“Sure, until I helped the Nazis run away.”
He waved her off. “Come on, that wasn’t your fault. And you can’t let one little thing like a Nazi escape ruin the rest of the evening. You got all of us to actually work together for once. And wasn’t that show your dream or something like that?”
She nodded.
“Okay, then you should feel proud and happy. Most people never see their dreams come true. Like me.” He pointed at his eye patch. “I’ll never have depth perception. But you? You’re just starting. Next time you use that Vanishing Box, it’s going to blow people away.”
It was amazing how much nicer Eric was when he wasn’t around people and hadn’t had his brain filled with facts and information. She smiled.
“Yeah, too bad I broke the Vanishing Box this morning.”
“You what?”
“When I woke up, I was so frustrated that I went out and kicked it over and it broke.”
“No, you didn’t,” he said, and his natural jerkiness began to reemerge.
“Yes, I did,” she said.
“There’s no way,” he said. “There is no way you, by yourself, kicked the Vanishing Box and knocked it over. It takes all of us guys to move that thing.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I’m stronger than I look.”
“You probably are, but that doesn’t change science,” he said. “There’s almost two hundred pounds of sandbags in the bottom of that thing to keep it steady. You’d have to drive a car into it to knock it over.”
Now she was puzzled, too. “Well, it knocked over. Like a house of cards.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe somebody unloaded the sandbags after you guys left it at my house.”
“Doubtful. I was the last one to leave it behind, and nobody took any out.”
“Oh, I know!” She slapped her knee. “They were unloaded at the rec hall. Remember, ’cause Gil found Houdini hiding in them?”
“No, we didn’t unload them there, either. And besides, if they were out at the rec hall, then why did it take all of us to get the box loaded into Carl’s dad’s truck? It was as heavy as ever when we carried it off the stage. Those must have been some other sandbags.”
“Why would there be sandbags laying around in the rec hall?”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, but if the sandbags weren’t in the bottom of the box, then why was it so heavy when we carried it out?”
They both came to the same conclusion at the same time.
“Felix!” they yelled together.
“He was hiding in the bottom,” Max said.
“But how did he get down there?”
“He designed the box,” Max said as waves of revelation crashed into her brain. “This was his trick. That’s why he had us get the material from different places, so we wouldn’t piece his plan together. It’s also why he kept me as far away from the blueprint as possible. Because—”
“Because it takes a magician to see a trick before it happens,” Eric said, much to her surprise.
“Yeah,” she said. “The way he had you guys make the floor, it must have been easy to pop it open so he could crawl underneath.”
“It opened in the middle,” he said with a groan. “It popped open so you could get the sandbags in there. It was a last-minute change he told Shoji to make. Wasn’t even on the blueprint.”
“Wow. He is good.”
“How could we be so stupid?” Eric yelled. The lunch bell rang.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But it doesn’t much matter anymore, does it? He’s out and probably halfway to Mexico by now.”
Eric nodded. “Or, maybe he’s not.”
“Huh?”
“What if he’s staked out, hiding somewhere before he makes his move.”
“Like where?” she asked.
“Creepiest place on earth. The place I wouldn’t be surprised to find a Nazi.” He grinned. “What if he’s in your storm cellar?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
He’s not down there,” Max said. “There’s no way.” The Gremlins stood staring at the storm cellar door from five feet away. Not one of them felt compelled to move an inch closer.
“He might be down there,” Shoji said. “You don’t know.”
“It seems like a real easy way to get caught,” Carl said.
“But it is the absolute last place you’d look, you can’t deny that,” Eric said.
“Because it’s a dumb place to hide,” Shoji said.
“Which is why it’s brilliant,” Eric said. “Think about how idiotic the rest of the plan sounds. Digging a tunnel out of a prison camp? Using a kid magician as a cover? Hiding in the bottom of a box that’s going to be carried out, right underneath the noses of the guards at the gate? Every single part of this is stupid, and yet it’s so stupid, it’s smart. Kind of like Carl.”
“Hey!” Carl said, then he thought about it. “Oh, wait, that was a compliment, huh?”
“We need to tell somebody,” Lola said. “We should tell your dad, Max. Let him check the storm cellar.”
“He’s already mad at me about this whole thing,” Max said. “I’m not going to tell him that I helped walk a prisoner through the gates without being able to hand him the prisoner in handcuffs.”
“Do we even have handcuffs?” Shoji said.
“I’ve got rope,” Carl said.
“See? Carl has rope. We’re fine,” Max said. “Besides, he’s not down there.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lola said.
“I hope you’re wrong,” Eric said. “I want to catch a Nazi. How many people can say they did that?”
They all stood still and stared at the dangling cinder block.
“So, what do we do? Do we open it or not?” Max asked.
“I’ll open it,” Carl said and approached the block. He put his hands on it and then hesitated. “I mean, if y’all want me to.”
Max took a deep breath. “Yeah, do it.”
He started to pull down on the block.
“No, wait!” Shoji yelled. “That’s a really dumb idea.”
“Thank you!” Lola said.
“If Felix is in there, we don’t want our biggest guy occupied with the block. Me and Eric should open it, and Carl should get ready to pounce on him if he comes running out.”
“Why do I try with you guys?” Lola asked.
“Hey, I don’t want to be stuck on the block, either,” Eric said. “I can’t say I helped nab him if I didn’t help nab him. Max should do it, it’s her storm cellar.”
“No,” Max said. “I need to be the first one in. Because it is my storm cellar.”
“Oh my gosh, I’ll do it,” Lola said and pushed Carl away.
The Gremlins poised themselves as she opened the door, incredibly slowly because she was the tiniest of their number.
The door creaked open and no Nazis came running out, much to Eric’s disappointment. Once she counted to ten, just to make sure Felix wasn’t running behind in his escape plan, Max stepped inside, and she and the Gremlins descended into the pit.
Since Major Larousse had to keep his flashlight at the ready for the quest to find the Nazis, they had to use Shoji’s little red flashlight, which didn’t illuminate nearly as well. Still, as they got down to the bottom of the stairs, it became more and more apparent that there was nobody in the cellar.
“Man,” Eric said. “That’s sad.”
“Gosh, you are so dumb,” Lola said.
Shoji shone the flashlight around the room. “Well, it’s too bad for Felix that he didn’t hide down here. He could probably sleep on the bench. It looks comfortable.”
Max glanced over at the bench he was shining his light onto. “Hey, where is Grandma Schauder’s Hummel box?”
She could almost hear the sound of the Gremlins blinking in confusion. She took the flashlight from Shoji. “It was on the bench. My grandmother’s Hummel. Where did it . . . oh, no.” She found the box resting in a puddle of water that had already soaked through the bot
tom half of the cardboard. She ran over and tried to pick it up out of the water.
The bottom of the box ripped open, and the whole collection of little German yodelers tumbled out and smashed to the ground. Once the sound of broken figurines stopped echoing around the room, she dropped the tattered remains of the box and hung her head. “This is my life. I might as well just go to bed until the war is over.”
Lola ran over and hugged her. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Maybe we can buy you some more of those little things. Are they expensive?”
“I don’t know,” Max said as she patted Lola on the back three times, which in Brooklyn is a universal signal that a hug has been fully appreciated and should thus be brought to a conclusion. Sadly, this was not the code in Texas, and so Lola continued hugging Max. This, coupled with the sight of the scattered pieces of porcelain, sent Max over an edge. She pushed Lola away.
“When I figure out which one of you put this box in the water, I’m going to punch you in the face,” she said.
“Apologies, fräulein,” a voice said from the top of the stairs.
Felix sat three steps down from the opening, a mischievous smile ornamenting his face. He stood and descended the stairs, and met with the absolute silence of their dumbfounded mouths. He walked over to Max and put his hand on her shoulder. “I have indeed made quite the mess for you, haven’t I?”
Max stared into his blue eyes, still unable to find the words she wanted to say to him. Therefore, she glanced at Carl and said a word to him. “Now!”
Carl, Eric, and Shoji ran forward and tackled Felix. Eric held his arms behind his back, Shoji wrapped himself around Felix’s legs, and Carl put him in a headlock, but Felix didn’t struggle. He didn’t put up any sort of a fight as they tied his hands and feet and dragged him over to the wall. Instead, through it all, he maintained his infuriating smile.
It wasn’t very ladylike, nor was it much like a magician, and it certainly wasn’t what her mother would do, but in spite of these facts, Max took three steps forward and punched him in the mouth with the full force of her body behind the blow. It was the first punch she’d ever thrown, but it was a good one. It split his lip open and blood spewed down his chin. Plus, because he was against the wall, it slammed his head into the concrete. All in all, it was a very satisfying blow. Max could now see why men like Joe Louis turned this sort of thing into a career. Maybe if being a magician didn’t pan out the way she hoped, she would explore that option.
“Oh, come on!” Lola yelled and ran forward to try and stop the bleeding. She grabbed the first thing she could find, which was a disgusting, water-soaked piece of cardboard, and held it to Felix’s lip.
“There is a handkerchief in my pocket,” Felix said.
Lola pulled out the handkerchief and used it to stop the bleeding. “Why did you do that?” she asked Max.
“Just returning the favor,” Max said. “Now we’re almost even.”
Felix chuckled. “I will not argue that I deserved that,” he said through the handkerchief Lola held to his mouth. “As I said before, apologies.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, apologies, schmapologies,” Max said. “I’m done playing your game, Felix. I’m going to go and get my dad so he can take you back to the camp. You two-faced, dirty Nazi.” She nodded to the boys. “Can you three hold him until I get back?”
“Oh, yeah, we got him,” Eric said with glee. “We got ourselves a Nazi!”
“Okay,” Max said and started up the stairs.
“Turning me in now without hearing what I have to say would be an incredible mistake,” Felix called to her.
She stopped at the fourth step.
She knew she shouldn’t listen to him. After all, listening to him had been the source of every single trouble she was in at that exact moment. Including the broken Hummel dolls. It was all a direct result of misplaced trust.
But a magician always makes sure they know what cards are still in the deck.
“Why would it be a mistake?” she asked.
“Because then the eleven other men who escaped with me last night will never be caught, and your father will be forever known as the man who let the Nazis get away.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Max hated Felix. She finally realized that as she came back down the stairs, now completely unable to do what she knew she should. All because he was so annoyingly good at making his point seem like the only point worth making. She walked over and stood in front of him. “They’re going to get away anyway,” she said, trying more to convince herself that his statement was invalid than anyone else. “Or they won’t. Listening to you won’t change a thing.”
“Then what would it hurt to give me five minutes of your time?”
Lola shook her head. As the conscience of the group, she already had twenty-seven different reasons why they should not listen to the escaped Nazi hiding in the storm cellar, the first four simply being the words “escaped,” “Nazi,” “hiding,” and “storm cellar.” The other twenty-three reasons were far more articulate, but none nearly as convincing as those first four.
As a magician, Max was accustomed to ignoring the voice of conscience in order to get a job done. She dropped down to rest on her heels in front of Felix. “Okay, I’m listening.”
He had a pleasantly surprised look in his eyes. He pulled his head away from the bloody handkerchief and licked his lip. The bleeding was barely a trickle at this point, and he didn’t seem to mind it.
“The prisoners have a very well-crafted plan to make their way to Mexico, and from there find passage back to Europe and the war,” he said. “This plan is flawless, as flawless as a Herrmann magic trick. I know this because I devised it.”
Max gritted her teeth. “And I was just part of that plan, wasn’t I?”
“More than you know, fräulein. You are the single most important part of the plan.”
“You’re not making me want to keep listening,” Max said and stood.
“No, no, you don’t understand,” he said. “The plan that the prisoners received is designed to succeed, as far as they know. But what they do not know is that there is a servante designed to make sure they fail and are returned to the camp.”
“A servante?” Shoji asked. “What’s he talking about?”
“It’s the secret device that a magician uses to accomplish his tricks, like a hidden shelf or a pocket,” Max said. “It’s one of the oldest tricks in magic.”
Felix nodded. “I made the plan so that it will either succeed beautifully or fail royally, depending on whether or not the servante is in place.”
“Lola!” a voice called from the top of the stairs.
The Gremlins shared a terrified look, and Carl and Shoji grabbed Felix and dragged him over into the shadows.
“Yes, Mamaw?” Lola yelled up.
“It’s time to go,” her grandmother said.
Lola pulled Max over to the corner to have a hurried, whispered conversation. “You can’t keep listening to him,” Lola said. “You can’t give him what he wants. You just can’t.”
“I know,” Max said. “I know, okay? I’m going to get my dad. I just, if I can get him to actually tell me the plan, then maybe this whole thing will go away.”
“Even if he doesn’t tell you,” Lola said, “you have to turn him in. They can get him to talk in the prison. But helping him? I’m pretty sure that’s treason or something.”
“Or something,” Max said.
Lola grabbed Max’s hand and linked their pinkies together. “Promise me you will turn him over to your dad right away. Okay?”
Max hadn’t done a pinky bargain since she was four, but she nodded anyway. “Okay. I promise, I’ll go up right away and tell him.”
“I get to rip your pinkie off if you don’t,” Lola said.
Max was fairly certain that Lola would actually do that very act, so she double-checked her intentions and then agreed again.
“Lola!” her grandmother up above yelled again.
“I’m coming!” Lola shouted as she rushed up the stairs. Just before she reached the top, she turned and held her pinkie out at Max. Max nodded again. Lola left, and her grandmother scolded her all the way until their voices disappeared.
Max returned to Felix, who was now sitting in a puddle, far less amused with things than before. She squatted in front of him. “Okay, so what’s the servante in your plan?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “The servante is you. THE AMAZING MAX.”
“You’re crazy,” she said. She stood back up. “I’m going to get my dad.” She went back to the stairs.
“You will capture four today,” he yelled after her. “Two on Friday, three on Saturday, and the final two on Sunday. If they aren’t captured in that order, exactly as I’ve planned, they will never be captured.”
“And what about you? When do you go back to the camp?”
“Monday,” he said. “Once the others are safely returned, you can reveal my location and I will be taken.”
“Or I can just hand you over to my dad right now, and you’ll tell him the plan and go back to your hut today.”
Felix shook his head. “I will tell him nothing. You either do this my way, or you never see the other prisoners again.”
“This is dumb,” Eric said as he let go of Felix’s arm. “Why even plan the escape if you’re just going to help get everybody captured again? It doesn’t make sense.”
Felix looked in Max’s eyes. “Why would I do this?”
She scrunched her forehead. “How should I—” Her jaw dropped. “For Josephine?”
He nodded.
“Seriously? You’re doing all of this just so you can mail a letter?”
“No,” he said. “So that I can make a telephone call.”
Max had heard enough. She told the boys to make sure Felix stayed where he was and she went up to tell Major Larousse that there was a Nazi in the cellar and a plan he needed to foil. There was absolutely nothing more that Felix could say to convince her to change her course of action. She was prepared for all of his arguments.
She was not, however, prepared for the conversation her parents were having in the kitchen. She probably wouldn’t have even known about it if not for her long-standing habit of eavesdropping on them before she entered any room. It had never failed her before.
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