Touched - By Cyn Balog Page 0,80

and come downstairs.

Nan was watching Wheel of Fortune with her broken arm supported on an old velour pillow. “You don’t think you’re going out?” she said, but her voice was a lot gentler than my mom’s.

“I have to,” I whispered. “It’s important.”

She studied my face. “All right. I’ll cover for you. But only until ten. Even if you aren’t going to school tomorrow, it’s still a school night.”

“Right,” I said, taking care to make as little noise as possible when I opened and shut the screen door. I walked my bicycle down the driveway because I was afraid my mother would hear the sound of it kicking up gravel, but the second I was on the sidewalk I raced away. It was late; the sun was setting, and in the distance it looked like more storm clouds were bulging over the mainland. The air was humid but carried that icy chill that usually comes on early September evenings. I shuddered as I sailed up the ramp and onto the boardwalk.

Taryn was waiting for me outside the arcade, our prearranged spot. She looked even worse than before. Her face was the color of old snow, which was a huge contrast to the bloodred rims around each of her eyes. She tried to wave to me, but her hand only made it to hip level before she let it fall. She didn’t smile.

“You ready?” I asked, which was a stupid question. I realized too late I probably shouldn’t be reminding her of the task ahead. She was worried enough as it was.

She just nodded and looked down at the ground.

“You want something to eat before you go on?” I asked, remembering how she ate when she was nervous.

I started to fish through my pockets for money, but she wrinkled her nose and said, “I’m all set.” It was a good thing, since all I had in my pocket was a crumpled dollar and a Trident wrapper. I hoped she was more prepared than I was.

The You Wills had me checking the clock in the arcade, so I did. “Ten minutes. Guess I’ll get back there. I’ll see you after, okay?”

She nodded looking dazed, small, and lonely.

“Hey,” I said to her, taking her by the hand and just soaking in that feeling of peace she gave me. “It’ll be okay.”

She looked into my eyes. “I know. I believe you,” she said, and she tilted her head up and gave me a small kiss, nothing like the one we’d shared earlier that day. Her lips were cold and so weak, I could barely feel their pressure on mine. “See you.”

And she turned and walked to the tent, disappearing beneath its folds.

All I could think of was how stupid it was as I made my way over the arcade wall. That because of this family curse, she’d die tonight if she didn’t Touch someone else. There was no question in my mind—she had it worse than I did. I might not have been able to live a normal day in my life because of my curse, but I didn’t hold another person’s fate in my hands.

I lowered myself into that dark void and smelled the incense and sea as I opened the curtain a crack. It looked like Taryn was alone. She glanced in my direction and sat down in the chair, then let out a small sigh. I thought about saying something to her, something to make her relax, when a rough voice came from the corner of the tent: “You are late. Open the book.”

“Yes, Grandma,” she said. I instinctively shifted backward.

As Taryn did what she was told, her grandmother shuffled into sight. Though her back was to me, I could reach out and touch her. I could smell something like sour milk and mothballs as she moved near me, something that combined with the incense to make my eyes water. I rubbed them and swallowed. I realized this space was like a tomb, something that captured scents and never let them go. I pulled my T-shirt up in front of my mouth and crouched lower, wishing I’d brought a can of Coke with me. Wishing someone would pull back the entrance flap to the tent so that more of that cleansing sea air would come in.

Everything around me felt damp, sticky. It was darker than usual in there and I could hear thunder rumbling over the buzz and ringing of the arcade games. Suddenly the sound of a thousand hoofbeats started to