Amulet of Doom Read Free

she was unfolding.
    Until the very end, when something strange happened.
    â€œAnd that was the last I saw of Eldred Cooley!” she said triumphantly. Then her eyes, which had been blazing, seemed to go all cloudy. “The last time but one,” she murmured, placing her hand at her throat. Marilyn could hear a troubled note in her voice, and when she looked more closely, she noticed that Zenobia’s fingers seemed to tremble as they clasped the golden chain she wore around her neck. Suddenly she tightened her grip. For a moment Marilyn thought she was going to pull off the amulet. “The last time but one,” she repeated.
    They waited respectfully. But it was almost as if Zenobia had left the porch. Her body was there—her white hair moving lightly in the breeze, her right hand clutching the last inch of her cigar. But she herself seemed to have vanished.
    Finally Marilyn could stand the silence no longer. “Aunt Zenobia, are you all right?”
    Zenobia blinked. “Of course,” she said hurriedly. “I was just thinking about Egypt. Egypt, and Eldred Cooley, and Suleiman.”
    â€œYou mean Solomon?” asked Kyle eagerly. “Like in King Solomon’s Mines ?”
    â€œNo,” said Zenobia sharply. “Suleiman, like in Suleiman. A lot of people get them confused. Remind me and I’ll tell you about them sometime.”
    With that she tossed her cigar butt over the porch railing and stalked into the house.

2
    THE AMULET
    Marilyn, Kyle, and Geoff stood in shocked silence.
    â€œWhat did I say?” asked Kyle finally.
    â€œNothing,” said Geoff. “Aunt Zenobia’s a few strawberries shy of a shortcake is all. You have to expect this kind of thing from her.”
    â€œShe’s not crazy!” snapped Marilyn. “She’s brilliant!”
    Geoff shrugged. “I didn’t say she was stupid. She may have more I.Q. points than all of New Jersey put together. That doesn’t mean she could pass the state sanity test. Come on, Kyle—let’s go over to your place and shoot a few baskets before we have to turn in.”
    The two of them banged down the steps, leaving Marilyn alone on the porch. She twisted a lock of her red hair in tight circles around her finger. She would never admit it to Geoff, but there was something strange going on with Aunt Zenobia. She had been oddly distracted ever since she arrived—sometimes seeming like her old self, other times drifting off into a kind of trance, as she had just now. A couple of times Marilyn had caught her fingering the chain of that amulet and staring blankly into space.
    Marilyn had mentioned it to her mother last night, but Mrs. Sparks claimed it was just prepublication jitters. “After all, Aunt Zenobia’s new book is scheduled to be released in two weeks. It’s natural for her to be a bit nervous about what the critics will say. Especially,” she had added maliciously, “if it’s as weird as the last one. Honestly, I don’t know where that woman gets her ideas.”
    At least Aunt Zenobia has ideas , Marilyn had thought unkindly.
    She began to dawdle her way down the porch steps. Moving dreamily, she trailed her fingers along the railing, still thinking about Zenobia. When she reached the flagstone walk that led to the street, Brick came wandering up to rub against her legs.
    Brick was the Sparkses’ cat, a black-and-white stray they had taken in a few years ago. After three weeks of trying to name him, they had settled on Brick, because her father claimed that was exactly what the cat was as dumb as.
    Now Brick was meowing for attention. So Marilyn scooped him up. Then she turned to look at the house.
    It was an old place, built sometime around the turn of the century. She was glad of that. Occasionally she thought she might like to live in one of the more modern houses that had sprung up lately on the outskirts of town. But every time she spent the