The Frights of Fiji, Sunayna Prasad [best thriller books to read .txt] 📗

will talk to us about your dad.”

“Why can’t you call them?”

Alyssa told her why.

“Let me check to see if he’s still sleeping first.” Hailey referred to Uncle Bruce.

“All right. Do you want to come?”

“If my dad’s okay.”

Alyssa put the phone back to her ear. “Hailey’s going to check on him.”

“Cool,” said Madison.

“So can you stay on the line, please?” asked Alyssa.

“Yes,” said Madison.

After about a minute, Hailey returned. “He went back to sleep.”

“You want to go?” asked Alyssa.

“Okay,” said Hailey.

“We’ll come,” Alyssa told Madison.

“Cool. My house number is twenty-two. See you soon, Alyssa. Bye.”

Alyssa hung up. She and Hailey got ready and stepped outside. The temperature had to be in the mid- to high fifties. The air warmed up enough that Alyssa had chosen to wear a half-sleeved button-down shirt and jeans but no coat for now. More snow continued to melt, but it still stood a few inches high. Good thing Alyssa and Hailey wore boots.

The fact that Hailey’s grandparents wouldn’t be able to come until later took over Alyssa’s mind. What if Duchamp came before then? He could make himself invisible to anyone who could capture him, so even if someone called the police, it wouldn’t do anything to help.

Approaching Draco Drive, Alyssa and Hailey looked for house number twenty-two. They passed a few homes until they found the Jennings’s place. Alyssa rang the doorbell. Mrs. Jennings answered and looked around since her glasses had fogged up.

“Mrs. Jennings, we’re in front of you.” Alyssa waved.

Mrs. Jennings wiped her glasses on her apron and looked at Alyssa and Hailey. She smiled. “Hi, girls. Come in.”

Alyssa and Hailey stepped inside.

“Mrs. Jennings, what are you cooking?” asked Hailey.

“Bacon and pancakes,” she said. “Mr. Jennings also made scrambled eggs and sausages.” She led them into the kitchen.

The smell of bacon drifted into Alyssa’s nostrils. Her mouth watered. Back at home, Uncle Bruce had only made plain oatmeal with protein powder, egg whites and spinach, hard-boiled eggs, and fruit.

Mr. Jennings worked on his laptop. His wild dark-brown curls faced Alyssa, Hailey, and Mrs. Jennings.

“Brian, look who’s here,” said Mrs. Jennings.

Mr. Jennings turned to Alyssa and Hailey, grinning. “Hello.” He looked at Alyssa. “Alyssa, you’ve really grown.”

Alyssa giggled. “Thanks, Mr. Jennings, although I’m actually not that tall for my age.”

“Well, you’re certainly much taller than you were two years ago,” Mr. Jennings said.

“Yeah, I guess,” said Alyssa. “Where’s Madison?”

“Mom, I can’t find my iPod!” Madison jogged down the stairs.

“Well, you better keep trying because this is the second iPod I bought you,” said Mrs. Jennings. “If you lose this one, I’m not buying you another one.”

“But do that later,” said Mr. Jennings. “Hailey and Alyssa are here.”

“Oh, hi.” Madison headed into the kitchen.

“Tara, can you get Kaitlyn, please?” Mr. Jennings asked Mrs. Jennings.

Mrs. Jennings nodded and called Kaitlyn, Madison’s nine-year-old sister. Kaitlyn rushed down the stairs and skipped into the kitchen to let her strawberry-blonde waves bounce against her elbows. Both Kaitlyn and Madison had ADD, although Kaitlyn had more hyperactivity. Madison used to have severe ADD too. Until the summer before fourth grade, when she and Alyssa had first become friends, she would get in trouble a lot, especially at school.

As the girls sat down, Mr. and Mrs. Jennings brought out plates, cups, napkins, and silverware. Then they brought the food, followed by milk, cranberry juice, and orange juice. Everybody helped him or herself with the food. Mrs. Jennings, who sat next to Kaitlyn, poured syrup onto her pancakes.

“Hey, I wanted to do it,” said Kaitlyn.

“Too bad,” said Mrs. Jennings.

“But Madison got to do it,” Kaitlyn said.

“Well, until you learn to control how much syrup you put on, I’m pouring it for you,” said Mrs. Jennings.

Kaitlyn groaned.

“Kaitlyn Faye Jennings, if you complain, I’m taking your pancakes,” Mrs. Jennings said.

Kaitlyn sighed, piercing the pancakes with her fork.

“Alyssa, your uncle actually l-lost his memory?” whimpered Madison.

“Yes.” Alyssa nodded.

The Jennings family gasped.

“How?” asked Mr. Jennings.

“Uh . . . the truth’s going to sound weird,” said Alyssa.

“Tell us anyway.” Mrs. Jennings loosened her sleek honey-blonde bun to let her hair fall past her shoulders. “The same thing happened to my dad when I was twenty-five.”

“What happened?” Hailey asked.

Mrs. Jennings sighed. “He had mercury poisoning.”

“Is that what your uncle got?” Kaitlyn asked.

“No . . . magic wiped his memories.” Alyssa blushed.

Kaitlyn, Madison, and their parents pressed their lips, looking at Alyssa as if she’d spoken pig Latin.

“There’s no such thing as magic,” said Kaitlyn.

“Actually, there is,” said Alyssa. “He lost his memory overnight.”

“Yeah, he was completely fine yesterday,” Hailey said. “Nothing hit him or anything.”

“Remember the funny colors of the sleet last night?” asked Alyssa.

“Yeah,” said Madison.

“Sleet is only supposed to be white,” Mrs. Jennings said. “So that means . . .”

“Magic is real,” said Alyssa.

The Jennings family gasped.

“I don’t believe it,” said Mr. Jennings.

“So, Alyssa, here’s what you should do with your uncle,” said Mrs. Jennings. “Do you have any other adult relatives?”

“We have my grandparents,” Hailey said. “They’re coming at one.”

“Okay, Hailey, when they come, let them look for a doctor to check on him. Take him to the hospital and then find an assisted living home for him,” Mrs. Jennings said. “But keep in mind that the homes won’t just take him today. The process will take some time.”

“How long?” Hailey asked.

“It depends on what rooms are available, when someone can interview your grandparents, and more importantly—if the home is available,” said Mrs. Jennings. “It took my family ten days to get my dad into one after he got discharged from the hospital.”

“Thanks.” Hailey smiled.

“Thank you,” said Alyssa.

“You’re welcome,” said Mrs. Jennings.

After breakfast, Alyssa and Hailey thanked the Jennings family and left. Alyssa hoped that Duchamp would not be there when she got home.

 

 

 

7

 

Alyssa and Hailey approached their house. But they jumped back. An engine roared from the backyard. It resembled—a helicopter? What would that do in a neighborhood? The engine even grew louder as Alyssa and Hailey drew nearer to their home.

They reached the house, and the same noise shook Alyssa’s eardrums. She and Hailey turned to the backyard where the sound came from. The two walked toward it, but Alyssa clenched her teeth. Neither this area nor the property behind it had anything different.

The engine died out, but Alyssa and Hailey still looked around to see where the helicopter was. Alyssa saw nothing but sleet as well as everything she always saw.

“What’s going on?” asked Hailey.

“I don’t know.”

“Why can’t we see anything?”

“I think something’s happening.”

“Oh no.”

“Let’s go inside.” Alyssa opened the backdoor and followed Hailey inside.

They walked down the hallway to the area by the front door—only for a strange voice with a French accent to say, “Bonjour, mesdemoiselles.”

Turning to the kitchen, Alyssa and Hailey shrieked at the strange man. He stood only a few inches taller than Alyssa, despite his beach-ball-sized belly. The top of his bald head shone, and wild black hair surrounded it. A bushy mustache covered the area between his nose and upper lip. Yellow teeth filled his smile.

“Hello?” called Uncle Bruce. “Who’s there?”

Everyone turned to him as he ran down the stairs. But the stranger held out his hand and made a stick appear. He pointed it at Uncle Bruce. “Somnum harena!”

Orange sand swirled out of the stick and found its way into Uncle Bruce’s eyes. He cried out in pain and fell to the floor.

“Dad!” exclaimed Hailey.

“Silence!” The man pointed his stick at Hailey. “He won’t wake up for another twelve hours.”

Alyssa and Hailey gritted their teeth and whined. That stick he’d used to knock Uncle Bruce out had to be his wand. So this man had to be none other than . . .

“B-Beau Duchamp?” Alyssa asked.

“Yes,” he said, “although I’d prefer Master Beau, if you don’t mind.”

“Never mind, what did you do to my dad?” yelled Hailey.

“I made him fall asleep,” said Master Beau.

“You what?” Hailey stomped.

“Get out of here!” yelled Alyssa.

“No!” bellowed Master Beau. “I did all that stuff to harm you because I need you to have zero protections. That way, I can take you to the Fiji Islands as soon as possible.”

“Well, I’m going to go get my dad’s cell phone and call the police,” said Hailey.

“No, you’re not!” Master Beau pointed his wand at her.

“Stop it, Master Beau!” screamed Alyssa.

“Somnum harena!” he cast a spell on Hailey and knocked her out too.

Alyssa stood, speeding up her inhalations through her tensed chest. What else could Master Beau do?

“You’ve got to get out of here!” screeched Alyssa. “You’re really—”

“Shut up!” Master Beau pointed his wand at her. “I’m going to do something to you that’ll make you stop!”

“What?”

Master Beau grinned. Alyssa backed away, sucking in breaths through her compressed teeth. She thought about what he might do, but Master Beau waved his wand and whipped it. He shot out a red ray of light. Alyssa screamed and turned around. But the beam hit her. What would it do now?

The answer wasn’t to make her fall asleep, weaken her, or wipe her memory. But it did affect her brain. She felt distrust to Master Beau fading, and she now wanted to obey all his commands. Temptations to leave Hailey and Uncle Bruce took over her mind. Thoughts about hurting anyone trying to save her dominated as well.

“Well, Alyssa, how do you feel?” asked Master Beau.

Alyssa smiled and nodded. “Great.”

“Look at yourself.” Master Beau created a translucent mirror with his wand. Alyssa’s pupils had turned red.

“Cool,” said Alyssa.

“Now let’s get you all packed up,” said Master Beau.

He kicked Uncle Bruce out of the way and led Alyssa up the stairs. She then took him into her room and looked around for her suitcase. Where could it be? What color was it? Looking at the top shelf in her closet, Alyssa saw something large and red. Was that her suitcase?

“Hey, Master Beau, can you bring that bag down for me?” Alyssa asked. “I’m pretty sure it’s my suitcase.”

“Sure.”

Master Beau pointed to the top of the closet and projected a pulling force onto the object. As he revealed the object, Alyssa saw wheels, pockets, and handles on it. Yup, it was her suitcase. Now she grabbed her old backpack from school.

Master Beau lowered the suitcase onto the floor and continued to hold out his wand. He pointed it toward the dressers.

Alyssa gazed at the electric-green spark at the tip of Master Beau’s wand. Master Beau spun around, keeping that glimmer in the same spot.

He stopped moving. “All right, I’ve put all your clothes into your suitcase.”

“You did?”

“Open it up.”

Alyssa lifted the luggage cover and saw everything inside: shirts, pants, shorts—you name it.