The Magicians' Convention
Page 3
“Yeah, which one is he?” chimed Jim.
“This is the kid Dad wanted us to find, you morons. I’m sure of it. I can tell from the look of him.”
Toby tried to wriggle free, but he felt Billy’s silk-covered hand over his mouth as he pushed his head against the door .
He heard the triplet on the right say, “Are you sure it’s him, Billy?”
“Yep. Definitely him,” said Billy, grinning from ear to ear.
“But he’s got a hat on. He’s an illusionist,” said Jim.
“He could have stolen it. I’m sure it’s him. I can tell from the common look of him. Now stop arguing with me and hold him tight so I can touch him,” said Billy. “You’re pathetic, you magician wannabe!”
He pulled Toby’s hat off his head and stomped on it, breaking the wire that held it straight. Then placed it back on Toby’s head.
As Billy took his hand off his mouth, Toby looked bewildered from one boy to the other. Did they know him? Were these strangers looking for him?
“I’m not who you think I am. I swear. I don’t belong here. I snuck in,” confessed Toby.
“See, it’s him! Told you so. Now shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you,” said Billy, smiling to himself.
“Please!” said Toby. He stood up straighter, despite the heavy hands holding him on either side.
“Just stay still. It will all be over in a moment,” said Billy as he took off his silk glove and moved his bare hand toward Toby’s face.
“You're a creep. What are you doing?” said Toby, wriggling to get free, but he couldn’t move. Together, the two boys holding him were too strong for him. He kicked his legs at them, but they just pinched his arms fiercely and laughed at him. He tried a different tactic.
“Do you know who I am? You wait until my father finds out about this. You just wait,” he said, trying to sound convincing .
Billy raised an eyebrow and asked, “Yeah? Who’s your father then?”
“I’m the son of . . . of . . . Luigi. That’s it. I’m the son of Luigi, the famous magician!” He had totally made that up, but thought Luigi sounded like a great name for a magician. He prayed they would believe him.
Billy doubled over in laughter. The triplet on the right said quite seriously, “But Luigi is Italian, isn’t he, Billy? This kid don't look Italian.”
Billy stood straight and serious again. “Shut up, Rod. He ain’t Luigi’s son, you moron. He’s Roberts’s grandson. There is no famous Luigi!”
Toby looked from one face to the other in shock. How did they know about Grandpa? He knew asking them for answers wouldn’t help.
“Hold him so I can touch his face,” said Billy to his two brothers.
“Get off me, you creeps. Get off!” yelled Toby.
He felt the pressure on one side ease as a silk hand covered his mouth again. Then he felt Billy’s bare hand touch his cheek. Billy was touching his face.
This is seriously wrong , he thought, which gave him the impetus to now break free. Whoever these three were and whatever they were up to, he just wanted to get away from them as fast as he could.
He pushed toward the side that held him more lightly now and bit down on the gloved hand over his mouth with all his might. Finding strength he didn’t know he had, he flung his hands out wildly, hitting the boys in front of him. Free at last, he charged at the black wall. He felt the familiar tingles all around his body as he passed through it unscathed and then ran bouncing into people. But he didn’t care. He just wanted to get away from those three boys.
Toby sprinted to the closest table he saw, skidded, fell to the ground, narrowly missing the legs of people standing all around him, and landed under the golden cloth that covered the table. He peered out, trying to calm his shaking body and soothe his nerves.
The three identical triplets emerged from the wall. He froze, feeling their eyes looking his way. But one of them pointed in the opposite direction and they soon disappeared into the crowd.
He let out a big sigh of relief. He shook his head out and brushed his cheek as he recalled how Billy had touched him with his bare hand. Yuck! What was that about?
Feeling a breeze, Toby looked behind him to see a friendly woman’s face looking at him upside down from the back side of the table. Where exactly was he?
5
The 999th Magicians’ Convention
“Are you all right, boy?” said the woman in what sounded to Toby like a friendly Jamaican accent. Her broad smile felt reassuring to him as she pulled him out from under the table. Toby looked at her gratefully. “I’m sorry. I was . . .” He wasn’t sure how to explain what he was doing under her table.
“I know you were running from those boys. I saw them push you into the foyer. You can relax now, they’ve gone. Oh my hummingbird, you’ve lost your hat,” she said, pointing to Toby’s head. His hat had finally separated from his head.
Settling into a comfortable chair, he looked at his surroundings for the first time. He felt his energy rise as he drank in the view. “Whoa!”
The large space before him was bustling with people. Just like the people he had seen outside Mrs. Inkwell’s house this morning, they all wore hats. The adults also wore long capes and silk gloves. Those with gold hats had black cloaks with golden stars on the inside lining, and those with purple hats had purple stars to match theirs .
Allowing his gaze to drift up, he saw that there was no ceiling in what appeared to be a giant circular stadium. Instead of lights, small golden candles floated in midair, bobbing and moving this way and that. Among the candles floated giant banners that shimmered and moved as though being blown by a summertime breeze. The words “Welcome to the 999th Magicians’ Convention” in beautiful gold typeface floated from banner to banner, as if they couldn’t decide where they would stop. It was mesmerizing.
Every so often one of the letters or numbers from the banners would explode into shards of gold light and fall through and around people like confetti. Toby looked down, noticing that the carpet he stood on stretched forever. It was a soft golden color to match the other decorations. As he brought his gaze to the table he stood behind, he saw wonders unknown to him. He recognized wands, playing cards, and coins. But there were also curious-looking boxes and strange devices that looked like they belonged in a future time.
He couldn’t stop his mouth from opening wide as a girl wearing a golden hat picked up a box on the table, tapped it three times, and said the word, “Abracadabra.”
Three miniature people emerged from the box. They stretched their tiny wings and flew about. Were fairies real? They each bowed to the girl and floated toward her ear. She laughed as though they whispered something funny and waved to get the attention of the nice lady standing next to Toby.
“Three gold pieces for my fairy illusion, little girl,” said the lady as she laughed along with the merry girl .
“Is this all real?” Toby was filled with curiosity and wonder.
He felt her jolly laugh roll through him as she replied, “Just illusions, but to the human mind, what is real and what is not? Does it look real to you?”
“Very real.” Toby watched the girl walk away, blushing over her new box. The little creatures flew beside her.
“Why does everyone say abracadabra here?”
“So many questions. You should know that. You are a magician, yes?” She looked at him, still beaming, while taking more gold coins from shoppers and passing out her wares.
Toby was not a magician, of course, and as he stared at the woman’s soft eyes, he didn’t feel it was right to lie to her. “No. No, I’m not. I’m not even allowed to be here, am I?” He felt heat creeping up his face.
“You’re here now, aren’t you? Everything happens for a reason. Stay a while. See what you think of the Magicians’ Convention. You might discover you have some magic after all,” she said, bobbing her head from side to side. The beads on the end of her braided hair clicked together as though clapping. Toby let her take his h
ands, not sure why he trusted her.
She looked at his palms, stroking them gently with her fingers. “Time to go find your fate.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he felt nervous hearing her words.
“And some friends,” she said, holding a golden hat toward him.
Toby looked at the crumpled golden hat. The steel frame was bent, and part of the wire had broken through the gold silk.
“This is your hat, I believe.”
“You found my hat! But it’s destroyed. Those horrible boys did this.”
“It is easy to fix. The word abracadabra, to answer your earlier question, has power. For us illusionists, it has power because all illusions are programmed to work only with that word. But for a true mage, the word is just for theatrics. It is the rule to use it either way. Go ahead, say the word to the hat.”
Not really understanding what she meant about the word, or her distinction between mages and illusionists, he decided to try it anyway. Holding the hat toward his face and concentrating with all his might, he said more loudly than he had planned to, “Abracadabra!”
His friendly savior chuckled, took the hat from Toby, and spun it in her hand. “You don’t have to burst as you say the word.”
Toby watched in awe as the hat completely restored itself. Not a tear remained. The wire was once again neatly inside the golden material. The top part stretched out, filling the space and becoming whole again.
“Did I do that?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear.
“You’re a magician now!” She placed the hat on his head and pushed him past the side of the table and into the walkway. “Now go find some friends. Boys your age need firm companions.”
Forgetting to thank her, he wandered off, absentmindedly wondering why she kept telling him to find friends. Having friends wasn’t something he’d ever been good at. Grandpa was so overprotective he never let Toby have any friends over. Even when he had been at school, Grandpa wasn’t keen on having friends around. So Toby quit asking. And quit having friends.
He felt bad that he hadn’t even asked the kind lady’s name, but he was still blushing from the fact he had done real magic!
The sights and sounds before him were so incredible he felt lost in the excitement and wandered through the convention, completely forgetting why he was even there—to find his grandpa.
6
Alexander Kirby
Toby walked as if in a dream. His senses couldn’t take it all in, so wondrous and full of color and movement was everything. Stalls of every description surrounded him. Lavish gold material was laid out on each of the tables, holding mysterious looking boxes, long tubes, top hats, card decks, and coins.
Young children chased live bunnies that were breaking free from hats, and doves flew in all directions. The smell of newness and promise filled his eyes, nose, and ears.
With so many magicians calling their wares and inviting the passersby, young and old, to buy their latest illusions, Toby couldn’t decide where to stop. He finally gave in to the temptation of a small corner stall, which sold wands of all sizes.
He felt intrigued as the magician explained the different wands and the illusions each could do. The short portly man had a long mustache that spread all the way down to his orange kilt. He picked up a wand as long as Toby’s arm and waved it, saying, “Abracadabra.”
A giant bouquet of what smelled like real red roses appeared. He pulled them from the wand and handed them to a group of teenage girls who took the flowers and went off giggling.
Then he picked up a second wand, which was covered in a fur exterior.
“Katty,” he called in surprise. Toby joined the onlookers, trying to spot who the portly man was calling.
“Ah, there you are,” said the magician as he picked up the small black cat that emerged from the large gold curtain behind his table.
“There’s a good cat,” he said, waving his wand. “Abracadabra!”
The cat was clearly used to swimming through the air as it graciously did somersaults without so much as a purr. It glided among the floating golden candles that generously lit up the space, and then floated right back over the gold curtain it had emerged from.
Toby clapped with so much enthusiasm his hands burned. He noticed there was nothing holding the curtain up. How curious and inviting this world was. He forced himself to move along as the magician conjured up a rainbow of colored parrots from his hat that flew away and dispersed among the crowd.
Despite being a stranger here, he felt oddly at home. How did this entire giant hall fit into his street? He also wondered how someone got to attend this event and how it was possible to keep an event of this magnitude a secret.
As he continued exploring, it was obvious that the people attending were all magicians. It was clearly an invitation-only event, and he was a party crasher.
He reminded himself he was here to find Grandpa. The panther wanted him here, or it wouldn’t have asked him to join the line. But what was he meant to do now? Where was he meant to go?
All he knew was he needed to find Thatch and Wesa—the two names Grandpa had left for him on the blackboard. Maybe Grandpa had known he would try to follow the people inside. Still, it wasn’t the most useful clue he could have left.
He decided the best thing to do was to ask someone for help.
Toby moved toward a stall filled with candy. He pushed his way past the children clamoring for a taste.
The woman behind the table looked like she belonged in a Danish pastry shop rather than at a magic convention. Her white hair was braided neatly in two long rows, and her dress was red and festive. She, of course, wore a golden top hat.
“Would you like to taste a sweet?” she said.
“No, thank you. Can you help me please, miss? I’m looking for a Thatch or Wesa? Have you heard of them?” he asked, feeling silly for not knowing who they were or if they were even people. Perhaps they were places and not people at all.
The lady beamed a smile at him and picked up a huge toffee, ignoring his question completely. “Here, try this. You’ll love it.”
Before Toby could protest, she shoved the candy into his mouth.
Toby chewed it as best he could given its enormous size. Trying to speak though the toffee with no luck, he gave in and wondered what magic thing it would do. The woman watched him the whole time, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
What would happen, he wondered? Would it grow? Vanish? Explode? He continued to chew the giant toffee and shrugged at the lady. She stared at him intently.
When the last of the candy faded away in his mouth, Toby looked at her, confused. “Nothing happened. It was just a normal toffee. Anyway, back to my—”
He never got to finish his sentence as his mouth filled back up with the toffee. It had reappeared in his mouth—like magic!
“It’s back!” he said as best he could while chewing the monstrous candy.
“Yes, of course it is. You thought you already ate it, but it never gets eaten. A toffee that lasts forever so you only need to buy it once! That will be six gold coins please.” She laid out her hand, smiling so much her cheeks were stretched to capacity.
“But I didn’t buy it! You gave it to me.” He spat it into his hand and offered it back to her.
“Once you eat it, you cannot give it back! Six gold coins, or I’ll have you thrown out, you naughty little boy.” Her smile was now replaced with anger.
Toby had no gold coins. He felt inside his pocket and found a fifty-cent piece. Handing it to the lady, he said, “I can give you this or give you the toffee back, but I have no gold.”
“This money is no good to me—you dishonest boy! I’m going to throw you out myself!”
Toby didn’t know what to do. He had no gold coins .
The magician squeezed out of the side of her table and into the crowd. She grabbed him by his arm and led him along the other stalls, leaving her own stall unattended.
“You forced me to eat it. I didn’t
know. Please let me go. Please. I’m not a magician. I don’t know your rules.”
Stopping abruptly, she yelled loudly over the noise of the crowd, “Don’t lie, little boy. You wouldn’t be here unless you were from a magician family. The doors don’t let anyone in! Where are your parents?”
Toby stuck the toffee back in his mouth, not knowing what to say in reply. He knew there was no use arguing with her or trying to convince her he didn’t belong here.
“I’ll take him,” said a voice behind them.
Toby turned to see a boy his own age dressed in blue overalls that matched his eyes. His sandy-blond hair hung limply, as did the boy’s demeanor. “Security” was scribbled messily on the front of his overalls in capital letters, as though written with permanent marker by a first grader.
The woman turned around abruptly, dragging Toby with her. She held tight to his arm. Desperate to get away from her now, despite the risk of being thrown out, he spat his toffee into his hand and yelled, “Yes, take me away and kick me out. I stole this toffee.”
“He’s admitting it, you see?” the lady said. “He ate that toffee and won’t pay for it. Made up some story about not being a magician so he could get away with it.” She huffed and puffed so much Toby thought she might explode.
The boy wearing the overalls frowned at her. He then looked at Toby, narrowing his eyes as if to see who was telling the truth. Toby figured if he had the word security written on him, then security was what he was. He smiled at him, hoping for leniency.
“How much does he owe?” said the security boy.
“Six gold coins,” she replied, holding out her hand while clinging tight to Toby with her other hand.
The boy handed her six gold coins from his pocket. “Thank you, ma’am, and sorry for the trouble. I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said and grabbed Toby by his other arm.
The Danish-looking magician straightened her braids and composed herself. “Thank you, Thatch.” Her fake smile restored, she waltzed back to her stall.