Philip and the Fortune Teller (9781619501317)

by Paulits, John

  Emery cleared his throat. “Uh, it means he died?”

  “Yes! But then the president of the company said something that sent horrible chills through the heart of the old man. He said the company’s insurance policy would pay them five hundred thousand dollars because of the accident! They had gotten the money they’d wished for! When the old man reported the horrible news to his wife, his wife nearly went insane. ‘We wished our son’s death. We killed our own son,’ she moaned. She and her husband were torn apart by the realization that their wish for wealth came true at the expense of the life of their only son.”

  The gypsy paused, and Philip reminded himself to breathe.

  “What then?” Emery whispered.

  “They still had two wishes, and the old woman knew exactly what to wish for. She wanted her son back. The old man agreed. If the first wish came true, so would the second one. That very night they sat in the dark at their dining room table. This time the woman spoke the wish out loud. ‘I wish to have my son back.’ They waited. The night was quiet; as quiet as a tomb. Only eight minutes later they heard the sound of something being dragged through the street toward their house. They heard a scraping sound and then a pause. Scrape. Pause. Something approached their front door! Louder and louder; nearer and nearer came the scraping sound. Then it stopped. Right outside their door! Then RAP! One solitary knock on their door. The old woman leaped up. ‘My son,’ she screamed. RAP! Another lonely knock. The woman started to the door, but her husband was wiser. He realized what his wife did not. Her wish had come true! Too true. He grabbed his wife and would not let her go near the door. The wife screamed to be let free to see her son again. RAP!”

  The boys jumped as the pharaoh gave another loud knock on the door.

  “The old man wrapped his arms around his wife and screamed at the top of his lungs, ‘I wish my son back where he came from. Immediately!’ The old woman began to beat at her husband, not realizing the wisdom of his choice. They froze as the scraping sound again began, this time moving away. Soon, the noise faded into nothingness.”

  The pharaoh stared at the boys and nodded his head slowly.

  “Do you know why the man wished his son away?”

  Emery and Philip shook their heads silently.

  “Remember, he had fallen into a machine. He was terribly hurt. He was dead. A dreadful dead person had come back to life and stood knocking on their front door! The old man had figured out what happened and wisely sent the son away. So, my dear children, you must be very careful what you wish for. Because wishes . . . do . . . come . . . true.”

  The pharaoh stood and walked to the tent entrance. He opened the flap, and sunlight flooded in, making the boys wince.

  “Go now. And I wish you the wisdom of the old man.”

  Philip and Emery stood and, like two people in trances, stepped out of the tent and onto the midway. They walked two blocks before Emery broke the silence.

  “You want to make your wish first?” he asked.

  “What? Me? No. You can go first.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

  “Let’s go sit in Mrs. Logan’s bushes,” Philip suggested. “I’m all out of breath, and I didn’t even do anything.”

  “Good idea,” Emery agreed. “We better think about this.”

  The boys hurried back to their hideout in Mrs. Logan’s bushes. They looked at each other questioningly. Finally, Philip spoke.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t ask for money. You see what happened to those other people when they asked for money.”

  “You don’t think saying the things we wanted this morning was like really making the wishes, and it counted, do you?”

  “How could it count for real? We didn’t even have the three wishes yet.”

  “I wish we knew about this story before we gave the box back.”

  “Emery!” Philip screamed. “You just made a wish!”

  “I did? No, I didn’t. Oh, no. I did. I take it back; I take it back,” Emery cried looking up toward the sky.

  The boys waited. They didn’t know for what, but they waited.

  “I don’t think your wish counted,” Philip said softly. “If it did . . . if it did, we’d already know the story before the pharaoh told us.”

  “But we know the story now. How do we know we didn’t know it before he told us?”

  “Because.”

  “Because what?”

  “Because I still remember being surprised by the story. If we knew the story before the pharaoh told it to us, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

  “Oh, yeah. Me, too. I guess you’re right. We gotta be careful.” Emery paused. “How do you think the money would come if we wished for it?”

  “I don’t even want to think about it. Let’s forget money until we figure out how to get it safely.”

  “We could wish for money and say it has to come without anybody getting hurt.”

  “That would be two wishes.”

  “We have three.”

  “Yeah, but maybe you can’t make two wishes at the same time. Maybe if you do, only the first one counts.”

  That silenced Emery.

  Philip had another thought. “What about your wish about your sisters? That you wouldn’t hear them crying. Suppose your wish made you deaf, or you had an accident, and your ears got chopped off. Then you wouldn’t hear them.”

  Emery’s eyes bugged. “My ears got chopped off!” He reached up and grabbed onto them. “Yeah, well how about you? Not having any brothers or sisters to bother you? Suppose that came true because . . .”

  “Never mind. Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”

  The boys fell silent again.

  Emery had an idea. “Maybe we should just wish for a new comic book or something simple.”

  “Seems like an awful waste of a wish. We could buy a new comic book. A comic book’s nothing.”

  The boys didn’t stay in Mrs. Logan’s bushes much longer because everything they thought of frightened them. Every wish they discussed seemed to lead to disaster. When they exited the bushes, they headed for the playground. They joined in a game of baseball, but they didn’t enjoy themselves very much. Afterwards, they stopped into Emery’s house, but the babies were fussing, so they quickly left and went to Philip’s quiet house.

  “Enjoying your summer?” Philip’s mother asked them. Philip could see she was getting ready to go out.

  “Yeah, so much,” Philip responded gloomily. “Where are you going?”

  “Walking over to the library. Want to come?”

  “No, we’ll stay here.”

  “Okay. Your father will be home soon. Emery, would you like to stay for dinner? I’ll make hamburgers if you do.”

  “Stay, Emery,” Philip advised.

  “Sure. Thanks,” Emery said without much enthusiasm.

  “I’ll be back soon.” The boys watched Philip’s mother leave the house.

  “Now what?” Emery asked.

  “Why don’t we Google ‘wishes’ and see what it says. Maybe it’ll show how to make a safe wish.”

  “Yeah,” Emery said hopefully. “Maybe it’ll tell us if we can make two wishes at the same time.” They went upstairs to Philip’s computer and began their research.

  ~ * ~

  Philip’s father came upstairs as the boys were shutting down the computer.

  “Is Mom home yet?” Philip asked.

  “She came in right behind me. Where’d she go?” his father answered.

  “She went to the library. We’re having hamburgers for dinner. Emery’s staying.”

  “Ah, that’s nice. How are you Emery?”

  “I wish I was better.”

  Philip jabbed Emery with his elbow.

  “Why what’s wrong?” Philip’s father asked.

  “Nothing. I’m okay.”

  “Oh, your mother is paging me. See you at dinner.”

  “You just wasted another wish. You wished you were better. Don’t be saying ‘I wish’
anything,” Philip scolded. “Where’s your brain?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Emery!” Philip screamed.

  “Oh, sorry, sorry.”

  “Uh, do you feel better?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Good? It’s good I don’t feel better?”

  “Yeah. It means the wish didn’t come true, so it didn’t count.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. But I still don’t like what the computer said about wishes. It was like wishes were always make-believe and only in stories.”

  “I know. I know. Aladdin and Snow White.”

  “And why did they mention a monkey’s paw? What’s a monkey got to do with anything?”

  “How do I know,” Philip said in irritation. An unsettling suspicion had begun to nag at him. “Do you think . . . you think the gypsy really can grant wishes?”

  “He could if he was in a story.”

  “Well, he’s not in a story, Emery. Maybe we should try an easy wish—an official wish—and we could see whether it comes true or not. Something safe.”

  “Well, I’m hungry.” Emery tilted his head up and in a haunted house, echo-y voice said, “I wish for dinner now.”

  Philip’s mother’s voice came from downstairs.

  “Come on down, boys. The hamburgers are cooking.”

  Philip and Emery looked at each other.

  “It came true,” Emery said softly.

  “Maybe not. Why’d you waste a wish on something that was going to happen anyway? Now we don’t know if it was the wish or just plain old dinnertime.”

  “But I said now, and it was now.”

  “It might have been now, anyway,” Philip argued, his voice rising. “You shouldn’t have said now then.”

  “I didn’t say now then. I only said now. Something made me say now then, though. If I said now now, it would be too late.”

  “You wouldn’t say now now after my mother already said dinner’s ready! What are you talking about! Oh, never mind. Let’s go eat.”

  Chapter Eight

  When Philip and Emery entered the kitchen, they smelled the hamburgers and heard them sizzling. Philip’s mother poured a steaming pot of baked beans into a bowl, and Philip’s dad poured grape juice into four glasses. A plate of lettuce leaves and sliced tomatoes sat on the kitchen table next to a bottle of ketchup. A few moments later everyone sat around the table digging in.

  “What till I tell you what I bumped into on the way back from the library,” Philip’s mom said after dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. “Over on Van Kirk Street.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘who?’” Philip’s father asked.

  “No, I mean what.”

  Mid-bite of his hamburger Philip paused and looked across the table at Emery, who had stopped chewing, even though his mouth was full. Van Kirk Street.

  “Police cars and an hysterical old woman. You know the one who lives alone in the tan house? Mrs. Healy’s her name.”

  “The one who’s always on her porch?” answered Philip’s father.

  “Yes. Well, she was standing on the lawn by her garage with two policemen in the middle of a big crowd. Naturally, I had to see what was going on. She claimed she was robbed. Somebody took a box of jewelry from her. The front door of her house was open. Good grief. Even from where I stood I could see there was no room in the house for the police to go in. No wonder they had to talk on the lawn.”

  “What do you mean?” Philip’s father asked.

  Philip and Emery had started chewing again, but very slowly so they could listen very intently.

  “Junk. Junk everywhere. I heard people talking. They already knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “How she hoarded things. One woman, who told me her name was Mrs. Faraday, said she’d visited Mrs. Healy lots of times, and there was no room inside the house to move around. Just the narrowest path from room to room. And Mrs. Healy always moved her rocking chair indoors to a space by the front door so she could sleep in it because all the bedrooms were floor to ceiling with junk.”

  Philip swallowed and asked a question. “What’s a hoarder?”

  “I just told you,” his mother answered. “A pack rat. Somebody who collects things and keeps them and never gets rid of anything. Finally, the house is so filled up with the things the person collected, and there’s no room left inside for the person.”

  “Oh, like her garage,” said Emery. Philip shot him an angry look.

  Philip’s father frowned. “You’ve been in her garage?”

  “Oh, no, no,” Philip sputtered. “We were . . . were bouncing a ball, and it hit something and rolled behind the garage. We looked in the window. The garage has a window. It’s all filled up with stuff, too.”

  “I’m not surprised,” said Philip’s mother. “How can anyone live that way?”

  “Get back to the story,” Philip’s father suggested. “What did the police do?”

  “I heard one policeman ask how she could tell something was missing, and she said she knew exactly where she put everything. Somebody got into her garage, she said, and took a box with jewelry in it. The policemen started shooing people away, but Mrs. Faraday told me that she was the first person Mrs. Healy called when she missed the jewelry, and she advised her to phone the police. It’s a wonder she could find the phone to make the call. Seems Mrs. Healy bought things from yard sales, pawn shops, junk stores, anywhere she could find something for sale. She bought the box of jewelry somewhere, and somehow somebody made off with it. So she claims, anyway.”

  Philip and Emery exchanged another glance at the mention of pawn shops, but their stomachs hit the floor at Philip’s mom’s next sentence.

  “The old woman swears she’s seen two young boys hanging around her house.”

  “When did the jewelry go missing?” asked Philip’s dad.

  “Last night, I guess. Seems Mrs. Healy saw the box yesterday, but it was missing today.”

  “Two young boys, eh? Good thing you two were at the circus last night.” Philip’s father smiled as if he were making a joke. “No one can suspect you two.”

  “Ha, yeah. Right, Dad. Good thing,” Philip said, trying hard to smile back in a normal manner.

  The topic changed, and the boys hurried through their dinners. They knew from the looks they gave each other they had to talk.

  “Okay if we go over Emery’s a while? Still lots of daylight left,” Philip said.

  “Sure, go ahead. Your mother and I will clean up here. Maybe we’ll take a nice walk later, honey?”

  Philip’s mother smiled in response, and the boys pushed their chairs back and left the house. They walked and talked.

  Philip grumbled, “A gypsy, a pharaoh, a dead guy who visits his parents, and now a pack rat hoarder.”

  Emery threw his arms out and said, “How could the old lady know the box was missing? What’d she do? Climb up on things like a mountain goat and check? She’s gotta be like a hundred years old.”

  “She saw us, too. Does she know you?”

  “I don’t think so, but she knows you. She called your house, right?”

  Philip’s stomach spun in great circles.

  “Before, yeah. But she didn’t call my house yet for this.”

  “Maybe she saw two boys but couldn’t see who. We did try to hide, you know.”

  “Boy, I hope so.”

  “Don’t worry. She would have called your house already if she knew it was you.”

  “Suppose the police ask other houses if they saw two boys. Other people might have seen us. They might know us. We weren’t trying to hide from the other people. And our fingerprints!! Emery, did we touch anything in the garage?”

  “Touch anything? We touched everything! We both touched the doorknob before we left.”

  “Oh, Emery. We’re sunk if the police really investigate.”

  “They will investigate. They’ll have to. What are we gonna do?”

  They’d reached Emery’s ho
use, but they kept walking. They could take no chance of being overheard by any grownups.

  “Oh, man,” Emery groaned. “I wish the old lady had her box back, and I hope the stupid gypsy and the pharaoh get arrested.”

  “If they don’t, we might. Our fingerprints, remember?”

  Emery had a thought. “If the police come to arrest us, we can tell them about the gypsy and the pharaoh.”

  “Emery, you think anybody’s going to believe we were so stupid to believe we’d get three wishes if we robbed the old lady? Besides, the circus is leaving day after tomorrow.”

  “You sure the wishes are fakes? I got a circus ticket wish come true. I wished for dinner now, and your mother called us down right away.”

  “We already talked about that. Forget wishes. We have to find some way to get the box back to the old lady so the police stop looking for us and before they check for fingerprints or ask if anybody else in the neighborhood saw me and you.”

  “How?”

  “You tell me how.”

  “No, you tell me how.”

  “I can’t tell you how. I don’t know how.”

  “I can’t tell you how, either. I don’t know how, too.”

  Emery often made Philip’s stomach tighten up, and this was one of those times. They walked a while in silence before Philip came up with a meager idea.

  “We still have a day and a half. Let’s think of something when we go to sleep tonight.”

  Emery frowned. “How can we think when we’re asleep?”

  “We don’t think when we’re asleep. What’s wrong with you? Before we fall asleep, we lay in bed and think when we’re awake.”

  “Oh. I thought you meant we’d dream an answer.”

  “How could we dream an answer? Tell me, how? How could you think I meant we’d dream an answer?”

  “Stop yelling.”

  Philip rubbed his stomach to quiet it.

  “Let’s just go home,” Philip said. “Come for me tomorrow morning. We gotta think of something.”

  The boys finished their walk and separated, Philip deciding he’d better go to bed early so he’d have plenty of time to think.

  Chapter Nine