Magical Monty

by Johanna Hurwitz

  Chapter 1 Big Brother Monty

  Chapter 2 Monty the Magician

  Chapter 3 The Mother’s Day Gift

  Chapter 4 The Library Project

  Chapter 5 Monty Marches Forth

  Chapter 6 A Quiet Day

  Just a few months ago, Montgomery Gerald Morris (whom everyone called Monty) was a six-year-old entering first grade.

  Now the school year was moving toward its end, and Monty was getting closer to his seventh birthday. When he returned to school in the fall, Monty would be in second grade. It made him feel very grown-up. So much had happened during the past months. He had made several new friends, and he had been awarded an orange belt in karate. He had grown three inches, and he hadn’t had a bad asthma attack in many, many months. The doctor said to his parents, “Maybe, just maybe, he has begun to outgrow his asthma.” These were all wonderful things.

  But the most remarkable thing of all was that without doing anything, Monty had gotten a sibling. He was no longer an only child. Now he was a big brother. Monty had a new baby sister named Amanda Lee Morris. And even before he’d ever seen her, Monty decided that her name was too long for a little baby. So at once he began calling her Mandy. And within hours, his parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends all referred to the new infant that way too. “Mandy. Mandy. Mandy.”

  Mandy had almost no hair. She couldn’t speak. She could wave her hands and kick her feet, and she could cry. It wasn’t very much. Monty thought it would be boring to be a baby.

  It was Mandy’s crying that most puzzled Monty.

  “Why is she so sad?” he asked his parents. It worried him that their new baby was so unhappy. Didn’t she like living with them?

  “She’s not sad. But crying is the only way she can express herself now. So she cries when she’s hungry, and she cries when she’s uncomfortable. You were just the same when you were a newborn,” his father explained.

  “Did I make so much noise?” asked Monty. It was hard to believe that he had ever been this little or this loud.

  “You certainly did,” said his mother, laughing.

  Monty touched Mandy’s arm with the tip of his fingers. She felt softer than the plush teddy bear that he had given her.

  “Put your finger in her hand,” suggested Mr. Morris the first time Monty had touched Mandy.

  Monty looked at his sister’s hands. They were so tiny, with a fingernail at the end of each finger. It didn’t seem as if they could be real.

  Still, Monty did as his father said. Instantly, Mandy made a teeny-tiny fist and held on to Monty’s finger.

  “She’s squeezing me,” said Monty with delight. “I think she likes me.”

  “I’m sure she does,” said his mother.

  It was good to know that his new sister liked him. Monty was sure that he would like Mandy too. But it was disappointing that they couldn’t do anything together. He had thought he would read to her. Now he saw that Mandy was too little to understand even the most simple story. He would have to wait until she got bigger. He couldn’t read to her, and he couldn’t play with her. She was much, much too little.

  For the first week after Mandy was born, Monty’s grandmother stayed to help. She cooked supper each evening and made all of Monty’s favorite meals: spaghetti and meatballs, roast chicken and candied sweet potatoes. One night she made lasagna.

  “You should stay all the time,” Monty told her when he finished his second helping of lasagna.

  “I’ll be back,” his grandmother promised, “but while I’m gone, you can help your mother in my place.”

  “But I can’t cook,” Monty pointed out. The only thing he could do was pour cold cereal into his bowl at breakfast time. Recently he had mastered pouring the milk into the bowl without spilling it all over the table.

  “I’m sure there are other things you can do instead,” said his grandmother.

  At first Monty wondered what he could do. But gradually he found things that helped his mom. He brought her clean diapers and baby wipes when she needed them. He answered the telephone if he was around when she was busy nursing Mandy.

  “I don’t know how I would manage without you,” Mrs. Morris told him.

  That made Monty feel very good, and important too.

  When Monty sat on the sofa, Mrs. Morris let him hold Mandy. She lay in his lap and moved her arms. She smelled of baby lotion. Monty studied her carefully. “Mandy is the only person in our family with blue eyes,” he commented.

  “They may not stay blue,” his mother said.

  “What will happen to them?” asked Monty with concern.

  “Babies’ eyes often change color. You used to have blue eyes when you were first born too.”

  Monty blinked and wondered at the mystery of blue eyes. Most of the time he didn’t think about his eyes at all. It was news to him that his brown eyes had once been blue.

  Just before his grandmother departed for her home, she gave Monty a present. It was a magic set, a box filled with all sorts of things a magician might use. There was a deck of cards, a stuffed rabbit, three colored scarves, a coin and a coin box, a large, flat black square covered with cloth that opened into a top hat, a magician’s wand, and a book of instructions.

  “This should keep you very busy,” his grandmother said. “By the time I come to visit again, you may be able to put on a show for me.”

  “Ohhh, that will be fun!” exclaimed Monty.

  He sat down at once and began studying the book of instructions.

  At school, Monty reported to his class all about the new baby. It had led to quite a discussion. Several other children had babies at their homes too, although none were as young as Mandy. The funniest thing was when their first-grade teacher, Mrs. Meaney, told the class, “I was the baby in my family.”

  Everyone laughed at the idea of a teacher being a baby.

  But then Joey pointed out, “We all used to be babies.”

  That was exactly true. Yet, strangely, not one of the children could remember being a baby. They had all forgotten the time when they couldn’t walk or talk or play or read or draw or write.

  “I remember. I remember,” called out Monty’s classmate Gregory Lawson.

  “What can you remember?” asked Mrs. Meaney with surprise.

  “I can remember not knowing how to read.”

  Everyone laughed again. Gregory had been one of the last students in their class to start reading. In fact, he had begun reading only about two weeks ago. No wonder he could remember not being able to read. He still had trouble with new words, but Mrs. Meaney said the hardest part was behind him.

  That afternoon, for a writing exercise, Mrs. Meaney gave the class an assignment. “Write about your favorite thing about not being a baby anymore,” she told the children.

  Cora Rose wrote, I like going to school.

  Paul wrote, It’s fun to ride my scooter.

  Cindy Green wrote, I like eating lamb chops and not mushy foods like a baby.

  Ilene Kelly wrote, I like riding on my bike.

  Joey wrote, I like playing with my friend Monty.

  When Monty heard what Joey had written, he took his pencil and crossed out the words on his paper. Then he wrote, I like playing with my friend Joey.

  “But what did you write first?” Joey wanted to know when he saw the crossing out on Monty’s paper but was unable to read the words.

  “Never mind,” said Monty. “It’s not important.”

  “It’s important to me,” said Joey.

  Monty thought for a moment. Then he whispered in Joey’s ear. “I like being big enough to be a big brother,” he said softly.

  There had been a magic show at Monty’s school on the very day that Mandy was born. Because his grandmother
had him released from school early to visit his mother and the new baby at the hospital, Monty had missed the show. He had been a little bit disappointed not to see a real magician in action. Maybe that is why his grandmother gave him the magic set.

  Now that he had it, Monty thought he could be a magician himself.

  “It says on the box for age eight and up,” Monty had noticed when his grandmother gave it to him. “I’m not even seven yet.”

  “That’s true,” she had replied. “But you’re a very good reader. You’re as good as an eight-year-old, if not better. I’m sure you can master all these tricks.”

  The box said there were seventy-five tricks for Monty to learn. That was a lot of tricks, and it would keep him very busy. Monty thought the very best thing in the box was the magician’s top hat. He liked putting it on and looking at himself in the mirror. The hat made him look serious and important. Maybe next October he would wear it for Halloween.

  He started reading the book that came with the set. One section was about card and coin tricks. Another section told how to make things appear and disappear. To his surprise, what Monty discovered was that there was no magic at all. Everything was just a way of fooling the audience. The coin never disappeared. It slipped from the magician’s hand into a secret compartment in the coin box. Another trick had the coin slip up the magician’s sleeve. If the magician held his arm carefully, the coin wouldn’t fall out and it seemed to have vanished. The problem was that whenever Monty attempted the trick, the coin fell on the floor. And he never managed to open the secret compartment in the coin box either.

  Monty turned his attention to card tricks. He spread out the cards on the table facedown.

  “Do you want to see a trick?” he asked his mom.

  “Sure,” she replied.

  Monty put the magician’s hat on his head. Then he pointed with his wand to the cards on the table.

  “Pick a card,” he told his mom.

  “Which one?” asked Mrs. Morris.

  “Any one,” said Monty.

  Mrs. Morris studied the cards. Facedown they all looked identical. Mrs. Morris selected a card and showed it to Monty. It was the three of hearts.

  “Now watch this,” said Monty.

  He picked up all the cards and stuck the three of hearts in the middle of the pack. Then he put all the cards down on the table again, facedown. “Pick a card,” said Monty.

  “Again?” asked his mom.

  Monty nodded and grinned. “Yes. That’s part of the trick.”

  Mrs. Morris picked out a card and showed it to Monty. It was the eight of spades.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  Monty didn’t know what. According to his book of instructions, the card his mother picked should have been the three of hearts.

  “Pick another one,” said Monty. Maybe the trick would work on the second try.

  Mrs. Morris selected the ace of diamonds.

  The trick didn’t work.

  “Pick another one,” said Monty. Why wasn’t his trick working?

  Mrs. Morris picked up the jack of spades.

  Once again the trick hadn’t worked.

  “Pick another one,” said Monty, feeling unhappy. Maybe if he were eight years old the card trick would work. Or maybe if his mom picked up enough cards, eventually she would get the three of hearts. Or she might forget which was the first card she had picked. It didn’t seem like a very good trick to Monty.

  Luckily Mandy began to cry in the next room. “I’m afraid I’ll have to stop playing with you for now,” his mother said.

  Monty nodded. He took off his magician’s hat and decided he should reread the instructions for the trick. Hopefully, next time it would actually work.

  Rereading the instructions, Monty saw what he had done wrong. After his mother had picked a card, he should have put it in the middle of the deck but kept it sticking out just a tiny bit. When he spread the cards back over the table, he would have known which was the correct one. Then he — and not his mother — would select the card. Next time he did it, he would do it the right way.

  A little later, Mrs. Morris came into the room holding Mandy. “Do you want to try your trick again?” she asked her son.

  “Sure,” said Monty. He really thought he could do it this time. He put the magician’s hat back on his head.

  Once again he placed all the cards on the table. “Pick a card,” he instructed his mother.

  Monty’s mom studied the cards and picked one up. “Look,” she said to Mandy. “We’ve got a seven of clubs.” She showed the card to the baby. Then she showed it to Monty.

  Monty gathered up all the other cards. He took the seven of clubs from his mother and stuck it into the deck. He left a small corner of the card sticking out. Then he began placing the cards back on the table. “I didn’t use the magic wand last time,” he explained to his mother. He took the wand and tapped the seven of clubs with it three times. Then he picked up the card and turned it over.

  Monty was sure it was the seven of clubs. It was supposed to be the seven of clubs. Without looking at it, he turned the card toward his mom. “What do you see?” he asked her, smiling proudly at his magical skill.

  “The four of diamonds,” said Mrs. Morris.

  “What? Let me see,” said Monty, shocked. He felt like crying. He had tried so hard to get the trick right.

  His mother turned the card so Monty could see it. It was the seven of clubs.

  “I fooled you,” said his mom.

  “You did, you did. I did it! I did it! I did a magic trick!” he shouted triumphantly.

  “Look what else you did,” said his mom. She pointed to the baby.

  Mandy was looking at Monty as if she understood what was going on. She didn’t know about numbers, and she didn’t know about playing cards with hearts and diamonds and clubs and spades. She certainly didn’t know about magic. But she already knew her big brother, and she looked at him with a smile on her face.

  “It’s sort of magic when she smiles,” admitted Monty.

  “It’s sort of magic having two such wonderful children,” said Mrs. Morris, hugging her son the magician.

  The second Sunday in May was Mother’s Day. At school, all the children drew and colored cards to give to their mothers.

  “What about presents?” asked Cora Rose. “Shouldn’t we make presents to give our mothers too?”

  “I have a plan,” said Mrs. Meaney. “You’ll see.”

  This was the plan: each student was given four ice-cream sticks to paint.

  “Where’s the ice cream?” asked Joey.

  “No ice cream today,” said Mrs. Meaney.

  Many of the children frowned. What good were ice-cream sticks without an ice-cream pop attached to them?

  However, while the paint was drying on the sticks, Mrs. Meaney lined up her students and took a picture of each child. She had to take two pictures of Todd because he was picking his nose in the first picture.

  “Your mom won’t like this one,” she said, showing Todd the picture before she deleted it and took a second shot.

  Mrs. Meaney also had to take two pictures of Ilene Kelly because she blinked and her eyes were closed in the first picture.

  “It’s okay,” said Ilene, shrugging. “My mom has seen me with my eyes closed thousands of times.”

  “So she has,” agreed Mrs. Meaney. “But let’s give her a picture of you with your eyes open,” she said, and she took a second shot.

  When all the pictures were taken and printed out, the students pasted them on pieces of cardboard, and the four ice-cream sticks surrounded the cardboard, to form a frame. So ice-cream sticks without ice cream had a purpose after all.

  Monty studied his picture. It showed him smiling with his two top teeth missing. “I look a little bit like our baby,” he told Mrs. Meaney. “She doesn’t have any teeth either.”

  So now Monty and all his classmates had presents to give to their mothers on Mother’s Day. But Monty really w
ished that he could give his mother something more. The picture was all right. It showed him just the way he looked. But his mother could see him all the time. A present should be something different, something that she wouldn’t be able to see all the time.

  He discussed this with Joey.

  “I want to give my mom something besides the present we made at school,” he said. “Don’t you want to do that too?”

  “Nah,” said Joey. “Your mom won’t expect you to give her two presents. One is enough.”

  He discussed this with the twins Ilene and Arlene Kelly. Arlene had a photo in an ice-cream-stick frame, just like her sister, who was in Monty’s class. It seemed each section of the first grade made the same present.

  “I wonder who ate all that ice cream,” said Arlene.

  “Nobody, dummy,” said her sister. “They sell sticks without ice cream.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Arlene.

  “Because the sticks were all clean when we got them.”

  “Well, somebody could have washed them,” protested Arlene. “Or maybe they just licked them clean.”

  “Never mind,” said Monty. “I want to give my mom something besides the picture. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Give her some ice cream to go with the sticks,” said Ilene, laughing.

  Arlene started laughing too. They both thought it was a good joke. But Monty was serious. He wanted to give his mom a real Mother’s Day present.

  On TV he saw ads for jewelry for Mother’s Day, but he knew he would never have enough money to buy any jewelry. Then he heard an advertisement for ordering flowers by telephone. Flowers wouldn’t cost as much as jewelry, he thought. His mom loved flowers. That’s what he would get her!

  Monty memorized the number to call. He counted out his money in his bank. He had four dollars and seventy-three cents. That should be enough, he thought. The next afternoon, while Mrs. Morris was taking care of Mandy, Monty picked up the telephone in the kitchen and dialed the number.