Zach King- The Magical Mix-Up

by Zach King

  know what I’m doing now.”

  “If you say so.” Aaron’s gaze drifted toward the snack

  table. A speculative expression came over his face.

  “Hmm—”

  “Forget it.” Zach could guess what was going through

  his friend’s brain. “Don’t even think about that ranch

  dressing.”

  “What about Tabasco sauce?”

  “No! We turned back time, and we’re just going with

  the glasses. We’re good.”

  “Okay, okay,” Aaron muttered. “For now.”

  Zach maneuvered over to a quiet corner of the gym,

  away from the roaming students and chaperones, where

  he slipped the glasses on and turned invisible. He glanced

  down to make sure that both his body and his clothes had

  completely disappeared from sight.

  “Yikes!” Aaron yelped as Zach vanished before his

  eyes. He reached for the seemingly empty air. A sweaty

  hand groped Zach’s face. “Zach? Is that you?”

  “Who else?” Zach peeled Aaron’s fingers away.

  “I knew what to expect,” Aaron said, “but it’s still pret-

  ty freaky when somebody disappears right in front of

  you. It’s like you’re not really real anymore.”

  “That’s the idea,” Zach whispered to Aaron. “Hogan

  won’t see me coming . . . literally.”

  Aaron nodded and got his camera ready. “Just make it

  YouTube-friendly.”

  “Trust me, everyone’s going to want to see this again.”

  Zach wound invisibly through the crowd, taking care

  not to get in anyone’s way, until he reached the circle of

  kids and teachers watching Hogan’s rope tricks. He el-

  bowed his way past Tricia, who yelped in surprise as an

  unseen force bumped her aside.

  “Hey!” she blurted. “Who did that?”

  Zach bit down on his lip to keep from laughing. The

  baffled look on Tricia’s face nearly made this whole stunt

  worthwhile.

  Now for Hogan, he thought.

  The crowd had cleared a space to give Hogan room to

  twirl his lasso around. He jumped in and out of a spin-

  ning flat loop with both feet. Zach had to admit that his

  moves were pretty slick—but not for long.

  Like a ghost, Zach crept up on Hogan. He planned to

  grab the lasso and throw it back over Hogan, so that it

  would look like he’d accidentally roped himself.

  Zach glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Aaron

  was getting this all on video. Then he darted forward and

  reached for the lasso.

  And missed.

  Frowning, he tried to snag it again.

  And missed.

  Invisible fingers caught only empty air. The problem,

  Zach realized, was that he couldn’t see what he was doing.

  Apparently, hand-eye coordination really suffered when

  the eye couldn’t locate the hand.

  No wonder Sophie had warned him that he’d need more

  practice!

  Hogan twirled the lariat behind his back, drawing ap-

  plause from the spectators, including Rachel and Princi-

  pal Riggs. Frustrated, Zach lunged for the lasso one more

  time—and finally caught hold of it.

  Then his touch turned the rope invisible, too.

  Startled, Hogan let go of the rope, causing Zach to tum-

  ble backward. He tried to get control of the unseen las-

  so, but it whipped around him, tangling up his legs. Zach

  stumbled through the audience toward the refreshments.

  Uh-oh . . .

  Zach saw the jumbo-size plastic punchbowl filled to the

  brim with disaster coming a second before he slammed

  into the table. Gallons of cold lemonade splashed down

  on him, drenching him completely. Ice cubes and lemon

  slices skittered across the dance floor. The bowl rest-

  ed on Zach’s head like a hat, and the impact knocked

  Sophie’s glasses off, causing Zach to turn visible again.

  Aaron dropped his camera and dived after the glasses

  before they could be stomped on.

  “Watch your step, everyone!” Aaron shouted. “Run-

  away glasses!”

  Sprawled on the gym floor, soaked to the skin, Zach

  watched as Principal Riggs marched across the floor to-

  ward him. Hogan’s soggy lasso was still tangled around

  Zach’s legs. Lemonade dripped down his face.

  There was no getting out of this tough spot.

  “Zach King!” Principal Riggs stomped toward him,

  red-faced and fuming. “I should have known you’d be

  behind all this!” He scratched his shiny bald head, ob-

  viously trying to make sense of it all. “Let me guess.

  You were hiding beneath the table . . . in order to pull

  off another of your ridiculous magic tricks?”

  “Um, something like that,” Zach said lamely. He

  couldn’t explain what had really happened without giv-

  ing away his family’s long-held secrets. As far as Prin-

  cipal Riggs and the rest of the world was concerned,

  Zach’s “magic” was all just tricks and illusions.

  “One more year,” Principal Riggs sighed, and turned

  his gaze upward. “All I wanted was to get through my

  last year without any trouble. Just one year. And I’d

  go off, bait my lures, catch some fish, enjoy the quiet

  breezes in the Gulf of Mexico . . . but then you came

  along, Zach King.” He buried his face in his hands.

  “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

  Zach couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the prin-

  cipal. He’d just wanted make things go right for Ra-

  chel this time, not make Principal Riggs cry.

  Untangling himself from the wet rope, Zach looked

  sheepishly at the principal. “Want to talk about fish-

  ing instead?”

  “What I want,” Riggs said, “is to see you in my of-

  fice—again!—bright and early Monday morning. But

  in the meantime, you are hereby banished from this

  dance and these premises for the rest of the evening,

  effective immediately.” His stern gaze swung toward

  Aaron. “And that goes for you, too, young man!”

  “Me?” Aaron hastily hid the hot-pink glasses behind

  his back. “What did I do?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me,” Riggs said. “You

  two are thick as thieves.” He pointed toward the exit.

  “Make tracks, both of you, unless you want Saturday

  detention—again!”

  Zach’s heart sank. If he and Aaron were kicked out

  of the dance, how were they going to keep Rachel from

  being sabotaged again?

  Zach scrambled to his feet, trying to not to slip in the

  spilled lemonade. He took the punch bowl off his head,

  and a stray lemon slice fell out of his hair and onto the

  floor. Peering past Riggs, he saw Rachel standing next to

  Hogan, looking embarrassed. He tried to make eye con-

  tact with her, but she shook her head and looked away.

  Zach couldn’t blame her. He realized just how bad this

  must look from her perspective. He opened his mouth to

  warn her, but what was he supposed to say?

  Rachel, don’t dance with Hogan? Make sure you’re

  wearing a life
preserver?

  He knew just how crazy that would sound, but he

  needed to say something, to try to warn her.

  “Rachel,” he began. “Don’t dance—”

  But Riggs didn’t give him a chance to explain. “You

  heard me, Zach.” He took Zach by the arm and led him

  firmly toward the door, while making sure that Aaron

  got the message as well. “Get moving.”

  The last thing Zach saw, before the principal escorted

  him out the door, was Hogan leading Rachel out onto

  the dance floor.

  After all that, they hadn’t changed anything!

  “Well, that sucks,” Aaron said outside. He handed So-

  phie’s glasses back to Zach for safekeeping. “What are

  we going to do now?”

  A stubborn look came over Zach’s face. “There’s only

  one thing we can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  Zach looked at his magic watch.

  “Try again.”

  Chapter 10

  “Wait—another do-over?” Aaron asked. “Are you seri-

  ous?”

  The boys were walking home from the dance through

  a quiet suburban neighborhood. Neither of them wanted

  to call their parents for a ride, not after being expelled

  from the dance by the principal. Zach got his jacket

  from the coat closet. His soggy clothes hung heavily on

  him. His socks and shoes squished with every step.

  “It’s the only way,” he said. “All we did this time

  was make things worse. To undo all that, we have to

  try it one more time.”

  Aaron looked doubtful. “Don’t you think that might

  be pushing our luck?”

  “Look at it this way,” Zach said. “Do you really want

  to report to the principal’s office on Monday?”

  “No way!” Aaron shuddered at the thought. “We just

  got over doing detention for the alligator mess. Riggs is

  going to throw the book at us for sure.”

  “And then some,” Zach agreed. “And honestly, we’d

  also be doing Riggs a favor by undoing everything that

  just happened. He looked like he was practically ready

  to retire on the spot. We need another do-over . . . for

  everyone’s sake.”

  “Like restarting a video game after you get killed?”

  “Exactly!” Zach thought that was a perfect compari-

  son. “We didn’t make it to the end of Pumpkin Zombies

  IV: The Final Carving the first time through, but we

  beat the final level eventually.”

  “Yeah, after seventeen tries,” Aaron pointed out.

  Zach glanced nervously at the duplicate watch, all

  too aware that the magical copy came with an expira-

  tion date. Was the bronze casing already looking a little

  worn and duller? Zach couldn’t tell for sure. He could

  only hope that it would last long enough for them to get

  one more do-over dance.

  They were getting nearer to Zach’s house. He wasn’t

  looking forward to explaining to his parents why he was

  soaked in lemonade, but if the next do-over fixed things,

  that wouldn’t matter in the long run. His epic fail with

  the punch bowl would never happen—and nobody but

  he and Aaron would ever remember it.

  “But what exactly are we going to do differently next

  time?” Aaron asked.

  Zach wasn’t entirely sure, but he knew one thing for

  certain.

  “No more invisibility. That’s just asking for trouble.”

  He resolved to give Sophie her glasses back as soon as

  he got home. “I’m going to need another kind of magic.”

  “Like what?” Aaron asked.

  “I’m still working on that part,” Zach admitted, “so

  let’s take the night, come up with a plan, and then we’ll

  get together tomorrow, same place, same time, and fig-

  ure that out.”

  Aaron groaned. “Ugh, I already feel dizzy again.”

  Chapter 11

  The next day the boys rewound time again for what

  would be their third chance at a happy ending to the big

  dance.

  By now, Zach barely noticed the music and decora-

  tions at the dance. Been there, done that. He was keep-

  ing his eye on the prize.

  “You know what they say: third time’s the charm,” he

  told Aaron as they worked their way to the dance floor.

  “Who says that exactly?” Aaron asked.

  Zach wasn’t sure. “Um, ‘they’?”

  “That’s what I thought,” Aaron said. As ever, he had

  his camera ready to record the operation for posterity

  and/or social media. “You sure you know what you’re

  doing?”

  “Don’t worry.” Zach reached into his jacket and took

  out a very special deck of playing cards. “I’ve got it—

  this time.”

  Thanks to Gwen’s computer wizardry and the mod-

  ern miracle of long-distance video conferencing, Zach

  had borrowed the magic playing cards from yet another

  of his many cousins, Kristi, who had dazzled everyone

  with her amazing card tricks at Great-Grandpa King’s

  birthday party.

  Forget invisibility, Zach thought. This kind of magic

  I can handle.

  Zach moved across the dance floor, slipping between

  friends and chaperones, to get to where Hogan and Ra-

  chel were before Hogan could start showing off his rope

  tricks. Zach pushed his way through a group of kids

  who were square dancing energetically just in time to

  see Hogan lift a lasso from a saddle that was conve-

  niently mounted on one of the stationary horses near

  where they were.

  “Love the decorations,” Hogan told Rachel. “Makes

  me feel right at home.” He toyed with the rope for a

  moment as if he were getting the feel of it. “You know,”

  he said, as though the idea had just occurred to him, “I

  happen to know a few tricks I could—”

  “Tricks?” Zach interrupted, barging in. “Did some-

  body mention tricks?”

  Rachel looked surprised to see him—and a little wor-

  ried. “Zach?”

  “You know me,” Zach said to everyone in earshot.

  “Tricks are my middle name. Check this out!”

  He fanned the cards out in his hands like a profession-

  al. Magic made it easy. The cards practically moved un-

  der their own power. He collapsed the deck with a dra-

  matic flourish, then fanned them out again. This time all

  fifty-two cards were the king of clubs. He streamed the

  cards from one hand to another, back and forth, then

  revealed that they were all now the queen of hearts.

  A second later, they were all jokers.

  “Uh-oh!” Zach said, hamming it up. “Somebody bet-

  ter call Batman!”

  Gasps and applause greeted the magic tricks as Ho-

  gan scowled. He was left on the sidelines with nothing

  but a boring piece of rope to twirl. Even Principal Riggs

  watched Zach show off his card tricks. Rachel applaud-

  ed as Zach pulled a card from Principal Riggs’s jacket. It

  was the same card he was holding at the bottom of the

  deck. Rachel even winked at Zach.

&nbs
p; He could tell she was happy for him.

  Things were finally going his way. Why try to sabo-

  tage Hogan when he could just upstage him instead?

  “Keep your eyes on the cards,” Zach told the crowd.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet!”

  He collected the cards into the deck, then flung them

  upward with a flick of his wrist. The cards shot into the

  air like a geyser, streaming all the way to the ceiling.

  Wide-eyed kids and teachers craned their necks back to

  watch the cards climb a whole lot higher than a mere fif-

  ty-two cards could possibly reach. It was like the cards

  were multiplying before their eyes.

  Which was exactly what they were doing.

  Top that, Zach thought. He smirked at Hogan, who was

  giving Zach some serious stink eye by now. I’m on to you.

  “Anybody up for a game of fifty-two pickup?”

  He held out his hand, expecting the cards to do a

  U-turn in midair and dive straight back into his palm,

  just like they had done for Kristi at the birthday party.

  But instead the cards started spraying out in all direc-

  tions while multiplying at a ridiculous rate. An endless

  flurry of clubs, spades, hearts, and diamonds swarmed

  the gym, swooping and soaring wildly through the air.

  The cards zipped through streamers, shredding ribbons,

  and careened into balloons, popping them on contact.

  The oohs and aahs turned into “Yikes!” and “Run for

  your life!” as people ducked for cover. Even the Buckeye

  Barn Razors stopped playing as the cards swarmed their

  instruments like bees. The banjo player got so freaked

  out, he swung his instrument at the swarm and acciden-

  tally whacked the fiddler in the head. Zach heard a loud

  twang over the screaming and shouting and thought,

  “Oh, that can’t be good.”

  “Zach!” Rachel screamed, batting a jack of diamonds

  away from her face. “Do something! Get these crazy

  cards of yours under control!”

  “I’m trying!”

  He ran after the cards, waving his arms to try to get

  their attention.

  “Come back here!” he called out. “Get back in the