Philip and the Deadly Curse
by
John Paulits
All rights reserved
Copyright © January 2012, John Paulits
Cover Art Copyright © 2012, Charlotte Holley
Gypsy Shadow Publishing
Lockhart, TX
www.gypsyshadow.com
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing.
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DEDICATION
For Tyler Yeung
Chapter One
Where is it? Philip wondered in exasperation as he moved every book in his school desk from one side to the other. He’d lost another Jolly Rancher, the second this week. No one could have taken it because he hadn’t been away from his desk all morning. Philip looked over his classmates to see whether anyone looked suspicious. His eyes finally settled on his best friend Emery, who sat directly across the aisle from him.
“Did you see my Jolly Rancher?” Philip whispered.
Emery shook his head and pointed to the front of the room.
“Did you lose something, Philip?” asked Mr. Ware, Philip’s fourth grade teacher. “I haven’t seen your head above the top of your desk for some time now.”
“I thought I left something here, but I can’t find it,” Philip answered.
“May I ask what is so important it takes you away from what we’re doing?”
“My Jolly Rancher.”
Mr. Ware scrunched up his face. “You lost a happy farmer?”
The class giggled.
“No, no. It’s candy.”
“Candy. Well, if anyone sees Philip’s candy, please return it to him. Now if you can return your attention to me, Philip, I’ll be a jolly teacher.”
Reluctantly, Philip sat up wondering if this bad luck of his would ever stop. Mr. Ware spoke to him nicely, but Philip knew when he’d been scolded; and he’d just been scolded. Where could his candy be? Philip began to slide down in his seat to look through his desk again, but caught himself. He’d already searched twice, and the next time Mr. Ware caught him, he would probably scold him with the louder voice the class never giggled at, and Philip had no desire to add more bad luck to his growing mountain of bad luck so he sat up and tried to pay attention. He couldn’t, though. The only thing interesting his brain at the moment was the bad luck following him everywhere lately.
When Philip met Emery for their usual walk to school that morning, Emery said hello and immediately bent over to pick up a quarter from the grass right near Philip’s left foot. Philip watched, astounded. Who knew how long the quarter had been lying there and how many times he had walked past it and not seen it? Emery shows up and one second later, he’s a quarter richer. He considered telling Emery he had a hole in his pocket and the quarter slipped through and fell out, but Emery might ask to see the hole. Philip had no choice but to congratulate Emery on his lucky find and silently bemoan his own bad luck.
Now his candy had disappeared, and Philip was fed up with one piece of bad luck following another and another and another. What could he do about it? Nothing. He sat back dejectedly and listened to Mr. Ware drone on about common denominators.
Walking home with Emery later, Philip decided to share his problem with his friend.
“Emery,” Philip began.
“Hold it,” Emery cried and ran across the street. He bent down and picked up something, then ran back to Philip. A big smile on his face, Emery held up a hard, pink air ball. “Here, catch.”
Philip grabbed the ball. “This is what you ran over there to get?” He bounced the ball and found it in very good shape.
“Didn’t you see it laying right along the curb?”
Philip shook his head and handed the ball back to Emery, who shoved it into his coat pocket.
Philip looked at him in sad wonder and said, “You found a quarter this morning and a good ball this afternoon.”
Emery shrugged and smiled. “Lucky, I guess.”
“Yeah, but why? Today I lost my Jolly Rancher. Mr. Ware yelled at me. I lost another Jolly Rancher Monday. I didn’t find the quarter, and I didn’t find the ball. All I have is bad luck. Why?”
“Maybe you need a good luck charm, like mine,” Emery said.
Philip stopped walking. “A good luck charm? You have one?”
Emery nodded. “Sure. Come on. It’s cold.”
“Show me,” Philip said.
“I’ll show you at my house. It’s in my pocket. I don’t want to undo my coat out here.”
Philip wondered what could possibly be giving Emery all of this good luck.
Chapter Two
“A troll?” Philip cried in surprise. “A troll is your good luck piece?”
Emery handed Philip a tiny plastic troll with long, frazzled yellow hair sticking straight up. “Yeah, but don’t tell anybody. They’ll tease me. It’s an old toy my father saved from when he was a kid, and now it’s my good luck troll.” He took the troll back from Philip.
“Your father gave it to you?”
“Not exactly. I kept losing things here in the house. Want some candy?”
Philip took three pieces of chocolate wrapped in red foil from a red dish.
“Somebody gave this candy to my mother,” Emery explained, “but I don’t think she likes it much ‘cause she never says anything to me when they disappear.”
“She doesn’t?” said Philip thoughtfully and took two more. “Tell me how you got your troll.”
“I was looking for a piece to my chess game in the downstairs coat closet, and instead I found this troll.”
“You never saw it before?”
“Nope.”
“So how did it end up on the floor in the closet?”
“I guess it fell off the top shelf, and it couldn’t have fallen off at a better time. I really needed some good luck.”
“Yeah, well so do I.” Philip mumbled eyeing the troll. “You never saw the troll before you found it on the floor?”
“Nope, never. I thought maybe somebody left it here, but I couldn’t figure out who. My mother never lets me have anybody over to play because of the babies.” Emery had two very small sisters. “Except you sometimes. You didn’t lose the troll, did you?” A concerned look came over Emery’s face.
Philip glanced longingly at the troll, but could not lie to his friend. “No, it isn’t mine. I wish I had one, though.”
Emery sighed in relief and shoved the troll into his back pocket. “Anyway, since I found it I’ve been having all kinds of good luck. Like today. You saw. I found my chess piece and lots of other things I lost. I only got yelled at once this week for making too much noise in the house around the babies; and I showed you the ninety I got on the math test. I never get even eighty usually.”
“How do you know it belonged to your
father?”
“He saw it and told me. I asked if I could have it, and he laughed and said I could.”
Philip thought of his two missing Jolly Ranchers and his mouth watered. He looked at Emery’s mom’s bowl of chocolates and took two more pieces.
“I need a good luck piece. Can I look around your house?”
Emery shrugged. “Go ahead, but if you find anything that belongs to me, you have to give it back.”
Philip frowned. “How do I know you won’t just say it’s yours if I find something good?”
“More bad luck for you,” said Emery, laughing. “Pretty funny, eh? More bad luck.”
“No, not pretty funny.” Something about Emery’s attitude made Philip angry. “I’m going to look in my own house. My house is as lucky as yours.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
Philip gave Emery a dark look. “Yeah, right.” Philip slung his schoolbag onto his back and left, determined to find an even luckier good luck piece than Emery’s dumb troll.
Chapter Three
Philip decided to put things to a test right away and threw his schoolbag and coat on the floor by the front door. Now he had to find something to give him good luck, and find it before his mother noticed his coat and book bag. If the good luck charm prevented his mother from yelling at him to hang his things up, he’d know he’d found a genuine and glorious source of good luck. If his mother yelled anyway, it would prove what he found was only a worthless piece of luckless junk, and he’d have to keep looking. A happy thought came to him. Suppose he found something so lucky, his mother hung up his coat and schoolbag herself without even mentioning it! No good luck charm could be luckier than that!
Philip closed the front door softly so not to tip off his mother before he found his lucky charm. He tiptoed into the living room, got down on his knees in front of the sofa, and looked underneath it.
“Yuck,” he muttered. He saw lots of dust and a few dark, mysterious, inviting shapes. Philip swatted at his nose. Every time he breathed out, dust bunnies leaped from the floor and spun in joy. He turned away, took a deep breath, and gritted his teeth. He pressed his eye to the space under the sofa and stretched his arm as far as he could. A new swirl of dust jumped inside his nose. “Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” He turned his head away and drew a deep breath.
“Philip, are you home?” came his mother’s voice.
“Ah-choo! Ah-choo!”
“Aren’t you feeling well? Are you getting a cold?” Philip squeezed his eyes shut and wiped the sneeze tears away.
“What are you doing? Get up off the floor.” Philip’s mother bent and felt his forehead. “No fever.”
Philip yanked his arm out from under the sofa, and more dust leaped into the air.
“Philip, you’re making all this dust . . . ah-choo! Ah-choo! Now you’ve got me sneezing, too. Get up from there.”
Philip rose and brushed his arm off.
“Stop! You’re making it worse,” his mother said in a louder voice. “You left your coat and bag on the floor? You just threw them? You should know better. Go put them away.”
“I . . . I was looking for something,” Philip sputtered.
“Look for it someplace where there isn’t so much dust. And go put your things away!” Philip’s mother stomped from the room.
In his hand Philip held a strange green piece of plastic and a small black plastic horse with one leg missing. His mother reappeared with a broom and dustpan.
“Move away and let me sweep,” she ordered.
Philip tossed the piece of plastic and the wounded horse on the floor where his mother could sweep them up. Obviously, neither one of them overflowed with good luck.
Philip hung up his coat and lugged his schoolbag to his bedroom. He tossed the bag on his bed and went to his secret shoebox. He took out a green Jolly Rancher to eat right away before he lost it.
As the candy melted in his mouth, Philip realized it wouldn’t be an easy thing to find a lucky charm. Suddenly, an awful thought struck him. What if he needed some good luck to find a good luck charm? This confused Philip. If he had enough good luck to find a good luck charm, did it mean he already had good luck and didn’t need a lucky charm? The more Philip considered, the more perplexed he became. He already knew he had bad luck—look at the day he had, losing candy and getting scolded by Mr. Ware. If that was the only kind of luck he had, he’d never find a good luck charm. But did he really need good luck to find a good luck charm? This puzzle made Philip’s head hurt like it hurt when his father asked him: which came first; the chicken or the egg? Philip figured one of them had to, but which one since you couldn’t have one without the other?
“Think about it,” his father commanded and then walked away laughing.
If he could figure out which came first, he might figure out whether he needed good luck to find a good luck charm. Maybe Emery knew which came first. Philip went downstairs and phoned Emery.
“Hi, Philip. What do you want?”
“I want to know which came first. The chicken or the egg?”
“What?”
“I’m still trying to find a lucky charm, and I need to know which came first. The chicken or the egg?”
“Are you going to carry an egg in your pocket for good luck? What if it breaks?”
“No, I’m not going to carry an egg around. Don’t be dumb.”
“You’re not gonna walk around with a chicken, are you?”
“What a stupid question! No, I’m not gonna walk around with a chicken. Where would I get a chicken?”
“The supermarket has them.”
“Yeah, right. I’m gonna walk around with a dead chicken wrapped in plastic around my neck and expect to be lucky.” Philip raised his voice, as often happened when he tried to have a serious discussion with Emery. “Listen, I need to know what came first. The chicken or the egg?”
After a moment of quiet Emery said, “Is it a boy chicken or a girl chicken?”
“What difference does it make?” Philip cried in exasperation. Why couldn’t he ever get a straight answer from Emery?
“Because a boy chicken couldn’t lay an egg so the egg had to come first ‘cause it couldn’t ever come second.”
“So the boy chicken came from the egg?”
“No, it probably came from a farm.”
“What do you mean, it came from a farm? Didn’t the boy chicken come from an egg?”
“Only if there was a girl chicken who laid the egg, so the boy chicken wouldn’t have been first or second. He would have been third.”
“Who said anything about a girl chicken?”
“Me. There’s gotta be a girl chicken. If there were only boy chickens there could never be any eggs. Boy chickens don’t lay eggs.”
“All right. All right. No boy chicken. It’s a girl chicken. Which came first? The girl chicken or the egg?”
Emery thought a minute. “People eat eggs. Maybe the egg wouldn’t last long enough to hatch a girl chicken because somebody scrambled it. So the egg had to come first.”
“Who’s talking about scrambling eggs? People eat chickens, too. Suppose the girl chicken got eaten; then there wouldn’t be any eggs. So I guess the chicken came first.”
“People don’t eat live chickens.”
“I know that!” Philip yelled into the phone.
“So if the girl chicken was alive to start with and nobody ate her, she’d lay eggs. So I guess the chicken came first.”
“I just said that!”
Philip’s mother called in to him. “Stop that yelling, Philip.”
“So the answer’s easy,” Emery concluded. “If people ate the chicken there wouldn’t be an egg. If people ate the egg there wouldn’t be a chicken.”
“Oh, that’s the answer, you think? Everybody’s eating everything and nothing came second?”
“I gotta go. You’re making me hungry. See you tomorrow.”
“Emery, just tell me what came first . . .”
Philip had a dial to
ne in his ear. He replaced the phone and decided that asking Emery for help proved he had the worst luck of anybody in the world. He decided he didn’t care whether chickens or eggs came first or second as long as he found a good luck piece somewhere in his house. He’d keep looking.
Chapter Four
Philip sat on the edge of his bed to think. He knew all of the things in his room. If something in his room brought luck, he would already be having it. No, nothing in his room would be any help.
He thought back. Had anyone played over his house lately and left something behind? No, no one visited lately, and even if someone had visited, his mother probably already cleaned up and threw out anything she didn’t recognize.
Philip walked down the hallway to his baby sister’s room. Becky lay sleeping in her crib. She had a room full of toys, baby toys. Philip couldn’t imagine good luck coming from anything a baby had slobbered on, so he proceeded on to the big bedroom at the end of the hall where his parents slept. The vacuum cleaner stood in the middle of the room, and cardboard boxes were spread out over the floor and the bed.
“Don’t mess up in there,” Philip heard his mother say from behind him as she climbed the stairs.
Philip stared into the room. “It’s messed up already. What are you doing?”
Philip’s mother peeked into the baby’s room before joining Philip. “Shhh. Becky’s still sleeping. I’ll vacuum when she wakes up. I’m cleaning out the closets—the accumulated junk of the ages. How this all gets saved year after year is a mystery to me. Your father will have to go through this pile of junk and throw out whatever he doesn’t want.”
“If it’s all junk, why would he want any of it?” Philip asked.
His mother gave him a look. “Junk to me is gold to him. If half of it gets thrown out, I’ll declare it a victory.”
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