Herculeah Jones Tarot Says Beware by Betsy Byars

was cold with fear and dread. She felt as if she were in Madame Rosa’s parlor with the frightened mother and Madame Rosa, actually hearing the conversation.
    â€œ ‘Give me something of his. Bring me something.’
    â€œâ€˜I could bring you the knife he threatens me with. ” ’
    The terrible two-part conversation continued, with the puppeteer taking both parts.
    â€œâ€˜I’ll go home right now and get the knife. You’ll wait for me, Madame Rosa?’
    â€œâ€˜I wait....’
    â€œ ‘I am back. Here, here is the knife my boy threatens me with. Here take it. Tell me.’
    â€œ ‘Yes. Yes. Your boy, he kill with this knife. Your boy will kill!’ ”
    In his own voice the puppeteer added, “I guess the old broad actually flipped out, fainted. My mom told me about it when she got home. She said, ‘Frankie, she thinks you’re going to kill.’ I said, ‘Mom, I’m no killer. You know that. I’ll handle it.’ I meant to handle it by scaring Madame Rosa.”
    Herculeah took another step toward the fence. In the darkness, the puppeteer did, too.
    â€œI made a witch puppet. You saw her.”
    â€œYes. And just as I thought, it was modeled after Madame Rosa.”
    â€œOf course, even down to the cloak.” He gave a flourish that made the cloak flutter around him. On Herculeah’s shoulder, Tarot gave an answering flutter.
    â€œOh, I enjoyed that play. Madame Rosa was doing her little palm-reading thing across the way, and she looked up and there she was on the puppet stage. Her face. Her voice. Her cloak. My knife.
    â€œShe froze with her mouth open—was too scared to close it, I guess—until the witch got stabbed.”
    â€œThat’s when she fled?”
    â€œI thought she got the message. Then the old fool went to your mom, a private detective, and I didn’t like that. I knew I had to really scare the old woman—like I’m scaring you.”
    â€œI’m n-not afraid.”
    â€œA-aren’t you?” the puppeteer asked. This time he spoke in Herculeah’s voice.
    â€œGo on with your story,” she managed to say.
    â€œI went to her house. I opened the door with the knife—such useful things.” Beneath his hood he smiled. “Madame Rosa was in the kitchen. I was just going to put the knife somewhere so she could find it. There was a big book on the table. I decided to stick the knife in that. It fell open to a page on dolls. Voodoo dolls. I liked that. It fit. Dolls. Puppets. I raised my knife. Right then that stupid bird woke up and yelled, ‘Beware!’
    â€œMadame Rosa came in and she went crazy. I just wanted to scare her—that’s all I was going to do—but she threw herself at me. She was going to tear my eyes out or something. She was a wild woman. And I was holding the knife like this—”
    Again Herculeah saw the glint of metal.
    â€œAnd she fell against it. I never wanted to kill her. I don’t want to kill anybody. I don’t want to kill you.”
    Herculeah took another step sideways.
    â€œIt just happened then, like it’s going to happen now. She knew too much. You do, too.”
    Without any more warning, he came toward her. His long billowing cape made him seem huge. Herculeah threw Tarot at him. There was a flurry of wings and cape as the puppeteer fought off the bird.
    He managed to throw the bird to the ground. He came for Herculeah again. He made one thrust with the knife. He missed. He drew back for another.
    She ducked and as she swirled away, she shoved him with all her strength. He stepped backward, stumbled on the hem of the cape, and fell to the ground.
    This was the moment Herculeah had hoped for. She rushed past him. She had a moment of elation. She was free. She was going to get away. She was safe.
    And then she felt his long, cold fingers circle her ankle.

25
    WEAPON OF CHOICE
    Herculeah cried out in