The Magic Misfits: The Second Story

  Still, she asked him, “Why… why did Sandra’s father have the key in the first place?”

  “He was Mineral Wells’s locksmith,” Mr. Vernon answered simply. “He crafted a skeleton key specially for the former mayor of Mineral Wells. Mr. Santos was also the man who built the metal doors that sealed up the bootlegging tunnels beneath the town. The mayor was worried about people crawling around down here and the passages collapsing, so he hired Santos to forge an impossibly strong lock that would keep out trespassers.”

  “Trespassers like the Emerald Ring?” Carter asked.

  “Exactly!”

  Leila and Carter glanced at each other, confused. They moved carefully onward, following Mr. Vernon toward what they hoped was the center of Mineral Wells and another rusted door that Leila’s key might unlock.

  “Unfortunately, what the mayor feared came to pass,” Mr. Vernon went on. “But the only victim was the man trying to protect the town. Sandra’s father died down here when one of the tunnels crumpled. She was devastated.”

  “That’s terrible!” said Carter.

  Leila felt her face grow warm. “Poor thing.”

  Mr. Vernon nodded. “Sandra was so distraught that she hid the map and the key from the rest of us in the Emerald Ring, so that no one would ever get hurt in the tunnels again. You kids were clever enough to solve her riddle and uncover her long-buried secret.”

  “But,” Carter said, his brow furrowed, “none of that answers how Leila ended up with the key in the first place.”

  Mr. Vernon glanced at his husband.

  “It’s probably best to keep our voices down,” said the Other Mr. Vernon quickly. “If those clowns circle back to the law office and figure out that we’ve left the basement, we might give away our location.” Mr. Vernon nodded again, then pointed toward a shadowy opening in the tunnel wall.

  The Other Mr. Vernon went first—his shoulders hunched so he wouldn’t bump his head on the low ceiling—listening for any hint of danger.

  As Leila followed Carter, she held her breath. She concentrated on maneuvering through the dark, even though she was unsure what might happen when they made it back to the light. Had Sandra Santos’s father been the only person who had perished down here? Leila’s mind whirled. What if they came across a skeleton—a real one this time? What if it started dancing like the one in the basement of the resort? And what about the spirits that Sandra had invited into the auditorium the previous night? What if they were still hanging around in Mineral Wells?

  Pebbles fell from a crack in the ceiling, and everyone froze, panicked that their next move might set off a perilous chain reaction. After a tense few moments, the pebbles stopped falling, and the group continued on carefully past the crack.

  When they came to a fork in the tunnel, Mr. Vernon pointed down a dark path. “This way. I think.”

  “You think?” asked the Other Mr. Vernon.

  Carter held the bootlegging map in front of the flashlight beam. “He’s right. We’re moving in the right direction.”

  “Thank you, my boy.”

  “Thanks to the bootleggers,” Carter added, “and that the magic shop used to be a jazz club.”

  On and on they walked. Ahead, Leila’s poppa paused. “Does any of this look familiar?”

  “It all looks the same, if that’s what you mean,” said her dad. “It’s a bit of a labyrinth, isn’t it?” This was not reassuring. Mr. Vernon seemed to realize that Leila’s face was a mask of worry. “Then again, life is but a labyrinth that we must navigate blindfolded. Is it not?”

  “A little on the nose,” her poppa responded. “But fair enough.”

  Leila shushed them, frustrated that she suddenly felt like the parent.

  “There!” Carter shouted. Leila followed his gaze and noticed that the flashlight’s beam had landed on what looked like a set of stone steps. At the top was another rusted door. Hopefully, the way out.

  Throwing caution to the shadows, Leila raced ahead, clutching her key in her fist. She felt around for the keyhole and then placed the butt end of the key inside. With a click, the latch released. When Leila pushed the door, it squealed and gave way.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Pushing past a dusty velvet curtain and into a shadowy room, Leila caught a whiff of something familiar—musty but comforting, bringing sweet and happy feelings to the surface. The flashlight beam revealed a folding table leaning against a stone wall. There were cardboard boxes stacked all around, labeled with black ink: X-RAY SPECS, TALKING SKULLS, LARGE IMP BOTTLES, RUBBER PENCILS. They were in the basement of the magic shop!

  “We made it!” said Carter, wiping wet cobwebs from the tunnels off his shoulders. But before anyone could say anything else, a crash sounded from upstairs.

  Another crash reverberated down. Mr. Vernon motioned for everyone to be quiet. He waved them all toward the stairs. They climbed, careful not to tread on the squeakiest steps.

  At the top, the four barreled into the magic shop and saw someone duck behind the counter.

  “Who goes there?” demanded Mr. Vernon, stepping forward and stretching out his arms as if to protect the rest of them.

  A soft voice croaked, “Dante?”

  “Sandra?” Leila said, rushing over. She found the woman crouching down beside the counter, wearing a deep purple housedress. In one hand, she clutched her large burgundy purse with the embroidered crystal ball on it. Sandra looked at Leila in shock, then stood up. “You startled me!” She glanced at the others. “Where did you all come from?”

  Carter pointed toward the basement door.

  Sandra’s breath heaved. “I thought… I thought that maybe some spirits were after me.” Her voice rose dramatically, and she held her hand to her forehead.

  Leila glanced around the shop. It was in shambles. Books had been thrown from the shelves, drawers jarred open, magical items strewn every which way.

  “What are you doing here, Sandra?” Mr. Vernon’s voice was stern.

  The Other Mr. Vernon stood beside him. “The door was locked. How did you get in?”

  Sandra’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, well, I came by to check on Leila, to see if everything was okay after last night. I found the door open and the store a mess. I thought you’d been robbed!” Her voice trembled. “I was just about to head upstairs when you all came up from the basement.”

  Mr. Vernon shook his head. “You knew we were meeting with that couple and the man who called himself their lawyer, didn’t you?”

  “I knew nothing about a meeting,” Sandra said, looking confused. “How did they find a lawyer so quickly?”

  “That’s the thing,” said the Other Mr. Vernon. “They didn’t.”

  Leila squinted at Sandra, trying to see beyond the woman’s act. To Leila’s surprise, her own voice came out cold, like an icy stone at the bottom of a frozen lake. “They weren’t who they said they were.… They were Bosso’s frown clowns. Except they don’t work for Bosso. They work for someone else. When we tried to leave, they locked us in the basement. We escaped through the old bootlegging tunnels and ended up back here at the shop.”

  Sandra shook her head in shock. “Thank goodness you’re all right. Those people sound horrible!”

  “There are many words I’d use to describe them,” the Other Mr. Vernon growled. “Horrible would be the nicest.”

  Carter approached the counter and ran his fingers over several piles of marbleized ledgers sitting there. “These look just like the notebook that the monkey tried to take from Mr. Vernon’s office. We usually keep them tucked neatly behind the counter. If someone broke in to rob the store, why would they pile them up here? Unless…” His eyes popped open wide as an idea came to him. “Unless the person who broke in was still looking for that same ledger, the one from Mr. Vernon’s office.”

  Sandra stepped swiftly away from Carter, but not before he snatched another marbleized notebook from her crystal-ball purse and held it up. Sandra gasped, then looked at Leila, who was appalled. The group s
tared at Sandra in shocked silence.

  After a few seconds, Sandra said softly, “I can explain.”

  A violent dizziness seemed to crush Leila’s head, and she had to hold on to a bookshelf to keep from collapsing. No… no… it can’t be true.… Everything she’d admired about this woman fell away… Please, Leila thought. Please don’t let her say what I know she’s going to say… that’s she’s one of the bad guys…

  “They weren’t supposed to hurt you,” Sandra went on. “Under no circumstances, I told them. I made them promise me.”

  Mr. Vernon clutched the Other Mr. Vernon’s shoulder. His voice broke as he said, “Oh, Sandra… how could you?”

  “I had to do it,” she said. “You don’t understand, Dante. Kalagan forced me to. You know how he works. He can make anyone do anything.”

  Leila was surprised to hear herself echo the name. “Kalagan?”

  Sandra’s eyes grew wide. “A mesmerist. He has powers… terrible powers.”

  “The only power Kalagan ever had was the power to manipulate,” Mr. Vernon spat. “He was never the real deal.”

  “He’s real enough,” said Sandra. “It doesn’t matter if you believe in him.… He will always seek to destroy what he cannot control. And once he has control, you’ll believe whatever he wants you to.”

  Carter asked, “Who is Kalagan?! What are you talking about?!”

  Vernon retrieved the old sepia-toned photo of the Emerald Ring. There they all were—young and fresh and full of life and love for one another. Sandra was holding her crystal ball. Bobby Boscowitz was grinning slyly. A bespectacled boy sat with a doll on his lap. Behind him, Lyle Locke—Carter’s father—was laughing as Dante Vernon looked on, lost in thought. And at the edge of the group, a figure in a cape and top hat stood in shadow, as if shrinking from the light, trying to hide away from the others. Leila’s mind wandered back to the abandoned wing of the Grand Oak, and she recalled the messages and symbols that had been written on the walls, and the poster, and the stones in the basement floor. All of it had been the work of these kids. Their group had been so close once. But now that was over. They’d broken apart, scattered to the wind. Bosso had turned into a big bully, and now Sandra…

  Leila piped up. “At the lodge, we saw initials carved into the wall. K and A. Kalagan… and who else?”

  Sandra breathed heavily. “My full name is Alessandra Santos. I can’t tell you how many times I crossed out the graffiti in that room. But Kalagan just kept carving it again. He was obsessed with me.” Her eyes were wild, desperate.

  Mr. Vernon tapped at the photo, on the shadowy figure. “This is Kalagan.” Leila was yanked out of her imagination and back into the magic shop. Vernon glanced at Sandra, pain in his eyes. “He’s the reason that the Emerald Ring fell to pieces all those years ago. The fire at the hotel… the candle, and the trick we begged him not to do…”

  Leila’s heart jolted—so her dad did know about the accident in the abandoned wing after all. And it had been Kalagan’s doing! Carter’s eyes flicked toward her own, sending a secret message of understanding.

  Mr. Vernon sighed. “What did he ask you to do, Sandra?”

  Tears gathered the black mascara from Sandra’s eyelashes and made it streak down her face like smeared clown makeup. “It started with the monkey.”

  It was such a ridiculous sentence that if Leila weren’t so queasy, she might have guffawed.

  “I suspected as much.” Mr. Vernon nodded knowingly. “Monkeys don’t usually break into apartments in the middle of the night.”

  Sandra scoffed and then sniffed. “Monkeys don’t usually follow the orders of lunatic carnival owners either. But somehow Bosso managed to train the creature to do his bidding. When Bosso was caught, some of his clowns escaped. But they never really were his crew. Ultimately, they’ve always answered to Kalagan. Their true leader. He had the clowns send the monkey to break into your office, to retrieve a book that you were writing in, but then the little turncoat refused to come back. So… who does Kalagan send to finish the monkey’s task?”

  “That’s why you came back to Mineral Wells?” Carter asked, astonished. He tucked the notebook he’d taken from her tightly under his arm, then placed his hands atop the piles of ledgers on the counter. “To rob Mr. Vernon?”

  Sandra hung her head, unable to answer the question. “That night at dinner, after I excused myself to the bathroom, I quietly scoured Dante’s office for the book. No luck. I figured he might have moved it down to the shop. But then the monkey screeched, scaring me half to death. I was so flustered I fell. It’s like the monkey wanted me to get caught.”

  Mr. Vernon bit his bottom lip. “I did suspect that something was up.”

  “I knew then that I had to leave Mineral Wells and never return.” Sandra sniffed and then shuddered. “But Kalagan wouldn’t allow it. He made certain that the manager of the Grand Oak offered me a show. And I believed that if Leila were to perform with me, your whole family would have been out of the shop long enough for the clowns to sneak in and find the book.”

  “You mean… you didn’t really think I was talented?” Leila asked. It felt as if Sandra were plucking her petals, throwing them to the floor, and then crushing them beneath her heel.

  “Your talent is unquestionable, honey. But it wasn’t in the center of my mind.” She shook her head and reached out to touch Leila’s shoulder. Leila flinched, and Sandra seemed to think better of it. “This next part is difficult to admit. When Dante refused to show up, Kalagan forced me to do something I never wanted to do. I would have rather died… but I did it anyway. I agreed to that bit with the ‘Varalikas,’ saying that they were Leila’s parents.” She turned to Leila. “Kalagan’s gang of clowns was going to hurt you if I didn’t comply.… I was trying to keep you and your dad safe.” She covered her face and burst into tears. “I… I’m so ashamed.”

  Leila’s pain was suddenly replaced with anger. It filled her like air in a balloon, and it continued to fill her until she worried she might pop. “They did hurt me! They pretended to be my parents!”

  “They hurt you, yes, but… you’re still alive!”

  Leila wanted to push Sandra out of the shop. Out of Mineral Wells. Out of her life, her memories, the whole universe! Instead, she quietly asked, “Couldn’t you have just asked for the book? Couldn’t you have just told us the truth?”

  Mr. Vernon simply stared at Sandra, waiting for her response.

  Sandra glanced at the ledger pinned underneath Carter’s arm. “Dante would not have been willing to give that book to anyone, especially not Kalagan. I don’t need psychic powers to be sure of that. It’s a book of names. Names of people who—”

  “Enough,” said Vernon fiercely, forcing Sandra to clamp her mouth shut. Then he was suddenly chirpy. “It’s time for Sandra to go.… Thanks for stopping by! Don’t ever come again!”

  “But, Dad! There’s so much we need to find out. What about Kalagan?” Leila faced Sandra, her fear and anxiety tamped down. “That afternoon you were talking to yourself in the resort lounge… he was there, wasn’t he? He was telling you what he needed you to do. And then from backstage, behind the curtain during your show… But you didn’t want to listen.”

  “I—I…” Sandra started. But she couldn’t seem to say more.

  “Fine. Then I just have one more question for you—” Leila began.

  Before she could finish, she heard a loud engine outside the shop. A tiny red clown car pulled up to the curb, and a bang echoed up and down the street as the exhaust pipe backfired. Pammy and Bob Varalika hopped out of the passenger side door, followed by the man they’d called Tommy, then two more kids and an adult. Last but not least, towering over them and wearing a wicked smile, was the fake lawyer himself, Mr. Sammy Falsk, Esquire.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Before the Vernon family could bar the door, the seven former clowns entered the magic shop. They had billy clubs and wore menacing looks on their faces. A thwack from one of those wea
pons would have made an egg-sized knob on someone’s skull. Or worse. Sammy Falsk grabbed Carter by the wrist and pulled him into a headlock. “Let him go!” Leila screamed.

  “Everyone settle down,” the fake lawyer barked before turning his attention to Vernon. “I’d ask how you got out of the basement, but our leader warned us you’d play with magic.”

  “Let the boy go,” Mr. Vernon said.

  “No,” the thug growled.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” the Other Vernon asked.

  “We’re the former frown clowns,” Sammy sneered. “But you can call us Jimmy, Timmy, Tommy, Tammy, Sammy, Pammy, and Bob.”

  “Those names are as dumb as you,” Carter growled.

  “Shut up, kid!” Sammy snapped.

  Leila sized up the intruders. Instantly, she realized that the seven villains were the same seven volunteers from Sandra’s stage show at the Grand Oak. So her friends had been right—even Sandra’s performance was as fake as she was.

  “As you can see, we outnumber you,” said Sammy. “So I recommend you cooperate. All we want is a book. Did you find the ledger, Sandra?”

  Sandra shook her head. “No. But it doesn’t matter. They won’t give up the book. We should just leave them be.”

  “Whose side are you on?” asked Mrs. Varalika.

  “Hand over the book, Dante,” Mr. Varalika said with a threatening lilt, raising his club over Carter’s head. “No one’s getting out of here until that happens.”

  Mr. Vernon held up his hands. “Okay, okay! I’ll give you what you want. Just… let him go. Don’t hurt anyone.”

  “Give us the book,” said Mrs. Varalika. “And no tricks this time! I’m allergic to smoke and fake fog!”

  “Something you might want to keep secret,” Leila muttered.

  “Not to worry!” Mr. Vernon exclaimed. “I’ve got nothing up my sleeves.”