Philip and the Deadly Curse (9781619500426)

by Paulits, John

  “What is this stuff?”

  Philip’s mother sighed, shook her head, and rolled her eyes. “Memories of his childhood. Sentimental value, he says.” She bent over a box on the bed and started separating the good from the bad. Philip knelt down on the floor next to his father’s pile. He saw some old baseball cards of players he never heard of; a few old photographs of people he didn’t know; and lots of meaningless other things. When he lifted a small notebook, something round and shiny and a little bigger than a quarter caught his eye. Philip picked it up with two fingers, and when he tilted it back and forth in the light, strange, creamy swirls seemed to move around on the surface. Dull silver metal covered the back.

  “What’s this?” Philip asked, holding the shiny disc up for his mother to see.

  She glanced back. “From your father’s stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll have to ask him when he gets home.”

  Philip stood up with the disc in his hand. When he turned toward the door, a flash of color from the top of his father’s dresser caught his eye. Philip reached for it. A red Jolly Rancher!

  “Where’d this come from?” Philip asked excitedly.

  “I found it downstairs after you left for school. Here’s another one.” She reached into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out a yellow Jolly Rancher.

  His two lost Jolly Ranchers! Philip took the candy from his mother and stared at the swirling, colorful disc in his hand. Hmmmm.

  Chapter Five

  “Philip,” said Mr. Felton, “what you have in your hand is what I called my Moon Charm. My friends and I used it as a good luck piece when I was about your age. You know, like a rabbit’s foot.” The phone rang and Philip’s father went to answer it, but Philip had heard all he needed to hear. This had to be the good luck charm he’d been looking for; and even better, a good luck charm that ran in his family!

  The Moon Charm. Philip liked the sound of it so much he repeated it again and again—The Mooooooon Charm—as he waggled the shiny disc in the light. He headed for his bedroom, but stopped midway up the stairs as a wondrous and magical chill swept over him. With this charm he would never have bad luck again!

  ****

  “I can’t find my homework,” Philip whispered to Emery next day when Mr. Ware asked the class to pass their homework forward.

  “Did you do it?” Emery whispered back.

  “Would I be looking for it if I didn’t do it?” Philip reached into his pocket to touch the Moon Charm, but his pocket was empty! Panic shot through him! He didn’t lose his Moon Charm already, did he? Life could not be so cruel to him; his bad luck could not be that powerful. But the Moon Charm was gone. What a disaster!

  “I don’t see your homework here, Philip.” Mr. Ware said, thumbing through the papers from his aisle.

  “I can’t find it,” Philip explained in a tiny voice. “But I did it.” He shrugged.

  “Give it to me tomorrow then, Philip.” Mr. Ware smiled at him.

  He’s in an awfully good mood, Philip thought, puzzled. Could the Moon Charm have so much good luck that even from a distance it made Mr. Ware smile rather than scold? If it was that powerful Philip knew he had to find the Moon Charm and glue it to his arm if necessary.

  Philip concentrated and tried to remember what he’d done with the Moon Charm that morning, but he couldn’t picture doing anything with it. He reached down into his pocket and felt for a hole. No, no hole so the Moon Charm could not have dropped out. His homework and the Moon Charm had to be back in his bedroom. They better be, Philip thought, his stomach twirling in distress at the thought of losing the Moon Charm less than twenty-four hours after he found it.

  Then Philip remembered! He’d taken the Moon Charm the night before and rubbed it over his homework, twice over the math he struggled with, to ensure he got everything right. He recalled putting the homework and the Moon Charm down on his desk when his mother called him to take a bath. Obviously, he forgot to put the homework back into his schoolbag and the Moon Charm back into his pocket. Philip watched the clock all day, counting the minutes until he could rush home and check.

  Philip flew up the stairs when he reached home and there they were, lying on his desk—the Moon Charm and his homework! He stuck the charm deep into his pocket and put his homework into his schoolbag right away.

  “Philip,” Mrs. Felton called from downstairs.

  Philip ran to the top of the stairway. “What do you want, Mom?”

  “Emery’s here. Come on down.”

  Philip felt his pocket again to check on the Moon Charm and then he went downstairs to his friend.

  “Hi, Emery.”

  “Hi, Philip. What do you want to do?”

  Philip thought a moment. He had never beaten Emery in chess. If he challenged Emery to a chess match and won, it would prove the Moon Charm’s power . . . but maybe checkers might be easier. He beat Emery sometimes at checkers. Philip considered the possibilities and realized if he beat Emery at checkers, he wouldn’t know whether the Moon Charm was the reason or not. Then he recalled he had never beaten Emery twice in a row at checkers. If he could win twice in a row, it could only be because of the Moon Charm’s power. If it worked on checkers, then he could move up to chess.

  “Let’s play checkers,” Philip suggested, slipping his hand into his pocket and giving the Moon Charm a twirl.

  “Okay,” said Emery.

  As the boys climbed the stairs to Philip’s room, Philip noticed Emery slip his left hand into his pocket. Ha! Emery had his troll with him and planned to use the troll’s good luck power to help him win at checkers! It would be a battle between the power of Emery’s troll and the power—the super power, Philip hoped, of his Moon Charm.

  Philip set up the checkerboard, and Emery took the black pieces without comment. Yes! His first piece of luck, Philip realized, since he always preferred playing the red pieces. The charm was bubbling! Philip made the first move. Then Emery moved. Back and forth the game went. Soon, Emery had three kings left to Philip’s two kings.

  “What are you doing?” Philip asked when he saw Emery slip his left hand into his pocket again.

  Emery pulled his hand out quickly. “Nothing. My leg itched. I think I got a rash.”

  Philip snorted in disbelief and moved his gaze to his two kings. His move.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Emery demanded.

  Without thinking, Philip had slipped his hand into his pocket and let his fingers touch the Moon Charm.

  “Nothing,” Philip blurted and yanked his hand free.

  “You put your hand in your pocket.”

  “My leg itches, too. You don’t have the only itchy leg in the world, you know. I probably caught your stupid rash. Stop making noise and let me think.” He moved one of his kings away from Emery’s kings.

  As Emery studied Philip’s move, Philip noticed Emery’s hand creep toward his pants pocket again.

  “Hey, you already scratched your leg. It can’t itch anymore.”

  “It’s my leg. I can scratch it if I want to, even if it doesn’t itch. Maybe I just want to keep it from itching later. Rashes are funny things.”

  “Well I can scratch my leg if I want to even if it doesn’t itch and keep my leg from itching later, too. My rash is as funny as yours.”

  Each boy thrust a hand defiantly into a pocket.

  With his free hand Emery made his move and trapped one of Philip’s kings. Philip saw no matter what space he moved his king to, Emery would be able to jump him. He backed up his other king one space.

  Emery took his hand out of his pocket, and when he did, Philip could see yellow troll hair poking out of Emery’s fist.

  “Hey!” Philip shouted and pointed an accusing finger.

  Emery shoved his hand back into his pocket. “Hey what? It’s nothing.”

  “Does your rash have yellow hair? It’s your troll. Your good luck piece. You’re using your good luck to try to win this game.”

  “So w
hat?” Emery argued. “That’s what a good luck piece is for, isn’t it?”

  Philip had had enough. Like a Wild West gunfighter he slowly drew his Moon Charm from his pocket and, with a sharp click, put it down on the table right in front of him. He looked Emery in the eye and said, “I don’t care what you have. I have my own lucky charm now.”

  Emery stared at the glittery, shimmering disc. “What is it? Where’d you get it?”

  “From my dad and it’s a better good luck charm than a troll.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Emery. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his troll, and stood it next to the checkerboard. Emery studied the checkerboard and moved one of his kings toward Philip’s untrapped king.

  Philip backed his king away another space.

  Emery moved his king closer.

  After two more moves Philip’s king ran out of back-up spaces, and both his men were trapped!

  Emery smiled and returned his troll to his pocket. “You lose. I guess you better look for a different good luck charm. Yours doesn’t work.”

  “It does work,” said Philip with determination. “It just doesn’t want to waste its power on something stupid like a checker game. You’ll see. Wait till something really important comes along. You’ll see how much good luck it gives me then.”

  Emery thought a moment. “How about tomorrow’s spelling bee in school?”

  Philip had forgotten and his spirits fell. Mr. Ware had promised to line the class up along the wall the next day and test them on how much spelling they’d learned. Philip knew he had not done a whole lot of studying. It would take a barrelful of good luck for him to do well in the spelling bee.

  “Maybe we should both study a little,” Philip suggested quietly. “You know. Help the good luck out.”

  “Okay, let’s study till I have to go home for dinner.”

  “I’ll go get the list of words,” Philip said, the checker game forgotten.

  Chapter Six

  Mr. Ware had given each student in the class a sheet of paper with four long rows of spelling words. Philip got his and said, “How shall we do this?”

  “Let’s do it like a real spelling test. Get paper and write one to ten. I’ll say words and you write them. Then you do me.”

  Philip got some paper from his loose-leaf book. He numbered the test and said, “Go ahead.”

  Emery started at the top of column one. Philip listened and wrote as Emery pronounced each word. After the tenth word he pushed his paper across to Emery.

  “Check it,” he said.

  Emery went back and forth between the test and the word list. When he finished, he wrote something across the top of Philip’s paper and pushed it back to him.

  Philip looked at what Emery had written. “Excellant.”

  “You got them all right,” Emery congratulated. “Now do me.”

  Philip scanned the word list and gave Emery ten of the hardest words he could find. Emery wrote them down and pushed his paper back to Philip.

  Philip examined the paper and a smile crept over his face. Emery watched as Philip put a big red X next to the word serpent. Emery had spelled it serpant.

  “Oh,” said Emery. “Sometimes I get Es and As mixed up. Okay, you again.”

  Emery continued down the first column of words and time after time pushed Philip’s paper back to him with excellant written across the top. Philip searched for the most difficult words on the list, and on each try Emery got one or two words wrong and Philip marked them with a big red X.

  Finally, the boys got tired of testing, and Emery folded all his papers and put them into his pocket.

  “What are you going to do with them?” Philip asked.

  “Now I know which words I need to study. I just have to learn the words you put an X next to.”

  “Ha! I guess I don’t have to study anything. I got everything right.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t do the hard ones you gave me or any of the words we skipped.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Philip smiled and patted his pocket.

  The boys parted.

  The next morning Philip checked his pocket six times before he left for school. He checked his schoolbag for yesterday’s homework and today’s homework. Walking to school, he felt his pocket seven more times to be certain the Moon Charm hadn’t fallen out.

  Finally, in the middle of the morning, Mr. Ware said, “Clear your desks, everyone.”

  Philip put his math book away and checked his pocket again.

  “Did you study after I went home?” Emery whispered.

  “Nope, didn’t need to,” Philip boasted. He wondered how Emery would feel when the lame luck of his troll got him sent back to his seat where he could watch the Moon Charm power its way to victory.

  Emery shrugged. “I studied some.”

  Mr. Ware’s voice interrupted them. “Rows one, two and three line up along this wall. Rows four, five and six line up along the back.”

  Emery sat in row three and Philip sat in row four, so they separated. When they found their spots, their eyes met. Emery made a sly okay sign and tapped his pocket. Philip did the same back. The spelling bee began.

  Some children dropped out on the very first round, but not Philip or Emery. They both made it through the second and third rounds. Philip anxiously wondered which would prove stronger: the Moon Charm or the troll.

  Neither boy had a problem in rounds four and five, and when round five ended only six children remained standing. Philip saw Emery make a fist on the outside of pants pocket, and he knew Emery was squeezing his troll for good luck.

  Mr. Ware smiled and said, “Let me congratulate the six of you for doing so well.”

  Philip made a fist outside of his pants pocket and wrapped his fingers around the Moon Charm. The solid feel of his shiny, magical disc gave him confidence. He knew his good luck would triumph over Emery’s troll and allow him to spell any word the teacher came up with.

  “We’ve used up the words from the list, but we’ll keep going with words you haven’t studied yet,” Mr. Ware continued. “We’ll test you on these surprise, difficult words until we get a winner. Philip, Julie, come on over and stand with the rest along the wall. Then we’ll all be together.”

  Philip gladly joined Emery and the other finalists.

  “Ready?” Mr. Ware asked. “Delicious.”

  Philip’s heart dropped. Could he spell delicious? He knew the shus at the end would be tricky. Fortunately, he stood fifth in line, just before Emery, so maybe somebody would spell delicious by then.

  The first two people, Mikey and Shelley, missed the word. Then Susan, the smartest girl in class, tried.

  “d-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s,” she said.

  “Good for you, Susan,” said Mr. Ware.

  Philip breathed easier. Thank heaven for Susan, the class brain.

  “Tremendous,” said Mr. Ware.

  The next girl, Ellen, left out the O at the end of the word and had to sit down. Philip knew if tremendous wasn’t spelled U-S at the end it had to be spelled with O-U-S, so he included the O and survived. Now only Susan, Philip, and Emery stood along the wall.

  Philip squeezed the Moon Charm and wished for Emery to get a hard word. Mr. Ware said, “Accident.”

  Philip listened as Emery included both Cs and put the I and E in the proper order. Mr. Ware congratulated him, and said, “Susan, back to you. Spell the word excellent.”

  Philip’s eyebrows rose. He could see the word clearly before him! Good old Emery! He’d written the word six times for him yesterday on their practice tests! He held the Moon Charm tightly and hoped Susan botched the word.

  Susan squished her eyes closed. “e-x-s-e-l-l . . . no.” She paused. “e-s-x-e- . . . no.”

  “Time is almost up, Susan.”

  Philip squeezed the Moon Charm hard and thought, Mess it up, Susan. Mess it up!

  He had to get that word—that oh-so-easy word!

  Susan shook her head sadly, said, “I can’t,” a
nd walked slowly back to her seat.

  Thank you, Moon Charm! Thank you, Susan. Thank you, Emery!

  “Very good try, Susan, but you may still have a chance. If both Emery and Philip misspell excellent, you’ll come back up until we find a word only one of you can spell.”

  Susan nodded glumly.

  Before Mr. Ware could even repeat the word to him, Philip blurted out, “e-x-c-e-l-l-a-n-t.” He beamed a wide smile and waited for Mr. Ware’s compliment.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Philip. That’s close, but not quite right. You try, Emery.”

  Philip couldn’t believe his ears. That’s not quite right? He could see the word Emery wrote on his papers floating right before his eyes. What did Mr. Ware mean, That’s not quite right?

  Emery cleared his throat. “e-x-c-e-l-l-e-n-t.” He and Philip both looked expectantly at Mr. Ware and waited.

  “Yes!” bubbled Mr. Ware. “Very good, Emery. You are the class spelling bee champion. And your prize is . . .” Mr. Ware looked over the class to add to the suspense. “. . . you may take the weekend off from homework.” A jealous groan came from the class.

  Both boys returned to their seats and since there were only a few minutes until lunch, Mr. Ware let the children buzz about the contest and let off a little steam. Philip reached into his desk and pulled some papers out of his binder. He shook them at Emery and glared.

  “What’s the matter?” Emery asked.

  “Look at these papers. You wrote excellant on these papers yesterday. Look, look. Excellant. Excellant. Excellant. Six times!”

  “I know. You got everything right. They were excellent.”

  “Yeah, they were excellent, not excellant.”

  “What do you mean they were excellent, not excellent. You’re not making any sense.”

  “They’re excellent—E-N-T; not excellant—A-N-T. Today I spelled excellent the way you spelled it yesterday—with an A and not an E. Today you spelled it with an E instead of an A. You made me get it wrong. It’s your fault. How come you couldn’t spell it right yesterday, but today you can?”

  Emery shrugged. “I told you. It’s those Es and As. Sometimes I get them mixed up, and sometimes they come out all right.”