The Curse of the Blue Figurine by John Bellairs Page A

found the old man kneeling beside the tub. He was wearing a rubber waterproof apron, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. The tub was half full of water,  and in it floated a fleet of little wooden boats. They were galleys, with matchstick oars and little triangular sails. Little paper flags fluttered from the sterns of the ships. Half of the flags were red and gold and had coats of arms on them. The other half were green and had gold crescents. The professor explained that he was reenacting the Battle of Lepanto, which had taken place in 1571. In it the Christian ships led by Don John of Austria had defeated the ships of the Turks. With a little book open in his left hand and a stick held in his right the professor moved the ships around. When a ship got taken or sunk, the professor would reach in and lift it out of the water and put it on a shelf over the tub. Next to the tub was a blackboard where the professor kept score. The scoreboard looked like this:

    "Now then," said the professor as he pushed two boats together, "what did you want to see me about?"
    Johnny told him. He explained about the spiders and the feeling of being followed that he had had the other night, and about the dream. The professor listened thoughtfully while Johnny talked, but he did not seem particularly worried.
    "Is that all?" said the professor when Johnny was through. "I mean, is that all that's got you worried?"
    Johnny felt offended. Here he was trying to tell the  professor his troubles, and what he was getting in response was Ho, hum, is that all? "I... I thought you'd tell me what to do," said Johnny in an offended voice.
    Immediately the professor saw that he had hurt Johnny's feelings. He hadn't meant to. Now he heaved a deep, dispirited sigh. He stood up and started untying the strings of his apron. "Look, John," he said slowly, "I am not trying to make light of your worries. But I do think this whole business is in your mind. Spiders can find places to live and hatch their eggs in an old house even in wintertime. As for your dream and your feeling that you were followed... well, the power of suggestion is pretty strong. You heard my ghost story—which, by the way, I wish I had never, ever told you—and then you found that dratted hunk of blue crockery. You've got Father Baart and ghosts on the brain, my boy, and that's why you've got the heebie-jeebies these days. And do you know what I suggest as a cure? Hmmm?"
    Johnny shook his head. "I dunno, Professor. What?"
    The professor paused dramatically. He folded up his apron and put it away in the bathroom closet. Then he turned back to Johnny, rubbing his hands and grinning hugely. "I would suggest," he said, "that you let me beat the holy bejesus out of you in a chess game or two, and that you then eat a huge, glutty, calorie-filled hunk of my delectable prune cake, with creamy smooth chocolate frosting, and whipped cream on top. How's that for a prescription? Eh?"
    Johnny liked the idea. His little visit to the professor turned into a long and enjoyable—and filling—stay. When he went home that evening, he felt that maybe the professor was right after all. The whole business was just his imagination working overtime.
    A month passed. Windy March turned into sloppy wet April, and—much to Gramma's annoyance—the spiders came back to 23 Fillmore Street. On the other hand the spooky feelings and dreams that had been bothering Johnny went away. And one evening, when he was down at the library, Johnny picked up the new April issue of Hobbies and saw that his question had been answered. This was the answer:
    We have consulted antique dealers in the city of Cairo, Illinois, and we have discovered that mummy-shaped souvenir figures were sold in that city late in the nineteenth century. They were made in three colors, gold, blue, and red, and they were manufactured by Mound City Novelties of St. Louis, Missouri. We are informed that such an object, in good condition, would be