Mostly Ghostly Freaks and Shrieks
I took a deep breath. And stepped into the magic shop.
THE TINY STORE WAS jammed with people. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse of Ballantine the Nearly Amazing.
Magicians filled the aisles between the display cases of magic tricks. They were all talking at once. Talking about how their performances had gone and what Ballantine had said to them. Some looked happy. Some were shaking their heads sadly.
“Better luck next time,” a chubby bald man said to another chubby bald man. He squeezed the other man's shoulder—and a pigeon flew out from under the guy's coat!
Weird crowd, huh?
I gazed around quickly. Was I the only kid?
Yes!
That has to be good, I told myself. At least Ballantine will notice me.
The line of magicians waiting to perform snaked around to the back room. I peeked ahead. I saw a small stage with a dark blue curtain behind it. A magician in a red cape stood on the stage doing a trick with three big, silvery rings.
And seated across from the stage on a tall chair that looked like a throne—Ballantine himself!
Several people huddled around Ballantine, including Mr. and Mrs. Hocus, the owners of Hocus Pocus. They all stared straight ahead in total silence, watching the magician do his ring trick.
“My two-year-old can do that trick!” a magician in line ahead of me whispered. A few people snickered at that.
“Silence!” a voice boomed through the store. Ballantine's voice. “We must give these performers every chance.”
He stood up, and I got a better look at him. He was very lanky. He wore a glittery rhinestone turban on his head. He glowed in an aqua suit, very shiny and tight-fitting.
Ballantine's skin was deeply tanned. He had a narrow face with a thin black mustache. His eyelids drooped so low, I couldn't tell if his eyes were open. In fact, everything about him drooped. He had the saddest, droopiest expression I'd ever seen on a human.
No joke. He really did look as if his puppy had just died.
Of course, I'd seen videos of him. And I'd seen him on TV shows. And he always had that sad, hangdog look on his face. I wondered if anyone had ever seen Ballantine smile!
The line moved up. I started to feel nervous. It felt like a frog was jumping around in my stomach. I pulled out my deck of cards, and my hands were sweaty.
How am I going to do my tricks with sweaty hands? I asked myself. The frog leaped up to my throat.
I suddenly felt like turning around and running away. Ballantine was one of the most famous magicians in the world. Maybe the universe. What made me think I could impress him with my card tricks?
I wiped my hands on my jeans. I started to open the deck of cards and dropped them onto the floor. The cards spilled out around my feet.
My heart began to pound. I bent down and started to scoop them up. When I stood up again, Nicky and Tara were at my sides.
“Don't be nervous, Max,” Tara said. “Nicky and I are going to help you.”
“Huh? Help me?” I gasped.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. “You're next, kid,” the man in black said. He gave me a little shove toward the stage.
NICKY AND TARA MOVED forward with me.
Ballantine was talking to the people around him. He was sipping coffee from a large white mug. He glanced at me, and his expression got even sadder.
“Piece of cake,” Tara said. “Tap knuckles, Max, and let's show off a little!”
“I don't want to tap knuckles,” I said.
Ballantine set down his coffee mug and stared at me. “You want to tap knuckles?”
“N-no,” I said. “Just thinking out loud.”
“Stop shaking like that, Max,” Tara said. “Nicky and I are right here with you.”
“Please! Go away!” I shouted.
Ballantine laughed. “Is this a comedy act?”
“No,” I said. I raised the deck of cards.
Ballantine squinted at me from under his glittery turban. “What is your name, kid?”
Nicky whispered, “Tell him you're Max-o the Magnificent.”
“I'm not Max-o the Magnificent!” I cried.
I heard people snicker.
“That's who you're not?” Ballantine asked. “You're confusing me. Who are you? And what planet do you come from?”
That got a big laugh from everyone in the room.
“Tell him you want to mystify his mind,” Tara whispered.
“Please go away!” I begged Nicky and Tara.
Ballantine laughed. “This is a new approach,” he told Mr. and Mrs. Hocus.
“The kid is kinda funny,” Mr. Hocus said.
“Do you do any tricks, or do you just stand there and act weird?” Ballantine asked.
“I'm going to do some card tricks that I invented,” I said.
“Card tricks are too dull,” Nicky said.
“Yeah,” Tara agreed. “Let's show him something more exciting.”
“Please—let me do my card tricks,” I begged.
Ballantine shrugged. “I'm not stopping you, kid.”
“Let's do the Floating Wallet trick,” Nicky said. “That's more fun.”
I felt him pull my wallet from my jeans pocket. I made a grab for it. But Nicky raised it high over my head.
Ballantine and the others gasped.
They couldn't see Nicky. They just saw the wallet floating over my head.
I grabbed for it again. Nicky tossed it high to Tara.
Some people started to applaud. Ballantine actually opened his eyes all the way.
The wallet flew high over my head.
“I guess prices are going up!” I announced.
That got a big laugh.
Finally, I grabbed the wallet away from Nicky. I struggled to shove it back into my jeans pocket. “Let me do my card tricks,” I said.
But Tara pulled the deck of cards from my hand and started tossing cards across the room to Nicky. He caught them and tossed them back to her.
I heard gasps around the room.
I ran frantically back and forth, trying to catch the cards. Nicky and Tara were ruining my act. Ruining my one chance with Ballantine.
The cards scattered across the floor. Ballan-tine's jaw dropped. He looked even more confused.
“Let's give him something to stare at,” Tara said.
She and Nicky grabbed me by the armpits— and lifted me.
“Let me go!” I screamed.
They lifted me higher. I was floating nearly a foot off the floor.
Ballantine jumped to his feet. Everyone was chattering and gasping. “What do you call this trick?” Ballantine asked.
Nicky and Tara started to run. I looked as if I was flying across the room.
“Too … heavy …,” I heard Nicky groan.
“I'm losing him,” Tara grunted. “Can't … hold … on.”
“Nooo!” I let out a cry as they dropped me.
I fell hard on my face. Pain shot down my body.
I don't know how long I sprawled there, facedown, waiting for the pain to fade. When I stood up, I felt warm liquid oozing over my lips, down my chin.
A nosebleed. I had a fierce nosebleed.
My cards were scattered everywhere. The room had grown totally silent.
With a loud groan, I pulled myself to my feet. I didn't dare look at Ballantine.
My act was ruined.
I'd practiced for weeks. I knew my card tricks were good.
But it was all ruined—thanks to the two ghosts.
I'd never been so embarrassed in all my life. I had made a total fool of myself—in front of one of my heroes.
With a sigh, holding one hand over my bleeding nose, I slumped toward the door.
“Come on,” I muttered to Nicky and Tara. “Let's get out of here.”
“WAIT! COME BACK!” A voice boomed.
I turned to see Ballantine waving to me.
Was I seeing things? Did he actually have a smile on his face?
“Wonderful,” he said. “Wh
at's your name?”
“Max Doyle,” I said. Mrs. Hocus handed me a wad of Kleenex. I pressed it against my bleeding nose.
“That's a very funny act you do,” Ballantine said. He pulled off his turban and scratched his thick, curly white hair. “I know magicians don't tell their secrets. But you will have to come back, Max, and tell me how you do that floating trick.”
“C-come back?” I stammered.
He nodded. “Yes. Come back next Saturday. You have passed the audition. You will go on to the next round.”
He turned to Mr. Hocus. “Write down his name. Max Doyle. I definitely want to see him next week.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Is that blood real? Or is it trick blood?” Ballantine asked.
“Uh … trick blood,” I said. “All part of the act.”
Back in my room, I sprawled on my back on the bed. I stared up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. Thinking hard about Ballantine and everything that had happened at the magic store.
When Nicky and Tara appeared at the side of the bed, I wasn't happy to see them.
“I need time to think,” I said. “I need peace and quiet. Can you take a hint?”
“No, we can't,” Tara said, sitting down next to me. She gave me several soft face slaps. “Snap out of it, Maxie.”
“Why won't you leave me alone?” I begged.
“Because we haven't heard you say thank you yet,” Nicky replied, dropping down beside his sister.
“Thank you?” I cried, sitting up. “Thank you for what?”
“For making your act so good, Ballantine wants you to come back,” Tara said.
“You're joking, right?” I said. “You didn't make my act good. You made my act a disaster! And—and—”
My nose started to bleed again. I grabbed a wad of tissues and pressed them against my face.
“We help each other,” Tara insisted. “Admit it, Max. Nicky and I helped you. And next Saturday … you'll help us.”
“Huh?” I jumped out of bed. “You mean switch brains with a monkey? You're crazy! You—”
The front doorbell rang. I was the only one home. “Go away,” I told Nicky and Tara. “Maybe I do owe you thanks for what happened in the magic store. But no way will I switch brains with that chimp. Do you hear me? No way!”
“Is that a maybe?” Tara asked.
She and Nicky vanished. The doorbell chimed again. I ran downstairs and pulled open the front door.
“Traci!” I gasped.
There stood Traci Wayne in all her golden beauty. Traci Wayne, the coolest, prettiest, most awesome girl at Jefferson Elementary. Traci Wayne—standing on my front stoop!
What did I do to deserve such amazing luck?
Yes, I admit I have a crush on Traci. I mean, I think it may be true love. Whenever I see her, my toes curl up, so it takes me hours to pull my shoes off.
My face turns bright red. I start breathing through my mouth, making hee-haw sounds. And I get all tongue-tied and say everything backward.
Is that true love? Or is it some kind of weird disease?
I stared at Traci. Her blond hair ruffled behind her in the wind. Her olive-colored eyes locked on mine.
“Goodbye,” I said. “I mean, hello. Hee-haw. Hee-haw.”
“Hi, Max,” she said. She glanced around. “Can I come inside? I don't want my friends to see me at your house. That would be so uncool.”
“Hee-haw. I understand,” I said. I moved away so she could step inside.
She hurried in and shut the door behind her.
She was wearing a pale blue sweater and jeans. I glanced down and saw that my nose had dripped a couple of red spots onto her white tennis sneakers.
She looked down too. “Oh, what's that on my new shoes?” she asked.
“Hee-haw. It's blood,” I said.
“Ew. Blood?”
I tried to sound in control. I punched my fist in the air. “A bloody nose,” I said. “I got into a fight.”
Traci squinted at me. “You? Brainimon? In a fight?”
“Ha, ha,” I said. “I don't want to brag. But you should have seen the other guy!”
She sneered at me. “What really happened? You fell on your face?”
“Kind of,” I said.
She glanced at the front window. “No one can see me in here, right?”
“Right,” I said. “What's down, Traci? I mean, what's up?”
“Listen, Max. My icky cousin Stella is having a drippy, boring party. Her friends are all nerds and geeks. But my mom is making me go.”
I suddenly started panting like an overheated dog. “Yeah?”
“I need to bring someone with me,” Traci said. “But I don't want to invite any of my cool friends. Cuz they'd hate it. They'd hate it cuz it's going to be the worst, most geeky, most yuck-all party in history.”
“Cool,” I said. “I mean, hee-haw.”
“I can't think of anyone else in school uncool enough to go to this party,” Traci said. “Except for you, Max. So how about it?”
With a loud sigh, I fell back against the wall. Dazed. Totally dazed.
The invitation of a lifetime!
Traci Wayne was actually inviting me to a party!
“Sweet!” I said. “I mean, awesome!”
“We'll go in separate cars,” Traci said. “I don't want my friends to know I went to a party with you.”
“That's cool,” I said. “I mean, okay.”
“Okay. See you Saturday,” Traci said. She glanced around tensely. “Can I go out the back door? I don't want anyone to see that I was here.”
“No problem,” I said. “Hee-haw. See you Saturday.”
I watched her run out the back door. She took off across the backyard running full speed and didn't look back.
My luck is definitely changing! I told myself.
Ballantine the Nearly Amazing invited me back to perform for a second week. And Traci Wayne invited me to a party.
Was this the luckiest day of my life?
Or was it the last happy Saturday I would ever have?
THE WEEK DRAGGED BY. I felt like I was moving in slow motion.
Nicky and Tara kept begging me to go with them to Dr. Smollet's lab Saturday morning. But I tried to shove that thought out of my mind.
All I could think about was performing magic tricks for Ballantine and going to Traci's cousin's party.
Thursday after school, I went home with Aaron. I wanted to show him the tricks I planned to do for Ballantine.
Aaron looked even weirder than usual. That's because he still had the cell phone glued to his ear.
“It's kinda nice for making calls,” he said as we climbed the stairs to his room. “I never have to look for the phone. But it's hard to power up. I have to lean my head close to the charger and hold it there for about an hour.”
“How long are you going to keep it there?” I asked.
Aaron shrugged. “My doctor tried everything to remove it. But he couldn't do it. He called the glue company to send someone to look at me. Maybe they can help.”
I set up my tricks on Aaron's desk. He sat down on his bed to watch.
“Is that a new Jennifer Garner poster?” I asked, pointing to the wall behind his bed. Aaron had taped posters and pictures over the entire wall.
“Yeah,” Aaron said. “Check it out.”
I stepped up to the poster. It was a scene from the first season of Alias. Jennifer Garner's hair was blowing behind her. She had a shiny gun in her hand.
“Hey!” I read the handwriting near the bottom. It was a message written in blue ink: To Aaron, Love always—Jennifer.
“Wow!” I cried, turning to Aaron. “She signed this for you?”
He shook his head. “No. I wrote that. Cool, huh?”
“Yeah. Sure,” I said. I walked back to the desk. “Here's a new trick. I made it up just for Ballantine.”
I held up two drinking glasses. “The Amazing Moving Water Trick!” I announced. “Watch car
efully.”
The glass on the left was filled with water. I held a red handkerchief in front of the glasses, hiding them from view.
“The water moves in mysterious ways!” I boomed in my loud magician's voice. I whipped the handkerchief away—and both glasses were now half full.
“Awesome,” Aaron said. “The water really did move.”
“Keep watching,” I said. I hid the glasses behind the handkerchief. “Move, water!” I shouted. I pulled the handkerchief away—and all the water was now in the second glass.
“Awesome!” Aaron repeated. He clapped his hands. “How do you do that?”
“Wait. I'm not finished,” I said. I lowered the handkerchief again and said some magic words. This time, both glasses were empty. The water had disappeared.
Aaron jumped to his feet. “That is way cool!” he exclaimed. He slapped me on the back. I staggered into the desk, and both glasses started to tumble off.
Luckily, I made a great catch and grabbed them before they fell.
“Ballantine will go ape for that trick!” Aaron said.
“Please don't mention monkeys,” I begged.
He stared at me. “Huh? Excuse me?”
“Never mind,” I said.
“Did you know I'm allergic to monkeys?” Aaron asked.
“I have some more tricks,” I said.
Aaron picked up the two water glasses. “Bet I can do the water trick,” he said. He raised the two glasses to his face and studied them.
I laughed. “Since when are you into magic?” I asked.
I heard a noise outside the bedroom window. Someone was shouting out there.
I ran to the window, stuck my head out, and glanced around. I heard more shouts. Then I saw some kids in the yard across the street.
The Wilbur brothers. They were beating up a little kid. He was screaming for help.
I watched Billy Wilbur rip the boy's shirt up the back. Willy Wilbur held the kid down and gave his head a hard knuckle rub.
“Hey! The Wilbur brothers are beating up a kid across the street!” I called to Aaron.
“So what else is new?” Aaron replied. “Dude, they beat that kid up every afternoon. It's their after-school activity.”
I watched for a few more seconds. The little kid kicked Willy in the leg, then ran away.
A happy ending.