Secrets of the Magic Ring

by Karen McQuestion

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright ©2011 Karen McQuestion

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by AmazonEncore

  P.O. Box 400818

  Las Vegas, NV 89140

  ISBN: 978-1-61218-142-4

  For Jack, who believes he is my favorite

  K.M.

  To the memory of my mother and father,

  who always encouraged my artistic pursuits.

  V.P.D.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  The best thing that ever happened to Paul was when his aunt offered to pay for a pool as a gift for his ninth birthday. Talk about a major development! His mother had choked on her iced tea when Aunt Vicky told them the news. It would be the best kind of pool too, one with a big water slide and a diving board.

  At first it didn’t sound like his parents were going to go for it. Aunt Vicky had been kind of mean in the past, making snide comments about the way their house was decorated. “Ticky-tack” was what she called his mother’s new window treatments, little wooden shutters that Paul thought were really cool. Aunt Vicky could be kind of mean to Paul too. Sometimes she told him to scram when the adults were talking, and once she ordered him to go change his shirt. It was only a little dirty, and why did she care anyway? But his father nodded at him to do it, so he did. Aunt Vicky was as bossy as she was beautiful.

  His parents told Aunt Vicky that they would consider her generous pool offer and get back to her. He overheard them discussing it when they didn’t know he was listening. His father said, “I don’t care if she is rich. I still don’t like the idea of accepting a gift that costs thousands of dollars. Who knows what she has up her sleeve?”

  His mother had a different take on it. “Vicky seems different now for some reason. I don’t think she has an agenda this time.” They talked about it for a long time, and then Paul didn’t hear anything about it for days. He’d almost given up hope, until one evening at dinner when they told him their decision. The answer was yes.

  Paul jumped out of his seat in excitement. “Really? We’re for sure getting a pool?” he asked. His voice came out in a little squeak like it sometimes did. He loved swimming, but the public pool was so far away that they hardly ever went. And now he’d have one in his own backyard! Wow.

  His mom and dad grinned at each other, pleased with his response. “Really,” his dad said. “The crew is coming next week to cut down some trees and dig the hole. It will be the first day of your summer vacation. You can watch them work from the house, but you can’t go outside. You’d just get in their way.”

  “This is so great. Thanks, Mom and Dad.” Paul ran around the table and gave them each a hug, then bounced on the balls of his feet before returning to his plateful of baked fish and potatoes.

  “You and your friends won’t be able to go in the pool without adult supervision,” his mother said. “And none of that horseplay, that pushing you boys do. I don’t want anyone to drown or crack their heads open.” She worried about everything.

  “I know, I know.” Paul stabbed a chunk of roasted potato and nodded vigorously. “No horseplay. Got it, Mom.” He couldn’t wait. This was going to be awesome.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The first morning of summer vacation, a crew came to dig the pool, and Paul invited his friend Celia over to watch. Celia was a year older and his closest neighbor. Her house was on the other end of their country road. Paul and Celia often played together in the woods behind their houses. Today they sat cross-legged on the floor and peered through the patio door. Front-row seats for the excavation. When Paul’s dog, Clem, plunked down next to them, Celia rubbed his floppy ears and petted his furry back. “What a good boy you are,” she said. The dog yawned and stretched his legs contentedly.

  The previous day the pool had been mapped out and stakes inserted in each corner. Yellow tape linked the stakes and outlined the edges. Paul had walked around the perimeter trying to imagine how it would be when it was finished. Today his dream would become a reality.

  Through the glass, Paul watched as the crew of men wearing orange vests and hard hats yelled directions back and forth. They began by cutting down trees with chainsaws. The trees came down quickly, faster than Paul would have thought.

  “Complete carnage,” he said excitedly.

  “Poor trees,” Celia said. Her blonde hair framed a frowning face. “They probably had no idea that today would be their last day. That’s so sad.”

  It was just like Celia to think about how the trees must feel, when really, who cared? The main thing was that Paul was getting a pool! He bounced up and down, almost upsetting the bowl of pretzels by his knee. “Yep,” he said, “sometimes trees have to die if you want to get a pool.”

  Two of the men dragged the branches away to the wood chipper in the driveway. Paul’s mother went outside to ask if she could have the wood chips for her garden, while Paul and Celia stayed in their spots. Now the digger was in position. One of the men waved to the two kids as he pulled the tape off the stakes.

  Celia waved back and Paul did too, and then the digging began. The engine growled, and the machine scooped into the dirt, looking like a giant metal jaw eating crumbly chocolate. The men’s voices were drowned out by the sound of the digger.

  All morning the two kids sat and watched, mesmerized. The space was transformed from a backyard of grass and trees to a deep hole with piles of soil and rocks alongside it. The digging part of the project would take two days, Paul’s parents had said. The first day to make the hole, the second to shape it and make it exactly right for the other workers who would create the liner for the water.

  After lunchtime, Paul reluctantly left his spot by the window when Celia’s mother came to pick them up. Celia’s folks owned a toy company called Lovejoy World. Today was the debut of an exciting new product, and Celia and Paul were invited to watch the ceremony at the factory. Paul had visited the company before with Celia, and it was always fun. Usually the employees fussed over them and gave them treats, and invariably he came home with some free toys. Today, though, he found himself wishing he could stay home to watch the action in his ba
ckyard. What if he missed something? Man, it seemed like nothing happened in his life for years, and now he had two things happening at once. There was no point in changing his mind about going with Celia, though, because his mother would say he was being rude and then push him out the door.

  At Lovejoy World he managed to forget about the pool for a short time. Celia’s dad unveiled his newest toy creation, the Lovejoy Magic Wand Flute Necklace, and all the workers oohed and aahed when he demonstrated how it worked. “What do you think, Paul?” Celia’s father asked afterward.

  “Awesome,” Paul said, politely faking enthusiasm. “It looks like a lot of fun.” The Magic Wand Flute Necklace was clearly a girl thing, but the lights that sparkled when the flute played were pretty cool.

  When Celia and her parents dropped him off at home a few hours later, he went straight to the backyard and stared down into the hole. The piles were now gone, and there were deep tread marks all over the grass. His mother wouldn’t be happy about that.

  The back door swung open, and Paul heard the screen door squeak. “Oh there you are,” his mother called out. “I didn’t know you were home.”

  “They just dropped me off,” Paul said. “I wanted to see what happened while I was gone.”

  “You didn’t miss much,” Mom said. “It took a little longer than they thought because they hit what they think was an old well a few feet down. It made such a racket I nearly got a headache.” She narrowed her eyes and furrowed her forehead in worry. “You’re making me nervous standing so close to the edge, Paul. Move back a little bit.”

  “I’m not going to fall in,” Paul said, but he stepped back anyway, just to humor her.

  “We’re eating soon,” she said. “Why don’t you come inside now?”

  “I just want to stay out for a few minutes.” Paul toed at the dirt and knocked a stone down into the pit.

  “Have it your way.” She sighed. “Just don’t get too close to the edge, and whatever you do, don’t get dirty.” She went inside, and the screen door slammed shut.

  Paul couldn’t keep his eyes off the hole. He had no idea it would look so impressive, like a miniature Grand Canyon in his backyard. He leaned over, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled, “Hello down there!” then waited, but there was nothing. No echo, no answer. He knew his mother would be furious, but something made him sit down by the edge and dangle his feet into the opening. It made him feel like an explorer. Or maybe one of those guys who digs for dinosaurs and stuff. What was that called—an architect? Or was he confusing the word with the title for people who design buildings? Anyway, the main thing was the digging and discovery. Who knew, maybe his backyard held gold nuggets or skeletons. Anything was possible.

  The yard smelled good, like the woods after a rain. The dirt in the hole was the color of brownie mix. When he craned his neck, he could see all the way down. No sign of an old well. They must have dug it all out.

  Paul leaned forward, pressing the heels of his feet against the side of the pit for support. It was then he spotted something about halfway down, jutting out of one side. It appeared to be more square than round, so he didn’t think it could be a rock. So odd. Why would there be a box-like structure buried in his backyard? He tried to get a better look, but it was impossible to see at this distance. He needed to get closer.

  He stood up and brushed the dirt off the back of his pants. All he needed was a spade from the garage and he could dig it out. His parents wouldn’t like it, but if he was really quiet he might be able to do it without them knowing. There was no point in asking—they’d just say no. He remembered something his grandpa had once said: “Paul, it’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.”

  His mother had gotten mad then and responded sharply, “Don’t tell him that!” Then she turned to Paul and said, “Grandpa is kidding. You always need to ask permission.” His grandfather had winked at him when his mom wasn’t looking. His parents were big on the rules, but Grandpa was cool.

  The back door swung open again, and his mother startled him out of his thoughts. “Paul, please come in and wash up. We’re eating in ten minutes.”

  Paul knew not to argue. Later he’d go into the hole and figure out exactly what was sticking out of the dirt.

  CHAPTER THREE

  After dinner, without being asked, Paul helped his mother clear the table and rinse the dishes. He knew from past experience that this was an excellent strategy for putting her in a good mood. Now for sure she’d let him go outside without any questions. While he and his mother finished with the dishes, his father settled down in front of the TV, just as Paul had hoped.

  When the kitchen was spotless, Paul said, “I want to go out for a while, okay, Mom? Maybe see if Celia can play?” His mother approved of Celia, so mentioning her name was a nice touch. Of course he’d said “maybe,” so it wasn’t a complete lie.

  His mother smiled. “I suppose it’ll be fine. But stay in the neighborhood, and once it starts getting dark, come on home.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  “I don’t want to be yelling for you and calling over at the Lovejoys’ house. You’re old enough to keep track yourself.”

  “I know, I know. Stay in the neighborhood, and come in once it starts getting dark,” he said, reciting the words back to make her happy.

  She hung the dish towel over the oven handle. “All right then, Paul.”

  From the next room, his father called out, “The show is starting, Leah.”

  “Be right there,” she said.

  It was all too easy, Paul thought, slipping out the back door. He went to the garage and found the small spade his mother used for gardening. He noticed that the ladder, which was usually up in the rafters, was leaning against the wall by the lawn mower. What luck! Paul moved it carefully so it wouldn’t make any noise. He knew his parents were engrossed in their show, but if they heard a big bang in the garage they’d come out to investigate, and that would be the end of it for him.

  The aluminum ladder was easy to lift. When he got to the backyard, he glanced back at the house, worried his parents might be able to see him through the window. Lucky for him, Mom had closed the shutters, probably to keep the glare out of the room.

  Paul lowered the ladder into the hole. It was a bit short, and the top only came to the edge of the opening. He could make it work, though. Paul pushed on the ladder to check for stability. If the thing fell over while he was on it, that would be terrible, the worst thing ever. And if his mother found out what he was doing, she’d probably never let him out of the house again.

  He rested a foot on the top rung of the ladder, and it held fast. He really was going to do this! Paul took a deep breath. All was quiet, except for the sound of birds chirping from the direction of the woods. Must be careful, he thought.

  So many times he’d bungled things by hurrying. The kids in his grade called him Spaz because he was always jiggling and bouncing. He tried not to, but honestly, he couldn’t help it. Energy coursed out of him like an electrical current. His mother often said she’d like to have half of his stamina. She had a serious nap habit and was known to fall asleep in the recliner while watching TV. That would never happen to Paul, who loved moving around and was never bored. He was so full of ideas he sometimes found it hard to sleep at night because his mind swirled with possibilities.

  And now another possibility was in front of him. If only the kids at school could see him now. He stuck the spade in the waistband of his shorts and lowered himself down the ladder. One rung at a time, that was the way to do it. When he got to the part where the mystery object stuck out of the side, he realized the ladder was positioned too far to the left. Shoot!

  He climbed out of the hole with regret. It was hard to move the ladder from the top, but he maneuvered it back and forth to the right spot. Another trip down, one footstep at a time. When he was alongside the bump, he reached over to touch it. It was rectangular in shape, about the size of his dad’s tackle box,
and encrusted with dirt. So weird that it was underground, whatever it was. He tapped on it with the spade, but it didn’t budge, so he starting digging around it. Man, oh man, this was cool! And to think his mother thought he was at the Lovejoys’ house right now hanging out with Celia. Celia never would have climbed down into a hole. She wasn’t the explorer type at all.

  He periodically stopped digging in order to shimmy the box from side to side, but even after several minutes, it wouldn’t come out. Paul considered getting a shovel, but he knew it would be hard to manage and still keep his balance on the ladder, so he kept going with the spade and used his hands too.

  After digging some more, the box loosened enough that Paul thought he could pull it free. He wiped the spade off with his fingers and rested it on a rung of the ladder, then grabbed the box with both hands. Almost there, almost there. He wiggled it back and forth, like a loose tooth.