The Return of Abracadabra

by Michael Dahl

  But Charlie stopped. “Wait a second,” he said. “What are we, little kids?” He turned and looked at the demon. It hadn’t moved. It still roared and cackled. Thunder still clapped and lightning still crashed across the ceiling. “These are the same special effects Theopolis used on stage,” Charlie said. “Are we going to let him scare us away so easily?”

  He stomped back up the hall toward the demon. Ty and Bingham stayed behind him.

  “Who dares disturb Theopolis?” the demon growled.

  “That’s the same thing it said before,” Charlie said. “It’s on a loop, I bet. If I can find the projector, I can just switch it off.”

  A hand clamped on his shoulder.

  “Do not approach the demon!” a deep voice said. Charlie spun around and was faced by Theopolis himself.

  “Didn’t you hear the great beast’s warning?” the magician roared. “He protects me at all costs. He is far more powerful than you could possibly imagine! You must run from this place and never come back!”

  Charlie smirked at him and shrugged. Then he walked right up to the demon. He reached around in the smoke until he found a rectangular device. He found a power cord and followed it to the wall. Then he unplugged it.

  The demon vanished. The smoke settled and began to dissipate. The thunder was silenced, and the lightning flashes stopped.

  Charlie turned back to the hallway, holding the end of the power cord in his hand. “How do you explain this, Theopolis?” he asked.

  But there was no reply. The magician had vanished.

  “I’m certain Paul is on the thirteenth floor someplace,” Charlie said once they were back in the lobby. “It’s the quietest floor on the hotel, and we heard someone watching that movie. Space Mutant Invaders Part Ten, or whatever.”

  “Ooh, I love that movie,” Annie Solo said. She took a bite off her cherry licorice whip. “Remember that part when the alien with five tentacles bit the head off the—”

  “That was Space Mutant Invaders Part Four,” Ty said. “In Part Ten, it—”

  “Kind of getting off track here,” Charlie said. “We have a mystery to solve, remember?”

  Annie shrugged. “Maybe you do,” she said. “But I don’t.”

  “You don’t still think Theopolis is a real magician, do you?” Charlie asked. “Not after the special effects show we told you about in the hallway.”

  “Just because the big demon upstairs was fake, that doesn’t mean that Paul’s disappearance was fake too,” Annie said.

  Before Charlie could argue, Ty jumped in.

  “Maybe we should take another look at that wardrobe,” he said. “The one Theopolis used for the trick.”

  “We looked at it already,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Ty said. “And you said something seemed wrong. But you never figured out what.”

  “It’s worth a try,” Charlie said.

  * * *

  Back under the stage, the crews were already moving things around for the evening performance.

  “I hope the wardrobe is still here,” Charlie said. “It’ll be way trickier to sneak a look at it if it’s already upstairs for the show.”

  Two stagehands were standing nearby. “You mean Theopolis’s wardrobe? For the show?” one of them asked.

  Charlie said, “That’s the one. You know where it is?”

  Both stagehands nodded toward the corner, where a huge shape was covered with a dark sheet. “There it is,” said one of the men. “That goofball Theopolis won’t let anyone move it but him or his assistants.”

  “That’s okay with us,” the other stagehand added. “That thing looks heavy.”

  “Yeah, it does,” Charlie said.

  “You kids stay away from it, got it?” the first man said. “I don’t want old Theo thinking someone messed with his precious closet.”

  “Okay, got it,” Charlie said.

  Then the stagehands walked away.

  As soon as the two men were gone, Charlie and Ty rushed over and pulled the sheet from the wardrobe.

  “I don’t know, Hitch,” Ty said once Charlie had opened the wardrobe’s doors. “This thing looks the same to me as it did before.”

  “Me too,” Charlie said. He tried the false bottom, and it opened. Everything was just how he remembered it. He climbed right inside and tapped on every surface.

  “What’s that?” Ty asked, pointing at a black stain on the back inner wall of the wardrobe.

  Charlie squinted at the stain. “It looks printed,” he said. “I think it’s the logo and company name of the manufacturer. It says, ‘Hockney and Sons, 1935.’”

  “Wow,” Ty said. “That thing is really old-time, like Brack.”

  Charlie tapped his chin. “Brack . . . time . . . ” he said quietly. Ty’s words were reminding him of something. Then he snapped his fingers. “Brack’s watch! That’s it!”

  “His watch?” Ty said. “The squirting one?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “What does that have to do with an old wardrobe under the stage?” Ty asked, looking confused.

  “I have a phone call to make,” Charlie said. “Come on.”

  “Thanks for coming down and setting this up so quickly,” Charlie said. He was back in the office behind the front desk again.

  Annie, Ty, and Bingham were sitting in various chairs and couches. At the front of the room, fiddling with cables and a wide-screen monitor, was Kyle Bukowski, president of the Blackstone Middle School A/V Club.

  “It’s no problem,” Kyle said. “You know I’m always happy to help with an audio/video emergency. In a moment, I’ll have all nine videos that we shot of Theopolis’s performance cued up for us.”

  Kyle plugged in a few things, pushed a couple of buttons, and voila! Nine moving images popped up on the monitor, each in its own section. Each little video showed a different angle of Theopolis’s performance.

  They watched the whole vanishing act a couple of times.

  “It’s still amazing,” Annie said, shaking her head. “I’m so impressed.”

  “What are we looking for, exactly?” Ty asked.

  Charlie watched the videos until he saw just the right frame.

  “Kyle, can you pause it right there,” Charlie said, “so we have a clear view of the inside of the wardrobe?”

  “Sure,” Kyle said. He paused one of the nine videos and then zoomed in. “How’s this?”

  “Perfect,” Charlie said. He pointed at the inside of the wardrobe. “Anything look funny to you, Ty?”

  Ty squinted at the screen. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Look at the inside back wall,” Charlie said. He leaned back in the big chair. “What’s not there?”

  Ty squinted. He leaned in closer and closer to the monitor, until his nose practically touched the screen.

  Then his eyes went wide. “The black stamp!” he said.

  Charlie smiled and said, “Hockney and Sons, 1935.”

  “How did you know that wouldn’t be there?” Ty asked.

  “Wait a second,” said Bingham. “Who’s Hockney?”

  “I’ll explain later,” Charlie said. “First we have to find that wardrobe.” He pointed at the one on the monitor.

  “That’s not the real wardrobe?” Annie asked.

  “Nope,” Charlie said. “Not at all.”

  “So where’s the real one?” Ty said.

  “Probably somewhere he could keep a close eye on it,” Charlie said, “and where no one would be likely to stumble upon it.”

  He and Ty thought for a moment, and it came to them at the very same time.

  Together they said, “The thirteenth floor!”

  “But where?” Annie said, shaking her head. “You two have already checked his room, and you roamed the halls. It couldn’t be another r
oom, because he wouldn’t have a key to any other rooms.”

  Charlie smiled at Ty. “Remember how you said every suite has at least two bedrooms?” Charlie said. “I have a hunch about where the second bedroom in Theopolis’s room has disappeared to.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Ty.

  “Before I answer that,” said Charlie, “we should go talk to Brack.”

  Ty squinted at him. “You think he might have seen something?” he asked.

  “Yeah, if he’s been checking out the other elevators,” Charlie said. “He might have seen a couple of men pushing a wardrobe.”

  The thirteenth floor was even darker and creepier than it had been earlier that day.

  Demonic laughter filled the hallway. The floors creaked, even when no one was walking. Every so often, something shadowy would flicker across the hallway ahead of them—always just out of sight.

  “More of Theopolis’s special effects,” Charlie said. “Don’t let them frighten you.”

  “Who—who’s frightened?” said Bingham.

  “You are, for one,” said Ty. “Here’s his room.”

  The three of them stopped in front of room 1305. Charlie knocked. “Mr. Theopolis?” he said.

  The door swung open. “What do you two want?” Theopolis said. “Haven’t you harassed me enough?”

  “The reporter is with us this time,” Charlie said.

  Theopolis’s eyes lit up. “Then enter if you dare!” he shouted.

  Charlie and Ty rolled their eyes, and the three visitors walked in. “Okay, Ty,” said Charlie as Bingham began filming. “If this were a regular two-bedroom suite, where would the second bedroom be?”

  Ty looked around, and his face wrinkled with the strain. “I think,” he said, turning slowly in the living room, “right there.”

  He stopped and pointed at the closet doors. They were tall and black, like the polished top keys of a piano. In fact, much of the room was decorated with the same black finish.

  Charlie strode to the closet and pulled open the doors. The inside of the closet was very familiar. Bright blond wood.

  “It looks just like the wardrobe,” Ty said.

  “Except for one thing that’s missing,” Charlie said. “The stamp.”

  “Do not go into that closet!” Theopolis bellowed. He ran and got between the boys and the closet. “There is great and terrible power in there! I can’t be held responsible for what might happen!”

  “Wait,” Ty said. “Do you hear that? It sounds like another movie. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s Alien Cyborg Attack Part Eight.”

  Charlie smiled. Then he walked right into the closet. He tapped the back wall, and it instantly sprang open.

  “A false back,” Charlie said. “Just as I thought. And the TV we heard was coming from in here, not room 1307 at all.”

  Charlie stepped through the opening, right into the second bedroom. It had been hidden behind the wardrobe, and the wardrobe had been disguised as a simple closet.

  “It is done,” said Charlie, moving aside so that Ty and Bingham could see. “Behold!”

  A young boy sat on the bed. He had a bowl of popcorn in his lap, and was staring at the TV. Sure enough, it was showing Alien Cyborg Attack Part 8.

  “Oh, hi,” the boy said.

  He looked over Charlie’s shoulder to see Ty and Bingham climbing into the bedroom too.

  “Paul Juke!” exclaimed Ty.

  “Hi, Ty. Um, is it over?” Paul asked.

  “Is what over?” Bingham said.

  “Well,” said Paul. “The magic trick, of course.”

  “You’re in on it?” Ty said.

  “Well, yeah,” said Paul. “I’m saving up for a bike, and Uncle Theo said he’d pay me.”

  “This is Joey Bingham for Action 50 news,” the reporter said, grinning at his own camera. “I’m at the Abracadabra Hotel, where the great Theopolis is about to make the boy who vanished at the noon show reappear.”

  The house was packed. Everyone who had gone to the noon show was back, and so were loads of people who had seen Bingham’s earlier reports about the missing boy.

  “Are you sure about this?” Charlie whispered. He sat with Ty on an overturned crate under the stage. They were going to help with the big finish Theopolis had promised. “We can still reveal the truth. We figured out that Theopolis isn’t a true magician, like he claims.”

  “We could do that,” Ty said. “We could also enjoy all the publicity for this show, for the hotel, and for the theater. This is going to do wonders for the Abracadabra Hotel. Besides, you convinced me and Annie, right? And that was the point.”

  Charlie nodded. Just then, one of the stagehands popped his head in the door. “Everyone ready down here?” he said. “Did you get the nails out of the trapdoor?”

  “Yep. We’re ready,” replied Ty.

  Paul got up from his seat against the wall. “Finally,” he said. He stepped up on the crate between Ty and Charlie and added, “Can’t wait to get my new bike. My uncle owes me big time.”

  Charlie and Ty stood and clasped their hands together. “Ready?” said Ty.

  “Ready,” said Paul.

  “One,” they all said together, “two, three!” And with a great grunt, Paul was launched up and through the open trapdoor, into the wardrobe on the stage—the original wardrobe, with the false bottom and stamp that said “Hockney and Sons, 1935.”

  Charlie and Ty sat back down and waited. Seconds later, they heard the crowd above burst into cheers and applause.

  “I guess it went well,” Charlie said.

  “And you know what it means when the hotel does well, and I’ve helped,” said Ty.

  Charlie nodded. “Yup,” he said.

  “A raise,” said Ty. “And soon Paul won’t be the only one with a new bike. Any money I make brings me one step closer to my Tezuki Slamhammer 750, Edition 6, in cherry-pop lightning red.”

  “I guess when you get the bike you won’t need my help anymore,” Charlie said. “Right?”

  Ty shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, there’s always a new mystery at the Abracadabra.”

  “Which reminds me,” Charlie said. “Isn’t Brack planning another huge magic show?”

  “Indeed I am,” a voice said. But when the boys turned to look, Brack was nowhere to be found.

  Exactly one week later, Charlie and Ty stood inside the front doors of the Abracadabra Hotel. The lobby was more crowded than it had been in decades.

  “Wow,” said Charlie. “What’s going on?”

  As a permanent resident of the hotel, Ty should know why the place was packed. But the big guy just shrugged.

  “Beats me,” he said. “I’ll try to find my mom.”

  “In this craziness?” Charlie said.

  While Ty weaved through the crowd to try to reach the registration desk, Charlie tried snooping around. He slipped behind a big marble column and listened to a few people talking.

  “Any idea what the big news is?” said a woman in a suit.

  “Nope,” a man replied. He had a camera around his neck. “We got a call at the paper this morning, and I came right down.”

  Another man walked up in a hurry. “They’re calling us in,” he said, out of breath. “Come on. Let’s get a seat in front if we can.”

  The three people ran off toward the dining room off the lobby. “Reporters,” Charlie said to himself.

  The crowd in the lobby streamed toward the dining room. Charlie spotted a bunch of other people who must be reporters. The rest of them seemed like they might be magicians.

  “I can’t find my mom anywhere,” said Ty, walking up to Charlie. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Well, whatever’s going on,” Charlie said, “it’s going on in there.” He pointed to the dining room.


  “Then let’s go,” said Ty. The boys hurried in just before the doors were closed.

  The tables had been cleared away. At the front of the big room was a stage. A microphone stood in the center.

  Hundreds of chairs had been set up. Reporters and photographers filled the chairs and lined the walls and aisles too. Men and women in tuxedoes and colorful clothes and jester costumes were also sprinkled through the crowd. Ty and Charlie could barely fit in the room.

  “I guess they’re waiting for someone to give a speech,” Charlie whispered. “How did they all find out about this?” he asked Ty.

  “This must be how,” Ty said. He bent over and grabbed a sheet of paper from the carpeted floor.

  Just then, the lights dimmed in the dining room and a spotlight shined on the lectern. “Here goes,” said Charlie.

  And it was just as he suspected. From the side door next to the little stage, out came Brack, the elevator operator of the hotel. Secretly, Brack was Abracadabra himself: the founder and owner of the hotel. But only Charlie knew that.

  “What’s he doing?” Ty said.

  “Thank you all for coming,” said Brack, smiling at the crowd. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you all here this morning,” he said.

  A reporter in the front raised his hand and shouted, “You called us? We thought it was something important.”

  “Yeah!” someone else called out. “You’re just the elevator man!”

  “Ah,” said Brack. He removed his hat. “That is what I’ve come to talk to you about. I am not just the elevator operator.”

  “He also scrubs the toilets,” joked a magician along the wall. Charlie scowled.

  Brack cleared his throat at the microphone. Then he raised both hands in a high, wide arc over his head. He threw back his head and shouted, “Abracadabra!”

  A great puff of smoke came up from the stage floor. The lights flickered and flashed in the dining room. When the smoke cleared, Brack was gone.