Touched - By Cyn Balog Page 0,41

Arrow. Architect of Time. Small Army …” She kept flipping pages.

“Any Touches that will undo previous Touches?” I asked, hopeful.

She shook her head. “No such luck.”

“Well, can you, like, say the curse backward and—”

“Uh-uh. Absolutely no reversals.”

“But is that because it can’t be done, or because your grandmother doesn’t know how to do it?” I asked, getting desperate.

“It can’t be done. Touches are permanent,” she said, making my heart, which was suddenly twittering with all these new, thrilling sensations, turn to lead. She looked at her watch. “We’d better get out of here. Grandma will be here any minute and she does not want me talking to you about the Book of Touch.”

“Why not? Isn’t it good business for her?”

“Sure it is. Like I said, it pays her rent. But I don’t think local law enforcement would be too happy about it, so it’s very hush-hush.” She walked to the opening of the booth and stopped short. I didn’t have to look out; I immediately saw what was coming. Her grandmother plodding up the ramp, her thick sausage cankles visible under that same shapeless dress of dead brown flowers. I grabbed Taryn by the wrist and the vision dissolved in my head. We needed to hide. But when I turned, there was nothing, just mounds of red velvet on the walls. Sure, there was the little table, but it was too little to hide both of us, and did I really want to spend any length of time with Taryn’s grandmother’s cankles in my face?

Taryn led the way, pulling back one of the curtains. “In here,” she said. I climbed in. There was a cinder-block wall about three feet behind the curtains, but it was a good hiding spot.

“How’d you know this was here?” I whispered.

“I used to spend a lot of time back here when I was a kid,” she answered. “Grandma thought it would be good for me.”

“Good for you? You mean, she wanted you to see people get this … Touch?”

She nodded, then shrugged.

I laughed bitterly. Her grandmother was totally whacked. Letting a little girl see people curse themselves was the perfect playdate, right up there with Chuck E. Cheese’s. Taryn let the curtains fall behind us. From where we stood, I could look up and see neon lights from the arcade next door. The bells and chatter of the electronic games were loud enough to make me realize they were probably right on the other side of the wall. It only went up seven or eight feet. I could probably hoist myself up and escape that way. As I was looking for a way out, Taryn cursed. Really loudly.

“Shhh,” I said. “What?”

“Forget it. Grandma’s practically deaf,” she explained, and not in a whisper. She held out the key to the book.

I stared at it. “You forgot to …”

“I was in a hurry. It’s no big deal. She probably won’t perform any Touches tonight, anyway. I’ll just put it back tomorrow.” Then she put her hand on my knee, steadying it. I hadn’t realized it, but I was fidgeting, something I did all the time. “You are a jumpy one, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said, not really thinking. “Sue always says I’m so jumpy I make kangaroos jealous.”

“Sue?”

Oh, hell. Usually I was good about keeping my future under wraps, especially with complete strangers. But like I said, she put me at ease. Why else would I be bringing up my no-longer-wife-of-thirty-years? Sue, who was probably now going to marry some other guy and have a lot better future than she would have had with me. “Forget it,” I mumbled.

I watched as her grandmother lumbered into the tent, breathing heavily. She was nothing like Nan, who was barely sixty. This lady looked ancient. “How old is your grandmother?”

Taryn studied her from the slit in the curtain. “I have no idea. But I’m her twenty-ninth grandchild. Her last grandchild.” She exhaled slowly. “Lucky for me.”

“What does that mean?”

She motioned to the wall with her chin. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.”

We walked through to the rear of the arcade, looking for a door. If we could get out onto Ocean Avenue, we could get around the booth and to the bicycle rack without any possibility of Old Scary Lady seeing us. “So, who is Sue?” Taryn asked.

And I’d thought maybe she’d forget. I cleared my throat. “No one. Really.” Which was the truth. Now she was no one to me.

“Old girlfriend? Current girlfriend?”

I just mumbled, “My wife. In a different