by R. L. Stine
I found a small black sack that held three oval shells and a little red ball. The shell game, I realized. One of my favorite tricks. You hide the ball under one of the shells and shift them around. The audience has to guess which shell the ball is under.
They always guess wrong, because the ball isn’t under any of the shells. The magician secretly palms the ball while he’s shifting the shells around.
Gets ’em every time.
I reached into the case again. My hand brushed against something silky. I pulled it out. It was a black tuxedo jacket.
“Wow!” I gasped. “Amaz-O’s own jacket!”
I had to try it on. I pulled it over my shoulders. It was too big. The shoulders drooped halfway down my arms, and the sleeves covered my hands.
But it felt great. I ran my hands over the satin lapels.
I stood up and walked around in it. A real magician’s jacket. I wonder what he’s got in the pockets?
I stuck my hands in the pockets. But suddenly I felt something wiggle. Along the back of the jacket, near my neck.
I shook my shoulders. The wiggling stopped.
But then I felt it again. Something came sliding down the sleeve!
I shook my arm. What is it? I thought. Is it alive?
The thing crawled along my arm. “Yuck!” I sputtered. “Get off me!” I squirmed inside the coat, trying to shake the thing off.
I had to get the jacket off—right away! I struggled to get my arms out of the sleeves.
Then something poked its head out. Out of the sleeve, near my hand.
A snake.
A live snake.
16
I clamped my mouth shut to keep from screaming. The snake felt warm and creepy against my arm. I shook my arm hard. The snake clung to me!
I gritted my teeth and shook my arm again. And again. I brushed at my sleeve with my free hand.
It wasn’t working!
I shook my arm once more, as hard as I could. The snake uncoiled and slithered out of the sleeve. It dropped to the floor.
It hissed and curved around the toy chest. I watched it with a shiver.
Then I felt it again—that slippery, wriggling feeling. Something hissed near my ear and squirmed across my shoulder.
“Ohhh!” I moaned. Another snake! I slapped at it. “Get off me!”
As I tried to brush the snake away, another one slithered down my sleeve. Something slimy wriggled across my stomach and down my back. A snake popped out of an inner pocket and plopped to the floor. It started to coil around my leg.
The jacket is crammed with snakes! I realized with horror.
I thrashed my arms, frantically trying to tear off the jacket. A snake slid down the front of my shirt.
I thrashed harder, shaking my arms and legs. Now I was covered with snakes! My whole body!
I wanted to scream—but I couldn’t wake Mom and Dad. A snake curled up my neck and around my head. I squirmed, desperately trying to get out of the jacket.
“Help!” I moaned. “Ohhhh—help!”
17
Snakes everywhere!
One slithered over my head. With a trembling hand, I grabbed at it and heaved it away.
Gasping in terror, I struggled out of the jacket. I tossed it on the floor. Snakes wriggled over it. Snakes wriggled over my feet. I hopped up and down. Then I hopped onto a chair. A snake coiled up the leg of the chair. It crept closer. “Go away!” I whispered. “Leave me alone!”
The snake hissed. I jumped off the chair.
Squish! My stomach turned. Did I step on a snake? I was afraid to look.
I lifted my foot and glanced down. I hadn’t stepped on a snake. It was one of Ginny’s old dolls.
A snake slid over the doll’s face and around its neck. Another snake slithered over my shoe.
There’s no escape! I realized. I’ve got no choice—I have to wake up Mom and Dad. What else can I do?
I hopped around the squirming, hissing snakes.
I’ll get into trouble, I thought. But at least I’ll be out of this snake pit!
A snake darted toward me—then suddenly froze. The room fell silent. No more hissing.
All around me the snakes stopped moving. They lay stiff on the floor. Their cold eyes stared.
What happened? Were they dead?
I glanced around, afraid to move. The floor was littered with dead snakes.
How could they all die at once? I wondered. It’s so weird!
I stood there, not moving a muscle. My eyes darted around the room.
I slowly reached out my leg and tapped one of the snakes with my foot. It jiggled a little.
I took a deep breath. Should I touch it?
I got up the courage to bend close to the snake. I stuck out a finger and poked at it. Nothing happened. My heart pounded. I picked up the snake.
It lay limp in my hand. It didn’t seem real.
I twisted the body. It was rubber! I examined the eyes. They were made of glass.
They’re mechanical snakes, I realized.
I turned the snake over. I found a tiny wind-up key hidden under a rubber flap.
Amaz-O’s jacket was rigged with wind-up snakes.
I began to breathe again. Everything is okay, I told myself. I don’t have to wake up Mom and Dad. I’m not going to get into trouble. I’m not going to be eaten alive by snakes.
When will I learn? I scolded myself. All of these things are just tricks. None of them is real. Amaz-O is a magician.
I gathered up the snakes and stuffed them back inside the jacket. Then I jammed the jacket into Amaz-O’s magic kit. I took one last look inside the bag.
This is amazing, I thought. I’ve got some of Amaz-O’s best tricks—right here in my own house!
I forced myself to close the kit. I’d better stop fooling around with this stuff, I thought—before anything else happens!
I’ll check it all out on Saturday. In daylight, when I have plenty of time to see how it all works.
Then I’ll give the kit back to Amaz-O. On Monday.
I knew I had to return the kit. It had been wrong to take it. And crazy.
If only Amaz-O hadn’t been so mean to me! He used me in his act—and then he locked me in the basement! He told me to get lost. He called me a punk!
I started to get angry all over again. Amaz-O doesn’t deserve to get his magic kit back, I thought.
But deep down I knew I had to return it. I wanted to do the right thing. I’d check out the tricks, then give them back.
Of course, I didn’t know then how dangerous the kit was. I didn’t know the trouble it would cause.
If I had known, I would have returned the case that night!
18
“Another day of work,” Mom sighed at the breakfast table the next morning. “I’m absolutely dreading it. Those students just drive me crazy.”
Dad grabbed a doughnut and gazed out the window. “It’s raining,” he said unhappily. “I probably won’t sell a single car today.”
Ginny and I exchanged glances. Mom and Dad had no idea we had sneaked out the night before.
I slumped into a chair and ate my cereal. I was sleepy. I’m not used to staying up so late.
“You look tired, Tim,” Mom said, sitting across from me. She glanced at Ginny. “So do you, honey.”
“Didn’t you two get any sleep?” Dad asked.
“Sure we did,” I replied.
Ginny grinned. “Not that much sleep. Tim and I have a secret!”
The little brat! I kicked her under the table.
“Ow!” she cried. “Tim kicked me!”
“Don’t kick your sister,” Dad scolded. “I have to leave.” He picked up his briefcase and kissed Mom good-bye. “Off to another day of torture. See you tonight, kids.”
Dad left. Mom started clearing away the breakfast dishes. “Did you say something about a secret?” she asked.
“No!” I insisted. “Ginny didn’t say anything about a secret. She said, ‘Tim and I wa
nt a wee pet.’”
Mom shot me a weird look. “A what? A wee pet?”
“Yeah,” I said. “You know, a little pet. A nice little kitten or something. Ginny’s learning about Scotland in school now. She’s picked up some Scottish words, right, Ginny? She’s been running around calling everything ‘wee’.”
“I have not,” Ginny protested. “I’ve never called anything ‘wee’ in my life! And I’m not learning about Scotland in school!”
“Yes, you are,” I insisted.
“What in the world are you two talking about?” Mom carried the pile of cereal bowls to the sink.
“We did a bad thing, Mom,” Ginny blurted out. “Ow!” I kicked her again, but that didn’t stop her.
“We sneaked out last night, Mom. We rode our bikes to Midnight Mansion to see the magic show. We didn’t get back until after midnight. I’m sorry, Mom. Please don’t get angry. Tim made me do it. I didn’t want to.”
I covered my face with my hands. Why does Ginny have to be such a big mouth?
I’m doomed, I thought. Doomed!
19
“What did you say, Ginny?” Mom asked, wiping her hands on a towel. “I was running water in the sink, and I couldn’t hear you.”
I let out a long breath. I couldn’t believe my luck. I glared at Ginny and kicked her again—really hard this time.
“Nothing, Mom,” Ginny murmured. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You two better get ready for school,” Mom said.
I pushed my chair away from the table and dragged Ginny out of hers. “We’ll be ready in a minute, Mom,” I said.
“What is your problem?” I whispered to Ginny in the hall. “You could’ve gotten us in big trouble!”
“You would get in trouble. Not me,” Ginny replied. “You’re the big brother. You made me go.”
“I didn’t make you do anything. And anyway, you promised not to tell!”
“You promised not to peek into Amaz-O’s kit until Saturday,” Ginny reminded me. “But I sneaked up to the attic this morning—and I know you looked! You opened that bag! You even played with some of the stuff!”
“Me? I did not!” I lied.
“Yes, you did. One of the sleeves of a jacket was sticking out of the kit. And I found a scarf on the floor. You big fat liar!”
“So what? You’ll still get to see the stuff on Saturday.”
“You promised,” Ginny repeated. She flicked my nose. “Boi-oi-oing.”
I stormed into my room. There’s no arguing with Ginny. She does whatever she wants—promise or no promise.
She’s always getting me into trouble, I thought angrily. She drives me crazy! I wish there were some way I could pay her back. Some way to pay her back for everything.
Little did I realize I would soon find it.
20
“Are you sure you kids don’t want to go to the antiques show with us?” Dad asked. “You might see some neat old junk there.”
“We’re sure,” I insisted. Saturday morning had arrived, and all I could think about was Amaz-O’s magic kit. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it.
I wished my parents would hurry up and leave.
“All right,” Mom said, kissing Ginny and then me. “There’s tuna salad in the fridge for lunch. We won’t be back until dinnertime.”
“Be good,” Dad added.
“I’ll be good,” Ginny declared. “I don’t know about Tim.”
I tried to shove her, but she dodged me. “I’ll be good,” I promised. “I’m always good.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Just don’t fight too much,” she said. “’Bye.”
Ah. At last. As soon as they were gone, I raced to the phone and dialed Foz’s number.
“The coast is clear,” I told him. “Come on over.”
I’d told Foz all about the show at Midnight Mansion and Amaz-O’s magic kit. He begged me to let him see the cool tricks in Amaz-O’s bag.
As soon as Foz arrived, we all trooped up to the attic. Ginny made a beeline for the magic kit. I blocked her.
“Heee-ya!” She leaped into a pre-karate chop stance. “Out of my way!”
“Ginny—wait!” I pleaded. “There’s a lot of weird stuff in that bag. Let me show it to you my way.”
“Okay.” She relaxed. “But don’t forget you’re supposed to share it with me.”
I pulled up two chairs. “You guys sit here,” I said to Ginny and Foz. “And get ready for the greatest magic show in the history of the world!”
I reached into the toy chest and pulled out Amaz-O’s magic kit. I held it up in front of Foz and Ginny. “First,” I began in my magician voice, “gaze deeply into the magic trove.”
I held the bag near their faces. They stared at it. I yanked it open.
Kaboom! It made the exploding sound, just as it did the first time I opened it.
Ginny and Foz fell off their chairs!
“What happened?” Foz moaned, clutching his head. “That thing blew up in my face!”
I cracked up. “It’s only a sound effect,” I explained.
“Not funny,” Ginny complained.
“You should have seen your faces,” I said gleefully. I reached into the black sack that held the three shells and the red ball. I set the shells in a row on a small table.
“Watch closely,” I said. I held up the red ball. “See this ball? I’ll place it under one of these shells.” I pretended to tuck the ball under the middle shell. But secretly I palmed the ball and flicked it up my sleeve.
I began moving the shells over the table, shifting their places.
“Keep your eyes on the middle shell,” I instructed. Then I stopped moving the shells.
“Which shell is the ball under?” I asked.
“That one,” Ginny said, pointing to the shell on the right.
“Are you sure?” I prompted. “Foz, where do you think the ball is?”
“The same one as Ginny,” he said. “I watched it the whole time.”
“If you say so,” I said. I was sure the ball wasn’t under that shell—it wasn’t under any of them. I felt the ball rubbing against my wrist.
I lifted the shell—and gasped. There was a ball under there. A red ball, just like the one I’d palmed.
“I was right!” Ginny crowed. “That’s a stupid trick.”
“But this is impossible!” I cried. I let the first ball fall out of my sleeve. I had palmed it.
“This is very strange,” I muttered. “Let me try again.”
I dropped the first ball on the floor. I picked up the second ball and pretended to slip it under a different shell. I palmed the ball and tucked it up my sleeve again.
“Here we go,” I said, shifting the shells all over the table. I slid the shells around a little longer, then stopped.
“The ball is under the first shell,” Foz said.
“Yes, the first shell,” Ginny agreed.
“This time you’re wrong!” I cried. I lifted the first shell. Another red ball!
Ginny sneered. “You’re a real ace, Tim.”
“Wait a second,” I said. I lifted up the other two shells. All three of them had red balls under them!
“This isn’t working at all,” I grumbled. I set the shells down, then lifted them again. More balls! There were now three balls under each shell!
“This isn’t the shell game I know.” I was mystified. “This must be some other trick.”
“It’s way better than your dumb trick,” Ginny said. “Those balls are coming out of nowhere!”
The shells began to dance as balls bubbled out of them like popcorn. Ten balls. Twenty balls.
Little red balls covered the table and bounced to the floor.
“They’re still coming!” Foz cried in amazement. “We’re going to be up to our necks in red balls!”
“How do I stop this thing?” I wondered.
Can I stop it?
21
I snatched up the shells and tossed them into their black sack
. Then I grabbed all the red balls I could and stuffed them in, too.
“Help me, you guys!” I pleaded.
Ginny and Foz fell to their knees, gathering up red balls. We shoved them all into the sack. I pulled the string that closed it and dropped it into the magic kit.
The black sack kept bubbling. Red balls started bursting out of it.
“Stop that!” I yelled. I reached into the magic case and pulled out the first thing I touched. Then I snapped the case shut.
“I don’t really get that trick,” Ginny complained.
“Here’s another trick,” I said. “This one will be better.” In my hand I held a flattened top hat. “Let’s see what this does.”
I punched the top hat open and placed it on my head.
“It’s just a hat,” Foz said, fidgeting. “It’s kind of hot up here. Can we go down to the kitchen and get something to eat?”
“You guys don’t get it,” I said. “This is Amaz-O’s magic case! Okay, so I don’t know how anything works yet. Once we figure it out, we could put on the best magic show ever! I could become a famous magician!”
“And I could be a famous magician’s sister.” Ginny yawned. “Big deal.”
“That hat looks way cool on you,” Foz said. “Now can we get something to eat?”
“I’m hungry, too,” Ginny added.
“Wait!” I cried. I felt something move under the hat. I whipped it off.
“A white dove!” Foz cried.
“That’s a good trick,” Ginny admitted.
I shook the dove off my head. “How do you get it back in the hat?” I asked. Before I had a chance to try, another dove popped out of the hat.
I set the second dove on the floor. “There’s another one!” Foz shouted.
A third dove flew out of the hat and settled on top of an old lamp. Out popped a fourth, and a fifth…
Foz started laughing. “These tricks are totally out of control!”
“This is no joke, Foz!” I snapped.
