“What? Stop it, Leon,” Emery said, already in enough pain without Leon adding to it. “What’s that gotta do with the elevator and the fourteenth floor?”
“If there’s no thirteenth floor, then the fourteenth floor is really the thirteenth floor,” Philip explained, not entirely certain he was making sense.
Emery thought a minute. “You mean, Leon, you’re giving me your trissaphobium, and because I was on the fourteenth floor, which is really the thirteenth floor, I had this tooth bad luck?”
“It’s true. It’s true,” Leon moaned. “I’m just bad luck. Full of bad luck no matter what I do. And now I’m giving it to you.”
Emery’s mother walked in.
“Time to change your cotton, Emery.”
“Uh, we’ll wait outside,” Philip said. “Come on, Leon.”
“What am I gonna do?” Leon asked sadly when he and Philip were outside in the hallway.
Philip, though, was thinking about his own next trip to the dentist. He would have to do something to change dentists or else he might end up like Emery one day soon—in bed and toothless with a bloody mouth.
“You can come back in,” Mrs. Wyatt called. “Did your mother mention to you, Philip?”
“Mention what?”
“This has been a week . . . well, never mind that. Your mom and dad and Mr. Wyatt and I are going out tomorrow night. I’m dropping the babies at my sister’s overnight, and we’re going to get a babysitter for the three of you.”
Philip and Emery exchanged a glance. A Friday night alone with Leon filled their minds.
Mrs. Wyatt left the room.
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Leon said, following her.
Philip turned back to Emery and asked, “Did you notice whether the elevator had a button for thirteen or did it just go twelve—fourteen?”
“No. I don’t know. Wait. Get the cordless phone from my mother’s bedroom. I can call my father and ask him.”
CRASH!
“Leon!” came a cry from Emery’s mother.
A moment later Leon entered the bedroom, rubbing his head.
“I fell,” he said.
Mrs. Wyatt stuck her head into the bedroom. She stared at Leon’s sneakers.
“Leon, where are your shoelaces?”
“Uh, they fell out.”
“Fell out! That’s impossible.”
A baby began to cry in the distance.
“Ohhhh,” Mrs. Wyatt moaned. “Get some shoelaces, Leon, before you trip and fall down the stairs—like you just already almost did. I’m coming, Amy. Mommy’s coming.” And she left the room.
Emery leaned over and looked at Leon’s shoes.
“Why don’t you have shoelaces, Leon?”
Leon explained about his unlucky shoelaces. “Better check yours,” he concluded.
Emery fell back against his pillow. “Get the phone, Philip.”
Philip got the phone and handed it to Emery.
Emery punched in the number and waited.
“Hi, Dad. Yeah, I’m in bed. No, I’m okay. I have a question. Does the elevator where you work have a button that says the thirteenth floor?”
Emery listened and Philip could see the alarm rise in his friend’s eyes.
“Okay, see you tonight.”
Emery ended the call, looked at Philip, and shook his head.
“Twelve to fourteen.”
“So fourteen is really thirteen.”
“I knew it,” Leon cried dismally. “I told you. I knew it.”
The bedroom grew silent as Philip thought with dread about the number thirteen and what Leon was doing to them to make it the unluckiest number in the world ever.
Chapter Ten
The next morning Philip and Emery were having breakfast in Emery’s kitchen. Leon was having his cereal in the living room, away from the dangerous thirteen tiles on the kitchen floor.
“Maybe we shouldn’t eat in here either,” said Emery, looking suspiciously over the floor.
“There really aren’t thirteen tiles, you know,” Philip said disdainfully.
Emery looked puzzled. “There are. I counted them.”
Philip shook his head. “Look at the last row. It’s not really a whole tile. Some of it’s cut off.”
Emery got out of his chair and walked to the kitchen wall. He came back to the table.
“Not much is cut off,” he said.
“Any cut off makes it not thirteen. It’s like twelve and nine-tenths. But don’t tell Leon.”
“No, let him eat out there. Good idea.” Emery spooned some cereal into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “You think we’re really catching Leon’s trissaphobium?”
“Trissaphobi-A.” Philip shrugged. “I only know I don’t want to go to the dentist on the thirteenth floor anymore.”
Emery tapped his spoon thoughtfully on the side of his cereal bowl.
Philip stared at him. “What?”
“If we’re getting Leon’s disease, we need some way to cancel the bad luck.”
“Yeah, well the bad luck trissaphobia comes from Leon, so need a way to cancel him,” said Philip.
“You remember some of those wild good luck things we looked up?”
“On the computer? Yeah. Hey, you think maybe if we make Leon do some of the good luck superstitions, the real hard ones, he might believe his trissaphobia went away? If he does, it might keep it away from us.”
“And just in case, we can do some of the good luck superstitions, too, me and you, for ourselves—the easier ones. That should help.”
Philip didn’t argue. “Let’s sneak upstairs while Leon’s busy and get the list. You still got it?”
Emery nodded. He quietly took Philip’s cereal bowl and placed it along with his own in the sink. Together the boys crept silently up the stairs, leaving Leon in the living room with his breakfast and the morning cartoons.
Emery opened his desk drawer.
“I got them,” he said, waving some papers.
“Find some easy good luck superstitions.”
Emery scanned the list.
“Here’s an easy one,” Emery reported.
“What is it?”
“Sneeze three times before lunch and you’ll have good luck.”
Philip nodded. “Find a couple more.”
“Meet three sheep and have good luck.”
“Emery! Don’t be stupid. It’s not funny anymore. Where are we going to meet even one sheep?”
“At the zoo?”
“We don’t have time for that. We can snuff up some pepper before we have lunch and sneeze, but no sheep, okay? We’d probably have so much bad luck getting to the zoo, we’d never get to the zoo.”
“Here’s another easy one. Avoid cracks in the sidewalk.”
“Okay,” Philip agreed. “That’s good. And no walking under ladders.”
“Or breaking mirrors.”
Philip nodded. “A couple more.”
“Find a penny. Find a four-leaf clover. See a fish leap from the water.”
“Forget the fish,” Philip cried. “Just normal ones, for Pete’s sake.”
“Hey guys?” Leon called from downstairs. He started up the stairs.
“Okay,” said Philip. “Put it away. That’s enough. We’ll give Leon the hard ones. I remember one.”
“Hey guys. Yuk yuk. What’s up? Whatdya wanna play today?”
Philip cleared his throat and said, “Leon, you gotta help us. Anyway, you can’t go out without laces in your sneakers. You didn’t bring any shoes, either. Right?”
Leon looked worried. “No, no shoes.”
Emery spoke. “And you admit you’re giving us your trissaphobia.”
“Triskaidekaphobia,” Leon said absent-mindedly, looking even more worried. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. It’s . . . it’s just my bad luck.”
“You have to do some good luck superstitions for us,” Emery commanded.
“Yeah, Leon. You gotta protect us. You already got Emery’s teeth
pulled.”
“What can I do?” Leon moaned. “I’m just bad luck, but your mother won’t let me sit on the table like an Egyptian anymore. That worked real good.”
“The greatest good luck thing there is,” Philip said with a dramatic pause, “is to wear a dress.”
“Yeah,” Emery agreed, remembering how they’d laughed when they thought Leon would probably do it. But he and Philip were deadly serious now. “That’s the best good luck there is. We looked it up.”
“Wear a dress! I can’t wear a dress. I’m a boy!”
“Well, you don’t really have to wear it,” Philip explained. “You just have to wear it inside-out.”
“Oh,” Leon smiled. “Inside . . . inside-out! I can’t wear a dress inside-out. I don’t even have a dress. And if I did I wouldn’t wear it anyway. People would see me. People would . . .”
Emery thought fast. “You don’t have to wear it inside-out outside. You just have to wear it inside-out inside.”
Leon looked puzzled. “You mean outside it’s not inside-out but inside the outside’s inside?”
“Don’t make it complicated, Leon,” Emery said in a threatening voice. “You’ll be inside when the outside of the dress is inside and you’ll never be outside whether the dress is inside-out or outside regular.”
Leon went on, frowning, “But if the outside is inside how can I be inside when . . .”
“Just wear the stupid dress, Leon,” Philip shouted. “Inside, outside, inside . . .” he muttered.
“Yeah, Leon, just wear the dress,” Emery agreed.
“Oh, just wear the dress. Sure, that’s easy to say for you,” Leon said in defeat.
Philip suddenly remembered the kleebis game. “We’ll make it easy for you, Leon. We’ll hide you in the closet where the bad luck can’t find you and where nobody can see you.”
“That’s it, Leon,” Emery jumped in. “And even if the bad luck does find you, it won’t recognize you ’cause you’ll be in your inside-out dress.”
“Right,” Philip agreed. “And you only have to stay there until dinnertime.”
“Yeah,” said Emery. “It’s not like it’s forever.”
“It’s forever to me,” Leon said sadly.
“You’re the one who gave us the disease,” Philip argued, hoping Leon would feel very guilty about that.
Leon put his hand to his head. “I hate closets,” he muttered. “I was in one once for a long time.” Then he looked at his friends. “Why do these things happen to me? I don’t have a dress,” he concluded in a very small voice.
“He doesn’t have a dress,” Emery repeated to Philip.
“No, I guess not. Uh, the junk store. The junk store in the mall where the supermarket is.”
“Yeah!” Emery cried. “They sell clothes for like a dollar.”
“I don’t have a dollar either,” Leon said with a bubble of hope.
“I have a dollar,” Philip assured him, patting his right pocket. “Four dollars. We’ll find something.”
“Oh,” Leon moaned.
Emery’s mother appeared at the bedroom door.
“Okay you three,” she said. “Time to go out and play.”
The boys exchanged glances.
Emery’s mother tossed something at Leon.
“Put these laces in your sneakers,” she said wearily. “I measured them. Eighteen inches.”
Everyone watched Leon sit on the floor and lace his sneakers. Then he tied the biggest bows they had ever seen on shoes.
“Good,” said Mrs. Wyatt. “Now out. Out.”
The three boys preceded her down the stairs and went straight out onto the sidewalk.
“Okay, let’s go to the junk store before it’s too late,” Philip said, looking warily at Leon.
Emery nodded and they set out.
Chapter Eleven
“Come on, guys,” Leon pleaded as they stood at the entrance to the junk store. “Do I really have to wear a dress? You sure?”
“Positive,” Emery snapped. “You gave us this trissaphobia. You gotta take it away.”
Leon’s head sagged and he put his hand to his forehead. “Okay,” he said in a small voice. “And it’s not trissaphobia. It’s . . .”
“Never mind,” Philip cut him off sharply. “Go in.” He held the junk store door open for Emery and Leon.
The floor of the junk store was littered with tables covered with all kinds of stuff people had turned in because they didn’t want it anymore. There were toys, books, shoes, kitchen gadgets, lamps, hats, gloves—anything you could think of.
“Let’s find the ladies’ dresses,” said Emery and Leon moaned.
The boys walked through the jungle of junk, stopping here and there to inspect anything that looked interesting. Finally, Philip pointed. A long line of dresses hung from a row of metal coat stands.
“Go find one you like,” said Emery.
“One that fits,” Philip advised. He whispered to Emery, “If it doesn’t fit, he’ll be tripping all over the place and probably knock your house over.”
Leon walked sadly along the line of dresses until he came to a sign that said, “Children’s Clothes.” He turned to Philip and Emery and pointed at the sign.
Philip waved his hands toward Leon as if shooing away a fly. “Make believe we’re not with him,” he said to Emery quietly, “Somebody we know may see us.”
Emery waved his hand toward Leon, who obeyed and walked slowly down the aisle as if he was going to the electric chair.
Philip and Emery watched Leon walk up and down in front of the dresses four times.
“Come on, he won’t pick one,” Philip said disgustedly. “He doesn’t look like he’s very excited about this. Let’s find him a dress and get out of here.”
He and Emery walked quickly to Leon.
Emery grabbed the first dress he saw and swung it out where they could see it.
“Here’s a pretty one, Leon.”
Leon looked gloomily at his cousin and declared, “I don’t want to look pretty.”
“You won’t look pretty,” Philip snapped. “You’ll be in a closet. No one will see you.”
“I don’t have to wear it on the way home, do I?” Leon asked, rubbing his hand along the dress. “It’s soft.”
“Who cares soft or hard?” Emery barked. “No, you can just put it on when you get home.”
“See if it fits,” said Philip.
Emery held the pink dress, which had a frilly bottom and looked like somebody might have gone to dancing school in it, up in front of Leon.
Leon shut his eyes.
“What do you think, Philip? Will it fit?”
“I guess so. Wanna try it on, Leon?”
“No!” Leon cried. “Let’s just go.”
“You guys want to see what we got in high heel shoes? Nylon stockings? Some hair ribbons?”
The boys looked and saw a short man in a wrinkled, white short-sleeved shirt. His shirt pocket had three pens in it as well as an ink stain on the outside of it. He needed a shave and the little bit of hair he had pointed in many different directions.
“What’re you boys doing? Put that dress back.”
“We’re . . . we’re buying it. We’re gonna buy it,” Philip explained.
“For him?” The man pointed at Leon.
“Well, he’s . . . he’s . . . ” Emery looked at Philip.
“I’m bad luck,” Leon interrupted. “I gotta go in a closet and . . .”
“He’s in a show,” Philip burst in. “It’s a costume for a show.”
“Yeah, right.” The man stared at the boys a moment. “You three got Guidance Counselors in your school?”
Philip and Emery looked puzzled.
“You ought to go and talk to one.”
“School’s over,” Emery said in confusion.
“Well, that is too bad for you,” the man said with a shake of his head.
“We’ll take this one,” Philip said, hoping to put an end to the conversat
ion.
“You will, eh?” The man shrugged. “Take it up front.”
“Come on,” Philip said, and Leon and Emery followed him to the front.
The dress cost three dollars and Philip paid, making a note to himself to get a dollar-fifty from Emery later. The young girl at the register put the dress into a plastic bag and the boys left.
“Why did he ask us about the Guidance Counselor?” Leon wondered as he followed Emery and Philip, who were walking as fast as they could.
“Who knows? He was just being weird,” said Philip.
“Oww!” came a cry from behind them. Philip and Emery turned.
“Get up, Leon,” Emery said impatiently. Leon was sitting on the sidewalk rubbing his right knee. “What’d you do?”
“The shoelaces are too long. I fell.”
“Keep tying the bow and make it shorter,” Philip demanded. “And hurry up. You see what your trissaphobia is doing. We gotta get you in that dress fast.”
Leon tied and retied the bows until they were nothing more than big lumps on the top of his sneaker.
“That’s better,” Philip complimented him. “Now walk in front of us. We’ll watch you.”
“I better go slow,” Leon said pitifully.
“Yeah, yeah,” Philip said. “You’re leading. Just go, we’ll follow you.”
They made it home safely and took Leon upstairs.
“Get into the dress,” Emery ordered. “And don’t forget—inside out. We’ll sneak you into the hall closet downstairs.” To Philip he whispered, “If my mother sees him . . . She said he almost gave her a heart attack the kleebis time.”
“How do I look?” Leon asked in despair.
“Doesn’t matter how you look,” Philip said, thinking that Leon’s knobby knees didn’t match the soft pink material of the dress. “Nobody’s gonna see you.”
“Yeah, and you sure don’t gotta worry about being pretty,” Emery assured him. “’Cause you’re not.”
Leon gave his cousin a look, not certain whether to be offended or not. He said, “I took off my sneakers so I don’t trip again.”
“Good,” said Emery. “Now come with us.”
Philip and Emery led Leon down the stairs. They could hear Emery’s mother in the basement.
“Get in. Get in,” Philip ordered, opening the hallway closet door.
Philip and the Superstition Kid (9781452430423) Page 5
