Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror by Jennifer Finney Boylan Page B

pause. Then Jonny said, “Me too.”
    Falcon looked over at him. “What?”
    Jonny smiled ruefully. “That doctor guy just shrugged his shoulders at me. Said I was answering his damn questions all wrong, on purpose.”
    â€œI thought you were a Frankenstein,” said Falcon. “I thought you said you came from—”
    â€œFrom the junkpile, yeah,” said Jonny. “That’s what my ma always said. But just ’cause you got bolts in your neck doesn’t mean you’re a Frankenstein.”
    â€œWell, what are you, if you’re not a Frankenstein?”
    â€œWhat are you, if you’re not a monster?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Falcon.
    â€œYou know what, I don’t care what they call me,” saidJonny. “Their little labels don’t mean anything to me.”
    â€œYeah,” said Falcon. “Still, it’d be nice to know, wouldn’t it?”
    â€œWhat’s the difference?”
    â€œYou don’t want to know what you are?”
    â€œI know what I am, Falcon Quinn,” said Jonny.
    â€œWhat?”
    He played another chord on his guitar. “A piece of junk,” he said.
    Â 
    The door at the bottom of the stairs creaked open. Slow, heavy footsteps began to ascend.
    â€œCompany!” sang out Quimby.
    â€œMaybe it’s Merideath?” said Destynee, coming out into the parlor. “Maybe she’s sorry about being so mean?”
    â€œPerhaps it is as you say,” said Pearl. “But it would be a surprise to me if this Merideath should change her wicked heart.”
    Falcon and Jonny came out of their room and stood there listening to the approaching footsteps.
    â€œOooo,” said Quimby. “It’s a mystery! I love a mystery!”
    Lincoln, rubbing his eyes from sleep, stepped into the parlor. “I hate mysteries,” he said.
    The young people stood there listening to the slow, heavy footsteps coming closer and closer. As they drewnear, the stranger could be heard growling softly and muttering in a threatening manner. The footsteps ascended until at last a young mummy girl arrived at the top of the staircase. She staggered toward them. Still muttering under her breath, she looked the six and one-quarter of them in the eyes, one after the other. She was wrapped in gauze bandages that seemed to be slowly unraveling. Her face peeked out from the gauze, displaying her haughty, angry expression.
    â€œI am Sonahmen Ankh-hoptet,” she announced. “I have made this journey from the catacombs , deep within the cursed nether regions of the castle. I have come from this dark, dead place to the apex of this tower, to issue this summons.” She looked at them again, one by one. “Ankh-hoptet summons the bear of the night to take his rightful place at her side! Ankh-hoptet summons Lincoln Pugh!”
    She raised one of her bony arms, the tattered gauze bandages fluttering off of it, and pointed at Lincoln. “You,” she said. “ You shall be my doom!” Then she threw back her head and screamed.
    When the scream was done, the others stood there looking at her, slightly embarrassed. For a moment they all were silent. It was hard to figure out what to say next.
    â€œWell, this should be interesting,” said Quimby.
    â€œSilence!” said Ankh-hoptet. “The Princess of Decay does not speak to the head within his jar! The Princess ofDecay speaks only to her betrothed! By the disemboweled darkness of the jackal Anubis, lying naked on his throne, I curse thee to an eternity of muteness and woe!”
    At this moment, Pearl buzzed down toward Ankh-hoptet and stung her on her mummified rear end. “ You are not the one who makes this curse!” shouted Pearl. “You are the stinky one! Bang! Bang! Bang! I sting you with the poison! Bang! Bang! I sting you again! Ha! Ha! I have sworn a vow to protect them— these , my friends ! And by my stinger,