The Magic Misfits

by Neil Patrick Harris

  They were almost back to the magic shop when Theo turned pale. He stopped walking. “My bow is gone.”

  He patted his pant leg again and again. Then he checked his jacket, as though it might have ended up in there. It was nowhere to be found.

  “My lucky lockpicks!” Leila said, her face dropping. “I always have them in my front pocket. But they’ve vanished!”

  Ridley checked a hidden compartment in the arm of her wheelchair. “Leila, please tell me this is a joke. I need my notebook. My whole life is in there.”

  “I’m sorry.” Leila’s voice cracked. “I’d never make a joke like this.”

  Carter’s heart raced. He had only one thing of true value. He opened his satchel and dug deep. The small wooden box was gone. In its place was a torn piece of paper.

  When Carter looked up, Theo, Leila, and Ridley also had torn pieces of paper in their hands. They put the four pieces together to form a note. It read:

  “What do they mean by ‘joined Bosso’?” Ridley asked, her eyes stabbing at Carter.

  Carter felt like someone had just pushed him off a cliff. “Last night… he asked me to join his gang,” he admitted quickly and quietly.

  “Did you?” Theo asked.

  “Of course not!”

  “How can we trust a word he says?” Ridley growled.

  “Now, hold on,” Leila said. “If Carter was with them, he wouldn’t have been robbed too.”

  “For all we know, this is part of his shtick,” Ridley said. “He gets all friendly, robs us blind, and then pretends he got robbed too.”

  “I don’t steal!” Carter shouted.

  “Yeah, right!” Ridley yelled back. “And I just ride around in this chair for the fun of it!”

  Leila and Theo stepped in between Carter and Ridley. “That’s enough,” the violinist said calmly.

  “Remember what the psychic lady said? We all have to work together,” Leila added.

  “That was a bunch of hooey,” Ridley spat. “And it was Carter’s idea to see the old lady. Maybe that’s part of the whole deal.”

  “What whole deal?” Carter defended himself. “I’m… I’m not lying.” Not at the moment, he thought, cringing at what he’d told them about staying at the resort on the hill. He found that he could barely look at Leila.

  “That’s probably a lie too,” Ridley went on. “I’m going back for my journal.”

  “That’s a terrible idea,” Carter said. “Bosso has a whole army of goons. You don’t stand a chance by yourself.”

  “Then we’ll all go,” Leila said.

  “Four against an entire carnival?” Theo said. “I think perhaps we need to contact the police and explain our situation.”

  “NO!” Carter yelped. “Please, no cops.”

  “See?” Ridley said. “He is a thief!”

  “I am not! I’m… I’m a runaway.”

  The night became suddenly quiet. Leila, Theo, and Ridley stared at Carter. Despite the darkness, he felt like a giant spotlight was on him.

  “You don’t have a home?” Leila asked softly.

  “No,” Carter admitted. “I have an uncle, but he isn’t a good person. He wanted me to steal from people, but I wouldn’t. So I ran away. I hopped a train and ended up here. I’m not a thief. But if you call the cops, I’ll go away to foster care or worse.” He checked Leila’s face for reassurance. But her eyes were blank. She looked like she was lost in memory. “They’ll take me away from Mineral Wells, and I’ll never see any of you again. And I would hate that, more than anything. I would never steal from any of you. I would never hurt you. You’re… you’re the first friends I’ve ever had. You have to believe me.”

  There was a long period of silence. Carter felt his heart sink further and further. His three new friends were going to walk away, and he would be alone again.

  Then something unexpected happened.

  “I believe you,” said Leila. She hugged Carter.

  “So do I,” said Theo. He patted Carter on the back.

  “Well, I don’t.…” Ridley said, her arms crossed. “But I’m willing to think about it.”

  “No one should be in foster care, or live in an orphanage. Everyone desrves a home,” Leila said sadly. She took a deep breath, then added, “But you hopped a train? So neato!”

  “I cannot imagine what you’ve been through,” Theo said. “My condolences. I’m sorry you didn’t tell us sooner. But I understand why you hesitated.”

  “I’m not sorry,” Ridley said, arms still crossed. “But it sounds like your life sucks. I can relate.” She knocked her fist on the arm of her wheelchair. “Truce?”

  “Truce.” Carter beamed. He’d never felt such relief. He took a deep breath, his whole body shuddering—it felt like the first oxygen he’d ever inhaled. “But what do we do now? We have to get our stuff back.”

  “We do,” Theo said. “But it’s late, we’re tired, and we’re four kids against an entire carnival of crooks. Cooler heads will prevail in the morning. I find one always works best after a good night’s sleep, a shower, and a well-rounded breakfast.”

  “That’s not how I would have put it, but fine,” Ridley said. “First thing in the morning.”

  “Agreed,” Leila chirped. “Since tomorrow’s Saturday, let’s meet at ten at the magic shop?”

  Everyone nodded.

  Ridley and Leila said good night, then went on their way. Carter was about to head back to the park when Theo asked, “Do you have a place to sleep?”

  “I can take care of myself,” Carter said. He sounded tougher than he felt.

  “Unacceptable.” Theo shook his head. “You are staying with me.”

  TWELVE

  Carter woke to the sound of music. A violin, he guessed, once he remembered where he was. He was stretched out in a bed with a real mattress, cotton sheets, a knitted blanket, and two pillows. His feet didn’t even stick out at the end of the covers, like they did with the newspapers that he and Uncle Sly had sometimes used for bedding.

  Sunlight glowed through the gauzy curtain. A gentle breeze fluttered in.

  This must be what heaven is like, Carter thought. A brief image flickered in his mind: a tiny bedroom in that red cottage with the white trim, morning sunlight streaming in, the sound of his parents’ voices rising from the kitchen below. There was more… so much more… he wished he could remember.

  It was a very clean guest room. There was a full-size bed, a small shelf with fresh flowers in a vase, and an easel in the corner. The previous evening, Theo had mentioned that his mother was a painter. The walls were hung with pages clipped from magazines, sketches, postcards, and photos of several stained-glass windows.

  Carter stood and stretched. He hadn’t worn pajamas in a long time—not since before he’d ended up with Uncle Sly. These were very comfy. A strange noise echoed up from the backyard. Peering out the window, Carter noticed what looked like a large wooden shed, its walls made of wire mesh. White feathers were scattered in the grass like a halo surrounding it.

  “Breakfast!” called a woman’s singsong voice. This had to be Theo’s mother.

  Carter crept to the door and pressed his ear against it.

  Downstairs, the violin breathed out its final hopeful note. There was light clapping, followed by a resonant voice saying, “That was beautiful, son.”

  “Thank you, Father. I’ll go see if my guest is ready to eat.” Footfalls ran up the stairs, followed by a soft knock on the door. “May I come in?”

  “Of course—it’s your house,” Carter said. When Theo walked in, Carter asked, “Do you ever not wear a tuxedo?”

  “Not unless I’m wearing pajamas,” Theo answered. “Anyway, just a reminder of last night when we got in: We told my parents you’re a prospective student at Mineral Wells Academy and that the dean asked us to care for you during your visit.”

  “I remember,” Carter reassured him. They’d decided to keep what happened with the Pock-Pickets a secret. Theo’s parents would only have
wanted to alert the authorities. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been in a lot tighter jams than this.”

  “I have to go out and feed the doves, but feel free to head downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

  “So those are doves in the pen out back?”

  “They make for very interesting pets.” Theo gave his signature nod. “See you soon!”

  There was a spare set of slippers for him to wear. The bathroom soaps were shaped like seashells. After Carter took a nice, long, warm shower (the best of his life), he headed downstairs. In the hall, the sky-blue walls were decorated with Italian opera posters in white frames. There were other frames too: pictures of a very young Theo surrounded by four other kids who looked almost exactly like him. Siblings! Funny, Carter thought. Theo hadn’t mentioned any of them. Academic awards and diplomas were mixed in with the artwork, each one containing a different name. They must have belonged to Theo’s older brothers and sisters.

  When Carter padded down the stairs, he saw a trumpet hanging over the fireplace and a lamp-crowned tower of books stacked neatly beside the leather sofa. Best of all, everything smelled clean. After years on the streets and in halfway houses, Carter wasn’t used to things that smelled nice.

  “Have a seat, Carter,” Theo’s mother offered gently. She placed a soft-boiled egg before him, in a little ceramic cup adorned with flowers that she had decorated herself. It was accompanied by a tiny silver spoon. “Did you sleep okay?” She was tall and her features were delicate. Carter could see where Theo had gotten his regal profile. She was dressed in a crisp white blouse and soft denim pants that were spattered with colorful paint. She wore her hair pulled back, tucked under a folded green paisley bandanna.

  “It was the best sleep I think I’ve ever had,” Carter said truthfully.

  “I am so pleased to hear that. With all my oldest children out of the house, it’s nice to know that their rooms can be of use.”

  When he went to dip into the egg with his spoon, Carter realized that it had turned into a golf ball. Theo grinned mischievously.

  “Theo,” chided his mother, “no magic at the table.”

  “You sound like Mr. Vernon,” Theo noted before returning Carter’s egg.

  “My son tells me you will be staying in Mineral Wells for some time,” Theo’s father said. He had kind eyes and his black hair was flecked with gray.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Well… I hope you like it here.”

  “I already do!”

  “Mineral Wells Academy is top-notch. Excellent music program. What instrument do you play?” Theo’s father asked.

  “Not everybody plays an instrument,” Theo said. He turned to Carter. “My dad conducts the local symphony. He wishes the world was more musical than it is.”

  “Ah, son, that’s where you’re wrong,” Theo’s father said. “The world is filled with more music than most people notice.” He patted Carter’s hand. “Pick up an instrument. You won’t regret it.”

  On their way to Vernon’s Magic Shop, Carter said, “You know, I should be worried. But what you said last night is totally true. After a good night’s sleep, a warm shower, and a square meal, I feel on top of the world—like I could tackle anything, even Bosso.”

  “Well, I’m glad you feel good,” Theo said, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  The boys kept their eyes peeled in case any of Bosso’s goons were prowling the streets. But as they turned onto Main Street, they found themselves stuck in a swarm of shoppers and sightseers. “Who are all these people?” Carter asked.

  “Tourists,” Theo explained. “Warm weekends always attract the largest crowds. They stay at the resort and come down during the day to go shopping.”

  “Great,” Carter said. “They’re a bunch of sitting ducks. Bosso and his crooked carnies are going to go on a stealing spree tonight.”

  “You really don’t like Bosso, do you?” Theo asked.

  “He reminds me of my uncle, only times a thousand. My uncle stole to eat. But Bosso just steals because he’s greedy. We have to stop him and his goons.” At that moment, something tickled the back of Carter’s brain, like he was trying to remember something about Bosso’s clowns.

  Theo interrupted, distracting Carter. “Perhaps we should just focus on getting our own stuff back first. Once we have that, we’ll have proof to notify the authorities without getting you into trouble. Then we can help other victims safely.”

  As the pair walked through Mineral Wells, Carter observed more of the quaint town. Of all the places he had been, Mineral Wells was uniquely beautiful. The firehouse’s red engines gleamed in the open garage. The barbershop had a red-and-white-striped pole and friendly barbers who waved at passersby. The men and women working the counter at the ice-cream parlor wore flimsy paper hats and made giant sundaes. And everyone in town had a smile on their face. It was perfection.

  When the boys walked into Mr. Vernon’s shop, the parrot cried, “Meow. Meow. I’m a cat.”

  “That bird is hilarious,” Carter said.

  “Is she?” Mr. Vernon asked with a kind smile. He appeared suddenly from behind the counter. Today he wore another sharp black suit. “Well, she’s certainly smart. Most yellow-naped Amazon parrots are highly intelligent animals. They have the uncanny ability to mimic human speech and cadence. Perfect as door greeters. They can also deliver secret messages if properly trained.”

  “Is Leila awake, sir?” Theo asked politely.

  “I’m more than merely awake,” Leila said from above.

  When Carter and Theo looked up, they found Leila wrapped in chains and padlocks and hanging upside down from the nearly twenty-foot ceiling. “Someone start the stopwatch,” she said.

  Mr. Vernon held up his pocket watch. With a click, he said, “You may start.”

  Leila began shaking and shivering and moving.

  “Is that safe?” Carter asked.

  “An excellent question,” Mr. Vernon said. “Usually I would say no, but Leila is quite skilled. Though I suppose as her father, I should make her wear a helmet.” He pulled a small notebook from his jacket and jotted down the word helmet before tucking it away.

  The tiny bell on the door jingled as Ridley wheeled in.

  “Hello, hello. How are you today?” Presto the Parrot asked.

  “Hey, Presto.” Ridley reached up and scratched the parrot’s yellow neck. “Morning, Mr. V.”

  “Good morning to you as well, Ms. Larsen. Thirty seconds, Leila.”

  “I’m trying to get my time under a minute,” Leila said, struggling. One chain and the lock fell free. “But it’s hard without my lucky lockpicks.”

  “You lost your lucky lockpicks?” Vernon asked.

  “She didn’t lose them,” Theo answered. “They were stolen.”

  “By Bosso’s goons, last night at the carnival,” Ridley added.

  “I didn’t want to worry you, Dad,” Leila went on.

  “Are you sure it was them?” Vernon asked.

  “Positive,” Theo said. He put the Pock-Pickets’ note on the counter for Vernon to read. “They robbed each of us of a prized item and left us a note.”

  “They called you misfits? Well, that’s rude,” Mr. Vernon said. “And stealing is a filthy habit—like chewing gum.”

  “I think stealing is worse than chewing gum, Dad,” Leila said. Another chain and padlock slunk off and hit the floor. She still had one more chain and padlock.

  “Sixty seconds, sweetie,” Vernon said to Leila.

  “Aww, pickles,” she moaned.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that the carnival workers stole your things. But things can be replaced.”

  “They weren’t carnies,” said Ridley. “They were a barbershop quartet.”

  “Even worse,” Mr. Vernon cried out.

  “Actually, they took something from me that can’t be replaced,” Carter said. “It’s one of a kind, really. And it means a lot to me.”

  “My bow didn’t hold true senti
mental value, but I would like it back,” Theo said. “It’s hard to make things levitate without it.”

  “And my journal has months of great ideas in it.” Ridley flexed her fists. “I’d rather bust some skulls than start over.”

  “Well, I don’t think it should come to fisticuffs,” Mr. Vernon said. “Perhaps there’s a more subtle solution?”

  “We know they’re staying at the Grand Oak Resort,” Leila said, swinging around like a fish caught on a line. “If we find what room they’re in, perhaps we could sneak in and get our stuff back, and no one would be any wiser?”

  “That’s not a half-bad idea,” Mr. Vernon said. “If a small group were to sneak in, it might be better to have two teams. One keeping an eye on the villains, and another to make the grab. Hypothetically speaking, of course. I don’t condone such behavior at all.” Vernon gave Carter a wink.

  The last padlock unlocked and the final chain fell to the floor. Leila reached up, uncuffed her ankles, and then flipped to the floor like a graceful acrobat. “What was my final time?”

  “One minute, forty-two seconds,” Mr. Vernon said. “Quite good for losing your lucky lockpicks.”

  “But not great,” Leila said. “I need them back.”

  “You know, I recall the Other Mr. Vernon mentioning that he had to feed those ‘insufferable clowns’ again at lunchtime. That might be an opportune moment to search their rooms,” Mr. Vernon said. “I suppose, if you accidentally wandered into the wrong room, it would be an accident and not illegal. Something to keep in mind, in case…”

  “Mr. Vernon, are you suggesting that we—” Theo started.

  Mr. Vernon quickly cut him off. “Absolutely not! I would never! Only a group of absolute misfits would think up such an outrageous scheme.” He crossed the room and knocked a box off the shelf. Several wigs, hats, and glasses fell out. “Oops. I’m such a klutz. Leila, would you and your friends mind picking these up? Feel free to borrow any of them if you like. I often find changing one’s look to be an advantage in awkward situations.”