by Kara LaReau
“Thanks!” said Kale. She reached into her backpack, took out Professor Magic’s Rules of Illusion, and handed it to Magique.
“No, you keep it,” the magician said. “It’s the least I can do, to thank you for all your help.”
Albertine helped the Bland Sisters into the cabinet as Magique addressed the audience.
“Now, watch as these two are transported to another world!” she said. Then she drew the Bland Sisters close and whispered, “Remember, don’t ever tell anyone how my cabinet works. You two are magician’s assistants for life now, so you’re sworn to uphold the Oath. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Jaundice and Kale.
“Be sure to tell your parents I said thanks, whenever you see them again,” Magique said. “I really owe them for sending you along—I can’t think of a better way to get to know my nieces.”
“Wait,” said Jaundice. “So you really are Aunt Shallot?”
“I told you ‘Shallot’ sounded fuddy-duddy,” she reminded them. “I left that name behind long ago. I only answer to Magique now. At some point, we all have to embrace who we really are!”
“That’s true,” said Jaundice.
“We’ve always embraced our Blandness. That’s who we are,” Kale said. “Isn’t it?”
Their aunt laughed. “If there’s one thing I hope you’ve learned, it’s that nothing is as it seems,” she said. And then she closed the cabinet doors.
Inside, it was dark and stuffy. For a few moments, Jaundice and Kale heard murmuring outside, and swelling music . . . and then, they heard nothing.
“It seems so quiet out there,” said Kale.
“Almost too quiet. Do you think that’s our cue to get out?” said Jaundice. Slowly, she opened the door.
“Where is Magique—I mean, Aunt Shallot?” asked Kale, looking around. “I wish we had time to get to know her, as our aunt, and not as a great detective, or even a great magician. I have so many questions.”
“Me, too,” said Jaundice. “For instance, where are we?”
The Bland Sisters looked around. Somehow, they emerged not from the disappearing cabinet, but from a storage locker at the Dullsville Train Station.
“Whoa. Now that’s magic,” said Kale.
“Shall we go home?” asked Jaundice.
“Yes, let’s,” said Kale. “I’ve had enough of mysteries and magic.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Jaundice said. “Though, speaking of magic, it was nice to see Magique and Albertine onstage together. They seemed so happy.”
“Well, they both love magic. They have that in common. We’re not like our family at all,” Kale noted.
“True,” Jaundice admitted.
As the Bland Sisters started walking, Jaundice reached into her smock pocket, pulled out the remaining length of string, and began tying a series of complicated knots. Kale reviewed her notes of the day’s observations. They really were quite thorough.
As she read, she couldn’t help twirling her pen.
Professor Magic’s Rules of Illusion
When something goes wrong during your act, keep going.
You will probably be the only one to notice.
When the Bland Sisters saw their house again at last, it was not the relief they hoped it would be. Right away, they could tell something was wrong.
“Something is wrong,” Jaundice said, as they walked up the driveway.
“I’d say more than one thing is wrong,” said Kale.
The front door was off its hinges, the furniture was upturned, and the Bland Sisters’ lone ficus had been uprooted. Someone had torn up the couch cushions and scattered the stuffing. Even their beloved sock-darning basket was destroyed, and the socks, thread, needles, and scissors were strewn all over the floor.
“Our customers are not going to be happy about this,” Jaundice noted.
As she picked up the pieces of their broken darning egg, Kale sniffed the air.
“What’s that . . . smell?” she asked.
Jaundice sniffed, too.
“I didn’t take out the trash before we left,” Kale said, grimacing. “Serves me right, for forgetting one of Tillie’s Tips.”
Upstairs wasn’t as smelly, but the mess was even worse; the mattress was torn open with its springs hanging out, the suitcases were unzipped and the clothes inside torn to shreds, all of the boxes of books and papers and maps were toppled, and the chest containing the Bland Sisters’ parents’ travel souvenirs had been thrown open, the contents tossed and broken everywhere.
“All of their things,” Jaundice whispered. The Bland Sisters kneeled on the floor, their parents’ broken mementos and belongings all around them. Kale picked up what was left of one of their parents’ pillows. She gave it a good long sniff.
“Who would do this to them. And to us?” she said, handing the tattered pillow to Jaundice, who sniffed, too.
The Bland Sisters put their hands over their hearts.
“There’s that ache again,” said Jaundice. “It hurts, but it’s also kind of nice.”
“And it always seems to happen when we’re really thinking about our parents,” Kale noted.
“Do you think it means we might really . . . miss them?” Jaundice wondered.
The Bland Sisters blinked at each other.
“Whoa,” said Kale.
“I know,” said Jaundice. “We just solved another mystery. About ourselves.”
“Maybe it’s true, what our parents said in my dream,” said Kale. “Maybe we did pack them away. I mean, we did pack all their things away.”
“And we packed away how we felt about them, too. Until now,” Jaundice said. “I bet that’s why I keep dreaming about that phone that keeps ringing and ringing. It’s kind of nice that they keep reaching out to us.”
“Even if it is by sending us on adventures against our will,” Kale said. She looked around. “Oh, what a mess everything is. It’s going to take forever to clean up.” It was a dream come true for her, literally. Though, unlike in her dream, their parents weren’t trapped at the bottom of the debris.
“It sounds like someone is already vacuuming,” said Jaundice.
“If they are, that’s a really big vacuum,” said Kale. “And it’s coming from outside.”
The Bland Sisters went downstairs and opened the front door. An airplane could be seen circling overhead.
“I’m having a Feeling,” said Kale.
Just then, Miss Penny Post rode up on her bicycle.
“Good morning, ladies!” she said, reaching into her satchel and pulling out a letter. “This just came via Express.”
“So did we,” said Jaundice. “In a way.”
Kale took the envelope from Miss Post and looked at it. “It’s from our parents.”
With Jaundice looking over her shoulder, Kale opened the envelope and began reading. The handwriting looked even messier than usual, as if it had been written in a hurry.
Darlings,
We hope you enjoyed your time with Aunt Shallot (who, as you’ve now learned, goes by Magique), and we hope you’re not too mad at us for luring you into another adventure. Your father never really shared his sister’s (or his father’s) interest in magic, so we’re glad she could share it with you!
We don’t have much time to write, as we have to run—literally. We’re being chased by a certain someone we’ve been hiding from for years, and we have a feeling he might know about you two now, and where to find you. He’s just a little bit upset about the scarabs we stole from him (which weren’t really his to begin with, by the way), and he’ll do anything to get them back. But don’t worry—help is on the way! We’ve sent word to a good friend to come for you. We trust she’ll take you under her wing—or “wings,” to be more precise!
Looking forward to being reunited, and safe, soon!
Yours, from an undisclosed location,
Your parents
“I suppose we did enjoy our time with Aunt Shallot, even if we didn’t know she was Aun
t Shallot at the time,” Kale admitted. “Among other things, we learned to use our brains, to be observant and quick-thinking, and that we don’t like fluffernutters. Still, I’m glad to be home, even if it doesn’t look much like home now. Aren’t you, sister?”
But Jaundice wasn’t listening. Instead, she was reading something scrawled on the other side of the paper.
P.S. One of the scarabs should be on the desk in our study; we’ve just retrieved its twin. PLEASE put it close to your head at night—ideally, under your pillow. It allows us to talk with you in your dreams. (We’ll explain later.)
“Um . . . what does that mean?” asked Kale.
Jaundice fished around in one of her smock pockets.
“I know we haven’t read our dictionary in a while,” she said. “But isn’t a scarab a kind of . . . beetle?”
She pulled out the beetle paperweight she’d been carrying around.
“Uh-oh,” said Kale.
“All this time, our parents really were calling us,” Jaundice said.
There, on their front lawn, the airplane was now landing. Books and papers and maps from inside the house had tumbled out with Jaundice and Kale and were now blowing all over the lawn. Kale opened her backpack and scrambled to collect the ephemera, but to no avail. Her copy of Professor Magic’s Rules of Illusion fell out and was swept away, too.
“Farewell, Professor Magic!” she cried. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other better—especially now that I know you were probably my grandfather!”
The pilot of the plane soon slid her window open and shouted, “Your parents sent me! Get in!”
The Bland Sisters looked at each other.
“Are you talking to us?” Jaundice asked.
“Who else would I be talking to?” the pilot shouted. “Come on! We’ve no time to lose!”
The plane was bright blue, with a bird painted on its side, along with the word BLUEBIRD. The B was particularly prominent.
Jaundice gasped.
“‘Plan B,’” she whispered.
“I’m not really up for another adventure,” Kale admitted.
“Me, neither,” said Jaundice.
The Bland Sisters sighed.
Jaundice looked back at what remained of their once-cozy, once-safe home, and at all its contents destroyed or lost to the wind. She looked at the plane, and at the pilot waving frantically. Then she grabbed her sister’s hand.
“Hold on tight. Things are about to get interesting,” said Jaundice.
“I know,” said Kale. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Many thanks to everyone who continues to ride this train with me, particularly Barry Goldblatt, agent and creative conductor; the talented cherubs at Abrams/Amulet; Tamar Brazis, Queen of Magic; Jen Hill, the Fluff-O to my peanut butter; critique partners Anika Denise and Jamie Michalak, who always keep my writing—and my sanity!—on track; Rob McDonald, who wanted to be in one of my books (you're welcome); and Scott and Camden Bowers, my favorite traveling companions.
Kara LaReau was born and raised in Connecticut. She received her master’s in fine arts in writing, literature, and publishing from Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts, and later worked as an editor at Candlewick Press and at Scholastic Press. She is the author of The Unintentional Adventures of the Bland Sisters: The Jolly Regina, illustrated by Jen Hill; Ugly Fish: and Otto: The Boy Who Loved Cars, illustrated by Scott Magoon; and The Infamous Ratsos series, illustrated by Matt Myers. Kara lives in Providence, Rhode Island, with her husband and son.
Jen Hill is the illustrator of The Unintentional Adventures of the Bland Sisters: The Jolly Regina by Kara LaReau; Diana’s White House Garden by Elisa Carbone; and Doing Her Bit: A Story About the Woman’s Land Army of America by Erin Hagar. She is also the author and illustrator of Percy and TumTum: A Tale of Two Dogs. Jen is a graduate from the Rhode Island School of Design, where she studied children’s book illustration with David Macaulay and Judy Sue Goodwin Sturges. She lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and her intern, Little Bee, who is very helpful for a cat.
Loved the book?
Check out our entire catalog of great novels, graphic novels, and nonfiction for young adults and middle-grade readers at Amulet Books!
Hungry for more YA?
Take a
with sneak piques, behind-the-scenes, interviews and much more inspired by our latest YA books at piquebeyond.com!
