by Diana Lopez
Loop suddenly knew what to ask for. He decided to chat with La Virgen de Guadalupe, thinking it would be easier to persuade her since they shared the same name. “Okay, O.G., I need help,” he began quietly. “I got these friends who are giving me grief. Seriously. They don’t have resources, so they come to me. And I’m supposed to buy them stuff. Now, before you think I’m selfish, let me remind you that I’m more than happy to spare some change for snow cones and movie tickets. I don’t mind letting them download playlists, either. But I’m supposed to sponsor them for the magic convention, too? That’d be like Batman lending his Batmobile to the Joker. How does that make sense? It’s like paying the competition to defeat you.” He stopped, realizing he hadn’t made his petition yet. “So here’s the deal, O.G. I’m not asking you to give them money, because that would be materialistic. But maybe you could help them accept their situations. That way, they’ll stop bugging me for stuff. Sometimes, they’re as annoying as hard snot in the nose.” He flinched. “Wait. I take that back. Please forgive me for saying my friends are like snot.” He stared at the little statue. She had such a pleasant smile. “Really, I don’t want anything for myself. Just make it so my buddies stop caring about that competition, since they probably won’t get enough money to go anyway. Think about how happy they’ll be when they accept that they’re staying behind.”
This was the most reasonable, selfless petition he had ever made. He wanted to pat himself on the back or shake his own hand, but he didn’t think his grandma would approve. He waited a moment in case he got another great idea. He didn’t, so he said, “Amen,” this time out loud.
A few seconds later, his grandma said, “Amen,” too. And then she said, “I always feel better after I pray.”
Loop put his hand on her shoulder and smiled. “Me too.”
burn—
when spectators closely watch magicians in order to catch their sleights of hand
AFTER HIS GRANDMA LEFT, Loop decided to contact his friends to ask them to return his magic stuff. First, he texted Dominic.
Loop: need chop cup bck
Dominic: ?
Loop: don’t play dumb
Dominic: u gave it 2 me
Loop: lent it
Dominic: 2 bad. mine now
Loop: give it bck
Dominic: u don’t even use it
Loop: u don’t either
Dominic: whatever… it’s at shop
Loop: it better be
Next, he contacted Z to ask for his Svengali deck, but since Z wasn’t at home and didn’t have a cell phone, Loop had to leave a message.
He decided to cover all his bases by calling Conjuring Cats. When Ariel answered, he said, “Did Dominic leave a chop cup there?”
She took a minute to reply, probably because she was looking for it.
“Yeah, there’s a chop cup here. Why?”
“It’s mine. I let him borrow it, but now I need it back. Are the balls there, too?”
“It’s all here, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“But what?”
“I’m not sure I should say this because I don’t want to cause any trouble, but the last time I saw Dominic with the chop cup, he was doing something weird.”
“Like what?”
Ariel hesitated. “Well…”
“Well, what?” Loop started pacing. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“Dominic had a bunch of magnets,” Ariel said. “Different sizes. He kept putting them against the chop cup. When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was conducting an experiment.”
“An experiment? Like for science?”
“That’s what he said. And then he told me he loves reading, especially science books. So, yeah, he did a science experiment on your chop cup.”
“He’s a total geek sometimes,” Loop said. “Is the chop cup okay? He didn’t melt it or anything, did he?”
“It looks normal to me,” Ariel said. Then, when Loop did not reply, “Anything else?” she asked. “I’m kind of busy over here.”
“If you see Z, make sure he leaves my Svengali deck. I bet he doesn’t want to give it back, but it’s my property. I bought it with my own money.”
“Sure,” she said. “Svengali deck.”
“Thanks. I’ll come by next week to pick up my stuff.”
“Suit yourself,” she said.
Loop was so annoyed. The number one rule when you borrowed something was to take care of it. If Loop were to borrow something from his friends, like a book, he would not dog-ear the pages, write notes in the margins, or break the spines. He wouldn’t even drink hot chocolate while reading because it might spill on the page. He’d wash his hands before touching it, too. He would not use the book for his own experiments. And he wouldn’t borrow the book if he had money to buy his own copy.
This was the last time his friends were taking advantage of him. He was never going to lend them anything again! And every time they got near his stuff, he was going to watch them closely, just like spectators who burn magicians because they don’t want to be fooled by the magic act.
repertoire—
a list of tricks that a magician is able to perform
WHY DID LOOP WANT the chop cup all of a sudden? Sure, Dominic had borrowed it, but only to see how it worked. And the reason he wanted to figure it out was to show Loop and Z. It wasn’t like they would ever solve the gimmick.
Loop doesn’t really want it back, Dominic realized. He’s just getting back at me for what I said about his dad the other day.
“If that’s how he wants to play it,” Dominic mumbled to himself, “he can have the chop cup. But no way is he getting the quarter shell. He gave that to me.”
He looked up the number for Conjuring Cats and dialed, noticing that he’d missed several calls from his mom. He’d check the messages later.
“Conjuring Cats. This is Ariel speaking.” She sounded so professional. Her whole voice had changed. Instead of someone in middle school, she sounded like someone in college.
“Hi, Ariel. It’s Dominic.”
That’s when he heard smacking. She must have been chewing gum. “We got, like, ten minutes before we close,” she said, all annoyed. “You have some magic emergency or what?” She was the normal version of herself again, and Dominic couldn’t help smiling, even if this was the rude side of her personality.
“Did I leave my quarter shell there?” he asked.
Except for the smacking, she was silent on the other end.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes, I heard you. It’s just that…” She left a giant fill-in-the-blank at the end of her sentence.
“It’s just what?” Dominic asked.
“I didn’t know it was your quarter shell. I thought it belonged to Z because he was using it today.”
“He was? Why? He doesn’t do coin magic. He likes cards.”
“That’s what I thought at first. And then I figured he wanted to expand his repertoire or something. Anyway, he left it here, so I guess it does belong to you. You can pick it up tomorrow.” She paused and stopped chewing her gum. Then she used her professional voice again. “We’re open Tuesday through Saturday from ten in the morning to seven in the evening.”
“I know your hours,” Dominic said, “but I’m out of town for the next two weeks. Do you think you can mail it to me if I give you my dad’s address?”
Ariel sighed—loudly. Dominic knew that he was bothering her and that she had better things to do, but he gave her his address anyway.
When they disconnected, he decided to check his voice mail. His mom had left five messages! What was wrong with her? He’d been gone only two days.
Dominic shook his head. His mom was too overprotective, and it really bugged him sometimes. He couldn’t take three steps out of the apartment without telling her where he was going. Why couldn’t she relax and be more like his dad? He really didn’t want to talk to her right now, so he decided to call back later.
escape artist—
a performer who specializes in freeing himself from constraints like handcuffs, straitjackets, and locked boxes
A FEW DAYS LATER, Z and his siblings argued about which channel to watch while their parents ran errands. They’d been running errands for three days in a row. Z wondered what they were up to, but every time he asked, they said, “It’s a surprise.”
“No more cooking shows!” Boxer Boy shouted as he snatched the remote from Copycat. “You don’t even cook.”
“Well, no more boxing or UFC,” she snapped back.
Since they were yelling so loud, no one heard the honking at first. Finally, Bossy went, “Shh!” and everyone got quiet. “What’s that noise?” she said as she went to the door and opened it. There was a lot more honking, so the whole family followed. When they stepped outside, they spotted an extra car in the driveway—a white Toyota Camry. Z’s dad stepped out of his Ford F-150 truck, and Z’s mom stepped out of the new car.
“Look what we bought!” she said, opening the doors, the hood, and the trunk so everyone could take a peek.
Z’s brothers and sisters cheered as they ran to the new car. They inspected the engine, the tires, and the seats. They started fighting over the keys. Their parents explained that the car was for everyone, that they’d have to work out a schedule because from now on, the kids were going to have to drive one another to work and school.
Z should have been excited, too, but he could only think about how much money the car cost. And how did a new car help him? He didn’t have a driver’s license. He went everywhere on his skateboard or bike. And the biggest question was… now that his parents had car payments, how were they going to pay for the magic convention?
He went inside and picked up the phone. His friends had really upset him last week, but living in a house with a bunch of brothers and sisters had taught him that holding grudges got you nowhere. Best to forgive and forget. So first he called Dominic. But there was no answer. He probably hit “ignore” on his phone, Z thought. At least I have Loop. He dialed the number, but Loop’s mom picked up the phone. “He can’t talk right now,” she said. “He’s reading.”
Why would Loop be reading? He hated books. With one friend ignoring him and the other making up an excuse, Z got mad. What had happened to being buddies through thick and thin? And why were they mad at him? He hadn’t done anything wrong. As far as he was concerned, they should be begging him for forgiveness.
He was about to look up the number for Conjuring Cats—maybe Ariel would listen—but then he heard an engine start. He peeked out and saw his siblings squeezed into the Camry, the dog sticking its head out the window, and Bossy in the driver’s seat. They were going for a ride, and once again, they’d forgotten to include him.
“Figures,” he mumbled. “I’m just invisible to them.”
Just then, his parents stepped in, surprised to see him.
“¿Qué pasó?” his dad said. “Why are you in here by yourself?”
“Don’t you want to go for a ride?” his mom asked.
Z shook his head. He wanted to cry—that’s how frustrated he felt—but there was no way he was going to let the tears out.
“Aren’t you excited about the car?” his mom asked.
Z shook his head again.
His dad put a hand on Z’s shoulder. “What is it, mijo?”
Z looked at his parents. With everyone gone and the TV still on mute, the house was amazingly quiet.
“Why would I care about the car?” he said. “I can’t even drive. And you know no one’s going to give me a ride anywhere. They’ll tell me to take my bike.”
“You’ll be driving in a few years,” his dad said.
“Sure. By then, the car will be all messed up. Everything I get is messed up.” He held out the hem of his T-shirt to show them a little hole. “This was here by the time I got this shirt. It’s like that with all my clothes because they always belong to someone else first.”
“You want some new clothes?” his mom asked, as if he were a giant puzzle to solve.
“No.” Z took a deep breath. “I don’t care about that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I never ask for anything,” he said. “Not really. But now I am asking for something.”
His parents stared at him, waiting for an explanation.
“I want to go to that magic convention and compete in the close-up contest.”
His parents glanced at each other. He could tell they’d already discussed this.
“It costs a lot of money,” his father said. “We want you to go, but a magic convention is not something”—he paused—“that’s for everyone.”
Z’s mom jumped in. “Like the car,” she explained. “It’s for the whole family. But this contest is only for you, and as much as we love you, mijo, we have to do what’s best for everybody.”
“But…” Z couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reached into his pocket for Pierre and threw him hard against the floor. He let Pierre’s bounces get smaller and smaller until finally the ball rolled under the couch. “I’m always last,” he told his parents, “so nothing is ever best for me.” He rushed to his room because holding back tears was getting tough, and the last thing he wanted was to cry in front of people. If he did, he’d never get rid of his baby-of-the-family status.
Once in his room, he started cleaning. He even picked up his brothers’ stuff, just to forget about being upset. He kept thinking of escape artists like Houdini. They could get out of any situation—even being tied up, handcuffed, locked in a box, and dumped underwater! If only Z could escape, too. Maybe, somewhere, he’d find a family who wouldn’t forget about him or push him aside all the time.
As he tried to calm down, he heard his parents talking. He couldn’t make out their words, but he knew they were speaking about him. After a while, they stepped into the room, the registration form in their hands.
“We signed it,” his dad said. “It says you can pay when you get to the convention.”
“We can give you some money to help, but you’ll have to find a way to earn the rest,” his mother said.
“Maybe you can mow some lawns,” his dad suggested.
“Or wash some cars,” his mom added.
His dad reached out and put an arm around Z. “We wish we had more, mijo. But business has been slow, and we have to make sure we put money aside in case it doesn’t pick up again. Understand?”
Z nodded as he looked at the form. Sure enough, they had signed it, and sure enough, the payment was due on the first day of the convention. “Thanks,” he said as he threw his arms around them. Maybe he didn’t have the money yet, but at least he had their support.
geek magic—
tricks that are designed to shock the audience
LOOP’S MOM WOULDN’T LET him talk to his friends or go to Conjuring Cats until he read at least one more chapter of Frankenstein. So he forced himself to read, and when he finally finished that chapter, he went to give her an update on the book.
“Dr. Frankenstein is a wimp,” Loop reported. “He spends all this time gathering body parts and then using electricity to jolt the thing alive, and when he succeeds, he freaks out because it looks like a zombie. What did he expect? You can’t be surprised when your project looks messed up because you mixed a bunch of parts. That’s like building a car from motorcycles, trucks, and minivans. You’re going to end up with one ugly machine. But, hey, if it works, who cares? That’s the whole point of a car, right? To get from one place to another? And the whole point of Dr. Frankenstein’s experiment was to see if he could make something dead come back to life. He totally did that, so I don’t see why he ran off screaming.”
Loop’s mother thought for a moment. “Perhaps he ran off because he hadn’t considered the true consequences of his actions.”
“He totally considered the consequences. He wanted to make something dead come alive, and he did that.”
“I mean the next set of consequences.”
>
Loop got a little confused. “What next set of consequences?”
“Like whether the experiment was the right thing to do. Sometimes, just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. Every time a scientist thinks of a new experiment, he has to consider whether it will do more harm than good.”
Loop considered this. “Like the Manhattan Project and the atomic bomb?”
“Exactly. Wow! I’m surprised you know about that.”
“I’m not a moron,” Loop said. “I know lots of stuff, and I don’t need straight As to prove it.”
Loop knew about the Manhattan Project because of a show on the History Channel. In addition to sports, he and Rubén used to watch documentaries. That’s how he learned that the Manhattan Project was when a bunch of scientists got together to create the first atomic bomb. The bomb was used against Japan in World War II, and it basically ended the war. Even though the scientists were happy about this, they felt awful about creating something that could kill so many people. The most horrible part was what happened to the people who survived the bomb. They got radiation poisoning, which was like being cooked from the inside out. Talk about some serious consequences.
Loop remembered how he and Rubén had stayed up for hours talking about the bomb. They had gone online to learn more, and the best part was knowing there wasn’t going to be a test afterward. Rubén didn’t even quiz him. Believe it or not, Loop remembered more when he didn’t have tests or quizzes or “updates.” But try explaining that to his teachers and his mom.
Loop’s shoulders dropped a bit, and his mom noticed. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Loop said, because he didn’t want to admit that he missed watching TV with Rubén. Sure, Rubén invited him every time something interesting came on, but Loop always said no.
