Fiends on the Other Side (Disney Chills 2)

Suddenly, they lit up with flames.

Jamal’s eyes widened in fear. “H-how’d you do that?” he stammered.

“Step inside my shop, little man,” Dr. Facilier said, “and I’ll show you.”

“Follow me, little man.”

Dr. Facilier thrust open the heavy door to his shop, which creaked on its hinges, and ushered Jamal inside. Jamal ducked quickly under the three skulls that still burned with flames.

It’s probably just a trick, Jamal thought. Like the street performers in the French Quarter who did magic tricks to dazzle tourists into giving them bills and loose change. His father had warned him about them.

“This way, my young friend,” Dr. Facilier said, leading him deeper into the shop. It took a moment for Jamal’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. Shadows cast by flickering candles curled and undulated. They almost looked alive.

His gaze passed over glass bottles of colorful potions, shrunken heads, dusty books piled on shelves, and the handmade dolls. The air smelled musty and stale, yet sweet and alluring at the same time.

The skull necklace around his neck throbbed with light. Run, run, run, it seemed to warn him. Everything about the shop felt strange and unnatural. It felt wrong. He wanted to run away as fast as his legs would carry him, but something stopped him. He clutched the business card tighter. Dreams made real. The promise echoed through his head. Dr. Facilier was right: he did need help.

He took a deep breath to steady his racing heart. “What is this place?”

“My humble business, of course,” Dr. Facilier said, gesturing around with his cane. “This is where I do my special work.”

Jamal’s eyes darted to the dolls in the front window. Their faces were crude swatches of burlap fabric, and their eyes were mismatched buttons. Pins stuck out of their lumpy bodies. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. Their faces were turned toward him. When he’d entered the shop, they had been facing away, staring out the front window.

How did that happen?

Jamal remembered how they had seemed to be watching him when he was on the school bus. Between that and the skull necklace burning his chest and flashing urgently with light, he started to feel like he’d made a mistake.

“Uh, I really should be going,” he said, backing toward the door. The dolls’ button eyes seemed to follow him, raising all the hairs on his arms. His heart thudded in his chest. “My parents will miss me if I don’t get home for dinner soon…. They’ll start to worry.”

“But will your parents worry?” Dr. Facilier said with a sympathetic look. “They prefer your twin brother, don’t they? You’re invisible at home, too. You’re always in his shadow.”

“No, that’s not true,” Jamal said. “They love us both…equally.”

“Are you sure about that?” Dr. Facilier said. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of purple dust, which he blew into the air. It swirled around them and then slowly resolved into images.

Jamal recognized them. They were scenes from his life. They materialized in the air around the shop and played out like scenes in a movie.

His parents cheering for his brother at a basketball game. His parents watching Malik play trumpet at a jazz recital. His parents at the dinner table praising Malik, but ignoring Jamal. The family photos of his brother crowding the mantel, but almost none of Jamal.

“Wait, how are you doing that?” Jamal said, backing farther away in fear. The images from his life kept playing anyway. A smile twisted Dr. Facilier’s face.

“I told you I have special powers. My friends on the other side tell me secrets. Trust me, little man. I can help you.”

Jamal wanted to run away. He wanted to listen to the skull necklace and its warning. But the images hypnotized him. It was true: his parents did prefer his twin brother.

“You can change this?” Jamal asked. “But how?”

Dr. Facilier gestured to a round table with a tablecloth, set on a pedestal and surrounded by red velvet-backed chairs. The whole setting was illuminated by a crystal chandelier. “Have a seat,” he said, tipping his cane toward it. “I can read your future. I may even be able to change it for you. The shadow man can make your every dream come true.”

“You can really do all that?” Jamal asked. He chewed his lower lip. He knew he should leave, but something tempted him. He thought about the bullies waiting for him at school the next day, the bus driver deserting him on the curb, the teachers who never called on him even though he knew the answers, and his empty yearbook pages. “You can help me?”

“Sit down and you’ll find out,” Dr. Facilier said, leading Jamal over to the table. They took a seat, and Facilier produced a deck of tarot cards. They looked old. He shuffled them with great skill, then fanned them out on the table.

“Take three cards,” Dr. Facilier said. “Let’s see what your future holds.”

Jamal reached for the deck and carefully selected his first card, then a second and third, laying them facedown on the table in front of him.

With a flourish, Dr. Facilier flipped over the first card. It depicted two children, but one of them stood in front of the other. Dr. Facilier pointed to the card with his spindly finger.