âI have to go,â I said, as another piece of the pattern fell into place. I hung up slowly.
Gloria and Lynette had suddenly developed ferocious pimples; my skin was clearer than it had ever been. Gloria and Lynette were sick a lot and not sleeping well; I was full of energy, in great shape, sleeping like a baby. Gloria and Lynette were being hassled by teachers and parents; everyone was treating me like Miss Perfection.
Gloria and Lynette were going out with Bia; I was his enemy.
It hit me like a punch in the stomach, and I sank down onto my bed. The logic was irrefutable. The spirit was Biaâs enemy, doing whatever she could to punish him. And hurting his friends would be just one more effective way for her to get at him. It would add to Biaâs troubles to see those he cared about suffering. It would also eventually drive everyone away from him, once they figured out how unhealthy it was to be his friendâand how rewarding to be his enemy.
Telling me I was boring, up in his room, wasnât enough. But three days later, he had said I was his enemy, in so many words, right outside the spirit house. And ever since I had been blessed with every imaginable giftâlooks, health, grades, popularity. The pattern was so clear that it no longer seemed at all crazy to believe in the spirit; it seemed crazy not to. So wasnât it my duty to warn Gloria and Lynette to steer clear of Bia, before even worse things started happening to them?
I shook my head and groaned. Theyâd never believe me. Neither would I, in their position. If I wanted to protect Gloria and Lynette, the way to do it wasnât to tell them a spirit was out to get them. If it seemed that they really were in danger, I would have to find some other way to separate them from Bia.
From out on the street, I heard the sound of Lynetteâs car starting up and driving away.
What was Bia feeling? Was he at all guilty? Obviously he didnât feel guilty enough to leave Gloria and Lynette alone. A decent person would have dropped them as soon as he saw how the spirit was punishing them because of him. Instead, he was just letting it happen.
But why should he worry about Gloria and Lynette if he hadnât worried about Thamrongsak? I thought of Thamrongsakâs letter and felt another wave of compassion for him. I got up and looked at it again. âI work always very hard at my studies and my job after school. But many times I am crying, because still no chance for a better life, as my family are so poor. Now, because of your help, I can have hope.â¦â
The words blurred; I couldnât go on reading it. I wiped my eyes and picked up the photo. It seemed to me now that there was an expression of sad bafflement on Thamrongsakâs face. What had happened to him was so unfair!
I dropped the photo on Momâs desk and went back and stretched out miserably on my bed. I couldnât help feeling partly responsible for his misfortune. I hadnât done anything to hurt him, but I had hoped something would happen to prevent him from comingâmainly because I was afraid of what people like Mark and Gloria and Lynette would think of him.
Was there any way to help him? I didnât know what Bia had done to him. But if Thamrongsak were still alive and well, proving Bia was an impostor might give him another chance. So why hadnât I told Gloria that Bia was a fake? Partly because I had realized that the photo and letter from Thamrongsak still wouldnât be enough evidence to convince her. And what would be enough? The letter Bia was trying to snatch was what would do itâif he hadnât found it already.
But if he hadnât, he would now be even more determined to get his hands on it, after what I said to him in the hallway. Why hadnât I kept my mouth shut? I actually accused him of looking for a letter from the real Thamrongsak! Heâd make sure I never found it.
And heâd try to stop me
Gloria and Lynette had suddenly developed ferocious pimples; my skin was clearer than it had ever been. Gloria and Lynette were sick a lot and not sleeping well; I was full of energy, in great shape, sleeping like a baby. Gloria and Lynette were being hassled by teachers and parents; everyone was treating me like Miss Perfection.
Gloria and Lynette were going out with Bia; I was his enemy.
It hit me like a punch in the stomach, and I sank down onto my bed. The logic was irrefutable. The spirit was Biaâs enemy, doing whatever she could to punish him. And hurting his friends would be just one more effective way for her to get at him. It would add to Biaâs troubles to see those he cared about suffering. It would also eventually drive everyone away from him, once they figured out how unhealthy it was to be his friendâand how rewarding to be his enemy.
Telling me I was boring, up in his room, wasnât enough. But three days later, he had said I was his enemy, in so many words, right outside the spirit house. And ever since I had been blessed with every imaginable giftâlooks, health, grades, popularity. The pattern was so clear that it no longer seemed at all crazy to believe in the spirit; it seemed crazy not to. So wasnât it my duty to warn Gloria and Lynette to steer clear of Bia, before even worse things started happening to them?
I shook my head and groaned. Theyâd never believe me. Neither would I, in their position. If I wanted to protect Gloria and Lynette, the way to do it wasnât to tell them a spirit was out to get them. If it seemed that they really were in danger, I would have to find some other way to separate them from Bia.
From out on the street, I heard the sound of Lynetteâs car starting up and driving away.
What was Bia feeling? Was he at all guilty? Obviously he didnât feel guilty enough to leave Gloria and Lynette alone. A decent person would have dropped them as soon as he saw how the spirit was punishing them because of him. Instead, he was just letting it happen.
But why should he worry about Gloria and Lynette if he hadnât worried about Thamrongsak? I thought of Thamrongsakâs letter and felt another wave of compassion for him. I got up and looked at it again. âI work always very hard at my studies and my job after school. But many times I am crying, because still no chance for a better life, as my family are so poor. Now, because of your help, I can have hope.â¦â
The words blurred; I couldnât go on reading it. I wiped my eyes and picked up the photo. It seemed to me now that there was an expression of sad bafflement on Thamrongsakâs face. What had happened to him was so unfair!
I dropped the photo on Momâs desk and went back and stretched out miserably on my bed. I couldnât help feeling partly responsible for his misfortune. I hadnât done anything to hurt him, but I had hoped something would happen to prevent him from comingâmainly because I was afraid of what people like Mark and Gloria and Lynette would think of him.
Was there any way to help him? I didnât know what Bia had done to him. But if Thamrongsak were still alive and well, proving Bia was an impostor might give him another chance. So why hadnât I told Gloria that Bia was a fake? Partly because I had realized that the photo and letter from Thamrongsak still wouldnât be enough evidence to convince her. And what would be enough? The letter Bia was trying to snatch was what would do itâif he hadnât found it already.
But if he hadnât, he would now be even more determined to get his hands on it, after what I said to him in the hallway. Why hadnât I kept my mouth shut? I actually accused him of looking for a letter from the real Thamrongsak! Heâd make sure I never found it.
And heâd try to stop me
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