Free Spell of the Sorcerer's Skull by John Bellairs

way through the crowd. Willie was a tall, dopey-looking kid with thick glasses, and he had been one of the altar boys at today's Mass. He was still wearing his long red cassock, and he was grinning from ear to ear. Johnny wondered what he was so pleased about.
    "Hey, Dixon!" yelled Willie. "Father Higgins wants ta see ya!" Willie chortled. He was bubbling over with malicious amusement. Obviously Willie thought that Johnny was in trouble, and that pleased him no end. He didn't have anything in particular against Johnny—he just liked seeing other kids get bawled out.
    When they heard what Willie was saying, Gramma and Grampa both looked upset. Mrs. McGinnis clucked and acted prissy, as she always did when bad things happened to other people. Johnny, however, was calm. He turned and smiled smugly at Willie.
    "Okay," he said quietly. "I'll be with you in a minute." Then he turned back to Gramma and Grampa. "I have to go see Father Higgins about something," he said quickly. "It's... it's not very important, it's just about the altar boy schedule. You go ahead—I'll walk home afterward."
    Before his grandparents had a chance to say anything, Johnny was plunging off into the crowd behind Willie. The expression on Willie's face showed that he was perplexed. Why was Dixon so eager to go and get chewed out? When they got to the door of the sacristy, there was Father Higgins. The iron doors of the big Mosler walk-in safe were open, and he was putting away the sacred vessels—the chalice, the ciborium, and the gold-plated paten. As the two boys watched, he swung the squealing doors shut and locked them.
    "Good morning, John!" said the priest, turning to face him. His eyes were gleaming, and there was a secretive smile on his face. "How goes it with you today, eh?"
    "Uh... okay, I guess, Father." Johnny's mouth twitched into a nervous smile. Even though the priest was his friend, he often felt nervous around him. Anybody who was in authority gave Johnny the jitters. "Did... did you want to talk to me about something?"
    "I did indeed!" the priest replied, and his voice sounded ominous. At this Willie smirked expectantly. Now Dixon was going to get it! But to his great surprise, Willie suddenly found the priest glaring at him.
    "Well, Mr. Prine," he growled, "I don't think I need you any longer. You had better put out the candles, change into your clothes, and go home."
    Willie's face fell. "Uh... yeah, sure, Father. See ya later." And with that, he turned and went out, closing the door behind him.
    Now Johnny and Father Higgins were alone in the sacristy. At first the priest said nothing. He walked over to the tall walnut dresser where the Mass vestments were kept. On top of the dresser was a heavy iron crucifix. Next to it lay a neatly folded road map. As Johnny watched, Father Higgins picked up the map. He held it up so that Johnny could see the title on the front. It was a road map of the state of Maine.
    "I've been doing some thinking about those two little messages that Saint Anthony scrawled down for us," he said, tapping the map against the edge of the dresser. "And you know, all of a sudden, last night at dinner, it came to me! I should've thought of it before, because I have hundreds and hundreds of folk songs rattling around in my head. Here, hold this!"
    To Johnny's surprise, Father Higgins handed him the map. Then he turned and strode quickly to the coat closet in the far corner of the room. Opening the door, he reached in and pulled out—a guitar!
    Johnny's mouth dropped open. He was completely dumbfounded and also very amused. So Father Higgins played the guitar! He normally looked so stern and forbidding that... well, it was like finding out that the mayor loved to roller-skate! As Johnny watched, the priest put the strap of the guitar around his neck, played a few opening chords, and then launched into a loud, lusty chorus:
    Â 
    Haul down your sails where the bays run together,
    While away your days in the