I was still taking in the remarkable artistry of the piece when I noticed that Harper and Clay were not talking. A glance confirmed their silence, and I saw both were staring at me.
“Uh, I wasn’t supposed to take this out of the cabinet, was I?” I turned to set it back in its original resting spot. “What, is this thing worth a small fortune?”
“No, no.” This time it was Harper. I turned back, now wondering what the hell was going on.
“Somebody want to explain what’s going on? I feel like I’m missing something here.”
They exchanged a look, and Clay seemed to make a decision.
“When you spilled that potion, did it have any effect on you?”
OK. That was from left field. More than a little embarrassing, too. It seemed I was never going to escape that incident. It would have been nice not to have to discuss it in front of Harper, though.
“No. Not that I noticed. I mean, it was a little difficult to tell.”
“And in the Lost and Found Room?”
“The Lost and Found? Oh the fearstone, that. Nope.”
Seemed like I wasn’t the only one noticing a few odd things. I hadn’t even told them about the events with Crazy Lady Lucas from the day before. Wasn’t sure I wanted to, but I didn’t have any choice now.
“Maybe we should ask Huguette and Sol to join us?”
Harper headed back up the stairs.
“OK. Now you’re starting to freak me out, Clay. Did I do something wrong?”
Clay studied me — that’s the word, studied — and shook his head. “Nothing wrong, kid. Just the opposite, in fact.”
Now my mother and Sol were clumping down the stairs, followed by Harper. I could hear my brother’s voice from the living room, then the sound of laughter from the remaining guests. I suspect he had determined that I was in a shitload of trouble. Which remained to be seen, but was always a possibility.
“OK. Somebody tell me what the heck is going on.”
My mother gave me that look. The one that says don’t you swear in front of others, even if it is a grade two swearword. Then she saw the pot in my hands and paused.
“Is that — is that the pot from Santa Fe?” She had turned to Harper, who nodded in confirmation.
“But I thought — .”
“I know. Clay?”
Now they were all staring at me, and I was distinctly uncomfortable. I put the pot down on the bar and took a swig of my Ginger Ale.
“Anybody?”
Sol stepped forward.
“I believe — correct me if I’m wrong Clay — I believe that pot is a protective talisman that Clay and Harper were given by a Pueblo Indian medicine man when they visited New Mexico. What, ten years ago?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
The Professor was standing in front of the bar now, studying the pot.
“So, I wasn’t supposed to pick it up?”
“Well-.”
I sighed, and they could all tell I was exasperated. It was my mother that answered, oddly enough, and for once her answer was clear and to the point.
“You shouldn’t be able to pick it up.”
I had moved around to the front of the bar, and was perched on one of the leather stools. The others had settled into the theatre seats, making me feel like I was facing a jury.
I still wasn’t clear on what my crime had been, or for that matter what the potential penalty might be. But apparently it had something to do with the pot in my hands.
“So tell me that again?”
“We were given that pot in ‘98 by a Pueblo Indian who was a medicine man. It was a gift for letting his daughter stay with us during her senior year at Ryerson.”
I nodded, half listening and half checking out the faces of the others in the room, in particular my mother. I kept expecting her to signal her displeasure with me in some way, for not paying attention, or picking up the damned thing, or simply being here. But she was listening intently to Harper, and when she glanced in my direction, it was with a solemn look on her face.
“He lived in a tiny village fifty miles outside Santa Fe. Paranoid about big cities, crime, that kind of thing. When he gave us the pot, he claimed that it was a protective talisman, that it would prevent unwanted visitors from entering our home. I don’t know if it works. Suppose we never will, unless someone tries to rob us one night. But he also cast a ward on it, to ensure no one other than Clay or I could remove it from the house.”
“OK. And this ward is supposed to prevent anyone from taking it out of the house? Well, I haven’t-.”
“Not just take it out of the house. No one is supposed to be able to touch it.”
I must have had a skeptical look on my face, because this time my mother scowled.
“Maybe the ward has worn off?”
Professor Irving piped up. “I don’t think so. These types of spells aren’t supposed to have a shelf life. Excuse the pun.” Not sure I could. It wasn’t very punny. “Certainly the last time I tried to pick up the ward it seemed to be working just fine.”
“What does it do?”
Sol glanced at the others and apparently concluded he was the one best suited to show how it worked. Sighing, he wrestled his way out of his leather nest in the second row and headed my way.
“Why don’t you put it on the bar. Make sure it’s not near the edge.”
“Sol, you don’t need to-.”
Sol patted Harper on the shoulder, and continued toward the bar. “I think it is well worth it, if we can prove that the ward is still working.”
I moved aside to let the Professor stand at the bar. Up close, I could see that drops of sweat were forming on his forehead. He gave me a quick grin, but I could see in his eyes it was much like the smile a patient gives his dentist just before the root canal procedure begins. Then he reached out his right hand, the fingers trembling ever so slightly. He paused for a moment, just a few inches from the lid of the pot, then closed the gap.
The Ontario Science Centre was one of my favorite places to visit as a kid. And one of the exhibits I looked forward to most was a Van de Graaf generator in the Science Arcade. A big aluminum sphere, the generator always made me think of a metal mushroom. Operating at 500,000 volts, the device was terrific for introducing kids to electricity and its effects. I just loved watching the girls get up there. When their hair stood on end, they looked like giant dandelion puffballs. And I remember how, if you got up close, you could feel the charged air around you, and the hair on your arms would stand up.
Sol’s finger was about three inches from the pot when a spark jumped through the air. This was no carpet spark. I swear a mini-lightning bolt formed in that room before our very eyes. There was a crack like an axe splitting a log, and the room lit up. I think I may have yelped like a startled puppy. I know I hopped back a few steps.
The ladies both cried out in surprise, and Clay fell back in his chair with a thump.
What was three or four seconds felt like thirty. Finally, my voice seemed to work.
“Are you OK?”
Sol was staring at his finger, inspecting it for burn marks. The pot seemed to be rocking ever so slightly on its base.
“Yeah. I’m OK. Jeez, that’s the third time I’ve done that. I should know better by now.”
“Everyone OK down there?” That was Jamar’s voice, I thought, calling down from the living room.
Harper called out in response. “All good. Just crossed the wrong wire.”
More laughter upstairs. Ted was no doubt mocking the old folks in the basement.
“That seemed a lot more powerful than last time.” Clay’s eyes were filled with concern for his friend.