Leila held her breath. “If I am, does it mean I’m psychic?”
Carter blinked. At the same time, they both whispered, “The monkey.”
Together, they knelt cautiously in the grass and peered through the diamond-shaped gaps between the wood slats beneath the gazebo. A small shape cowered at the far side. Soft chittering sounds echoed out of the dim space.
“The little thief is back!” Carter said.
“Let’s catch him before he tries to steal my dad’s ledger again!” Leila unraveled the string from her fingers and quickly improvised a small harness using simple knots that wouldn’t harm him. She made loops for his neck and torso and arms.
They treaded softly around the edge of the structure. But as they neared the other side, a blur of fur dashed out and away. The monkey raced across the grass and the street before disappearing behind the barbershop on the far corner.
“Aw, pickles,” Leila cried out.
Someone down the street shrieked.
“Crud,” said Carter, pulling shortbread crumbs from his pocket. “Next time I’ll be better prepared.”
“If there is a next time,” Leila answered with a sigh. “Should we go after it?”
“Naw. I have a feeling he’ll be back.”
Bursting through the door of the magic shop, Leila called out, “Dad! Dad! You’ll never guess who we saw outside!”
Mr. Vernon looked up from a book at the counter and raised an eyebrow. “Well, can I at least try?” Leila and Carter groaned as Vernon held his forefingers to his temples and closed his eyes. “Was it the ghost of Abraham Lincoln?” They shook their heads. “Babe the Blue Ox?” Nope. “Johnny Appleseed?” Uh-uh. “Oh, I know: Oberon, King of the Fairies!”
Carter blurted out, “It was Bosso’s monkey!”
Leila nodded. “He was hiding underneath the gazebo and ran off when we tried to catch him.”
Mr. Vernon sighed. “We’d better go around and close all the windows. I’ll put in a call to animal control. Can’t have him disrupting our special dinner tonight.”
“Animal control?” Carter echoed. “What will they do with him?”
“They’ll catch him and lock him up,” said Mr. Vernon. “Just like Bosso.”
Carter flinched. “Is there such a thing as monkey jail?”
(Dear friends, you’ll be happy to know that there is no such thing as monkey jail… at least not in Mineral Wells.)
“It might be safer for him to be in a cage than on the street,” Vernon pondered out loud.
“A cage!” Leila cried. “That’s terrible!”
“He just wants a home,” Carter whispered.
Leila perked up. “Maybe we could adopt him.”
Mr. Vernon chuckled. “Let’s take one thing at a time. How about you two clean up the house a bit? You can even decorate the dining room upstairs for our guest of honor.” He grabbed a black top hat off a stand, then tossed it to Leila. “Use pieces from the shop if you want. It’s always nice to remember that we’re surrounded by magic here.”
Leila reached inside the hat and pulled out a never-ending multicolored scarf. Red and green and yellow and blue and purple and orange. Her father was obviously trying to distract them from the idea of the monkey running scared outside. Classic misdirection, Leila thought.
“Hurry now!” Mr. Vernon added, snapping his fingers excitedly. “A good magician should never be caught unprepared when the audience arrives!”
EIGHT
As soon as Theo and Ridley arrived at the shop, Leila put them to work. “We’re arranging a Magic Misfits centerpiece for the dinner table.” Leila was dressed in her straitjacket, though she’d left the sleeves untied so that she could carry items from the shop.
Ridley looked skeptical. “And why would we want to do that?”
“In honor of two generations of magic clubs.” Carter fanned out his hands like a showman.
Leila added, “Plus, seeing how great our magic club is might get Dad and Sandra talking about the old Emerald Ring.”
Glancing around Vernon’s Magic Shop made Leila suddenly nostalgic for the time she’d first arrived from Mother Margaret’s Home. Walking through that front door, as the little bell sounded over her head, Leila felt like she’d stepped into a wonderland she’d only read about in books. The high-ceilinged room contained every color of the rainbow. The windowpanes were painted bright purple and green. The rugs that covered the rickety wood floor swirled with ochre stripes and red dots and yellow lightning bolts. The glass jars filled with toys and tricks reflected sunlight, casting beams into the far corners of the room, catching the glitter embedded in the plaster walls. For a moment, on that first day, Leila had been certain that it was a dream she’d wake up from; in a way, as time passed, she had.
Friends, you might already understand that it’s impossible to live surrounded by such magic without it eventually feeling somewhat normal. Thankfully, her fathers were able to remind her how special she was simply by taking her into their lives and giving her the attention and love she deserved. The magic in the shop was the icing on an already delicious cake.
The quartet gathered supplies from the shop’s hidden nooks and secret drawers. Then they took the small service elevator upstairs to the dining room. Leila always giggled when she rode the elevator. How many people had an actual elevator inside their home?
Leila laid the black top hat from the shop on its side in the middle of the long wooden table. The other Misfits surrounded the hat with trick wands, playing cards, knotted ropes, feather flowers, whoopee cushions, tiny cups and foam balls, balloon animals, miniature human skulls made from clear plastic, rainbow-colored glass vials, and a plush green bird that looked like Presto. It appeared as if everything was spilling from the top hat like a magical horn of plenty. Leila placed her favorite candlesticks—cast iron and shaped like little witch boots—on either end and then lit the tips of the tall white tapers. The light from the setting sun came through the gauzy curtains, and it—along with the glow from the candles—gave the dining room an aura of enchantment.
“Perfecto!” said Leila. “This’ll get them talking.”
When Poppa returned home from the resort, he brought Sandra Santos with him. Her white dress was festooned with giant red polka dots, and she’d pulled her hair up into a tight bun on top of her head. The same white star-shaped earrings dangled from her petite earlobes. According to fashion magazines, every fabulous woman had one or two signature accessories; the stars were Sandra’s. She greeted the Misfits with air-kisses. “Oh my!” she said when she saw the table spread. “Fabulous!”
Carter set the needle down on the record player on the sideboard, and playful jazz music danced around the room.
“The Magic Misfits welcome you to dinner!” said Leila with a little bow.
“The best part is how all of this will magically return to the shop at the end of the night!” said the Other Mr. Vernon.
Carter winked. “You won’t even see it happen.”
Leila’s poppa brought out plates filled with steaming lobster mac and cheese, fried green tomatoes, Parmesan potatoes, and spaghetti squash with marinara. Everyone gathered at the table, their mouths watering as the Other Mr. Vernon filled crystal glasses with fresh-made lemonade that glowed in the candlelight.
“This all looks so good!” said Sandra.
“The best,” said Theo. “As usual.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vernons!” Ridley cried out.
“Too bad Olly and Izzy had to miss it,” said Leila.
“Yeah,” said Ridley, “too bad.”
“Dig in while it’s hot,” Leila’s poppa instructed.
The sounds of silverware clacking against plates sounded out like chimes, until Sandra interrupted, “Wait!” and raised her glass. “First, a toast! To old friends!”
Mr. Vernon smiled, his thin black mustache decorating his top lip. “To old friends,” he echoed. They all clinked glasses, took quick swigs, then got back to the task at hand—
filling their bellies with delicious grub.
“Oh, how I adored this old building as a child,” Sandra mentioned as the Other Mr. Vernon brought out a luscious key lime pie. “Remember the magic shows we put on for passersby? Or our endless games of hide-and-seek?”
“Lyle would always win,” Mr. Vernon said with a smile. “He was quite good at vanishing.” Leila noticed Carter beam at the thought of his father.
The Other Mr. Vernon cut everyone a piece of the pie and passed them around as Sandra went on, “Best of all, we’d stay up late, telling secrets and making up stories, daring one another to guess which were true and which were lies.”
“Let’s play!” said Leila, hoping to learn more about her secretive dad.
Sandra glanced at Mr. Vernon as if to silently ask whether it was okay. He shrugged and then nodded. “Only if you go first, Leila,” he said.
Leila thought for a moment and then stood. “When I first came to live in Mineral Wells, I was so amazed by my dads and their shop and my new home I was certain I’d wake up from the best dream ever.”
“Well, that’s obviously true,” Ridley blurted out. “You’ve told me that same line almost every week since we met.” Leila shrugged and chuckled. “My turn! I once won a soapbox derby contest by decorating my chair as a giant shark.”
“That never happened,” said Theo. “Or else we would have heard of it already.”
Ridley frowned. “It’ll happen one day. And you guys will help me put it all together.”
“Let us invite Sandra to go next,” said Theo.
“Surely!” Sandra cleared her throat. “When I was going through some of my mother’s things in our old house, I discovered that she’d kept some drawings I’d done when I was young. I’d copied images from some playing cards that I really loved. I never knew she’d paid close attention to my interests.… She was always working, you see.… Finding the drawings again…” She paused, as if collecting herself. Leila wanted to reach out and squeeze the woman’s hand. “I just miss my mother, I guess.”
“That is all true,” said Mr. Vernon with a sad smile.
Sandra perked up, shaking off her sudden melancholy as if it were merely a slight coating of pixie dust. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll go,” volunteered the Other Mr. Vernon. “Before it was a magic shop, this building was a jazz club.”
“Totally false,” Leila said.
“Actually, that’s quite true,” Mr. Vernon said.
“Dad, how could you not tell me?” Leila asked, flustered.
“I suppose it never came up.”
“Now you go, Dad!”
“Me?” asked Mr. Vernon. “Why me?”
“Why not?” asked Carter, throwing a sly look to Leila.
Mr. Vernon tossed his hands in the air, giving up. “Okay, then! Secrets and stories. Truth and lies. Which will it be? Let… us… see…” He leaned forward and stared intensely at each of his guests. “Got one. As you all know, a long time ago, I lived in this very apartment with my parents. Downstairs, my father established a little store that he called Vernon’s Magic Shop. You see, my father was the original Purveyor of the Impossible. I loved watching him do magic tricks for the customers. I was most impressed when he’d transform one item into another right before their eyes. I begged him to teach me. But he refused, insisting that the best way to learn a trick was by figuring it out for myself.”
Mr. Vernon picked up the green bird plush that looked like Presto from the centerpiece and held it in his palm. “And so I did. One day, I decided to show my father what I had taught myself. I took his coffee mug, still holding some coffee, and placed it on a clean plate. Then I dropped a top hat on top of it, like so…” Mr. Vernon placed the stuffed animal on the table, and placed the centerpiece top hat over it.
“My father waited patiently as I waved my hand around the hat, like this, and said, ‘Abracadabra!’ Then I lifted the hat from the counter. And the coffee mug was no longer there—instead, a snow globe with a wintry scene of Mineral Wells sat in its place. My father was so proud. I remember clearly how he beamed at my self-earned ability. Little did he know, I broke his mug during the trick, which is why he never saw the mug again. But, I’ve gotten quite a bit better since then…”
Mr. Vernon whipped the hat off the plate and the entire table yelped.
Instead of the plush bird, Presto the very real parrot sat there and squawked at them. She bounced up and down, as if impressed with herself. Mr. Vernon set the hat back into the center of the table and held his finger out to the bird. The parrot stepped on, and he brought her up to his shoulder. After a fluttering of wings, she perched there.
“Now tell me, kids,” said Mr. Vernon, “was that story the truth? Or am I lying?”
Carter knocked on the table, using Morse code to answer:
Ridley burst into applause. “Very good, Carter!”
“It was the truth, Dad!” Leila beamed. “The absolute truth!”
Mr. Vernon bowed his head, and the whole group broke into a round of applause. Leila felt giddy. Having Sandra here was actually working; her dad had opened up about his past. Hopefully, this was only the beginning.
“How did you do that, Mr. Vernon?” asked Theo. “Presto was in her cage downstairs when we came in.”
“I know how he did it!” Carter said. “First you need a mechanism—”
“Indocilis privata loqui,” Mr. Vernon interrupted, holding a finger to his lips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Leila. “Are you trying to tell us some sort of new code?”
Her dad motioned like he was zipping his lips, and then, with an invisible key, he pretended to lock them up tight.
The Other Mr. Vernon shook his head. “What have I told you about no animals or speaking Latin at the dinner table, Dante?”
“Latin?” Leila echoed. “Since when do you know Latin?”
But Mr. Vernon pretended he no longer heard her. “Can’t we make an exception?” he asked the Other Mr. Vernon. “My old friend is here to visit.”
Sandra snickered. “You haven’t changed one bit, Dante.”
“You keep saying that. But haven’t you noticed this?” Mr. Vernon ran his fingers through his thick and curly hair. “Completely white now.”
“Oh, stop,” said the Other Mr. Vernon. “We’re still young.”
“No. We’re still young,” Carter said with a playful smile. “Young and full of vinegar!” Theo and Ridley giggled.
“It’s all a state of mind.” Sandra nodded. “Mm-mm, this pie! It makes me feel like I’m back in Florida in my old shop on the beach. People used to wander in for readings. They’d stay for hours, chatting with me and drinking tea. That was one of my favorite times. Sometimes I wish life could still be as simple as that.”
“It can be if you want it,” said Mr. Vernon.
“Do you still do readings?” asked Theo.
“All the time! Would you like me to do some for you?” The kids clamored their approval. “I’m not sure if I’ll compare to Dante’s little story, but I’ll try.” Sandra clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and squinted. The room went silent as Sandra sat with her eyes closed for about ten seconds. Then she whispered, “Running, running, running… The smell of smoke, the rush of a train… There are many trains.… More than I can count… Counting… The shell game… A feeling of shame… followed by… escape!” She straightened up and then said in a normal voice, “Does that mean anything to you, Carter?”
Carter’s eyes went wide. He glanced around the table at his friends. Their mouths were open, all of them dumbstruck. “Yeah, it does. Before I came to live with the Vernons, I… I traveled by train. A lot. And my uncle used to scam folks out of their cash with that horrible shell game.”
Sandra thought for a moment, then nodded. “That time is over for you. Forever.”
Carter’s eyes grew even wider as relief washed over him. “Good to know,” he said, smiling.
“What a
bout me?” Ridley said.
Sandra rubbed her temples as she turned toward Ridley. Immediately, Sandra sneezed into her napkin. “Stuffy noses and watery eyes,” she whispered. “Does that mean anything to you?”
Ridley shrugged. “My parents have allergies. It’s why I have to keep my pet rabbit here at the magic shop.” She looked at Mr. Vernon and smiled. “Thanks again for letting me.”
“Anytime,” he answered.
Sandra said, “You will never suffer from them in the same way your parents do.”
“Thank goodness!” Ridley threw her hands into the air. “One less thing to worry about!” Leila could tell her friend was joking, but Sandra smiled, as if Ridley’s response was a success.
Next, Sandra’s eyes fell upon Theo. “I hear many voices,” she whispered. “A house filled to the brim with voices…”
Theo looked confused. “My brothers and sisters are all coming home to visit this summer. In just a few weeks. My mom and dad are really looking forward to it.”
“They are… but you’re not,” said Sandra, pointing at him.
Theo flushed. “Well, I am, but sometimes when they’re all together, I feel a little bit…”
“Lost,” Sandra said. Theo nodded.
“Music,” she added. “I hear music too.”
“I also play the violin,” Theo confirmed.
“That will help you through any hard times that come your way. Stick with it.”
“Oh, I will. My father is making me.” Theo grinned as everyone laughed.
When Sandra finally looked at Leila, Leila felt dizzy. But Sandra squinted, and Leila made herself smile wider than usual. She wanted to hear only good things. “Footsteps. A knocking at a door. There is no answer.” Thank goodness, Leila thought. That didn’t mean anything to her. The room was unbearably quiet. “A gift,” Sandra added, almost as an afterthought. “A key…” Leila’s heart jumped into her throat. “Does this make sense?”
The Magic Misfits: The Second Story Page 5
