Philip and the Superstition Kid (9781452430423)

by Paulits, John

  “Two million times,” Emery said gloomily, thinking of what he’d have to listen to for the week Leon was going to live with him. “Maybe I can move in with you tomorrow.”

  Philip gave an agreeable grunt, knowing that was never going to happen.

  “Well,” said Emery once Leon was out of sight, “at least he didn’t bend down and pick up more mon-ey. He didn’t pick up any mon-ey.”

  “Please!” Philip begged. “Not you, too.”

  He and Emery each scanned the nearby cement and grass for any coins Leon may have missed.

  “Come on,” Emery said as he walked toward his front door. When he opened it he shouted, “I’m back, Mom.”

  A groan came from the living room. The boys went to investigate. Emery’s sister Amy, who had just learned to walk, was climbing on the sofa. Tina, who was even younger than Amy, lay in her bassinet making googly sounds. His mother sat on the sofa, one hand on Amy’s back steadying her and the other hand on her own back.

  “You make that noise, Mom?” Emery asked.

  “My back. I think I hurt a muscle picking up Amy. She’s getting heavy.”

  “Your back?” Emery cried in surprise.

  “How many cracks did you step on?” Philip whispered.

  “I don’t know. Same as you,” Emery whispered back.

  “Just let me sit a minute,” Emery’s mother said wearily. “Watch her.”

  “I gotta use your phone. Okay?” Philip asked.

  Emery’s mother pointed to the phone on the end table next to the sofa.

  Emery went to guide Amy along the back of the sofa while Philip punched in his number.

  “Hi, Mom. It’s me. How’s your back?”

  Philip listened and then said good-bye and looked at Emery.

  “What’d she say?” Emery asked.

  “She said ‘Fine, how’s your foot?’” Philip shrugged.

  Emery’s mother gave Philip a long look. Then she said, “Emery, stop climbing all over the sofa in your dirty sneakers.”

  “You told me to follow Amy.”

  “All right. All right. I’ve had my rest. You can go now. It’s one mess after another around here.”

  “I didn’t make any mess,” Emery argued, brushing a dirty footprint off a sofa cushion.

  “Last night it was the cutlery. Today it’s a mirror. Somebody broke a mirror.” She gave Amy an accusing look.

  Amy laughed and waved her arms around.

  “It’s a wonder she didn’t split an artery,” Emery’s mother grumbled.

  “What’s cutlery?” Philip whispered.

  Emery motioned Philip out of the room. When they passed by the kitchen Emery paused.

  “Mom, there’s a jar of jelly broken on the floor.” He and Philip stared at the goopy blob of purple next to the kitchen table.

  “I dropped that when the mirror went crash,” Emery’s mother called in a voice louder than necessary.

  “Breaking a mirror’s a bad luck thing,” Emery whispered.

  Philip nodded. “I know. What was the cutlery thing?”

  “Oh, that’s knives and forks and spoons. Last night I pulled out the drawer too far and everything spilled on the floor. The babies got scared at the noise and started crying and nobody could eat dinner except me.”

  “Let’s go upstairs,” Philip suggested. “I got an idea.”

  The boys went to Emery’s room and threw themselves onto the floor.

  Philip explained. “Look, we don’t want Leon to be messing up the beginning of summer, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Because he’s the biggest bad luck ever, right?”

  “Right, right.”

  “And now he’s got rabbits’ feet so he thinks he lost all his bad luck.”

  Emery nodded.

  “Let’s find some things that will make Leon think he’s got bad luck again—so much bad luck that . . . that he begs his parents to take him on their vacation.”

  Emery shook his head. “They won’t do that. Nope. N-O. They tried Aunt Marie and now I’m stuck with him. Besides, there’s no time. He said they’re leaving tomorrow.”

  Philip thought and then nodded. “I guess so. Well, he’s so superstitious now maybe we can make him believe that leaving the house is bad luck. Then he’d never leave the house.”

  “He’d just buy more rabbits feet. He’s got the money,” Emery said with some jealousy.

  “No, we have to find superstitions he’ll believe are stronger than rabbits’ feet.”

  “He’ll guess we’re trying to get rid of him. We’re always trying to get rid of him. He knows that. He’s not superstitious enough to believe what we tell him.”

  “Leon believes everything we tell him. Didn’t we invent that game once and he stayed in the closet for six hours because he thought he was winning?”

  Emery nodded, remembering the scolding he got from his mother for that little trick. But it had given him and Philip a whole day at the playground without Leon.

  Suddenly, the boys heard a scream from outside. They ran to Emery’s window and were shocked to see Leon running along the sidewalk at top speed.

  “What’s he doing?” Philip asked softly.

  “Who knows?” Emery said disgustedly, lifting the screen so he and Philip could lean out and watch Leon.

  When Leon reached the corner, he paused, turned, and ran back toward them just a fast as he could.

  “Is he holding his nose? I think he’s holding his nose. He is holding his nose,” Philip noticed in amazement.

  “Maybe he pooped his pants,” Emery suggested.

  Philip ignored Emery. “There he goes.”

  Leon tore past the window, his fingers still pinching his nose. The boys watched Leon pause at the corner, cross the street, and start running down the other sidewalk.

  “Call him,” Philip suggested.

  When Leon drew near, Emery shouted, “Hey, Leon. What are you doing?”

  Leon turned his head and saw his friends. He switched the hand he was holding his nose with and waved the other hand at the two boys. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he cried as he kept going.

  Philip and Emery watched Leon’s travels as if they were hypnotized. When Leon got to the corner, he crossed to Emery’s side of the street and started running again.

  “Here he comes,” said Philip.

  “Leon,” Emery cried again.

  This time Leon pulled to a halt, breathing hard.

  “What are you doing, Leon?” Emery called down.

  “I saw a man walking with a limp. He really had a limp. He went right past me. Up and down; up and down. Limp, limp, limp.”

  “Leon, let go of your nose,” Emery ordered. “You sound stupid.”

  “I can’t. I can’t. I saw a man walking with a limp.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Emery demanded.

  “If you see a man with a limp, you get bad luck unless you hold your nose until you see a dog. I can’t find a dog. I was just having good luck and now this,” Leon cried in his twangy, nose-holding voice. “Ahhhhhhhhh.” And off he charged, looking for a dog.

  Philip and Emery pulled their heads back inside the window, and Emery lowered the screen.

  “He’s running around the neighborhood holding his nose and screaming while he’s looking for a dog because he saw somebody limping,” Philip repeated as if he were in a daze.

  “That’s Leon,” Emery said, equally stunned.

  “And you don’t think Leon’s superstitious enough for us to fool him into never leaving the house?”

  Emery nodded slowly. “I think you may be right. What’ll we do?”

  “Turn on your computer and let’s look up superstitions. I’ll bet we can find some good ones—ones that will have Leon holding his nose and screaming the whole time he’s here.”

  Chapter Four

  After finally agreeing on how to spell “superstitions,” Emery hit the Search key.

  “Wow!” Emery said. “So
many sites.”

  “Pick the first one,” Philip ordered impatiently. “Before Leon sees a dog and comes up here.”

  From outside they heard, “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

  “There he goes,” said Philip in quiet amazement.

  “Those two dogs from before must have left the neighborhood, I guess.”

  “Pick a site,” Philip repeated.

  Emery tapped the keyboard, and Philip crowded in to look over his shoulder.

  “There’s a long list of superstitions,” Emery said, glancing at the list. “Rabbit’s foot is first.”

  Philip nodded. “’Cause everybody knows that one. Go down further.”

  “Four-leaf clover,” Emery read next. “I heard of that one.”

  “There’s Don’t go under a ladder. Everybody knows that one, too,” said Philip.

  “Hey! Look at the Broken mirror one. It says seven years bad luck unless you bury the pieces of broken mirror outside.”

  Philip knew what Emery was thinking. “Emery, this is all just make-believe.”

  “Leon found money.”

  “Yeah, he found money and now he’s running around the neighborhood holding his nose and screaming for a dog,” Philip argued impatiently.

  “Seven years is a long time—until I’m sixteen.”

  “Emery, you didn’t break the mirror. Why would you get the bad luck? Just look for more.”

  Emery stabbed the screen with a finger. “Look. Step on a crack and break your mother’s back.”

  “Your mother didn’t break her back,” Philip said, his voice rising as it often did when he discussed things with Emery. “And I stepped on cracks and my mother’s back didn’t break.”

  “Yet.”

  “Emery . . .” Philip began.

  “Look, look, look.” Emery stabbed the screen with his finger again. “Read it.”

  Philip read aloud. “If you drop a fork it means a man is coming to visit. If you drop a knife, a woman is coming to visit. If you drop a spoon, a child is coming to visit.”

  “I dropped all those things last night. I dropped spoons. Lots of spoons. Must have been seven spoons because Leon’s coming to visit for seven days! Stupid spoons.”

  Philip thought a moment. “No man or woman came to visit from the knives and forks.”

  “Yet.”

  The front doorbell rang and the boys heard Mrs. Wyatt call, “Emery, will you get that please?”

  Emery and Philip shared a leery glance.

  “Come on,” said Emery. “Let’s go see.”

  The boys went downstairs. A small tinny clank sound came from the kitchen. Emery and Philip peeked in. Mrs. Wyatt was staring dismayed at a baby spoon lying on the kitchen floor amid a splash of what looked like creamed spinach. Amy was joyfully slapping her hands on the tray of the high chair.

  “Want that spoon, Mom?” Emery asked.

  His mother nodded wearily.

  Emery picked up the spoon and handed it to her. “You got spinach in your hair, Mom.”

  “I love my family,” Mrs. Wyatt mumbled. “I love my family. I love my family.”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Uh, I’ll get the door,” Emery said.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Philip asked.

  “She’s like that a lot. I don’t know.” Emery opened the front door.

  “Hello, Emery. Can we see your mom?”

  Philip and Emery stared. There on the step were Mr. and Mrs. Reid from across the street.

  “She’s in the kitchen,” Emery said blankly. The Reids walked by, and Emery turned to Philip. “A man and a woman. Uh, oh, hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Philip asked, wondering what else could go wrong.

  “Listen.”

  Philip cocked his head and heard what Emery heard. A faint chorus of “I saw a dog-gie. I saw a dog-gie,” came from nearby.

  “Leon!” Philip cried.

  “Amy’s spoon,” Emery echoed in dismay.

  Then Leon came into sight. He was smiling and singing, “I saw a dog-gie. I saw a dog-gie.” He turned up the path toward Emery’s front door.

  “Yuk yuk,” came his laugh. “I saw a dog and made the bad luck go away. And I found another penny.” Leon reached into his pocket and suddenly a look of alarm crossed his face. “Hey, where’s my money?”

  “Check your other pocket,” Emery advised.

  Leon rifled through all of his pockets. “I lost my money,” he said with a note of despair. “I lost my money. All the money I found. How could I lose my money? I saw a doggie.”

  “Maybe it bounced out of your pocket while you were running around holding your nose,” Philip said sarcastically.

  Leon stepped inside the house and Emery closed the door. Leon moaned and put his hand up to his forehead. “Oh, no. The sneeze. The sneeze.”

  “What sneeze? What are you talking about?” Emery snapped.

  “Before I saw the doggie I had to sneeze. I let go of my nose to sneeze because if you hold your nose and sneeze, your ears explode and all your ear gunk comes flying out.”

  After a pause Philip said, “Ear gunk?”

  “Gunk from your ear,” Leon said sadly.

  “We can figure out where ear gunk comes from, Leon,” Emery said in exasperation.

  “I let go of my nose to sneeze before I saw a doggie. Now I’ve got my bad luck back. Ohhh,” Leon moaned. “I should have just shot my ear gunk into the air.” Leon tossed his left hand out showing what the explosion might look like, and then he lowered his forehead onto his right palm.

  Philip and Emery exchanged a disgusted look. Then Philip nodded to Emery.

  “Uh, we’ll help keep you out of bad luck,” Philip promised. “I’m your friend.”

  “Yeah, you can depend on us. I’m your cousin,” Emery reassured Leon.

  “No, no,” Leon disagreed. “My bad luck is back. And I may have a disease, too.”

  “A disease?” Emery cried as he and Philip took a step back. “What disease?”

  “I can’t tell you. I have to go to my therapist this afternoon, and he’ll tell me whether I have it or not.”

  Emery shook his head in confusion.

  “What therapist? What are you talking about, Leon?” Emery asked.

  “He’s my doctor and he helps me try to get rid of my bad luck. You remember, I always used to have bad luck?”

  Philip and Emery rolled their eyes and Emery said, “Yeah, you used to.”

  “He’s the one who told me to carry lots of rabbits’ feet.”

  “The doctor’s prescription was rabbits’ feet?” Philip repeated in amazement, thinking of the pills and the needles he usually got when he went to his doctor.

  “And it was working. I was having such good luck. But now—the sneeze. Oh, the sneeze. One little, stupid, unlucky sneeze.”

  “Why don’t you go and get ready for your appointment?” Emery suggested, opening the front door again and giving Leon a gentle push. “You need it and you’re probably late already.”

  Like a well-oiled robot Leon walked outside and started down the path. “Oh, the sneeze,” he kept repeating. This time, though, he wasn’t singing.

  Chapter Five

  “How can I put up with a whole week of that?” Emery moaned as he and Philip went back upstairs to his room.

  “Yeah, but we know what to do now. Let’s go check those superstitions. They must have some that Leon didn’t hear of yet. Where’d you stop before?”

  Emery returned to the computer and pointed at the screen. “I stopped here. Cross your fingers for good luck. Everybody knows that one.”

  “Move. Let me look.” Philip replaced Emery in the computer chair. “Cats have nine lives. Eating fish makes you smart. My grandmother told me that one.”

  “Maybe we can get Leon to eat a cat so he’ll think he has nine lives,” Emery suggested.

  Philip turned to look at his friend and just shook his head. He looked back at th
e monitor. “Here’s one. Singing before breakfast gives you bad luck all day.”

  “Where? Let me see.” Emery read where Philip pointed. “Yeah, good. Only we’ll tell him any singing, mmm any singing . . .” Emery paused to think.

  “I got it!” Philip cried. “Any singing on a day that’s spelled with a ‘d’ means bad luck all that day.”

  Emery thought a moment. “That’s every day,” he laughed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s good. That should take care of Leon’s singing. I saw a dog-gie. I saw a dog-gie,” Emery mimicked.

  Philip laughed and the two boys slapped palms.

  “Find more,” Emery said encouragingly.

  “This is a good one. Wearing a dress inside out will bring you good luck.”

  Philip and Emery looked at one another and burst out laughing.

  “He’d do it,” Emery said in between breaths.

  “He would. He would,” Philip laughed.

  “Find more.”

  “Look at this one,” Philip said.

  Emery wiped the tears from his eyes, he had laughed so hard.

  Philip read, “If you go to bed naked, then you’ll wet the bed that night.”

  Emery stopped laughing abruptly. “What?”

  “Here, look.”

  Emery read the superstition and said, “I’m gonna make Leon wear two pairs of pajamas when he goes to bed.”

  “Tell him wearing a diaper to bed will bring good luck.”

  The boys looked at each other and burst into laughter again.

  “Here; Never say good-bye to a friend on a bridge if you want to see that friend again,” Philip read.

  “Did we ever say good-bye on a bridge?”

  Philip racked his memory and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “That one might really work,” Emery said thoughtfully. “Is there a bridge around here we can take Leon to and say good-bye on?”

  “We’ll look for one later. How about this one? If three people are in a photo, the middle one will soon be hurt.”

  Emery nodded. “That’s a good one. We can get my mother to take our picture and then show Leon the superstition.”

  “Yeah, tell him he can’t get hurt if he just stays in the house.”