The Tricksters - Johannah Moloney (best thriller books to read txt) 📗

I tensed, and peered at the door from under the covers. Slowly, I stood. I twisted the handle, and peeked into the hallway. Baby Bleu was looking up at me, and mewed when I didn’t open it fully right away. I giggled with relief and let her in.
Her white frame wobbled over to the bed, and looked at me with her blue eyes and waited for me to lift her up. She immediately pounced on Leslie’s twitching foot.
“Ow! What the-?”
Leslie twisted around and moaned ‘aww-w’ when she saw Baby Bleu fiercely nibbling on her big toe. I joined in unison, and wished I still had my camera.
The sound of rushing water led us downstairs, where mom was making breakfast. She was reading the back of the pancake mix, squinting at a measuring cup. “It’s okay, mom. I’m making breakfast.”
She sighed again and handed me the box. “How are they expecting people as old as me to read that?” Leslie quickly turned on her charms. “You don’t look more than twenty-five.”
“Oh, you’re underestimating, dear.” But she smiled at the comment.
When she was out of the room, I looked at Leslie. “What?” she said, her tone playfully innocent. I rolled my eyes and pulled out the eggs.
We spent the rest of the day stalker-free, maxing out every credit card we owned. When the sun was setting, we were at the booth. We crammed in, Leslie with the scarf, and me with the locket. It was a blissfully normal day.
When Leslie left with one last hug, I went in my room. I pulled the film out, and taped the new piece to my collection of photos. It was like one big timeline now, all the way from the fifth grade. There was hardly a wall underneath it now.
I studied it. Something was out of place. The curtain wasn’t completely closed. Something… something was there. As I stared at it, and recognition dawned on me; a boy with gold, curly hair.

This time I didn’t stop myself from screaming.


Leslie and I hadn’t seen him since five days ago. I didn’t tell mom and dad, but dad had assumed and given me pepper spray. Leslie bust out laughing when I almost sprayed Josh, our other best friend, in the face when he had grabbed my elbow. I laughed too.
“Your turning into a crazy cat lady.” He said.
“Am not,” I said, trying to breathe. “There’s only BB.”
“That’s what they always say before it becomes unhealthy. Tell me, have you been staring longingly at street cats lately?”
“No.” I said, trying, unsuccessfully, to sound serious.
“Liar.”
“Am not!”
“Then why are you still laughing?”
“Because I almost sprayed you with pepper spay!” I waved the bottle for emphasis. He ducked, and it became a game of who-can-spray-Josh-first. He got away before I got the chance.
In the car, Leslie and I sat in awkward silence. Leslie said, “So… you like Josh?”
“What?” I looked at her, perplexed.
“Well, I’m just saying what I see.”
“No, no. That would be just weird.”
“You looked like you were having a good time.”
“Not like that. We’re just friends.” I said. She sounded annoyed.
She hummed, and pulled up to my driveway. “See you tomorrow.” She said.
“See you.”
I walked up my front steps, thinking: Where did that come from?
We began to believe that life is normal again. The ‘feeling’ slowly faded away, like a bad sunburn. Leslie and I watched the next episode at her house, and then played a prank on her little brother Andrew. It was a simple monster in the toilet, but to be ever scarred in his memory. We ended the night with two fingers, with Andrew tagged along as a promise on not to tell mom.
“Ok Andrew, be still. You can’t move or it won’t work.” She repeated. He nodded, his eyes as big as saucers. We stuck our index and middle finger on both hands under him, and began the chant:
“Light as a feather,
Stiff as a board.
Light as a feather,
Stiff as a board.”
Slowly, we lifted him up. His mouth was part way open; as if he was watching a ghost eat his PB&J. Leslie and I locked eyes, a secret conversation passing between us. He came up to above our heads, and in agreement, we screamed. Andrew shrieked, fear filing his voice, as we fell to the ground with him still on our fingers. We hooted with laughter as he scrambled to his feet.
“I’m gonna to get mommy.” He said, tears filling his eyes.
“Wait! Wait! We told you not to move. If you hadn’t moved, the ghosts wouldn’t have attacked us,” Leslie said, surprising me with how guiltless she sounded. “And its Lore’s turn. You wouldn’t want to leave Lore out. And plus, the ghosts would be angry if we all don’t do it.” Leslie was the first to go, to test to see if the ghosts would eat her for Andrew’s sake.
He looked at me, unconvinced. “Well, okay. But it’s not my fault if she gets chomped on.”
I laid on the floor, and they took their positions at my sides. I felt their fingers under me, and the chant began:
“Light as a feather,
Stiff as a board.
Light as I feather,
Stiff as a board.”
The chant became a rhythm, filling my ears with music. It was strangely peaceful; it felt like I was floating. I didn’t feel them pushing them against me. Actually, I felt nothing. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling. I didn’t feel the unbalance in height. I didn’t feel the coolness of the room. I didn’t feel the stickiness of Andrew’s fingers. It was like I was in-between time, from reality and sleep. It felt… natural.
The sound of shrieks and screams barely reached my ears. When I opened my eyes, the ceiling was strangely vivid. And I figured out why; it was an inch from my nose.
I screamed and fell straight to the ground, the trance shattered like glass. I landed on my butt, and scampered away to the wall. Andrew was weeping in the corner farthest from me.
“The ghosties! The ghosties! They’re gonna eat me!” He hymned, and it became a ringing in the room. The door burst open, and Mrs. Nikons wrapped him in his arms. He clutched her shirt tightly. “What happened here?” she said, directed to Leslie, who was gripping a plush pillow on her bed.
“It-it was just a game.” She stammered.
“What game?” Mrs. Nikons said, a hiss entering her voice.
“It was two fingers. We were just playing around. We didn’t mean for anything to happen. I’m sorry, Mrs. Nikons. It’s my fault.” I said. When she looked at me her expression changed, first from pity serenity to shock.
“Did you get contacts, dear?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I have 20/20 vision.” She hummed unsurely, then said, “Well, I don’t blame you dear.” Then led Andrew from the room. After a moment of silence, Leslie scoffed, “She likes you more than me.”
I ignored Leslie and went into the bathroom. When I stared into the mirror, I didn’t believe what I saw. No green was in my eyes; instead, an intense shade of glimmering bullion curved around my irises, swirling softly like a pool of neon. It ignited my face, highlighting my cheekbones and incenting my skin, and leaving my hair radiant like the dark woods, with the moon lustrous in the background. I was beautiful.
As I stared, enchanted by my reflection, something flickered behind me. It wasn’t literally behind me, but was replicated out the bathroom window. I studied it, and I grasped what it was, or who it was; he had followed us to Leslie’s house. And as I saw his face, his strong features, I also saw the same eyes staring directly at me.


I never told Leslie. She would freak if she had known. It was better that she didn’t know, and went on about the prom undisturbed. Of course, I was psyched for it too. But to Leslie’s standards, you have to get the dress five months ahead of time.
“You don’t even know who you’re going with,” I argued.
“Oh sure. I have guys lined up the hallway for me. All they need to know is what color the tie should be,” She smiled devishly. “But the problem is you. I mean, we can double date. But then that would be like a tag on, and the guy I sign you up with might just be going for me instead, and that would be like cheating. For me, of course.”
“So you don’t think I could get my own?” I challenged.
“I don’t doubt you girl, but the whole ‘introductory’ is not your thing. You’re like the perfect goody-goody girl, if you know what I mean.”
“What do you mean by goody-goody?”
“You’re- you know- don’t make this uncomfortable. It’s supposed to be a fun time on dress shopping. Geez, lighten up.” She threw a barrette at me. It fell to the floor.
“Okay, so what do you think about this one?” she held up a cherry red mini dress.
“Unless you’re going for street walker, then no.” I giggled. We searched around the tiny store, pulling and trying on anything worth it. Leslie lugged out a dark indigo sweetheart neckline, and handed it to me. She pushed me in the dressing room when she saw my pained face.
When I walked out, Leslie’s eyes lit up. She showed me to a mirror. The dress fell easily around my waist, and tightened above my hips, giving me delicate curves. It was two layered, and flowed like water at my knees. It looked like air when I walked, and had a fragile flower at my side where it looked like the fabric was being held together by that alone.
“Am I awesome, or am I awesome?” Leslie said, grinning at herself. I nodded, transfixed. She suddenly bounced off, and returned with golden high heeled sandals that twisted like vines around my ankles. “There. Now your perfect.”
Leslie picked out a deep beige keyhole short dress and black heels, and went to the counter. I hesitated at the mirror, than resentfully changed. I joined her.
The next day after school, I shot down Leslie’s offer to drive me home. My neighborhood was less than a mile away, and the weather was a cool fog; my favorite. The small dirt path that was made when we were kids that led past almost to every house in the grade, and cut straight through the woods. We used to go on it all the time, until Leslie insisted that it was too dirty. Now I had it all to myself.
I was half way in when the sensation suddenly went on hyper mode. It was so sudden that I had to stop. I hunted the landscape around me, but nothing was there. I cursed at the feeling. But my hand still went the tiny bottle in my bag.
I began walking again. A bird cawed overhead. A squirrel rustled in the leaves. Something was still wrong. The sensation was screaming at me now, telling me to run to safety. It was so overpowering that I winced. I couldn’t focus on anything, everything was blurry. Then he was right in front of me.
I saw the pure color of his eyes, and then my vision slowly zoomed out, like something off of Wonderland. He was still wearing that hat, and a heavy black raincoat that fit the picture. He looked like he should have been playing as a blonde superman. Hmm, the nerdy type. I quickly dismissed that thought.
“What do you want?” I asked, hating my waviness.
He unnerved me by chuckling. “Don’t you know?”
When I hesitated, he sighed.