by Marty Chan
“No,” I said. “If it weren’t for the broken cuffs, we wouldn’t have found a new way to do the act.”
“I knew that we weren’t ready to go on. If we’d had another week to work on everything, I would have found out the latch was broken. Then we wouldn’t have looked like idiots onstage.”
“You’re too hard on yourself,” I said. “Don’t you remember what Peter talked about at the magic club? You have to prepare outs in case things go wrong. And I came up with a new ending. And the seniors loved it. Didn’t you hear them?”
“I was in the mailbag,” he said. “I was too busy trying to get the cuffs to open.”
“Trust me, they loved us,” I said.
“But I didn’t do the escape properly,” he said. “How could they love us?”
“I wish you could have seen the crowd during the show. They were howling. We could have done anything and they would have cheered,” I said.
Min grumbled, “Come on, we didn’t have a proper ending. I didn’t even escape. How on earth do you expect me to believe that the audience liked our act?”
“Did you hear Mags?” I asked.
He scrunched his face. “The woman who said she’d get you her husband’s magic books?”
I nodded. “You heard what else she said, right? We were her favorite act.”
“She probably knew that your mom is the manager here. She’s sucking up so she can get another pudding cup or something,” he said.
“You are the most stubborn…” I said, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to fight. “What’s it going to take to convince you the audience loved us?”
“Nothing,” Min said. “All I need to know is right here.” He held up the broken handcuffs. “They hated me.”
“Forget the cuffs,” I said. “We have the makings of a great comedy magic act.”
“I don’t think I want to try out for the talent show anymore,” he said.
“Don’t give up now, Min. We can get new handcuffs so we can keep practicing.”
Min shook his head. “Maybe it’s better if we do separate acts,” he said. “You are way better on your own, and I need more time to make sure I get the magic right.”
Min turned the handcuffs over and over in his hands, as if twisting them could make them work again.
I had to do something. “If I convince you people liked our act,” I said, “will you promise to keep working on it?”
“How are you going to do that?” he asked.
“I’ll prove it to you,” I said. “Follow me.”
Chapter Eight
Min and I stood in Mom’s office. She was on the phone. Min shuffled a deck of cards, something he always did when he was nervous. I leaned against the filing cabinet and flicked the dust off the leaves of Mom’s fake plant.
Min leaned forward. “This isn’t fair. Your mom will take your side no matter what we ask.”
“No way,” I said. “She’s always been straight with me.”
“Really? You’re telling me that your mom is going to tell you that you suck at magic? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes, Min. Remember what she said after the first show?”
He swung one half of the deck from the bottom onto the top with just one hand. “She said we had some kinks to work out, but she also said she trusted us to know what was best.”
“See?” I said. “Mom told us we had a problem, just in a nice way. Trust me, she’ll tell us the truth about the second show.”
Min sighed. “I still think it sucked as bad as the first one.”
“Not even close,” I said. “The shows were as different as eggplant and pizza.”
“Huh?” Min nearly dropped his cards.
“Which one would you rather eat?” I asked.
He mumbled, “Pizza.”
I nodded. “And that’s what the second show was to the seniors. Pizza.”
Min said nothing. Instead he started spreading the cards in his hands again. His card fans were always so smooth and perfect. I had to admit I was a little bit jealous of his talent.
Finally Mom finished her phone call. She hung up and walked around the desk. “Kylie, Min. You two were fantastic,” she said. “What you did was amazing. The residents loved it.”
“Great,” I said. “Which show did you like the best?”
“Be honest,” Min added.
Mom sat on the edge of the desk. “Well, it’s just my opinion, but I liked the second one. The first one? Um, let’s just say you two bounced back from defeat.”
Min stared at Mom, then back at me before he turned to Mom again.
“They liked the second show? Are you sure?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’ve hired a lot of acts over the years, and I’ve learned one thing about my group. They will let me know what they like and don’t like. They don’t have time to put up with bad performers. And I’m telling you that they loved the second show.”
Min chewed his bottom lip. “Are you just saying that to make Kylie feel good?”
Mom laughed. “No, she bombed in the first show. You can make them laugh, sweetie, but Min having to rescue you out of that bag? Not very magical.”
“Ouch,” I said. “You could have put a little sugar on that lemon.”
She gave me a hug. “You’re tough. I know you can take it.”
“What if she’d gotten the escape right?” Min asked. “I’ll bet the seniors would have loved the first show then.”
Mom smiled. “Hard to say, Min. Why do you ask?”
“Min doesn’t think we did so hot in the second show,” I explained.
“Go ask the seniors. They’ll tell you. But if you ask me, the second time was great. It was entertaining and funny. I could probably line up more shows at some of the other homes. Just say the word, and I’ll make the calls.”
“Really?” I said. “That would be awe—”
Min cut me off. “We’ll have to talk about it.”
Mom shrugged. “You’d be a hit.”
“We’ll think about it,” Min said. “Thanks for the offer.”
He headed out of the office. I chased after him and grabbed him by the arm.
“Don’t tell me you’re walking away from the chance of a lifetime,” I said.
“Your mom said we should talk to the seniors. I want to hear what they thought. Straight from the source.”
“You heard what my mom said,” I pointed out. “Don’t you believe her?”
He crossed his arms. “A mom is always going to take the side of their kid. I have to know for sure. From people you don’t know.”
I sighed. “Okay, Min. Let’s go ask some of them.”
“Not the woman who’s going to give you her husband’s magic books either. I want someone you didn’t talk to.”
“Fine, fine. You can ask whoever you want,” I said.
We headed out into the main living area. A few seniors were chatting near the entrance doors. Min walked right up to them and stared until they looked up.
A tall thin man smiled at us. “Oh, look, it’s the magic kids.”
Min cleared his throat. “Yes. Excuse me, but we were hoping to get some feedback on our shows. Did you see the one just now or the one before?”
“I saw the one just now. Abby was with me,” the old man said.
The shorter woman nodded.
The lady in a wheelchair beside the pair said, “I saw the one before.”
“Good,” Min said. “What did you think of our shows?”
“You were good,” the man said.
Abby grabbed my hand. “You were great!” She nodded at Min. “And you were really good too.”
Min’s shoulders slumped. “Thanks,” he mumbled as he walked away.
I glanced at the lady in the wheelchair. She tried to look away.
“And you, ma’am? You said you saw the first show. What did you think of it?” I asked.
She paused for what seemed like forever. Finally she said, “I thought your costum
es looked very nice.”
“Anything else?” Min asked.
She cleared her throat. “I liked your hair too.”
Ouch. That was not a great review. “Um…thanks,” I said.
I chased after Min and caught up to him in the dining hall as he grabbed his suitcase of props.
“So?” I asked. “Now do you believe me? And my mom? And everyone else who loved the show?”
“I don’t want to do the act,” he said. “The handcuffs didn’t work. The act sucked.”
Min wasn’t listening to anyone. Not to me. Not to Mom. Not to the seniors who’d raved about the show. He seemed so down on everything.
“Min, what’s really bothering you?” I asked.
“I just don’t like the act, that’s all,” he said.
“They loved us. They laughed all the way through.”
Min shook his head. “Kylie, you’re going by their laughs. We have no idea if they were laughing with us or at us.”
“Why does that matter?” I asked.
He stared at me, his eyes wide. “I looked stupid in front of everyone,” he said. “I hated it. They were laughing at me like I was a fool.”
I hadn’t thought about Min’s feelings. I’d loved the spotlight so much I hadn’t stopped to think about what it would cost my friend.
“I’m sorry, Min. I didn’t want you to look bad,” I said.
“You didn’t have to make me look bad,” he said. “I did that all on my own when I couldn’t do the escape.”
“You couldn’t help it. The handcuffs broke at the worst time, that’s all,” I said. “And you still got out of the mailbag. That’s way more than I did.”
“But it robbed me of my ‘wow’ moment,” he said.
“What?”
He explained, “You know that feeling you get when you pull off a trick perfectly? For a second, people believe magic is real. I didn’t get that moment.”
“But we can get another pair of handcuffs,” I said. “Then we can have that cool ending that you want. You will get your ‘wow’ moment.”
“No, Kylie,” Min said. “I’m done.”
“Don’t quit on me,” I begged. “We can rebuild the act, get new handcuffs, work out the hiccups.”
Min shook his head. “It’s not going to work.”
“Mom said she can book us a show next week,” I said. “That’s another chance to get it right. I promise you I’ll get you that ‘wow’ moment.”
“Why does this matter so much to you?” he asked.
“You’re not the only one who wants that ‘wow’ moment,” I said. “At least you get it in the magic club when you show off your tricks. Peter’s always picking apart what I do.”
“I think your magic is awesome,” Min said.
“I want to show everyone what I can do at the talent show,” I said. “So Peter can shut up for once. Come on, Min. We’ll practice. We’ll only do the show for the seniors if we get the escape right twenty times in a row.”
“Thirty,” he said.
I nodded. “As many as it takes. Min, you know I’d never want you to look stupid onstage. You’re my best friend.”
“You promise?” he asked.
I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “I’d do anything for you. What do you say, Min?” I asked.
“Okay,” Min said. “I’ll give it a try. I’m in.”
Chapter Nine
For the rest of the week, Min and I worked on our new act in my living room. The audience had loved it when I had to stall for time. But we had to figure out a way to make Min look less like a clown and more like a magician.
“How about this?” Min said. “You could tie some extra knots in the rope or pull out an extra chain to wrap me up in. Something I didn’t expect.”
I sat up on the couch, excited. “Ooh, I love that idea.”
“Except…you’re my assistant,” he said. “Why would you do that to me?”
“I know!” I shouted. “Maybe we play off the idea of how you treat me as the assistant.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how in every big magic act, the magician gets all the glory?” I said. “But it’s the assistant who does all the work. She prances around the stage in a sparkly dress, waving her arms around to distract people. And the magician doesn’t even give her a name. He just calls her his lovely assistant.”
“That’s the way it’s always been done,” he said. “The assistant is the helper.”
I shook my head. “They get treated like a prop. Maybe my character is sick and tired of being ignored. Now she wants the spotlight.”
He jumped up from the couch. “Oh, I get it. You get to stick it to me for all the times I’ve taken you for granted.”
“Yeah, you won’t let me get my moment to shine,” I said. “You boss me around like I’m your lackey, and that’s why I get my revenge on you. An extra knot or two.”
“Or three!” Min said.
I beamed. “Exactly. Treat me the same way Peter does at the magic club. Like he’s talking down to a little kid every time he gives feedback.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that. You and Dana get it the worst.”
“Did you see how Peter talked down to her at the tryout?” I asked.
“Yeah. I felt bad for her,” Min said.
“I think we set up your character to be more like Peter right from the start, so I have a reason to mess up your escape.”
“But then I look like a jerk,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but the audience will get on your side when I try to mess you up,” I said. “They’ll think I made it impossible for you to escape. That’s why you’ll look like a real magician when you get out.”
“Okay, but do I have to be mean to you?” Min asked.
“The meaner, the better for the act. Just talk down to me. Pretend you’re Peter talking to me or Dana.”
“I guess I could try,” he said. “Kylie, one question. How will the audience know that the extra knots aren’t part of the regular act?”
“Well, while I’m tying you up, I can let the audience in on it. Maybe I can wink at them or roll my eyes when you talk down to me,” I said. “Then, once you’re inside the mailbag, I can tell everyone my master plan. About how you’ve treated me so badly, and this is my chance to get even.”
“Maybe take it easy on me being the jerk,” Min said.
“Don’t you worry,” I said. “The more I want revenge on you, the better you’ll look when you escape.”
“I’m not so sure about this,” he said.
“Trust me. It’ll be great for the act. Now I just have to figure out what to do while you’re in the mailbag. I think stealing the watch worked last time. What do you think, Min? Do that one again?”
Min shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, Kylie. It’s a great trick, but not everyone wears a watch. What’s your backup?”
“Oh yeah, I hadn’t thought about that. If no one’s wearing one, I can do the Rubik’s Cube instant solve.”
Min nodded. “I love that trick. Can you get someone in the crowd to mix the cube up?”
“I could do that, but I’d need a bag for the solve,” I said. “I guess I could leave one by the timer. How much time do you want in the sack?”
“I guess enough time for you to do two tricks for the audience,” Min said. “Any longer and the audience might get bored.”
“Makes sense. I’ll have to work the script so that I can set up either the watch or the cube trick at the same time. Oh, and I should also get in some digs at you for how you treated me as your lovely assistant,” I said.
“Maybe stick to the idea that you always wanted to be the star of the show,” he said.
I started to pace around the living room table as I came up with more script ideas. “No, I’ll poke fun at your breath or how you never wash your tuxedo.”
“Maybe tease me about how I’m never going to escape,” Min said.
“Yeah. I could say you’ll have to beg
me to be set free.”
“That’s not bad,” he said. “And I could ask if you did something weird to the rope or the handcuffs. To really sell the idea that you did something to screw me up.”
“Me?” I said, now pretending we were doing the act. “Why on earth would you ever think I would mess with your escape?” I batted my eyes at Min. “After all, I’m your lovely assistant.”
He played along. “Kylie! What did you do to the ropes?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get out. After all, you are Magnificent Min. Now, why don’t you folks sit back and relax? It may take a while. In fact, let’s kill time with a trick. Something I’ve always wanted to do.”
Min clapped. “That’s great. I love it.”
I continued, pretending to talk to an invisible audience. “Don’t mind the screaming coming from the mailbag. Min likes to hear himself talk. He’s a legend when it comes to magic. He tells me so every single day. Every single hour of the day.”
“Um, do you think that’s a bit much, Kylie?”
“Hey, Magnificent Min,” I said. “Do you remember that time you stuffed me in the box and sawed me in half? Well, this is for all the hours I had to spend in that cramped thing.”
He shook his head. “Wait. I never did that.”
“I know. Roll with it,” I said. “It’s part of our backstory.”
“Oh, right,” Min said.
“And when you had me swap places with the tiger?” I said. “I have scratch marks on my scratch marks. Well, this is my revenge.”
“Okay, okay, I think you’ve got it,” Min said.
“Hold on, Min,” I said. “Do you know what would be really funny? If you came out in just your underwear.”
“Um, why?” Min asked.
“Maybe while I was tying you up, I undid your belt,” I said. “That would be hilarious.”
He fell silent.
“Maybe we could get some boxers. You know, the one with hearts on them. What do you think, Min?”
“I think it’s too much, Kylie,” he said.
“No way. It’s the perfect punch line, you coming out of the mailbag in your underwear,” I said. “The audience will eat it up.”
