Once Upon a Changeling Read online

  I entered the changeling’s room. He was sitting in his crib, surrounded by my sister’s panties. I gave him a look. “I will deal with you later,” I said. To Marcos, “I’m sorry, Marcos. You were right. It was the changeling. I overreacted.”

  “It’s cool,” he said. “I’ve got a sister too. I understand.”

  “I’m really sorry,” I said.

  “Like I said, it’s cool,” he said. “You heard from Puck today?”

  “No,” I said. “She must be really pissed.”

  “Or embarrassed,” said Marcos.

  “Well, it just proves that we should be focusing on getting the real baby back and not on stupid stuff like getting drunk and having fun. We can do all that when we finish what we’ve started, but not until.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” said Marcos. “Maybe that’s what we should focus on.”

  “Exactly. We need to figure out who the father of this baby is. Who is muscle boy?”

  “Um,” said Marcos. “I had a thought about that. I found an email where Cindi had him fix her car. Maybe he was just a friend.”

  “I don’t know, Marcos. He didn’t sound like just a friend,” I said. “But if you’re right, that puts back to square one. Or Mike Schultz.”

  “Fine,” said Marcos. “I will talk to Mike Schultz. If Puck ever speaks to us again, we’ll get her to talk to Mike Schultz. But I don’t think it’s him.”

  We chatted a little longer before hanging up. Then I went back to talk to the changeling. If we didn’t need him to trade for the real baby, I swear to God, I would have strangled the thing.

  I showed Emily the underwear in the baby’s crib. She wanted to know how it had gotten there, and I played dumb. But she was convinced it wasn’t Marcos, and even apologized to me, because she knew I’d called him to chew him out. She even gave me back a little of my bribe money. Sometimes, my little sister could be okay. She really could.

  My parents weren’t going to be home until the next day, so she and I had one more night to ourselves. I was happy to spend it chilling out, doing homework, and watching TV.

  Around 8:00 p.m., the doorbell rang. It was Puck. I was surprised to see her. I’d hoped she’d come around, but I’d figured it would take longer than a day for her to do it. I was even more surprised when the minute she walked in the door, she said, “I came over here to apologize.”

  “Look, there’s no reason to apologize,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault. You—”

  “Can we go someplace to talk?” she asked.

  “Like?”

  “Like your room?”

  We went to my room. Which I thought was kind of strange place to talk, but it was private. We could shut the door, and I guess that was what she was after. However, once in the room, it was kind of awkward. I don’t have any chairs in there. Not for a desk, or an armchair, or anything like that. So we both sat down on the bed.

  “Listen, Russ,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did yesterday.”

  “You weren’t feeling well, and we’d coerced you into getting drunk when you told us—”

  “No, really. I mean it. I was mad at myself, because I wanted to tell you something last night, and I didn’t have the guts. That’s why I drank the liquor in the first place. I thought maybe it would loosen me up enough that I could tell you, but instead I just got sick.”

  Did everybody have something to tell me? First Marcos, then—which reminded me. Marcos never had told me whatever it was he wanted to tell me. And he said that he wasn’t being a good friend to me. What the hell was it?

  “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” I said. “And I want to apologize anyway, because Marcos and I were rude and wrong to pressure you into drinking like that after you told us you couldn’t.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry, but I accept your apology,” said Puck.

  “You don’t have to be sorry, either,” I said.

  “Okay. Neither of us is sorry.” She grinned. Then she took a deep breath. Then she stopped. “Oh God. I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

  This was starting to drive me nuts. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

  “I hope not,” she said.

  “Well, you’re driving me crazy with curiosity,” I said.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll just tell you.” She looked at her hands. “The Equinox is days away,” she said, “and we still don’t know who the baby’s father is.”

  I knew this stuff. What was it she was getting at?

  “So,” she continued, “you and I decided that you would start trying to meet the challenges set for the baby’s parent until we could find him to take over, right?”

  “Yeah. I remember.” So what?

  “I think you need to start tonight,” she said.

  “Okay,” I said. That wasn’t such a big deal. Why didn’t she have the guts to say that earlier? “So, what’s first? I have to get the key, don’t I? There’s a water nymph and a tree?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But this is dangerous, Russ—”

  “We already talked about this,” I said. “I know. It could even be deadly, right? I could die.” When I’d just been doing this for myself and to get my life back, I would have balked at this point. But now it was about a baby’s life. A baby that I’d never met, but I felt something for. Hell, maybe I even loved him. I was willing to take the risk. “I’m okay with that, Puck. I don’t need to rethink.”

  “I know that,” she said. “Something in you has changed, and I know that you wouldn’t back out now.” She took a deep breath. “The water nymph could kill you.”

  “I know this.”

  “Well, there’s something I could do to help.” She picked up my pillow off my bed and began to toy with the pillow case. “I could do something that would kind of temporarily imbue you with faerie magic and make you immune to the nymph’s wiles.”

  Wiles? That was a weird way to put it. “Okay, cool. I’d appreciate that. Why is that such a big deal?”

  “Um, the thing is, that the thing I could do would be to, um … kiss you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Oh. She thought that would be weird, I guess. Puck couldn’t know how badly I wanted to kiss her. Or did she? I studied my fingers. “If that would make you uncomfortable, don’t worry about it.”

  “Would it, um, make you uncomfortable?”

  I shot a look at her, but she was staring at the pillow. “Uh … no?” What was the right answer here? “Look, if you’re thinking that doing something like that would ruin our friendship, because I would think that it meant something more than what it meant or something—”

  “It’s not that,” she said.

  I looked up again. She was staring right at me. I looked at her eyes. Her nose ring. Her delicate chin. Her lips. Oh, God, her lips were so pink and full, and they were parted just a little bit, and she was going to kiss me, and it was going to mean nothing! “I think you’re pretty,” I blurted.

  Then I looked away, immediately. What was that anyway? Pretty? She was a freaking faerie for God’s sake. She was so much more than pretty. I sounded like an idiot.

  “Really?” she said.

  I glanced at her. She was smiling. “I think you’re pretty too. I mean—” She put the pillow in front of her face.

  I grasped it and pulled it away from her slowly, revealing her lovely features. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl ever. I really like you. I wanted to ask you on a date, but you got drunk.”

  She grinned, and it lit up her face. “You want to ask me out? Really? Because I would say yes. Because you’re brave, and exciting, and you do things for noble reasons, and I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  I cut her off by placing my lips against hers. She felt tiny and fragile as I gathered her into my arms, and her lips were warm. Everything felt fuzzy and frazzled, as if the world was staticky and the only real, clear thing on earth was Puck and her body and her lips. I pulled her close, and she wrapped her arms around my waist. We k
issed for a long time.

  Puck had wanted to come with me to the Ancient Tree, but I’d reminded her that Robin had told her that this had to be done by a human. She couldn’t be around or she might ruin it. I had to do this on my own. That didn’t mean I wasn’t scared as hell. I didn’t know what kind of challenge this tree might offer to me. Puck at least knew where the Ancient Tree was located—off John Ringling Boulevard in a little cove. The tree grew out of the water of the bay. It was a huge, gnarled palm tree. I’d never seen a palm tree so huge. And I didn’t know that trees could grow out of sea water. It was obviously a magic tree.

  The weird thing about the location was that it was under a bridge and any car passing above it would be able to see me down there, wrestling with this tree, or doing whatever it was I had to do to pass its test. Whatever the test was.

  I drove to the spot, parked my car, and wandered down the sandy soil to the edge of the water. It was dark now, and the tree was shadowed by the bridge. The only light was the light from the streetlights over the road. The tree looked like a huge, hulking monster crouched beneath the bridge. I wondered how it ever got any light to grow considering the bridge must block out the sun. It really must be a magic tree. It didn’t even need sunlight to grow.

  “Hi,” said a voice.

  I jumped a mile. It was a girl, maybe my age, sitting on the beach wearing a bikini. She had long, flowing blonde hair and a killer body. Seriously, she was gorgeous.

  “Um, hey,” I said. I didn’t know what to do. Puck and I hadn’t covered what to do if someone was around, but I should probably make her go away, right? “Look, I kind of want to be alone—”

  “Alone?” she asked. “No you don’t. I think you’d like some company.” She got up and walked to me, her hips swinging, her breasts jiggling. And she didn’t stop once she got close to me, she just kept coming until her entire body was pressed up against me.

  I tried to push her away. This girl was cuckoo puffs. “Um, actually, I want to be alone. With the Tree,” I said.

  “Don’t go to the Tree,” she said, writhing against me. “Stay with me.”

  Suddenly, it all fit. “You’re the water nymph, aren’t you?”

  The girl pulled away from me, pouting. “What’s wrong with you? You should be mesmerized by me.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “You’re really … amazing. I’m just not really in the mood … anymore.” Thank you, Puck.

  “Whatever,” said the girl. She rolled her head around on her neck and when she turned to face me, something didn’t seem right about her face. Her chin looked longer and it seemed as if her eyebrows had gotten shaggier.

  I took a step away from her, feeling concerned.

  As I watched, the nymph’s face and body transformed. Huge teeth ripped their way out over her lips. Shaggy hair grew over her skin. Her tiny bikini tore. The fabric fell into the sand, forgotten. The nymph raised her fingers, and I watched as long, sharp claws extended from her fingertips. The nymph snarled at me.

  Crap, she was ugly now. And kind of scary too. I gulped.

  She leapt onto me, teeth at my throat. I struggled, but she pinned me with her huge thighs and strong arms. She was twice the size of me. “Nobody can resist my charms,” she said, but her voice was deep and menacing now. Her teeth broke the skin of my throat. I could feel blood seeping out of my neck. And I thought, I really am going to die. I really am. This sucks.

  The nymph-monster’s teeth had penetrated the skin of my neck, and she was holding down my arms and legs so that I couldn’t move. Blood was trickling out of my neck and spilling onto the sand beneath me.

  It was the feeling of pain, of the blood flowing, that made me feel angry. I wasn’t going to die. I wasn’t going to let this stupid water nymph kill me. I might not be able to use my arms or legs, but the nymph couldn’t either if she was holding them down. She was hurting me with her teeth. Two could play at that game.

  I craned my neck around and bit down on the nymph’s ear.

  She howled in pain and let go of me for just a second.

  I used the moment to free my legs, and I began kicking her.

  She backed away, yelling.

  I pushed my advantage and lunged at her, driving my fist into her face.

  The nymph made a strangled cry and came for me again. She slashed her claws across my cheek.

  I cringed, my hand going to the new wound. My fingers came away bloody.

  The nymph’s claws raked me again, this time tearing into the soft flesh of my stomach.

  I went down on my backside in the sand. The nymph was on me. We wrestled in the sand for a few seconds.

  I managed to get my hand onto her face and, with all my might, I pushed my fingers into the nymph’s eye sockets. There was a popping noise and the gush of something warm and liquid on my fingers.

  The nymph howled and backed away, whining. She backed all the way into the water and disappeared under the waves.

  I waited for her to return. When she didn’t, I wiped my hands on my pants and turned to the tree. The fronds were so long they brushed against the sand. I wasn’t dead. Overall, while the incident with the nymph-monster hadn’t been pleasant, it hadn’t been so bad.

  The Ancient Tree said, “Damn nymph’s gone soft.”

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “It’s all this soft living. Easy nowadays. Electricity. iPods. Wheels.” He made a noise that sounded like a snort. The Tree had a face of sorts. A crack for his mouth. A knot for his nose. Two holes for eyes. It was really strange to see him talk.

  “Well,” said the Tree, “what are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for the key?” I said.

  “What? You want an answer from me on that?”

  “No. I am here for the key,” I said more confidently.

  “Well then,” said the Tree. “I have some questions you must answer. Come closer.”

  I took a step forward.

  “Come over here!” snapped the Tree. “I’m Ancient, didn’t they tell you that? I don’t have time for your crap.”

  I went to the Tree, wading into the water until I was within a foot of him. He touched me with his branches. The palms tickled my skin.

  “Mmm,” said the tree. “Very well, then. What’s two times two?”

  I wrinkled my brow. Was this a trick question? “Four?” I asked.

  “Are you asking or telling me, boy?”

  “Telling. It’s four.”

  “Very good. What’s two plus two?”

  Jesus, this was weird. “Four.”

  “Very good,” said the Tree. “How well do you know your friend Marcos?”

  I started to say, “Very well, of course,” but then I stopped. I still hadn’t figured out what it was that Marcos was going to tell me the night before. And he’d said he wasn’t a very good friend to me. Then there was his ability to crack Cindi’s email password. Or the fact that it seemed as though he had no experience with girls, but then he’d come up with an insight out of nowhere. I looked at the Tree, “Not as well as I’d like,” I admitted.

  The Tree smiled, or did something as close to smiling as he was capable of. “That is a very good answer,” he said. “Listen to me, boy. Observe your friend closely. He has the answer you seek.”

  “The answer to what?”

  “I think somebody just won himself a key,” said the tree, unthreading it from his branches and holding it out to me.

  It was Monday, and I was heading to the bathroom with a pass from my English class. I strolled slowly through the halls, trying to get the pieces of my life to fit together some way. I thought and thought. I had the key, which was step one. My parents were back in town, so we had to be careful. I hadn’t spoken to Marcos since the morning when I’d called him about stealing Emily’s underwear, but Puck and I had spent hours on the phone after I’d gotten off from work the day before. We definitely wanted to date, but there didn’t seem to be time for that officially right now. So mostly, we were just makin
g out in the back seat of my car in the afternoons after school before I went to work. After things settled down, we were going to sort everything out.

  Puck wanted me to call Marcos the day before, but I hadn’t wanted to. I’d told her about the message the tree had told me and about the misgivings I had about him. What was it that he wanted to tell me? Puck said I should just ask him. She was probably right, but I didn’t want to have to do that. Marcos was my friend, and I wanted him to just tell me. I wanted him to trust me enough to let me know what it was, no matter how awful it was.

  What if he didn’t tell me, Puck wanted to know. I didn’t know. What answer could he possibly have? What question was I seeking an answer to? Puck thought that was obvious. The answer to who the father of the baby was.

  “You think Marcos knows who the father is?” I had asked her.

  “If he knows, why hasn’t he told us?” she’d said. “But what other question are you seeking answers to? That’s the only one. It’s got to be it.”

  “I don’t believe it,” I’d said. “He wouldn’t have played along the way he has if he’s known who it was the whole time.” He wouldn’t, right? Then I thought about the question the tree had asked me. “God, no wonder he didn’t want me to beat up Dave. No wonder he’s been trying to keep me from talking to Mike Schultz. He knows! But who is he protecting? Why won’t he just tell us?”

  No matter what we thought, we couldn’t figure that out. Marcos seemed to want to help me so sincerely. What could possibly be motivating him to keep the answer for us? We didn’t know. We couldn’t know. Marcos had betrayed us, and neither of us could quite believe it. I was beginning to wonder if there was really anybody on earth that I actually could trust. First, Cindi had treated me like a doormat, then my friends had turned their backs on me, then my father had stopped caring about me because of something that I hadn’t even done, and now Marcos, who I thought was genuinely my friend, wasn’t showing any regard for me either. I didn’t want to—couldn’t bear to face him.