41 - Bad Hare Day Page 3

  I made it all the way down the stairs with only one more creak. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I’m safe now, I thought. I’ll wait until I get outside to put my shoes on. Then I’ll grab my bike and go.

  I tiptoed across the cold hallway floor. I reached for the handle of the front door. Twisted it.

  Almost there.

  Almost.

  Then a shrill voice demanded, “Tim—where do you think you’re going?”

  7

  I spun around. Ginny!

  She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, all ready to go out. She bounded down the stairs.

  “Ssshhhhhhhh! You’ll wake up Mom and Dad!”

  I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out the front door.

  “What are you doing up?” I demanded.

  “I was waiting for you to come into my room and turn me into a rabbit,” she replied. “Or pretend to, anyway.”

  “I’m not going to do that tonight,” I said. “Go back to bed.”

  “What are you doing up? Where are you going?”

  I sat on the front steps and pulled on my sneakers. “Out to the garage,” I lied. “To practice a new trick.”

  “You are not. I know where you’re going. To Midnight Mansion!”

  I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Okay. You’re right. I’m going to Midnight Mansion. Don’t tell Mom and Dad—promise?”

  “I want to go!” she insisted. “Let me go with you.”

  “No. Go back to bed—and don’t tell. Or you’ll be sorry.”

  “You have to take me!” she declared. “If you don’t, I’ll run upstairs and tell Mom and Dad right now. Then you’ll never get to see Amaz-O.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would.”

  I knew she would.

  “All right,” I agreed. “You can come. But you have to be good and do everything I tell you to do.”

  “Maybe I will—and maybe I won’t.”

  I sighed. I had to take her, no matter how bratty she was. If I did, she’d never tell—because then she’d be in as much trouble as me.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered.

  We sneaked into the garage and got our bikes. Then we pedaled off into the night.

  It felt strange riding down Bank Street late at night. The shops were all closed and dark. Hardly any traffic on the street.

  Oh, no. A police car up ahead—cruising toward us down Bank Street. If he spotted us, he’d stop us for sure. And then he’d take us home. And then we’d really be in trouble.

  I searched desperately for a place to hide. The police couldn’t miss us—Bank Street was lined with streetlights.

  “Ginny!” I called. “Quick—out of the light!” I swerved into the dark doorway of a dress shop. Ginny followed. We leaped off our bikes and pressed ourselves into the shadows.

  The police car glided past. I held my breath as the headlights brushed across us. The car stopped.

  “He saw us!” Ginny whispered. “Run!”

  I grabbed her arm to stop her. “Wait.” I peeked out into the street.

  The police car was idling, but the driver stayed inside.

  “It’s a red light,” I told Ginny. A few seconds later the light turned green, and the police car rolled away.

  “We’re safe now,” I said. We hopped back onto our bikes and rode off.

  Midnight Mansion loomed huge and dark at the edge of town. People said that a crazy old woman had lived alone in the mansion for forty years. She was rich, but so stingy she wore ragged old clothes and ate nothing but peanut butter, right out of the jar.

  When people tried to visit her, she screamed, “Go away!” and threw rocks at them. She had about fifty cats. When she died, a businessman bought the mansion and turned it into a nightclub.

  I braked in front of the old house and stared at it. Midnight Mansion.

  It looked like a spooky old castle made of sooty black stone. Three stories tall, with two towers shooting up into the night sky. Vines crept across the roof. A floodlight threw creepy shadows over the house.

  I’d seen the mansion a million times before. But late at night it looked bigger and darker than usual. I thought I saw bats fluttering around the two towers.

  “No wonder the old lady went crazy,” Ginny whispered. “Living in a spooky place like that.”

  “Do you think she kept prisoners in those towers?” I wondered.

  “I think she had a torture chamber in the basement,” Ginny said.

  We walked our bikes up to the entrance. People hurried inside to see Amaz-O’s magic show. Three men in long black capes breezed past us. A woman with long black hair, black lipstick, and pointy black fingernails smiled at me.

  “Where did all these weird people come from?” Ginny asked.

  I shrugged. “Let’s go in. The show is about to start.”

  We locked our bikes and ran up the long stone steps. We entered a big hall lit by a crystal chandelier. We crossed the hall to a doorway covered by a heavy red curtain.

  A tall, thin man in a black tuxedo guarded the curtain. He reached out a long, bony finger to stop us.

  He had no hair, a pencil neck, and dark, hollow eye sockets. “He looks like a skeleton,” Ginny whispered to me.

  I pulled the two tickets out of my back pocket and handed them to him.

  “Very good,” he croaked in a low voice. “But where are your parents? I can’t seat children without their parents.”

  My parents? Think fast, Swanz-O, I told myself. “Um—my parents. Yes. Well, my parents, you see…” I had a feeling he didn’t want to hear that my parents were home sleeping.

  “They’re outside, parking the car,” I lied. “They’ll be here in a minute. They told us to come in and get a table.”

  The man’s hollow black eyes seemed to burn a hole in my brain. Would he buy it?

  “I don’t like it. But all right.” He led us through the red curtain. The houselights went down just as we walked in. He showed us to a table right next to the stage.

  “Excellent!” I said to Ginny as we sat down. “The best seats in the whole place!”

  “This is so exciting!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe we’re in a real, grown-up nightclub. By ourselves!”

  The eerie-looking host stood by the red curtain, watching us. “We may not be here long,” I warned her. “That skeleton guy’s got his eye on us. When he realizes we’re not here with our parents—”

  “Shh! The show’s starting.”

  A voice came over a loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen! Midnight Mansion is proud to present the most famous magician in America. The fabulous, the incredible, the mind-boggling Amaz-O!”

  A drum roll, and then horns bleating “Ta da!” The audience clapped and cheered. The curtain rose.

  I gasped when I saw the stage. It was filled with wonderful equipment—a tall, shiny black box with a door in the front, a platform suspended from the ceiling, a glittering box with holes in it for a head, arms, and legs to stick out of. And a big white rabbit sitting beside a vase of blue flowers on a table covered with a red scarf.

  The rabbit wasn’t tied up or caged or anything. “I wonder how he keeps that rabbit from running away,” Ginny whispered. “That’s a trick you need to learn.”

  “You’re so funny, Ginny,” I said, rolling my eyes. “My sides are splitting with laughter.”

  “You have no sense of humor,” Ginny jeered. “That’s your problem.”

  “No. You’re my problem,” I snapped.

  Amaz-O strode onstage. He was tall and slim, and his top hat made him seem even taller. He had long black hair and wore a black cape lined with red satin over a black tuxedo.

  He tossed the cape over his shoulders and bowed.

  I can’t believe I’m seeing Amaz-O in person! I thought, my heart pounding with excitement. And so close—I could almost touch him!

  Maybe I’ll even see how some of his tricks are done, I thought. Maybe, sitting so close, I’ll catch some of
his secrets!

  Without saying a word, Amaz-O scanned the audience. He trained his eyes on me.

  My whole body shook. He’s staring right at me! I gasped.

  Amaz-O took a step forward and leaned toward me.

  What’s he doing? I thought. Is he going to talk to me?

  Amaz-O leaned closer. His face was right next to mine! I cowered in my seat.

  He scowled and whispered in a deep, menacing voice, “Disappear! Disappear!”

  8

  I shrank back.

  “Disappear!” he growled again.

  “Excuse me?” I gasped. I stared up at him. On TV he seemed friendly. But in person he was definitely frightening.

  “Disappear!” he whispered. “I’m going to make you disappear at the end of the show. I will ask for volunteers—and I will choose you.”

  He didn’t want me to disappear for real. He wanted me to be part of his act! I couldn’t believe it!

  I’ll find out how he does his famous disappearing trick! I thought. Maybe I’ll get to meet him after the show. Maybe he’ll even tell me some of his secrets!

  Ginny leaned across the table. “He’s going to make you disappear forever!” she teased. “What will I tell Mom and Dad?”

  I paid no attention to her. Nothing Ginny did or said could bother me now.

  This was too cool! Just seeing Amaz-O was exciting enough. But he chose me to be in his show!

  Maybe he could tell that I’m a magician, too, I thought.

  Amaz-O began his act. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he crooned. “Tonight you will see some amazing feats. You will see me do things you always thought were impossible. Are these feats real—or are they illusions? It’s up to you to decide.”

  He waved his hands, and a wand appeared out of thin air. The audience clapped.

  Then Amaz-O began to fidget with his hat, as if it felt uncomfortable on his head. “Something is wrong with my hat,” he said. “It feels strange—almost as if…”

  He lifted the hat off his head and peered into it. He showed us the inside of it. It looked perfectly normal. There was nothing inside it.

  He placed it back on his head. “It’s funny,” he chuckled. “I thought for a minute there might be something inside my hat. I thought I felt—oh, I don’t know—a flock of birds fluttering around in there.”

  The hat jiggled. Amaz-O appeared annoyed. “There it goes again!”

  He whipped the hat off his head and stared into it. On top of his head sat a large white feather. People in the audience giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” Amaz-O asked. He felt the top of his head and found the feather. “Where did that come from?” he gasped, acting amazed. Everyone laughed.

  “Well, I’ll try not to let this bother me,” he went on, replacing his hat. “Back to the show. For my first trick—”

  The hat began to shake again—slightly at first, then harder. It practically jumped off his head. The audience cracked up. Amaz-O pretended to be horrified.

  He yanked the hat off his head—and out flew a whole flock of doves! They swooped over the audience and flew up to the rafters.

  “I knew something was going on in there!” Amaz-O joked. Loud laughter and clapping.

  He’s the greatest, I thought, clapping along. How did he get all those birds inside his hat?

  I glanced at the rabbit on stage. It sat calmly on the table, staring at Amaz-O. It almost seemed to be watching the act.

  I can’t wait to see his rabbit trick, I thought. Will he make the rabbit disappear? Or pull off some kind of twist?

  “For my next trick I need a needle and thread,” Amaz-O announced. He produced a packet of needles and a long, thick thread from one of his pockets. He picked out a needle and squinted, trying to push the thread through the eye.

  “I always have trouble threading a needle,” he said. He licked the end of the thread and tried again. He couldn’t get the thread to go through.

  He threw up his hands in frustration. “It’s impossible!” he cried. “How do tailors do it?”

  The audience chuckled. I waited to see what would come next. I knew all this needle-and-thread business was a buildup to something incredible.

  “So much for the hard way to thread a needle,” Amaz-O said. “I’ll show you a better way.”

  He snatched up the packet of needles. There must have been at least twenty needles stuck into a piece of cardboard. He popped the whole thing into his mouth. Then he dangled the long string over his mouth like a piece of spaghetti.

  He slowly drew the string into his mouth, chewing. It looked as if he were eating a piece of spaghetti—with a packet of needles in his mouth, too.

  “Don’t you think that hurts?” Ginny whispered. “Chewing up all those needles?”

  I barely nodded. I watched Amaz-O, spellbound.

  Amaz-O nearly swallowed the whole string. About an inch of string stuck out between his lips. The audience waited, hushed.

  He paused. Then he opened his mouth and tugged at the string. Slowly, slowly, he pulled it out of his mouth.

  One by one the needles appeared—dangling from the string! Somehow he had threaded twenty needles with his tongue!

  The audience gasped, then applauded. The needles flashed as Amaz-O held up the string.

  “Threading needles the easy way!” he cried as he took another bow.

  I’ve got to find out how he did that, I thought. Maybe I’ll ask him after the show.

  “How’s the show going?” Amaz-O asked the audience. We all cheered. “I wonder how much time we have left?” He strode across the stage to the table where the rabbit and the blue flowers sat on top of the red scarf.

  With a flick of his wrist, he yanked the scarf out from under the rabbit.

  The rabbit didn’t move. Neither did the vase of flowers. The table was now bare.

  The rabbit blinked calmly. Amaz-O waved the scarf over his left hand. He let it drop—and a big red alarm clock appeared in his hand!

  He glanced at the clock. “I suppose we have time for a few more tricks.” He covered the clock with the scarf—and the clock disappeared.

  A loud ringing suddenly erupted from the other side of the stage. I turned toward it.

  The red alarm clock—floating in midair! It seemed to have flown across the stage by itself.

  Amaz-O crossed the stage, grabbed the clock, and shut off the alarm.

  “My clock is a little fast,” he joked. “It’s not time for the show to end. Not yet.”

  I hope not, I thought. This is the greatest magic act I’ve ever seen in my life!

  The rest of the show was fantastic, too. Amaz-O escaped from a locked safe. He walked through a brick wall. He tapped his hat with his magic wand—and in a puff of smoke his tuxedo changed from black to yellow!

  “And now for my big finale,” Amaz-O announced. “I am going to make a member of the audience disappear. Are there any volunteers?”

  He gazed out over the audience. No one said a word. Ginny kicked me under the table.

  “Ow!” I whispered, rubbing my skin. “What did you do that for?”

  “He asked for volunteers, you moron,” she said. “That means you.”

  I’d been so caught up in the show, I almost forgot. I stood up. “I’d like to volunteer.”

  Amaz-O smiled. “Excellent, young man. Please step up on stage.”

  My stomach suddenly jolted with terror. I stumbled up to the stage.

  Here I go, I thought nervously. Amaz-O is going to make me disappear.

  I hope nothing goes wrong.

  9

  Amaz-O towered over me on stage. This is unbelievable, I thought. I’m on stage with the great Amaz-O. I’m about to be part of one of his famous tricks.

  He’s going to make me disappear!

  I clutched my stomach, wondering, Why do I feel so scared?

  “Thanks for volunteering, young man,” Amaz-O said to me. “You must be very brave. Are your parents here tonight?”
>
  My parents? Uh-oh. “Um—they’re here. Sure they’re here,” I stammered. “But—uh—they had to make a phone call.”

  Amaz-O frowned. “A phone call? In the middle of my show?”

  “Well—it was an emergency,” I explained.

  “Never mind. I’m glad they’ve stepped away. If they knew what was about to happen to you, they might try to stop me.”

  “Stop you?” My heart skittered nervously. But I heard the audience laughing.

  Don’t let him scare you, I told myself. This is just part of the act. He’s joking.

  I faked a laugh. “What—um—exactly—is about to happen to me?”

  “I’m going to make you disappear,” Amaz-O replied. “You will be transported into another dimension. I will try my best to bring you back, of course—but it doesn’t always work.”

  “It doesn’t?” I gulped.

  He patted me on the back. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this hundreds of times. I’ve only missed once or twice.”

  The audience chuckled. They figured he was kidding. I hoped they were right.

  “Is that your sister sitting at the front table?” Amaz-O asked.

  I nodded.

  “Better wave good-bye to her, just in case,” he warned me.

  Ginny smiled and waved at me.

  She can’t wait for me to disappear! I thought bitterly. She hopes I’ll never come back.

  “Go on,” Amaz-O urged. “Wave to her.”

  I smiled weakly and waved at Ginny. The audience laughed. Then Amaz-O led me to a tall black box in the center of the stage. He threw open the door. It looked like a closet inside.

  “Step inside here if you would, please,” he said.

  I stepped inside the box. Amaz-O shut the door firmly.

  It was pitch-black inside that box. I stood still, waiting for something to happen. I could hear Amaz-O talking to the audience.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this box is my own invention—the Fifth Dimension Spin-o-Rama.” I heard him slap his hand against the side of the box.

  “Here’s how it works: my brave volunteer steps inside the box. I lock him in. I spin the box ten times—very fast.