gave him credit for.”

  “Meaning…?” Lu asked.

  We were only a few yards away from Baz when a man came hurrying toward him across the stage. It was Hensley, the park manager.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he yelled angrily. “Those are paying customers. You can’t cut a show short!”

  Hensley charged forward as if to tackle Baz, but Baz threw up his hand, making the other man stop short. It was like Baz had thrown out an invisible force field.

  “Why am I seeing you again?” Baz asked through gritted teeth. For whatever reason, he was in a lot of pain. “Did I not make myself clear?”