THE MUSEUM’S GRAND OPENING WILL SHOWCASE…
HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN’S REGAL JEWEL COLLECTION.
CAST YOUR EYES UPON A SELECTION OF THE MOST EXQUISITE JEWELS AND HIGHLY PRIZED TRINKETS FROM HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN’S OWN PERSONAL TREASURE TROVE.
“Ooh,” said Monty.
The Peppers and Potty stepped inside. There was a slow smoosh!, and a puff of dry ice enveloped them all as if they were on a film set.
“I want to live here,” cooed Monty. “It’s amazing.”
Someone passed by, pushing a small trolley filled with USB sticks and mouse mats. Each had a picture of a transparent skull on it.
“What are they for?” asked Monty.
“For sale, maybe,” said Esmé. “Does the museum have a shop?”
“Of course it does, old sport,” came a voice from the midst of the dry ice. A hand appeared through the fug of smoke, then an arm, then a man.
“Henry J. Henry,” the man introduced himself to Uncle Potty. He was tall and wore a light grey suit. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I guess you are the Potty Magician.”
Henry smiled at them all – he seemed almost like an angel, thought Esmé, appearing from a celestial cloud.
Henry looked at Esmé and Monty. “And you must be...?”
“My niece and nephew,” said Potty, “Esmé and Monty Pepper.”
Monty sniffed the air. “What’s that nice smell?”
“Must be my aftershave, Toujours, Matey.”
Henry gazed down at the children. “I do hope you like our little museum here. We have made use of technology to create a sensational experience. And we want the experience to be experiential, if you see what I mean.” Henry smiled again and his teeth sent out a gleam that Esmé thought could have blinded a small animal such as a shrew or a weasel. The clothes Henry wore were expensive and his hair was smoothed back and sleek. He was one of those people who looked as if he was successful at everything – that all he touched turned to gold. Esmé imagined that Henry J. Henry lived in a mansion that was filled every day with fresh-cut flowers, that he drank champagne from small golden flutes and bathed in goat’s milk when he fancied it.
The dry ice dispersed.
“Welcome to our world, Potty Magician and young relatives,” said Henry. “The Mega-Million Super Museum is at your disposal.”
Then Potty spoke. “We’ve met before, Mr Henry. Weren’t you once a member of the International Magic Guys Club?”
“My, yes, I was,” said Henry, looking back intently at Potty. “But I don’t seem to recall...”
“Not to worry, I was just a whipper-snapper,” Potty said. “Wasn’t Harry Starfeathers your stage name?”
Henry J. Henry looked a little put out that Potty had such a good memory.
“Um, yes. But I got out of the magic business a while ago. There was too much pressure,” he muttered.
“Well, that’s a shame,” said Potty, deciding not to mention Henry’s nickname – Butterfingers.
“I never really had the talent,” continued Henry, “to charm with magic, to entertain. It’s a gift, I tell you, old sport. A gift.”
“There’s always something to improve on, or something new to try,” explained Potty humbly. “You can’t be left behind. Each trick must be better than the last.”
Henry sighed deeply. “It’s so nice to catch up. Anyway, we must talk turkey.”
Potty nodded. “The trick?”
“Yes, the trick,” replied Henry. “The Queen has personally invited you to perform at the Mega-Million Super Museum opening. Apparently she saw you on television and loved your act. She contacted me especially to put you on the bill for next week’s grand event.”
Esmé could see that Henry was stressing the fact that it was the Queen’s idea to invite Potty to perform.
“I am certainly a lucky magician,” said Potty.
“So, what sort of thing have you got in mind for the show?” Henry asked.
“Well, as you know a little bit about magic, I think you’ll understand when I say that I want to create an epic performance,” replied Potty. “Something truly memorable. So... I’d like to make the museum disappear, if that’s all right with you.”
“I see,” said Henry thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, that should be fine.”
Esmé and Monty glanced at each other. They had expected Mr Henry to react with a little more enthusiasm – or at least surprise. Uncle Potty was suggesting that he make the building vanish – not make a rabbit leap out from a top hat.
“The trick is based on those performed by Nigel Copperfield,” explained Potty, thinking that Henry’s slow reaction was just one of caution. “Nigel made the Statue of Liberty vanish once, if you recall. I’d like to use his methods.”
Henry was silent for a little longer, but soon he started beaming. “Mr Potty, I think it’s a superb idea. It certainly would attract a lot of attention… but you will be able to bring the museum back, won’t you, old sport?”
“Of course,” said a delighted Potty.
“Let me think,” said Henry. “You’ll have to perform the trick outside – create a bit of atmosphere, wave a wand around, then – whoosh! – the museum vanishes, at least to the naked eye.”
Potty nodded.
Henry paused again. Esmé could see that he was thinking through each detail in his mind.
“What I suggest,” said Henry at last, “is that making the museum disappear is all well and good, but we could add a little something extra.”
Potty looked intrigued.
“How about,” continued Henry, “a taster version of the trick, to whet the audience’s appetite for the main event? I suggest you make a small object disappear first – pretending that this is the sole performance – until you suddenly and unexpectedly make the museum disappear. Catching the audience off guard like that will give the whole trick the wow factor.”
Potty raised his one furry eyebrow. “Wow factor. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “It’s a wonderful idea.”
“We would just have to choose the first object,” said Henry, as someone with another trolley holding skull-shaped pencil sharpeners passed by.
Here, Esmé piped up. “We could use something from the museum – something ancient and special and magical... if that’s all right, Mr Henry.”
Monty agreed. “Good plan – it would give it a theme.”
“Yes,” answered Henry. “Ancient, special and magical; that would be excellent.”
“A pencil sharpener?” Monty suggested.
“Would that be magical?” asked Esmé. “Or even ancient?”
“I was thinking we could find a really old one.”
“I’ve an idea,” said Esmé, remembering the laser display outside the museum. “How about the crown?”
“Or maybe a mummified head?”
“Didn’t I just see a crystal skull on a mouse mat?” asked Potty.
“You can’t make a mouse mat disappear; that wouldn’t be very exciting,” said Monty.
“No no!” said Potty. “A piece of crystal would be marvellous – it would cast a magical light – but it must not be too large and awkward to disappear.”
“Incredible,” said Henry, his eyes wide. “You have all come up with the answer yourselves.”
Esmé wondered what Henry J. Henry meant by this. Of course they had come up with the answer – they were planning Potty’s show.
“I have something that is exactly what you need – an item that is part of the Royal Collection. A crystal skull. It is ancient, magical and special. Not only that, it is worth millions.”
“Well, we can try something else if it’s too precious,” said Potty. “I wouldn’t want to—”
“No no no, I insist you use it,” said Henry, a broad smile on his lips.
“We would take good care of it,” promised Monty.
“It sounds perfect,” said Potty, holding out his hand. “Let’s shake on it, Mr Henry. This is going to blow the Queen’s
socks off.”
Henry seemed delighted. “I’ve always thought that with other rivals – I mean, other magicians – the best thing is to pool ideas.”
Esmé noticed Henry J. Henry suddenly blush and trail off. Did he just say rivals? Surely he didn’t see Potty as competition any more? Mr Henry was a successful museum curator, not an entertainer.
“Can we see this crystal skull?” asked Monty.
“Yes, I will have to check it for size and weight,” said Potty.
“We can go and look at it now, if you like,” said Henry, regaining his composure. “I can show you the Wealth and Wisdom Zone, which houses the Royal Collection.”
“Marvellous,” said Potty, guiding the children with his long arms as Henry led the way. The throbbing mass of cleaners, who were busy sweeping and polishing the floor, simultaneously parted as Henry walked through the main hall.
“He seems most enthusiastic. A fine fellow,” Uncle Potty murmured to the twins.
Monty nodded.
“Glance upwards, young sports!” Henry called to the Peppers, walking behind him. In so doing, Esmé and Monty both saw a number people in white lab coats dangling from the ceiling. They were also armed with broomsticks and were trying to polish the ceiling. No expense, it seemed, had been spared for this royal opening.
An excerpt from
TRICK: Magic Bottle
Kindly and in your best loud voice, ask for a volunteer from the audience. Show him or her an empty bottle, then drop drop drop your magic wand inside, noting how easily it falls in.
Your volunteer will gasp “Crikey!” as you turn the bottle upside down and the wand magically remains suspended inside.
The clue is in a dark-coloured bottle and a pencil eraser that you have in your pocket. After you have shown your volunteer the empty bottle, slip the eraser inside it without anyone seeing – you must practise your sleight of hand skills here. Drop the wand into the bottle and push it into the eraser.
Now turn it upside down VERY SLOWLY and mumble all sorts of enchantments while you’re doing this. Pull on the wand slightly when the bottle is turning over so the piece of eraser gets wedged into the opening. You’ll need to practise this a few times, my magical friends.
HEY PRESTO! The wand doesn’t fall out. It’s magic and full-time entertainment, wand-style.
Once, there were libraries on every street corner with young readers (and older too) hopping about, arms filled with books, thrilled to be taking them home to read and enjoy. Now you’d be hard-pressed to find a library in many towns, let alone a nice independent bookseller. Someone perched upon a high ledge on the mountainside of Government decided that no one needed books, but I, Dr Pompkins, Magical Conjuror and Spiritual Adviser In All Totality, must stand up for libraries. If you happen to be near one of the few that they haven’t managed to close down yet, then please use it and borrow some magic books. Glancing at other people’s ideas is good for your brain and will expand your repertoire. Not everyone can afford to buy the latest magic guide, and a library gives you access within reasonable opening hours.
In all totality,
enry led the Pepper twins and Potty into a brightly lit room that had low flute music playing in the background. On the right-hand wall was a row of buttons that made GENUINE SOUNDS FROM THE ELIZABETHAN ERA. Monty was delighted at the very thought of things to press, and lingered behind.
Esmé listened as one marked BASE METAL TURNING TO GOLD produced a sound quite similar to that of a cement mixer. Another noise – DEFEATING THE SPANISH ARMADA – was a bit like carrots being grated. Monty’s favourite was BIG RUFFLED COLLARS, which he pressed repeatedly. It sounded like a cat scratching a doorframe.
“It’s interactive,” Monty said to his sister.
“I know,” said Esmé. “It still doesn’t explain why a ruffled collar sounds like a cat’s claws, though.”
“I think it’s brilliant in here. When it opens, I’m going to visit every day.”
“But you go to school from Monday to Friday.”
“After school. And at weekends.”
“I thought you were going to practise in the magic shed at weekends.”
“Er, let’s go and join the others,” said Monty quickly. “We need to keep up with Henry J. Henry.”
“Come along,” the museum boss called to the children. “We haven’t got all day.”
Esmé had just noticed one of the items she had seen in the library book – a round object of shiny black stone – displayed in a glass cabinet. Esmé wondered why they couldn’t stay and look at the exhibits for a little while longer.
“Is this the obsidian mirror?” she asked Henry, pointing to the object.
Henry turned reluctantly and walked back towards her.
“Yes, but we haven’t much—”
“I’ve read all about it,” Esmé explained with great enthusiasm. “It’s said to have real magical qualities – it can predict the future. Dr John Dee had it brought back from South America – he was Queen Elizabeth the First’s mystical adviser, wasn’t he.”
Henry looked at Esmé. “Well, that’s great that you know so much about it, young sport.”
“I found Dr Dee very interesting,” said Esmé, “because he tried to make a science out of magic and spiritualism. He communicated with spirits and it’s said that his guardian angel predicted the Gunpowder Plot of sixteen o five. The mirror itself became famous.”
“Well, the crystal skull has a lot of history behind it too,” snapped Henry. “That’s the object your uncle Potty is going to use, isn’t it? Not a mirror.”
“But it’s interesting to look at the other exhibits on our way to the skull,” said Esmé, disappointed that they were being moved on.
Henry, realising he had snapped, smiled at Esmé. “You will love the skull, you really will. It has so much history.”
But now Esmé wasn’t sure how sincere Henry was being. Wasn’t he interested in the other items in the Mega-Million Super Museum? This was a bit surprising, considering he was in charge of the whole place.
“Isn’t there some sort of code attached to the mirror?” she asked Henry.
“Code?”
“I read that Sir Hans Toast, who founded the original museum over a hundred years ago, devised symbols that were used as a map to access some parts of the museum – secret passageways, I think it said.”
Hearing this, Monty looked closely at the exhibit. “There’s some funny writing on the information panel – is that it?”
Henry looked at the Pepper twins with a steely expression. “You certainly are two very bright young things, aren’t you. However, the idea of a code is rubbish. Those symbols are for the… um… audio tour.”
“But…” said Esmé, then trailed off.
“Now, onward, everybody,” said Henry, putting a manicured hand behind Esme’s back and simply pushing her forward. “Let’s get to this exciting crystal skull. We haven’t got all day.”
Esmé, Potty and Monty followed the museum boss. “Marvellous, isn’t it,” enthused Potty. “The museum – all these objects from the past making history come alive. It inspires me, Esmé, it truly does.”
“I wish we hadn’t been moved along so quickly. I would have liked to stay and make a sketch of the mirror.”
“If Henry wants us to hurry, there must be a reason,” said Potty, always respectful of people who were the boss of places, like museums.
They passed a room full of Egyptian mummies.
“These seem interesting,” remarked Monty, but Henry did not hear him and continued walking. Esmé, however, had spotted another object she’d read about and she was not going to pass this one by without having a good look.
“It’s the Rosetta Bone. It’s famous throughout the world.”
Potty called out to Henry to stop for a moment, and he did, albeit with a rather fake grin.
“It’s an incredible piece of Egyptian history,” said Esmé excitedly. “It has all these hieroglyphs – symbols that
represent letters of the alphabet – carved into it.”
Monty walked up and peered at the bone, which was standing alone, without a display cabinet to protect it. “Is it a dinosaur bone?”
Potty stroked his chin. “Of course it’s not.” Then he turned to Esmé. “Is it?”
Esmé had read all about it during her fact-finding mission in the library.
“It’s the hind leg of an ancient cow. Decoding the bone has been vital to the understanding of Egyptian life and world history too.”
Henry yawned. Was he making fun of Esmé? Had she been too swotty? Esmé was silently annoyed – she wanted to say something, but felt she couldn’t.
Potty instinctively went to tap the bone, then stopped himself, knowing that you weren’t meant to touch objects in museums, that they were fragile and sensitive and could crumble under a whisper.
“Oh, go on,” said Henry, seeing Potty pause. “Handle it all you want. Pick it up, move it around. It’s just an old bone.”
And Henry J. Henry walked off without waiting for the others.
Monty glanced at Esmé. “Well, he is the boss.”
Esmé looked down at her shoes, a little dejected. “I just thought it was really interesting.”
An excerpt from
TRICK: Into Thin Air
For this trick you will need an ordinary deck of cards, a handkerchief with a hem, a toothpick and scissors.
Take the toothpick and cut it so that it’s the same size as the width of a playing card. Poke it into the hem of the handkerchief, making sure it won’t fall out. Now you can perform.
Take a deck of cards and spread them out on a table, then bring out the handkerchief and say, “I will make an ordinary playing card disappear, right before your very eyes, oh yes – because I am a magician in all totality.” Or something similar.
The Magical Peppers and the Great Vanishing Act Page 2