Philip and the Deadly Curse (9781619500426)

by Paulits, John

  “Did you study your lines last night, Larry?” Mr. Ware asked in a gentle voice.

  Larry opened and closed his mouth some more before he closed it and shook his head.

  Philip rolled his eyes again. Larry always acted like this. He peeked toward the front of the room as Mr. Ware tried to impress on Larry the importance of not letting the other actors down. Emery lay on the floor coloring something and laughing with the boy lying next to him. He had the exact easy job Philip had wished for. Philip couldn’t wait for the next play the class did so he could be the one coloring and laughing while Emery suffered through memorizing lines and saying them in front of an auditorium full of staring eyes.

  “Well,” Mr. Ware continued, “anyone who needs to read from the script, please take one, and we’ll go through the play.”

  Philip shook his head when Mr. Ware offered him a script.

  “Very good, Philip. I’m proud of you.”

  Mr. Ware’s kind words made Philip feel a little bit better. He touched the Moon Charm in his pocket as rehearsal began, closed his eyes a second and wished he would remember his lines without any problem. When his turn came, he spoke his lines perfectly. Mr. Ware smiled at him and he felt a lot better.

  At lunch Philip asked Emery, “Did you make any wishes with your troll today?”

  Emery shook his head as he wiped the chocolate off his mouth from a piece of chocolate cake his mother packed for him.

  “Not really.”

  “What’s not really mean?”

  “I only wished my mother wouldn’t forget to put the chocolate cake in my lunch, but I knew she wouldn’t anyway ‘cause I reminded her a zillion times. I don’t think I’d count that as a lucky troll wish, but maybe.”

  “You didn’t wish I would remember my lines when we practiced the play, did you?”

  Emery made a confused face. “Why would I waste a wish on something dumb like that? That should be your wish.”

  “Right,” Philip muttered, relieved. Maybe the charm had finally started doing its job.

  Two days later on Thursday, one week before the play, Mr. Ware brought the costumes into the classroom in a big box. Philip’s stomach began to hurt when he saw what came out of the big box—little hats that looked like they belonged on a monkey, long braids of fake black hair, and shiny colorful coats for each of the seven brothers. Philip slid his hand into his pocket and wished with all his might he would not feel as silly as he knew he would look when he dressed up for the play.

  “Philip, come up,” said Mr. Ware.

  Philip’s stomach ping-ponged inside of him. Why did Mr. Ware always call his name first? He walked to the front of the room and stood with his back to the class.

  “Turn around, Philip,” said Mr. Ware.

  Philip slid his hand into his pocket and turned around.

  “First, the wig,” Mr. Ware said with a grin.

  Philip closed his eyes and felt the fuzzy, itchy black wig go onto his head. He felt the two braids dance down his back. He felt Mr. Ware put the elastic from the tiny hat under his chin.

  “Now pick a coat, Philip. Whatever color you want.”

  Mr. Ware pointed into the big box, but Philip peeked at his classmates. It shocked him to see they were not rolling around on the floor laughing at him. He was even more shocked to find them looking at him with interest and even fascination on their faces.

  Philip looked into the box and pointed to the gold coat. Mr. Ware took out the coat and helped Philip into it.

  “Show everyone, Philip.”

  Philip turned to the class again. He heard some oohs and aahs, and even one wow. Two boys from the front row got out of their seats and came to rub their hands on Philip’s soft, shiny sleeve. When Mr. Ware refrained from telling the two boys to sit back down, the rest of the class came to the front of the room and surrounded Philip.

  Philip turned left and right, astonished by the attention. He stretched out his arms so more people could touch his coat.

  “All right, everyone,” said Mr. Ware. “Enough. Sit back down, and we’ll dress the other Chinese brothers.”

  The class sat down muttering their approval of the costumes to one another, and the other six brothers chose their coats. The class watched, but no one came to the front to admire brothers two through seven. Being first didn’t turn out to be so bad after all, Philip thought.

  When everyone was in costume, the actors rehearsed the play in the classroom. Philip remembered his lines and surprised himself by feeling good about acting in the play. No, he felt more than good. He felt . . . fancy! He felt . . . important, standing in the front of the room in his golden costume saying his lines with everyone looking at him. He patted his pocket.

  At lunch Emery slid next to Philip and said, “Those costumes look cool. I hope when I have to be in a play I get a costume as good as yours.”

  “Did you say wow when you saw me?” Philip asked. “Somebody said wow.”

  Emery shrugged. “I don’t remember. I don’t think so.”

  Philip looked at Emery and said, “Did you wish for the costumes to be so good?”

  “Why do you keep asking me if I’m making wishes about the play? I only made one wish—not to be in the play, and I got my wish.”

  Philip turned back to his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He’d gotten two wishes he knew Emery hadn’t wished for. His Moon Charm was coming through for him.

  Every day until the next Thursday Philip’s class rehearsed the play. Every day Philip felt a thrill when he put on his beautiful golden coat. Every day Philip recited his lines perfectly without even thinking about them.

  “Are you nervous?” Emery asked as he and Philip walked home from school. “The show’s tonight.”

  Philip shook his head. “No.”

  “You sure you’re not nervous? Lots of people will be watching tonight.”

  “We practiced the play so much, tonight will be easy.” Philip patted his pocket and made a quick wish to be sure. “Are you coming?”

  “My mom wants to see it, so my dad has to stay home with the babies. I’d rather see the play than stay home with the babies, so I’ll go with my mom.”

  When they reached Emery’s house, the boys parted.

  “See you tonight,” Emery called. “And good . . .”

  “Don’t!” Philip cried. “Don’t wish me good luck. Promise you won’t make any wish about me or the play. Promise.”

  “Why?”

  “Just don’t,” Philip insisted. “Promise.”

  Emery shrugged. “Okay, but then don’t blame me if you mess up.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You won’t blame me, or you won’t mess up?” Emery called after Philip, but Philip ignored him. As Philip walked, he considered the night ahead. He decided he’d make his wish right before the play began so the Moon Charm would have it fresh in its memory. He would hold his Moon Charm as tight as he could and wish for good luck for both the play and himself. Without Emery’s troll in the way, this would prove once and for all whether the Moon Charm brought him good luck or not.

  Chapter Eleven

  All during dinner Philip practiced his lines inside his head. He thought of how he should walk on the stage, where he should stand, and how he should leave the stage. After dinner he watched TV—Mr. Ware had cancelled homework because of the play—while his mother fed Becky, who they planned to drop at Mrs. Moriarty’s house so both his mother and father could see their son as the first Chinese brother.

  “Everyone ready?” Philip’s father asked.

  “Almost,” Philip’s mother answered. “Let me get my coat. Here, Philip, take the baby a minute.”

  Philip sat on the sofa and his mother lowered Becky to him. Philip bounced her a little and a funny look came over the baby’s face. All of a sudden Becky’s mouth opened and some awful looking yellowy-green stuff came flying out as she threw up into Philip’s lap.

  “Ahhhhhh. Yuck! Help!” Philip cried.

  “Oh m
y, Flipper,” said Mr. Felton taking Becky into his arms. “Whoa. Bit of a mess.”

  “Bit of a mess! Dad, she barfed on me. She barfed all over me. What are you laughing at? It’s so not funny.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Felton said, trying to hide his smile.

  “What happened? Oh, Philip. I must have fed her too quickly. Don’t move.”

  Philip’s mother disappeared and came back with a roll of paper towels.

  “Here, clean yourself off.”

  “Clean myself off! Suppose some of it gets on me. Blaagh!” Philip blurted at the thought of having Becky’s used up, undigested dinner touch him.

  “It’s not radioactive, Philip,” Philip’s father said. “It just Becky’s old food.”

  “Old food! Yeah, when dogs poop on the lawn, it’s just their old food . . .”

  “Philip!” his mother cried. “Don’t be so revolting.”

  Philip tore off a string of ten paper towels, rumpled them into a ball, and patted himself, carefully keeping his fingers well behind the paper towel.

  “Get off what you can and go change your pants. Throw the dirty ones into the bathtub,” his mother ordered.

  “Hurry up, Flipper. The star of the show can’t be late,” said his father.

  Philip did what he could with the paper towels and then rushed upstairs. He ripped off his wet, stained, smelly disgusting pants and tossed them into the bathtub. He ran into his room, grabbed another pair of jeans, put them on, and ran downstairs.

  “Ready?” his father asked, smiling.

  “I am. And stop laughing.”

  As everyone left the house, Philip checked his hands to make sure they were clean and dry and unspotted with Becky’s . . . stuff.

  ****

  Philip got into costume as he stood behind the stage curtain in the auditorium. He’d gotten to school barely on time. He watched everyone scurry around to get into position for the play. His class went on first so they had to be ready when the curtain rose. Philip walked to his spot and sat down. He could hear the audience chattering on the other side of the curtain. Behind him Mr. Ware told Kevin to speak loudly, and Philip reminded himself to do the same. Philip decided he’d waited long enough—it was time to make his wish. He patted his pocket and suddenly his body went cold, his head got hot, and he started to sweat. His pocket was empty! His Moon Charm was in the pocket of his throw-up pants, and his throw-up pants were lying in the bathtub at home, and the play was about to begin!

  Philip tried quickly to recall his opening line, but it wouldn’t come. All he could think about was his Moon Charm in the pocket of his pants covered with Becky’s disgusting dinner.

  “We start in two minutes,” came Mr. Ware’s voice.

  Philip’s heart pounded. His opening line. What was his first line? If he could remember the first line, maybe the other lines would come. Philip panicked when he saw the lights go out on the other side of the curtain. He heard the Chinese music Mr. Ware had on a CD and suddenly he felt like he had to throw up. The curtain rose and the eyes of the audience were on him.

  Even though the auditorium lights were out Philip could still see the people in the light cast from the stage. So many people! Some people even stood in the back and along the sidewalls because the seats were filled. Philip’s stomach began to ache. Oh, if he only had his Moon Charm. He looked inside his memory again for his first line but couldn’t find it. His brain felt empty. Could he signal Emery to make a quick wish on his troll? He searched the audience.

  Suddenly, the Chinese music stopped and the Emperor stood up and gave his first speech. The first brother’s speech came next. Philip closed his eyes and looked for his opening line. The Emperor finished his speech. Philip rose, his mind a complete blank. He stared helplessly out into the audience. And then, like a miracle, the words came back to him.

  “I am Chinese brother number one. I can cry an ocean of tears. This is my brother, Chinese brother number two.”

  Philip sat down and Ryan stood up. Philip felt his heart slow down. He saw the people in the audience smile. Philip listened carefully so he wouldn’t miss his next turn to speak. The play went along exactly as they rehearsed it, except for mumble-mouth Kevin who nobody could hear.

  Philip heard his cue and stood up again, walked in a circle, stood in front of the Emperor, and said, “Please let me go home to visit my mother before you kill me.”

  The Emperor made his reply, and Philip returned to his spot. Done! He’d said everything he had to. He stood in the right places at the right times. He was finished!

  Relieved beyond measure and glad to be out of harm’s way, Philip listened to the rest of the play. He stood when the rest of the cast stood and enjoyed the audience’s applause. He and the rest of the actors bowed and gave a big wave good-bye just as Mr. Ware had showed them. Mr. Ware made a little speech about how hard the children had worked and the audience applauded again. The actors filed off the stage and took the front row seats left empty for them and settled back to watch the rest of the show.

  When the performances ended, the children who acted in Philip’s play went back to the classroom to get out of their costumes, and their parents met them there. Philip ran to his father. “Dad, I did it without the Moon Charm. I had it in my pants, but then Becky barfed on them, and I forgot to get the Moon Charm out of my pocket. And I almost forgot my lines, but right at the last minute I remembered them.”

  “Slow down, Flipper. You see, you remembered your lines because you worked hard to learn them. Remember what I said? Working hard makes its own good luck—a lesson I learned from the Moon Charm long ago. Now you’ve learned it, too. Another family tradition.”

  Mr. Ware interrupted. “Children, I have a surprise for you. Mr. Tolliver, Kevin’s dad, has invited all the actors from the play out for some ice cream.”

  The children cheered and Philip smiled. Not even Emery’s troll would get him this ice cream.

  Mr. Ware announced the address of the ice cream parlor—the one in the mall—and everyone promised to meet there in twenty minutes.

  Chapter Twelve

  Happy at how the evening turned out, Philip lay in bed in his pajamas studying the Moon Charm. He turned it over and over and watched the changing colors. His father knocked on the door and walked in.

  “I wanted to come and say goodnight, Flipper,” his father said. “Say goodnight and congratulate you on your spectacular stage performance.”

  Philip took the compliment in stride and looked thoughtfully at his father. He held up the Moon Charm and asked, “Dad, do you think it’s good luck or not?”

  “I think we both know the answer, Flipper. Not to beat a dead horse but—hard work makes its own luck. You studied your part in the play very hard, and that’s why you were able to do it so well. You did do it without the Moon Charm, right?”

  “Maybe you don’t need the Moon Charm in your pocket all the time. Maybe it knows what you want and gives it to you no matter where it is.”

  “Philip, my boy, it was about at this point many years ago that I put the Moon Charm into the box where you found it, and there it rested all these long years.” His eyes and Philip’s eyes met, the important question dangling in the air. Philip’s father shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Philip didn’t want to guess. He wanted to know. “It’s hard to tell what brings good luck and what doesn’t.”

  “Truer words were never spoken, lad,” Mr. Felton said with a smile.

  “Close your eyes, Dad.”

  Philip’s father obeyed the command, and Philip went to his closet and got out his secret shoebox, the shoebox both his parents promised never to open, even if they found it. Philip took two Jolly Ranchers from his shoebox and put them under his pillow.

  “Okay. Open your eyes.”

  Philip’s father looked into the empty shoebox. “I thought you kept this thing filled with candy.”

  Philip gave a guilty smile and tried hard not to glance at his pillow. He dr
opped the Moon Charm into the shoebox where it landed with a small plunk.

  “Well done. I congratulate you,” his father complimented. “You’ve learned—we’ve both learned—you cannot depend on anything outside of yourself for good luck. You have to make your own.” Philip’s father extended his hand.

  Philip looked at it.

  “I want to shake your hand. You’ve taken a big step.”

  Philip shook his father’s hand, and they both laughed.

  “Get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.” His father left the room and went back downstairs.

  Philip returned his candy to his shoebox and his shoebox to its hiding place. He hoped his father was wrong. How great would it be if he really had something to always bring him good luck? How easy things would be. He supposed he would have to do what his father said, though, and work hard to bring good luck to himself. Philip turned his lights out and crawled under the covers. With the comforting thought that the Moon Charm would be in his shoebox if he needed it for something special, Philip closed his eyes and thought back over his long and happy day.

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  John Paulits is a former teacher in New York City. He has published seven other children’s novels, several about Philip and Emery; a collection of horror short stories, OLIVER MUNCING, EXORCIST; as well as three adult science fiction novels, HOBSON’S PLANET, BECKONING ETERNITY and LANYON FOR HIRE. His first Gyspy Shadow book, PHILIP AND THE SUPERSTITION KID, was voted best children’s novel of 2010 in the Preditors and Editors readers poll. PHILIP AND THE DEADLY CURSE is his fifth chapter book with Gypsy Shadow and follows PHILIP AND THE HAUNTED HOUSE, PHILIP AND THE ANGEL and PHILIP AND THE MONSTERS.