“When the teachers were asked about ideas for mini-courses this year, I thought about what I had to offer you guys,” he said. “I thought about my trip to Bali, Indonesia, where I learned traditional mask-making. Beautiful masks are used mostly in dance performances there. Well, we won’t be making traditional Balinese masks today, but all masks, across cultures, have things in common. Anyone?”

  A boy named Logan raised his hand. “They hide you. They’re disguises,” he said.

  “Yes,” Mr. Aaronson said. “Disguise is one universal purpose of masks. For this reason, they can be scary, since you never really know for sure who’s behind them. And some cultures use them in sacred rituals. But there are other purposes, like entertainment. Like the ones we see at Mardi Gras.” He gestured to the board where there were several colorful photos of masked revelers at Mardi Gras.

  “Masks play an important role in our understanding of what it means to be human,” he continued. “I’ve always been interested in masks because they allow the wearer to have an experience that really utilizes his or her imagination. By putting on a mask, a person can imagine what it is like to be transformed—changed—into something else.”

  “Like on Halloween,” Logan added.

  “Yup,” Mr. Aaronson said. “Exactly, Logan. Now, look at this one.” He scrolled to another picture. It was of a wooden mask with round eyes. “This is a war mask from the Grebo people of the Ivory Coast and Liberia,” he explained.

  Another picture. “And here’s one from the ancient Aztecs. Believe it or not, the ancient Aztecs prized skulls as war trophies, and skull masks were not uncommon.”

  Jasmine could feel her classmates shiver at this fact.

  Another click. “This is a Noh mask from Japan,” he continued, pointing at the photo of a delicate white mask. “These masks are worn during very long performances, so they are very light. There are different types of masks, depending on the character being portrayed.”

  Mr. Aaronson turned back to look at the class. “Okay. Now you’re going to be the mask-makers. Everyone, choose a partner. You’re going to make quick-drying molds of one another’s faces. The material we’re using is like papier-mâché, but it’s a special kind that hardens in just a few minutes. I got it from a friend who makes monster costumes for movies. You’re going to apply a thin layer of this goop to one another’s faces. Just pretend you’re giving a facial.” He laughed at his own joke. “Sit with your partner as the mask dries so they don’t freak out. It’s kind of a weird feeling to have the goop on your face, and your face will feel tight as the goop dries. When the mask dries, pull it gently off your partner’s face. Then you can decorate them with everything you see here.” He made a grand, sweeping gesture at the craft supplies.

  Jasmine and Lisa looked at each other. There was no question they’d be partners. Lily and Nina sat across the table from them, and they partnered up too. Oh, it was so nice to have everything be back to normal.

  “You go first,” Jasmine said to Lisa. “I’ll do your mask, then you do mine.”

  “Okay.” Lisa nodded.

  Jasmine was relieved Lisa had agreed to have her mask done first. The whole thing seemed a little freaky, to be honest. There I go again, Jasmine thought. But she walked calmly over to the sink area, where Mr. Aaronson was passing out small bowls of goop for them to smear on one another’s faces. It looked like vanilla pudding. She brought it back to the table and placed it in front of Lisa as if she were serving her friend a bowl of delicious dessert. They both laughed.

  Jasmine sat down and faced Lisa, and Jasmine began to spread the goop gently on Lisa’s face in a thin layer so it covered everything but her eyes, nostrils, and mouth. The goop was cool and slimy. Lisa looked kind of uncomfortable. When Jasmine had covered Lisa’s whole face, she said, “Okay, I’m sitting with you right here till it dries. Don’t move your face!” Jasmine wiped her hands off on a paper towel. Lisa struggled to stay still, but the mask dried quickly, just like Mr. Aaronson had promised.

  “Ready?” Jasmine asked Lisa, her fingers around the edge of Lisa’s mask, ready to pull it off. Lisa nodded, and Jasmine gently pulled it away from her skin. And there was Lisa’s face—in her hands. So weird! She placed the mask on the table in front of them, and Lisa touched it gently. “Cool,” Lisa said. “That’s really cool.”

  “Okay, I guess it’s my turn,” Jasmine said. Lisa got down to business with the goop.

  The goop was cool and slippery-feeling on Jasmine’s face, but she felt the warmth of Lisa’s fingers in contrast. Lisa spread the goop carefully and evenly over Jasmine’s whole face. And before she knew it, Lisa was done. “There,” Lisa said, sitting back and smiling proudly. “Now just let it dry.”

  As Jasmine’s mask dried, her face felt weirdly tight. She started to feel a little panicky, but before she knew it, Lisa was carefully removing the mask, pulling it slowly from her face.

  Then the two sat there, silently examining the shells of their faces. It was weird to be looking at her face somewhere other than in a mirror or in a photo.

  “Let me guess,” Jasmine broke the silence. “You’re going to make your mask scary, and I’m not, right?” They both laughed. There. All the tension was gone. Jasmine was so relieved they weren’t in a fight anymore. She was sure that from now on Lisa would be more aware of how Jasmine just got a little, well, scared sometimes.

  Jasmine and Lisa walked over to the craft table together to gather materials to decorate their masks. Jasmine was in a pink mood today so she selected pink everything: pink glitter, pink sequins, pink feathers, pink yarn, pink beads, pink ribbons. She placed everything beside her blank mask, along with a small bottle of glue.

  “Are you sure you have enough pink?” Lisa asked, looking over at Jasmine’s choices, and they both cracked up.

  Lisa picked Mardi Gras colors. As they worked quietly, carefully focused on gluing, Jasmine peeked at Lisa’s mask in progress. Lisa was somehow managing to make a mask that looked terrifying, but also like great fun. While the expression on the mask was angry, Lisa added so many sequins that the mask shone like a hundred stars. Leave that to Lisa! Jasmine thought.

  After a while Mr. Aaronson said, “Okay, everyone, when you’re ready, please set your masks on the table to dry, and then start walking around and looking at what your classmates have made. There’s some really beautiful work here. I hope you wear your masks, whether it’s to the parade or to parties, or hang them up in your bedrooms.” Ha! Jasmine knew she wouldn’t be doing that, but she was still pleased with her work.

  As their masks dried, the class watched a short movie on the history of Mardi Gras. Then the mini-course was over. Jasmine headed down the hall toward the next mini-course, mask in hand, her hands still a little sticky with pink paint and pink glitter. It was time to “Learn a Little Japanese.”

  When Jasmine got home from school, pink mask in hand, she found a note from her dad on the kitchen table:

  Jazzy,

  Hope you had a good day at school. I bet you made a pretty mask and learned lots of Japanese. I had to leave for the airport earlier than I thought. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say good-bye.

  Honey, I hope you are not still feeling scared by the mask. Don’t worry—it’s harmless! And remember, it’s supposed to be there to protect you and Nana, so let it do its job! Also, Lisa is welcome to come over whenever you girls want, but NO MORE SNEAKING AROUND IN THE BASEMENT AT NIGHT!

  Nana is at her card game and will be home before dinner. I’ll be home in just a few weeks. I’ll blow you kisses from Siberia!

  Love you,

  Daddy

  Jasmine left her pink mask on the kitchen table and headed upstairs. Her walk was half walk, half stomp: she was annoyed that her dad had left without saying good-bye. Until, that is, she was halfway up the stairs. She looked up and saw the mask staring down at her. Her anger at her father morphed into anger at the mask. I can’t take it anymore, she thought. I hate this thing.

  Jasmine couldn’t help herself. She went straight to the mask—suddenly she felt superbrave—and removed it from its hook on the wall. Then she headed straight for the basement, and her dad’s workbench in the corner. It was an old wood table. Tools hung on a rack above. Dad is pretty good at fixing and making things when he isn’t traipsing around the world, Jasmine thought bitterly.

  All of a sudden Jasmine felt strongly that the mask had no right to be in her house. If something freaked her out, shouldn’t her dad have respected that and at least kept it in his office, where she wouldn’t have to look at it all the time? Wasn’t it bad enough that he was gone so much? Light-headed with a calm, uncharacteristically daring feeling, Jasmine placed the mask on the cement floor of the basement. Then she grabbed her dad’s hammer and crouched over the mask. And before Jasmine even knew what she was doing, she was banging the mask with the hammer—hard. Over and over, again and again. It reminded her of when her dad had brought her home a coconut and they had used a hammer to break it open. The coconut—and mask—were harder to break than she’d expected. Both times Jasmine had to beat down with all her might.

  When the mask finally split into three pieces with a loud crack, Jasmine realized she was sweating and her hair had come out of its loose ponytail.

  Well, there’s only one place for the mask now, and it’s called the garbage can, Jasmine thought. And if Nana or Dad notices, I’ll just tell them that I accidentally knocked the mask off the wall as I walked by with my big backpack. Ha! Accidentally on purpose, that is!

  Jasmine picked up the three pieces of the mask, careful not to give herself a splinter on its now-rough edges. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. Somehow, with the mask in three pieces, it had lost its power to scare her. It wasn’t a mask anymore. It was just pieces of wood. It was garbage, and that’s exactly where it was going! Jasmine walked up the basement stairs, wood pieces in hand, and into the kitchen, headed straight for the garbage can.

  She placed the mask pieces on top and pressed down on them so they smashed the garbage underneath. Then she realized she should cover them up so Nana wouldn’t see them. She took a few sheets of paper towels and crumpled them up, placing them carefully on top of the mask pieces so they wouldn’t be that noticeable.

  Mission accomplished. Bye-bye, mask! See you never! Jasmine thought as she grabbed her pink mask and brought it up to her room, laid it on top of her desk, flopped onto her bed, and turned on the television.

  CHAPTER 11

  By Friday, Jasmine had almost totally forgotten all about the mask. Outta sight, outta mind, she figured. Whenever she passed the empty nail in the hallway above the stairs, she thought about hanging up the pink mask she’d made on Mini-Course Day.

  After school Jasmine and Lisa were on Jasmine’s living room couch watching a movie. It was gray and raining outside, and Jasmine pulled a plaid blanket that her dad had brought from Scotland over her knees. She felt a nap coming on, actually. Momo was curled up in the crook of her knees, purring so loudly that it was almost distracting. Momo was also doing the hilarious part of his grooming ritual, in which he licked and bit his claws to get the old outer layer off. It was funny to see a cat biting its fingernails. Sometimes Jasmine bit her fingernails when she was nervous, but judging by his happy purring, Momo wasn’t feeling nervous in the slightest.

  “Are you asleep?” Lisa exclaimed, incredulous.

  “No,” Jasmine said. Before she could defend herself, the doorbell rang. Dingdong!

  That was odd. Jasmine wasn’t expecting anyone and as far as she knew, her grandmother wasn’t either. Nana was taking a nap in her room, and she hadn’t let Jasmine know of any visitors who might be stopping by. And Jasmine wasn’t supposed to open the door for strangers, so she didn’t answer. But then the doorbell rang again. Jasmine and Lisa looked at each other.

  “Maybe someone just left a package at the door,” Jasmine thought aloud.

  “You should go bring it in now,” Lisa said. “Because of the rain.”

  “Well, the porch is covered,” Jasmine said lazily, letting her eyes close again. “So it won’t get wet.”

  “Well, it’s damp out there, and it could still get ruined,” Lisa reasoned. “Anyway, if it’s a package, don’t you want to find out what it is? Maybe it’s a present for you. Maybe your dad sent you something from Siberia!”

  “Ha.” Jasmine laughed. “I don’t think so. He said that where he’s staying is so remote that you can only get there by helicopter, boat, or dogsled! You’re right, though, I’ll go bring it in,” Jasmine said, groaning, as she threw the blanket back and dragged herself off the couch.

  As she approached the front door, the rain sounded even louder. It was quite dark out even though it was only around four o’clock, and the wind was howling. Jasmine looked through the peephole. There was no one there, but there was a package on the porch. She also saw a delivery van driving away.

  Jasmine unlocked the door and opened it. The wind was blowing sideways, and raindrops splashed her face. She saw the package on the stairs and ran out to get it quickly before she got soaked.

  She barely looked at the package before she dashed back inside. But as Jasmine brought it into the living room, she glanced down and saw her name and address written in a shaky handwriting that she did not recognize. So it was for her, but what could it be?

  Lisa had been right: the package was quite damp. It felt cold, too. It made Jasmine want to crawl back under the plaid blanket.

  The package was wrapped in brown paper, like an old grocery bag that had been reused many times, and tied up like a present with twine. She wasn’t used to packages arriving like this. Usually they were sturdy brown boxes covered with clear tape, and certainly not tied up with some weird string. She untied the twine and pulled off the paper.

  And there, staring back at her through its empty eyeholes, was the last thing she expected to see. The mask.

  It was back in one piece, not three. You could still see the cracks, though the pieces had been carefully glued together, and if you didn’t know the mask was once broken, you might not even notice them.

  “Hey, it’s the mask,” Lisa said, looking over casually, as if Jasmine wouldn’t have known this without Lisa’s official announcement! “Why did it come in the mail?”

  “I don’t know,” Jasmine said.

  “Wasn’t it on the wall?” Lisa asked.

  “Yeah, it was,” Jasmine said. She hadn’t told Lisa about how she had smashed it.

  “So why did it come in the mail?” Lisa pressed.

  “I don’t know,” Jasmine said.

  “I don’t get it,” Lisa said again. “Who sent it?”

  “No, you really don’t get it, do you?” Jasmine said. The panic she felt made her voice rise. “I’m telling you I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” Lisa mumbled, her voice low. Then she seemed to remember how scared Jasmine must have been feeling. She knew the mask was a problem for her, after all. It had certainly been a problem in their friendship over the weekend. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “That’s just really weird that it came in the mail. Like, all of a sudden.”

  Jasmine said nothing. She just stared openmouthed at the mask.

  Then a sound somewhere between a crash, bang, and zap reverberated through the house. A bolt of lightning struck a tree in the front yard. Electric white-blue light filled the living room, like no light Jasmine and Lisa had ever seen.

  Spectral was what it was. That had been on a recent vocabulary list of Jasmine and Lisa’s. It meant ghostly.

  Startled, Jasmine dropped the mask. It fell onto the hardwood floor with a loud clatter. The sound was loud enough to scare Momo, who, already on edge from the lightning, bristled. He arched his back and ran out of the room in a flash.

  Then boom, boom, boom! went the loudest thunder Jasmine and Lisa had ever heard. Barely a second had passed between the lightning and thunder, so they knew the storm was really close. They both screamed. And screamed and screamed. So loudly that Jasmine covered her own ears to drown out the sound.

  CHAPTER 12

  Nana came rushing into the living room. Jasmine couldn’t help it; she ran over to her and threw her arms around her. The last time Jasmine had done that, she had reached only Nana’s knees.

  Jasmine and Lisa were both freaked out. Truly. Freaked. Out.

  Nana looked at the mask on the floor. “Oh, honeybunch, Nana thought you’d be happy,” Nana said to Jasmine. That was one really weird thing about Nana. She sometimes talked about herself in the third person, like Give Nana a hug or Nana loves Jasmine.

  “Happy?” Jasmine looked at Nana in disbelief. How could Nana think she’d be happy?

  “Well,” Nana continued, “I know you tried to get rid of this mask. I’m not sure how it got broken, but I don’t need to know that. And I don’t know why you’re so scared of it, but I know that you put it in the garbage. And I didn’t want you to get in trouble for it. Also, Nana didn’t want you to hurt your dad’s feelings. He puts a lot of thought into the gifts he brings back for us, you know.”

  Jasmine just stared at Nana. Was she trying to make her feel guilty?

  “So Nana sent it out to be fixed,” Nana continued, patting Jasmine’s back like she did when she was little. “I wanted to surprise you with it. That’s why I had the repair person address the package to you.”

  “Well, you sure surprised me!” Jasmine said, groaning. Clearly, she was never going to be able to get rid of this thing. She felt deeply resigned that the mask was here to stay. Ugh. What was she going to do?

  Jasmine signed dramatically. “Could we at least not hang it up again?” she asked Nana. “Or even better, could it just not be in the house, so I don’t have to look at it all the time? I don’t care where. I just don’t want to see it.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9