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“Valuable, you say?” Dr. Facilier’s lips twisted into a predatory grin.
“You said it had to be something of great importance and value to the dreamer.” Jamal looked down in shame. “Well, this trumpet counts. It’s my brother’s most prized possession. And he’s very important to me.”
The shadow man’s eyes shifted to Jamal’s neck—where the skull necklace still glowed under his shirt. He seemed to be thinking it over.
Jamal’s heart raced. Was the shadow man going to refuse the deal? But then a sly look passed over the man’s angular face.
“Fine, you have yourself a deal,” Dr. Facilier said with a tip of his top hat. “The trumpet, in exchange for this.” He held up the tarot card with the promised future.
Jamal nodded and handed over the trumpet. When he did it, the skull necklace flared, but it was too late. Dr. Facilier grinned in the moonlight and raised his hand, clutching the trumpet. Then he produced more purple dust from his pocket and blew it into the air.
Wisps of purple smoke swirled, enveloping Jamal. The dolls materialized from the smoke, dancing around the shadow man. Were those his friends from the other side? They boogied in the moonlight to an exotic drumbeat and chanted strange incantations in a language Jamal had never heard before. Their button eyes locked on to him, sending a chill straight down his spine.
As the shadow man cast his spell, images whirled around them. Jamal winning at basketball. Reading his stories in front of an audience. Answering questions in science class. Riding the school bus home surrounded by adoring friends. The scenes were mesmerizing. He couldn’t wait for it all to happen. Then the shadow man cackled.
“Enjoy your dream made real,” he said, vanishing into a swirl of purple smoke with his troop of creepy dolls. Jamal was left alone, standing on the front stoop. His heart hammered. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. It was morning.
He reached for the skull necklace. It was no longer glowing with reddish light now that the shadow man was gone. It felt cool. That was a relief. Maybe all his problems were solved after all. He hurried back into the house—and the hallway was clear.
No tarot cards. No shadow monsters. No sign of the shadow man’s curse.
A smile crept over Jamal’s face. He returned to his bedroom and slid into bed, elated. The images from his new future danced through his head to the beat of the shadow man and his friends. But they were immediately chased by guilt.
His eyes darted to the case under his brother’s bed. He felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t believe that he had stolen his brother’s trumpet. Malik was going to be so upset when he woke up and discovered that it was gone.
Worse yet, Jamal had made a deal with the shadow man. He felt acid burn his throat and swallowed hard. “I had to do it,” he whispered to himself. “I didn’t have a choice.”
The guilt lingered, eating at him and making him toss and turn.
What had he just done?
But he couldn’t help feeling excited about the future the shadow man had promised him. The images from Dr. Facilier’s spell swirled through his head. Didn’t his brother love him? Wouldn’t Malik want him to be happy for once? His brother would have to understand, Jamal thought.
Though he tried to sleep, it was hard when he was this excited. It was almost like Christmas Eve. He couldn’t wait to wake up and see how different things were.
Everything in his life was about to change.
Everything.
Jamal was back in his grandmother’s house. He could tell by the smell of it. Sweet and musty. The smell of decay. The shadows contorted as he wandered through the dark hallways. The ancient wooden floorboards creaked under his feet. He reached the end of the hall and pushed a door open.
Creak.
It swung heavily on its hinges. The room inside was lit only by pale moonlight shining through the cracks between the thick curtains covering the windows. A shadowy figure sat in a rocking chair. Her face was shrouded by black veils.
She hunched forward in her chair. The veils blew back from her head, revealing her wrinkled, skeletal face. Her once warm, brown skin looked almost gray. She stared at him with milky eyes.
“Beware of the shadows,” she moaned. “Don’t mess with the shadow man—or you’ll regret it.”
Jamal backed away, terrified. “No, Grandma! I’m sorry!”
“Don’t you know he’s trouble, boy?” she moaned, rocking back and forth in her chair. “How dare you give my trumpet to that horrible man? You can’t trust him!”
Jamal awoke with a start. He was in his bedroom. It was only a bad dream. Sunlight, bright and crisp, streamed through his window. No musty smell. No thick curtains. No moaning voice. He inhaled and exhaled, fee
ling his heart rate slow.
He glanced at the clock and jumped up. It was time to get ready for school. Jamal bounded to the closet and cracked open the door, and in a flash he remembered the tarot cards.
