Nothing Up My Sleeve

by Diana Lopez

  “This is so lame,” Ariel said.

  Z sighed, all frustrated. “Sorry. I never practice with a five. The most I ever have is a one-dollar bill.”

  “Whatever,” she said.

  “Well,” Z went on, “I don’t know if you see Lincoln’s shifty eyes, but I sure do and they’re really creeping me out. They creep me out so much that all I want to do is poke them out!” With that, he punctured the bill with the pen, leaving the pen there and making the teenage girl flinch and the boy say, “Dude, show some respect for the prez!”

  Z displayed the bill again to prove that the pen had poked through and that he was truly using the bill with Mrs. Garza’s signature.

  Then he held up a finger. “Don’t worry. It’s all cool.” He did another move. It wasn’t very graceful, but he managed to pull out the pen, and—presto!—Abraham Lincoln was okay. There was no hole where the pen had stabbed his face, and since Mrs. Garza’s initials were still there, everyone knew that this was the same five-dollar bill.

  “Bravo!” cheered Mrs. Garza.

  But Ariel was unimpressed. “You used the gimmick pen that comes in every beginner magic set. Big deal. I could do that same trick when I was four.”

  Z’s shoulders slumped. Ariel was right. He had used a gimmick pen from the beginner’s set. Luckily, Mrs. Garza gave Ariel’s comments a positive spin. “It’s true. The Pen-through-Dollar is a standard beginner’s trick. But you performed it quite well, once you fixed the setup. You also added your own flare with the shifty eyes comment. I was quite startled when you stabbed Lincoln’s face. And having me sign the bill ensured that you had a proof built into the trick. I do have one suggestion, and only because I want you to get better, okay?”

  Z nodded.

  “Make sure you come prepared,” Mrs. Garza said. “Bring all the necessary supplies and complete your setup before you do the trick. It’s very distracting to watch a magician getting ready. Plus, the audience figures out that he’s using a gimmick. Make sense?” Z nodded. “Other than that,” she went on, “I believe you are ready for the more complicated tricks that are waiting in the Vault.”

  “So I earned a key?” Z had to double-check, because being cursed meant he didn’t get good news very often.

  “You most certainly did,” Mrs. Garza said.

  Dominic, Loop, and Z cheered, and then they followed Mrs. Garza to the counter. Before giving them the keys, she had to help the teenage couple. The boy wanted to buy his own Mafia Manicure gimmick, and the girl wanted to buy a whoopee cushion so she could embarrass her friends. Meanwhile, Ariel grabbed her notebook and went to a corner to write again.

  When the teens finally left the store, Mrs. Garza turned her attention to the boys. Instead of gold or silver keys, she took out three index cards, wrote “K-E-Y” on them, and stamped them with the official Conjuring Cats logo, a kitty with a top hat on its head and a wand in its mouth.

  She handed them the cards. “You are official magicians,” she said. “And with the power of magic comes a code of honor. Ready?”

  They nodded.

  “One, a magician never reveals his secrets to spectators. Two, a magician never repeats the same trick to the same audience. Three, a magician never uses his powers to gamble, cheat, or steal. Four, a magician gives credit where credit is due. And five, a magician never seeks revenge on the hecklers.” She paused to let them absorb this. “Do you promise to uphold the magician’s code of honor?”

  In unison the boys said, “We promise.”

  She made a sweeping gesture toward the purple velvet curtain. “Wonderful! You may now enter the Vault.”

  reveal—

  to make a secret known to others

  Z AND HIS FRIENDS walked toward the Vault. He knew there wasn’t a wormhole on the other side, but he did expect magic to be revealed. Instead, when he pushed aside the curtain, he found a sink, refrigerator, coffeemaker, microwave, and two round tables surrounded by cafeteria chairs. Along one wall was a row of lockers and a door with a restroom sign.

  “It’s just a break room,” Z said, unable to hide his disappointment.

  Against the back wall was an L-shaped desk with a mess of papers and a computer. A man sat there. He didn’t turn around when they entered. He just said, “Come in if you must, but don’t make too much noise.” He hunched over his keyboard and typed, glancing at his screen now and then.

  “We’re here for the secrets of magic,” Z announced.

  The man kept his focus on the computer.

  “So where are they?” Z said. “Mrs. Garza gave us the keys.”

  This time, the man held up his hand as if to tell them to wait. They did, but soon they got impatient again.

  “Are you the sage?” Dominic tried.

  The man sighed. “No. I’m the accountant.” He finally turned around. Instead of a sports logo, his baseball cap had a picture of a bulldog with MEATHEAD written underneath. He also wore reading glasses that sat halfway down his nose. He had dark skin, a mustache, and a frown. “Did you spend a hundred dollars or perform a trick?”

  “Performed a trick,” the boys mumbled, not in exact unison, though they had tried. For some reason, Z felt like he was in detention.

  “And Mrs. Garza gave you the keys?” the man asked, waving them over so they could hand him the index cards. He studied them and smiled. Then he stood up, his panza—stomach—hanging over his belt. He was wearing a gray T-shirt with another picture of a bulldog, only this one did not have any words. “Okay, then,” the man said, shaking their hands. “Welcome to the Vault. All the secrets to magic are behind you.”

  Z turned and saw shelves full of books, binders, and videos. They were jam-packed without an inch to spare. The man walked to the kitchenette and opened the upper and lower cabinets. Inside were large plastic bins. These were a bit more organized, with labels like CUPS AND BALLS, GAFF CARDS, SILKS, THUMB TIPS, SPONGE BUNNIES, and SHELLS. But most were labeled MISCELLANEOUS.

  He looked sternly at the boys. “These props are for practice. You can borrow anything in this room while you’re here, but if you want to take supplies home, you will have to buy them. I’m running a business, not a charity. ¿Entiendes?”

  The boys nodded. The accountant seemed satisfied, so he returned to his desk and computer.

  Z didn’t know where to start, and neither did his friends, because they just stood there, too. Well, Z decided, we can’t stand around all day. He went straight to the sponge bunnies and opened the bin. Inside were sponges shaped like rabbits. They’d been crammed so tightly that a dozen spilled out when Z opened it. The boys picked them up and examined them.

  “You can barely tell they’re bunnies,” Dominic said. “Looks like someone used a cookie cutter to make them.”

  The sponge bunnies were mostly yellow, but as the boys sifted through the box, they discovered some that were green, hot pink, or red. Most were no taller than a triple-A battery, but every now and then, they found a bigger one.

  “Hey,” Z realized, “we’ve got bunny families in here.”

  They dumped the bunnies onto one of the tables and started to group them. That’s when they noticed that there were sponge chicks, sponge hearts, and even sponge gremlins.

  “What’s so magical about these?” Loop asked as he carefully examined a yellow bunny. Then he took a whole bunch and squeezed his fist closed. When he let go, the bunnies popped out, quickly resuming their shape. Z tossed a few but they floated down like empty ziplock bags, making them impossible to juggle. Dominic studied them like a detective with a magnifying glass.

  “Beats me,” he said to answer Loop’s question. “Maybe they’re just toys.”

  The accountant cleared his throat. “They are not toys,” he corrected. “This is a magic shop, not a toy store.”

  “So what’s magical about them?” Dominic asked. The boys waited for a reply, but the man had his back toward them as he busily punched numbers on a calculator.

  Z started to repack the bunni
es, trying his best to keep the family groups together. Since there were so many, he had to squish them in order to replace the lid.

  “It must be awful to be crammed in like that,” Z said.

  “They’re sponges,” Loop said. “They don’t have feelings.”

  “But what if they did? What if they were people all crammed in a tiny box?”

  “They’re not people. They’re little sponges.”

  “But what if they were?”

  “They’re not, so it’s a dumb thing to worry about.”

  Z hated how his friends acted like all his ideas were stupid.

  Dominic jumped in. “If they were people, it would be awful, but since they’re sponges, it’s not.”

  Z nodded, convinced that Dominic had taken his side, but when he saw Loop nodding, too, he realized that Dominic hadn’t picked a side at all.

  They returned the bin and pulled out another, and because this one was labeled SHELLS, Z thought about the beach, how he never had any fun because his brothers and sisters hogged the kites, lawn chairs, and inner tubes. But this bin had nothing to do with the beach, because instead of whelks, scallops, and sand dollars, it was filled with money!

  “It’s a pirate’s treasure chest!” Loop said, dipping his hand and letting the coins slip through his fingers.

  Z picked out a quarter. “That means it’s probably cursed.” He turned it over and discovered that, yes, it was cursed, because the coin was all hollow inside.

  Dominic grabbed one, too. “You’re right,” he said. “This is fake money.”

  Z dumped the quarter back into the bin. “It’s a cursed treasure chest.”

  Loop disagreed. “It’s a pirate chest, and what do pirates do?” Z had no idea, so his friend went on. “They go into villages and steal treasure. Then they hide the treasure and create secret maps with all kinds of codes and puzzles. This must be a decoy. To find the real money, we need a clue. It’s probably buried in here.”

  Z perked up. Maybe Loop was right. In any case, he could sure use some money, so he started digging through the bin.

  “Maybe it’s supposed to be symbolic,” Dominic wondered aloud. “Maybe the hollow coins are telling us that money isn’t really important—like when they say ‘Money can’t buy happiness.’”

  “Are you crazy?” Z said. “Money can most definitely buy happiness.”

  “Yeah,” Loop added, “and more video games, a giant TV for your bedroom, and any car you want.”

  Dominic shook his head. Sometimes Z wished his friend could just pretend to believe in things like hidden treasure. After a while, they gave up their search for secret clues. After they put away the shells, they decided to investigate the THUMB TIPS bin.

  As soon as they opened it, Loop couldn’t contain his excitement. “This is insane!” Inside were hollow, plastic thumbs. Loop slipped one on and showed his friends. “How about a thumbs-up?”

  Z slipped on two and said, “I give it two thumbs-up.”

  Dominic put thumb tips on every finger. “Wish I could help”—he giggled—“but I’m all thumbs.”

  Loop put his hand on Dominic’s head. “I got you under my thumb.”

  Z struck a hitchhiking pose. “Can I thumb a ride?”

  Z couldn’t stop laughing at their silly thumb jokes and the way they tried to outwit one another. They were about to take off their shoes and put thumb tips on their toes when Ariel walked in.

  “What are you doing?” she said, as angry as the meanest, most impatient teacher in the universe. “This is a magic shop, not a toy store.”

  She sounded just like Z’s bossy sister. He tried to apologize, but she just glared at him. Ariel was definitely a different kind of girl. She did not notice things like curly eyelashes.

  flourish—

  a fancy move meant to attract the attention of others; magicians often use flourishes to show off their ability to handle cards

  DOMINIC COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. Ariel had repeated the accountant, word for word.

  “Put those away,” she said, marching to them and plucking the thumb tips off their hands. “You amateurs! How dare you joke about my craft? It’s insulting!”

  “We didn’t mean to insult you,” Dominic said. “We’re just exploring.”

  “You have to admit,” Loop added, “a box of cutoff thumbs is cool.”

  “Those are not cutoff thumbs,” Ariel said. “They’re thumb tips. Do you even know what they’re for?”

  Dominic thought they were for Halloween costumes, but he was afraid to answer. So far, he’d been more wrong than right when Ariel was around.

  “Like I said—amateurs!” She walked to the SILKS bin and pulled out a red handkerchief. She made a big show of waving it in the air. Then she made a loose fist with her left hand and tucked the red silk into it. She blew on her hand, and when she opened her fist, the silk was gone. She had made it disappear! Dominic remembered how she had done the same move during her routine over a month ago.

  “That is beyond cool,” Loop said, “but how did you do it?”

  Ariel could only shake her head. “Look here, noobs.” She splayed the fingers of her left hand and then—pulled off her thumb! Of course, it wasn’t her real thumb, but a thumb tip with the red silk stuffed inside.

  “I get it!” Loop said, grabbing a thumb tip and a silk. He tried to do the trick himself, but when he stuffed the silk into the thumb tip, bits still poked out the edges.

  “That’s the sloppiest technique I’ve ever seen,” Ariel complained. “You’ll never be a magician with such awful execution.”

  “Ariel,” the accountant warned.

  Dominic had forgotten about the man because he seemed so preoccupied—he still had his back to them as he punched numbers into his calculator—but apparently, he paid attention to everything that happened in the Vault.

  Ariel glanced at him and rolled her eyes. Then she reached in her back pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. “I’m just saying that you obviously haven’t studied the art. Every beginner magician knows what a thumb tip is. You can probably buy thumb tips at Walmart. That’s how passé they are.”

  Dominic glanced at his friends. They looked confused, probably because they didn’t know what “passé” meant. He was about to explain, but then Ariel flicked the top card of the deck, making it somersault like a world-class gymnast, and then caught it—all with one hand!

  “If you really want a challenge,” she went on, “try hiding silks without a thumb tip.” This time, as she talked, she spread the cards into a perfect fan. She did the fan again, but used only one hand. Then she squared the deck, took the top card, and made it spin on her fingertip the way a Globetrotter spins a basketball. “There are a zillion ways to hide cards or coins,” she said. “You can palm them, back-palm them, sleeve them, or use a topit…” Without missing a beat, she lifted the cards and made them fall, one at a time, into her lower hand. “Of course, it takes hours and weeks, maybe even years to master the sleights. You guys have a long way to go.” As she spoke, she divided the deck into three sections, making them flip over one another but somehow keeping them connected, as if their corners were joined by hinges.

  Z couldn’t contain himself any longer. “That is so cool! How did you do that?”

  “This?” She did the fancy move again. “It’s called a Sybil cut.”

  Z grabbed some cards and tried the move, but the whole deck slipped from his fingers. Cards flew everywhere. It was just like him, Dominic thought, to try something without thinking it through first.

  “What a mess!” Ariel said as she continued to perform flawless Sybil cuts.

  Z picked up the cards. “Looks like that move is too advanced. What was the other thing you did?”

  “You mean this?” She made the cards fall from one hand to the other. “It’s called a cascade. And this is a fan, and when I spin the card, it’s called a pirouette. Don’t you know anything?”

  Dominic and Loop shook their heads, while Z attempted to
perform a cascade. Instead of landing in his hand, the cards landed all over the floor.

  “You’ve heard of the Buck twins, right?” Ariel said. “Everybody knows who they are.”

  “Do they live in Victoria?” Dominic asked.

  “No!” She sounded offended. “They do not live in Victoria. Why would they live here? They’re famous.”

  Dominic hated when he accidentally asked a stupid question.

  “They are the masters of cardistry,” Ariel said. “You think my flourishes are cool? Wait till you see what they can do with cards. Plus, they’re supercute—and there’s two of them! They’re hand doubles for movie actors.”

  “What’s a hand double?” Loop asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You know what a body double is, right?”

  “Sure,” Loop said. “They do stunts for the actors.”

  “So hand doubles do stunts for the actors’ hands. You can’t expect the actors to do card tricks or even simple flourishes like this.” She made the top card somersault again. “It takes real skill. I’d be surprised if even half of one percent of the entire human population could do it.”

  “Ariel,” the accountant said again. “That’s enough.”

  “I’m only stating a fact,” she replied. “Even people who know what a flourish is can’t actually do one.” With that, she started to cascade the cards again.

  The accountant turned around. “Stop showing off,” he said. “A true magician hides his skill and performs his routines with the most natural and invisible sleights.”

  “A true magician,” she countered, “uses cardistry to fascinate the spectators and show them just how spectacular card handling can be.”

  Dominic smiled. He loved a good debate.

  “All you’re doing,” the accountant said, pointing for emphasis, “is letting the audience know that you are adept at manipulating cards, which in turn robs your trick of power because they are expecting the spectacular rather than being surprised by it.”