Magical Monty

by Johanna Hurwitz

  “Chicken. Do you think you’ll melt?” one of the boys asked.

  “I won’t melt, but I won’t march either,” Ilene said firmly.

  Monty thought it might be fun to march in the rain. Maybe they could all hold umbrellas.

  “Personally, I love the rain,” Sensei Jack said. “But the instructions say that if it rains, the parade will be canceled. However, the good news is that the long-range weather forecast predicts sunny skies.”

  The karate students burst into applause. They all agreed that it would be fun to march in the parade.

  Sure enough, when Monty awoke on Memorial Day, the sun was shining. He started getting dressed in his jeans and a T-shirt when he remembered that he was supposed to wear his karate uniform. Mrs. Morris came into his room. “Leave your T-shirt on,” she told her son. “You can wear it under the karate clothes. That way you’ll look just like everyone else, but I won’t have to worry about you being too cool.”

  Monty was used to his mother worrying about his health. He was too excited about the parade to waste time arguing. He put his orange belt around his waist and tied it carefully.

  “Hurry, Monty,” his mother called up the stairs.

  And so Monty quickly slipped his feet into his sneakers and tied only a single knot. No time for double knots this morning.

  Monty rushed downstairs, ready to leave the house.

  “You can’t go without a good breakfast,” his mother insisted. “How will you have the energy to walk two miles?”

  “Two miles?”

  “Yes. From Dubby Street and Bogdan Avenue to the end of the parade route is equivalent to forty blocks, or two miles.”

  “Wow,” said Monty, impressed. Two miles seemed like a long distance. So he sat down at the table and ate most of his bowl of cereal with a banana cut up in it. He looked over at his sister.

  “Will you bring Mandy to watch me?” he asked.

  “We will come for the start of the parade, but I’ll have to bring her home before the end,” his mom said.

  Finally they left the house. Monty’s dad went ahead and parked their car near the end of the parade route. “That way you won’t have to walk home when it’s over. You’ll probably be pretty tired by then.”

  “Oh, no,” Monty insisted. “I won’t be tired at all.”

  Monty’s mom pushed Mandy in the carriage, and just as they were starting off, Mr. Kelly pulled up in his car with Arlene and Ilene. The sisters were wearing their karate uniforms too. “How about a lift?” offered Mr. Kelly.

  “Good idea,” agreed Monty’s mom. “Save your energy for the marching,” she told her son. “I’ll wave to you when you pass by.”

  So Monty and the twins drove off, and Mrs. Morris walked on, pushing Mandy in her carriage.

  The parade began at 9:15 a.m. There were loads and loads of people waiting to begin the march. The karate students stood together.

  “White belts first,” called out the sensei. Those were the beginners who hadn’t been studying very long. Monty remembered back when he had been a white belt.

  “Yellow belts next,” called out the sensei. This was the next group of students. Monty remembered back when he had been a yellow belt.

  “Orange belts next,” called out the sensei. Monty stood tall and proud. The mayor’s car started off, followed by the flag carriers. The first band began marching and playing their instruments.

  “Remember, it’s left-right, left-right. Keep in step. And keep your heads high,” called out a woman who was one of the organizers. She was carrying a clipboard and checking off the groups.

  “All right. Off you go!” the organizer shouted to the karate students.

  All traffic had been halted. There were no cars on the street, only marchers. Monty felt very proud. He had never imagined he would be in a parade. It sure made him feel important. He kept his head high, as he had been instructed, and whispered to himself, “Left-right. Left-right.” He could hear the marching tunes that the bands were playing, and it made him want to march and march forever. Marching was so much fun, and it was so easy, he thought.

  Monty turned his head a little to see if he could find his mother among the people watching the parade.

  “Hi, Monty!” called a voice.

  Even without seeing her, Monty knew it was his mom who had shouted.

  He wanted to wave, but he didn’t. However, he did permit a large grin to cross his face.

  Sensei Jack was marching alongside his students. “Attention!” he shouted. “Five jumping jacks.”

  At once all the students raised their arms and demonstrated their jumping jacks.

  “Are you getting tired?” a voice asked Monty.

  It was Ilene. “Oh, no,” he told her. “What about you?”

  “I’m tired,” she said. “I wish the parade was over.”

  “Not me,” said Arlene.

  “I bet you are tired,” said Ilene. “You just won’t tell.”

  “Am not. I could walk a hundred miles.”

  “A hundred miles. We’d be dead by then.”

  “No talking,” Sensei Jack called out. “Eyes front. Just keep walking.”

  Monty was glad that he was wearing his sneakers. When the students had karate class, they were barefoot. It would be hard to march two miles without any shoes.

  But in the next moment, Monty was sorry he was wearing his sneakers.

  Someone marching behind him accidentally stepped on the heel of Monty’s sneaker, and suddenly his right foot was half in and half out of his footwear.

  “Sorry, I gave you a flat tire” said the person behind him. A flat tire was what the kids called making someone’s shoe come off.

  Monty tried to get his right foot back into the sneaker as he marched along, limping, with his foot half out of his sneaker. He couldn’t. Maybe he would march better if he took the sneaker off and put it back on properly. Planning to pick it up, he managed to kick at his right sneaker with the left one, and he succeeded in getting his foot out of the sneaker. But before he could even bend down to get it, someone else kicked the sneaker farther down the street. Now Monty was marching with one sneaker on and one sneaker off.

  He hoped someone would pick it up and pass it back to him. However, instead, it seemed that whoever saw the sneaker gave it a kick. The sneaker was making its way along the parade route, and Monty was marching with a sneaker on his left foot and nothing but a sock on his right.

  Marching in the parade was no longer so much fun after all. The foot without the sneaker felt every bump and pebble on the street, and that didn’t feel good. Would this parade never end?

  No one seemed aware that Monty had only one sneaker until he suddenly heard a loud whistle and then a voice calling out, “What happened to your sneaker?”

  It was Joey. Maybe no one else had noticed, but Monty’s friend had.

  It was bad enough that he had to march this way. Now everyone looked at the feet of the marchers to identify him. So he tried calling out an explanation. But Sensei Jack suddenly became aware of his student.

  “Don’t worry, Monty. Only a few more blocks!” he shouted.

  How wonderful, Monty thought. The parade was almost over.

  “I’ll never walk again,” said Arlene.

  “See. I knew that you were tired,” said Ilene.

  “We’re all tired,” said Sensei Jack. “Come on. We’re almost there.

  And finally, there they were, at the town green, where the parade concluded. There were two women giving out cardboard containers of orange juice. “Thanks for participating,” they told the children.

  One of the women was holding a sneaker. “Did anyone lose this?” she asked.

  Monty came forward.

  “You won’t have to try this on like Cinderella,” the woman said. “I can see that it’s yours.”

  Monty blushed as he sat down on the curb and put his sneaker back on his foot. This time he tied it with a double knot. Then he opened his container and pushed t
he little straw inside. The cool juice felt wonderful going down his throat. It was orange, just like his belt, but he knew he would have enjoyed it no matter what flavor or color it had been.

  “Here I am, Monty. Ready to go home?” called out Mr. Morris.

  Monty ran over to his dad. “I lost my sneaker, but I still marched the two whole miles,” he reported.

  Mr. Morris looked down at his son’s feet. “Well, I see that you found it again,” he said. Then he called to Ilene and Arlene because he had offered to take them home for their father.

  The three children threw away their empty juice containers and collapsed onto the backseat of the car.

  “I’m never doing that marching again,” said Ilene.

  Monty was just about to agree with her, but his father spoke first.

  “Oh, I bet you will,” said Mr. Morris. “After all, it will be easier next year.”

  “Why?” asked Monty.

  “Next year you’ll be so much bigger. Next year you’ll be in second grade.”

  “Wow. Second grade,” said Arlene.

  “Okay,” said Ilene. “I guess it won’t be so hard when I’m in second grade. I’ll march next year too,” she agreed.

  “Me too,” said Monty. Next year I’ll tie my laces better and make a double knot, he thought. Then my sneaker won’t come off. He wondered what color karate belt he would have by May of next year.

  It was a Saturday in June. Mandy was already two months old, and for Monty it was just two months before his seventh birthday. There were only two more weeks of school until he finished first grade. He hoped he would like second grade as much as first.

  Monty was sitting on one of the steps in front of his house. He had the book of instructions from his magic set in his lap. Monty still hadn’t mastered the trick of making a coin disappear.

  Today wouldn’t be a good day to practice sliding a coin up his sleeve because he was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt. Maybe, however, he could figure out how to use the coin box.

  Monty removed the blue plastic box from his pocket. He slid it open and inside there was a fake penny also made of plastic. The instructions said to remove the coin and show it to his audience. That part was easy. But how could he put the coin back in the box and make it disappear?

  It seemed to Monty that he had already read the instructions a hundred times. He sighed. Maybe reading the instructions for the one hundred and first time, he would learn what to do. He read slowly. Put the box behind your back while you are speaking to your audience. Slid the secret panel open and place the coin inside. Close the box. Turn around. Then show it to your audience.

  His mother was sitting beside him pushing the carriage with Mandy inside. She pushed it back and forth waiting for the baby to fall asleep.

  “Babies sure sleep a lot,” said Monty, looking up from the secret coin box.

  “Not at night,” said Mrs. Morris with a sigh.

  Monty had been amazed to learn that every night while he was sound asleep, Mandy woke crying, demanding to be fed.

  “How come I never hear her?” Monty had asked his parents.

  “Because you’re sound asleep. And hopefully before long Mandy will sleep all night long too. Babies do a lot of their growing when they sleep. And besides, they are too little to do any of the things that you can do when they’re awake.”

  Monty grinned at the thought of Mandy trying to ride a scooter. She still couldn’t walk. She couldn’t even sit up yet. He stood up and peeked into the carriage. Mandy saw him and waved her arms.

  “Don’t distract her, please,” said Mrs. Morris. “I want her to get a good rest.”

  Monty sat down on the step again. He looked across the street at Joey’s house but he knew that Joey wasn’t home. He’d gone with his family to visit relatives in another town. Monty knew that the twins weren’t home either. They’d told him where they were going but he couldn’t remember.

  Monty sighed. He wished his sister were big enough to play with him. It seemed to him that by the time she could play games, he’d be in high school. “I wish something exciting would happen,” he said, looking up and down the street. It was very quiet. An occasional car drove past but there were no people walking. Everyone was either inside their house or out for the day.

  “The best days are when nothing exciting happens,” Monty’s mom said. “It was exciting when you were rushed to the hospital a couple of years ago with a bad asthma attack. But it’s much better when you get through the day without sirens and ambulances and emergency rooms and things like that.”

  Monty nodded. “I don’t want that kind of excitement. I’d like a good excitement.”

  “It was exciting when Mandy was born,” said Mrs. Morris. “But we couldn’t manage a new baby every day.”

  Monty giggled. It would be funny if their house were filled with new babies.

  “Can I push the carriage?” he asked his mother.

  “Sure,” she said.

  Monty put the blue plastic coin box into his pocket. Then he reached for the handle of the carriage and pushed it back and forth the way his mother had been doing.

  “Do you think Mandy can tell the difference when I push her and when you push her?” he asked.

  Mrs. Morris shrugged. “Probably not,” she said. “I think she’s half asleep already.”

  Monty pushed some more.

  Mrs. Morris kicked at the brake with her foot. The carriage stopped moving. “All right,” she said. “Mandy is asleep. She’ll probably sleep for the next hour or even hour and a half.”

  Monty sighed. He looked down at the book of magic instructions. His scooter was inside the house, so he could always take a ride. Still, he still felt it was going to be a long and boring afternoon.

  “When will dad be home?” he asked.

  Even though it was Saturday, when he usually stayed home, Mr. Morris had needed to go into his office that day.

  “Maybe in another hour,” said Monty’s mom. “I bet he’ll take you to the playground when he gets home,” she told her son.

  Monty nodded. Sometimes an hour went by very fast, like when he was playing with Joey. And sometimes an hour seemed to take forever, like right now.

  “I think I’ll get my knitting,” said Mrs. Morris. “Will you watch Mandy while I run into the house?”

  “Sure,” said Monty.

  Mrs. Morris got up from the step and went into the house. Monty stood and peeked in the carriage. Mandy was fast asleep. He tried to push the carriage a little, but because the brake was on, it didn’t move. He kicked at the brake and released it. Then he could move the carriage back and forth just a little. It would be fun to walk down the street pushing the carriage, he thought. Mandy wouldn’t even know, and he didn’t think his mother would mind. She often walked up and down the street pushing the carriage.

  Monty started off. Suddenly he felt a tickle in his nose. Instinctively he lifted his hands to cover his nose and keep the germs in his sneeze from going toward the baby. But when he removed his hands from the handlebar, the carriage began moving down the street on its own. It went at a more rapid pace than when Monty had been pushing it. Monty sneezed and ran at the same time. He had to catch up with the carriage.

  Somehow despite all the thousands of times he had walked or ridden his scooter down the street, he had never noticed the slight incline. The carriage rolled faster and faster. Monty raced after it.

  “Oh no,” Monty cried aloud. His sister was asleep inside the carriage. He had to catch it and rescue her before there was a crash.

  “Monty!” a voice shrieked loudly. It was his mother.

  She was running down the street toward Monty, who was running down the street toward the carriage.

  “Mandy!” shrieked another voice.

  It was Monty’s father, who had just pulled up in his car beside their house. He jumped out and ran down the street toward Mrs. Morris, who was running down the street toward Monty, who was running down the street toward the car
riage.

  But just then, Monty noticed something. The carriage was slowing down because the incline in the sidewalk had ended. He caught up with the runaway carriage and grabbed the handle. He peeked inside. Mandy was still fast asleep. She didn’t even know what an adventure she’d just had.

  Mrs. Morris caught up with Monty and the carriage, and a second later Monty’s dad caught up with all of them.

  “It’s all right,” said Monty, gasping for breath. “Mandy’s okay.”

  “Are you all right?” asked his mother as she caught her breath.

  “Yes, yes,” Monty assured her.

  Mrs. Morris turned the carriage around, and she and Monty’s father and Monty, along with Mandy in the carriage, slowly walked back to their house.

  “Oh, look!” screamed Monty, pointing to their car.

  The car was slowly moving down the street, although no one was inside driving it!

  “Oh, my heavens!” shouted Mr. Morris, running after his car. Luckily he caught up with it, and luckily no one had gotten hurt by the runaway car. “I was so worried about the carriage rolling down the street and both of you chasing after it that I just jumped out of the car,” he explained when he returned to them. “I don’t know which is worse: a runaway carriage or a runaway car.”

  “It’s all right,” said Mrs. Morris. “They both were stopped, and no one got hurt.”

  She pushed the carriage to the front of their house and put down the brake. “Now I’m going to do my knitting,” she announced as she sat down on the step.

  “I’ll go fix myself a sandwich,” said Monty’s father. “And then I’ll take you to the playground if you’d like.”

  “Sure,” said Monty, sitting down next to his mother.

  “You know what?” he asked her.

  “No. What?” she inquired.

  “We had an exciting afternoon after all.”

  “Yes, we did,” said Mrs. Morris. “And wasn’t I right? It’s much better not to have exciting times.”