Trying to warm up my muscles, I joined the other girls and began running around the field.
“Faster everyone!” shouted Ms. Dreeble, who abandoned the sidelines and began running with us. “After four laps, we’ll take some shots on goal.”
During the Halloween match, soccer played me as if I was a violin and the rhythm of the game plucked itself on my strings. All my senses came alive, and I could feel things more than any ordinary person. I admit that maybe it was a little like being a puppet dangled on a string. But for the moment, it seemed better than what I was experiencing now – shin splints. The only thing I saw now was heavy gray skies. And the only thing I smelled – come to think of it, I didn’t smell a thing because my nose was plugged up. But hard work paid off, and while my kicks weren’t exactly magical, I did manage to get a few balls past the goalie. Another thing that was very different preparing for this match was that my energy wasn’t boundless. After an hour and a half of soccer practice, Mia, Amarjeet, and I dragged ourselves home. Muddy and sore, I couldn’t wait for a hot bath.
“We’ve got the soccer field for two practices during the week, and for next Saturday afternoon!” Ms. Dreeble called after us.
The match was creeping up fast. Only three more practices and the game would be the following Monday. Time to step up feeding Jasper more misinformation. As I discussed with Mia and Amarjeet how we could sabotage the boys’ soccer practice, Emily joined us.
“We really should keep up with our running,” she said.
I glanced at Emily’s long legs and thought, easy for you to say, but I said, “Maybe tomorrow?” Mia and Amarjeet seemed even less enthusiastic, muttering something about “other plans.”
When I got home, Mom had dinner ready: tacos – birthday girl’s choice. Sookie had regained her happy mood and dug into her taco after she loaded it up with a lion’s share of shredded cheese and hardly any lettuce or tomatoes.
“So, you had a good birthday?” Mom smiled hopefully. I could tell this was important to her because our lives were so different from before our parents’ divorce. There was no money in the budget for laser tag or one of those parties where
you went to a store to build your own fancy teddy bear – activities like that might have actually lured a few friends into coming to Sookie’s party.
“Best birthday ever.” Sookie nodded enthusiastically and then crunched into her gigantic taco. Most of the filling fell out of the other end and scattered on the table.
I was glad she was no longer frustrated by the gift I’d given her. When Mom asked her if she wanted to watch a DVD after dinner – some cartoon princess movie – she said, “No. I’m going back up to the attic to practice my magic.”
“Uh, Sookie,” I advised, “are you sure you want to get into that again? Besides, your assistant has gone home. I mean, look at me – I’m beat after all my soccer today, and I’m sure if I tried practicing, I’d just get frustrated.” Mom nodded in agreement.
“First of all,” Sookie said firmly, “I’m no longer just ‘Sookie.’ I’m ‘Sookie, Queen of Mystery.’ And I figured out what I was doing wrong this afternoon,” she said, looking a bit mysterious.
“Your choice – you’re the birthday girl,” Mom agreed. “But it’s getting late. How about having your bath first, and then you can practice with your magic kit in your room.”
“Can I bring down some of the clothes from the trunk?” asked Sookie.
Mom nodded.
Sookie shot her hand up in the air and said, “Yes!”
I sure hoped by tomorrow when her birthday was over that she wasn’t going to expect having everything her way.
Later, as Sookie practiced magic in her room after washing up, I could finally get around to jumping into a hot bath myself. I dumped in a ton of bubble foam – jasmine, my favorite. After I settled in the tub, I turned on more hot water until steam coated the bathroom mirror and tiles. The fragrant water seeped deep into my sore muscles. With my finger, I carved xs and os into the suds, imagining soccer plays. After my bath, I wrapped myself in Mom’s thick chenille bathrobe. Pattering down the hall to my bedroom, I could hear talking from my sister’s room.
I tapped lightly on the door, but when Sookie didn’t answer, I cracked it open and checked inside. The purple turban with the black feather and sparkling ruby sat lopsided on the Queen of Mystery’s head. She was holding cards in her hand and she was mumbling odd words.
“Ahem,” I said, trying to get her attention.
Sookie’s head jerked toward me. “Get out!” she shouted.
I quickly backed away from her room. Then, more like her usual self, Sookie jumped up, the turban slipping off her head and tumbling to the floor. “Sorry. It’s just that magicians need to keep their secrets, and I was trying to conjure.”
Not about to admit to my kid sister that I didn’t exactly know what conjuring was, I simply nodded and closed the door. But as I began to walk away, a ray of pale green light oozed out from under Sookie’s door. I knocked again and stepped inside.
“What’s making that weird-colored light?” I asked. Weird wasn’t exactly the right word … more like eerie.
“My new Aladdin’s lamp,” Sookie said quickly.
“Oh, right.” I slipped out again, shutting her door. Once in the privacy of my room, I recalled looking in the box and I didn’t remember seeing different-colored bulbs for the lamp. Shrugging my shoulders, I grabbed my dictionary off my desk and looked up the word “conjure”: To summon by magical incantation.
What exactly was Sookie trying to summon?
Just then I heard a strange loud pop and a buzz.
My bedroom light flashed and then went out.
CHAPTER 6 The Demon Handkerchief
THE WHOLE HOUSE plunged into darkness. My heart thumped as I scrambled to find a candle in my room. But what good was a candle when I didn’t have any matches? Although the day had been reasonably mild, the wind now howled in shrill blasts, and a bitter draft made its way through the window pane. Blood pumped loudly in my ears, so I missed the pitter patter of steps down the hall. I jumped back and my heart thumped when a ghostly face hovered in my doorway.
Gasping, I realized it was only Sookie. Her face was illuminated by the spooky pale light of her Aladdin’s lamp.
“Power’s gone out,” she said coolly.
Pulling myself together, and determined to be braver than my kid sister, I forced a calm expression. Sookie was never scared of the dark. Of course, I wasn’t either; I just didn’t like it much. Swallowing my nerves, I went downstairs with Sookie. Her lamp lit our way.
A thread of light bobbed, and Mom came out of the kitchen carrying a flashlight. “It’s not just our house – it looks like the power is out on our entire block.” She went into the hall closet and put on her wool coat and thickest scarf. “I’m just going to check out the next street.”
Shivering, Sookie and I went with her onto the porch as the frigid air slapped our skin. Ice covered everything and the telephone lines sagged. Some branches had snapped off the trees. A power line had broken from a transformer and the wire dangled in the front of our house, writhing like an enraged cobra spitting blue and yellow sparks into the night.
“Oh my gosh, get back in the house!” Mom warned. “A downed line can be deadly. I’ll go out back and listen to the news on the car radio.”
Sookie and I huddled on the couch and waited. What a time for the furnace to cut out. We pulled the scratchy wool afghan over us and kept our feet off the cold floor. Mom eventually returned carrying a pile of firewood and the barbecue lighter. I helped her start a fire in the fireplace while she explained what she’d heard on the radio.
“This is bizarre,” she said. “An ice storm has hit. The ice has brought down most of the main power lines.”
I lit some newspaper, placed it in the fireplace on the grate, and blew the tiny red embers until the kindling burst into flame. Inhaling the wood smoke, I asked. “Why is that bizarre?”
> “This town rarely gets any cold weather,” said Mom. “And yet, we got the storm even though it missed the city, which is farther north.”
Yellow flames danced in the hearth. “It’s fortunate, though, that we’re the only area that’s been hit,” Mom continued. “The power company is able to send workers right away to fix our lines. We should have the electricity restored late tomorrow night.”
That didn’t sound so fortunate to me because that meant school would be on as usual come Monday. Mom allowed us to drag our quilts down to the living room, and we camped out by the fire. But even that drove me nuts as Sookie wouldn’t stop reading by her Aladdin’s lamp. It kept shining in my face all night. When Mom finally made her turn the
lamp off, Sookie pestered me, whispering over and over how her magic tricks now worked.
“That’s great,” I muttered in exhaustion, my eyelids drooping as if they were tied to sacks of cement. “Glad it’s working out.” Then I drifted to sleep as her voice chattered away, fading into my dreams. She was going on and on about how magic was really all about secrets … or something like that.
***
True to the power company’s word, the electricity was quickly restored on Sunday. When Monday morning came, the classrooms were buzzing as everyone talked about the storm; it seemed as if our town never had what one teacher called “severely inclement weather” in the fall.
“We froze,” complained Mia. “My little sister and I had to wear our coats and hats to bed!”
“We had to have cold soup for dinner,” agreed Amarjeet.
I guessed the ice storm was a lot harder on people who didn’t have fireplaces. By noon on Monday, the sun came out again and warmed the outdoors, but the rays had turned the frozen soccer field to mush. So, despite the soccer schedule our principal, Ms. Severn, had posted on the gym door, both the girls’ and boys’ teams had to crowd into the gym after school for indoor soccer.
Confined to one half of the gymnasium, I whispered to the other girls, “Look, we’re not going to get a decent workout anyway, so why not put on a little show?”
“What do you mean?” asked Emily as her forehead wrinkled and the corners of her mouth tugged down into what was maybe going to be a frown.
“I say we play badly,” I continued, despite her disapproving look. “We miss balls, shoot wildly, and basically trick the boys into thinking we won’t be any challenge to them at all.”
Mia and Amarjeet giggled and then agreed with enthusiasm.
“I don’t know …” Emily scanned the gym. “We need to build up our leg muscles – soccer’s all about running without getting winded.”
“All we’ll get is dizzy running around half a gym.” Amanda joined our huddle. “So we might as well make better use of our time.”
“Well?” I asked with an evil grin.
Emily managed to look a bit wicked herself. “I guess it could be fun.”
Like a shot we were off, scrambling around in crazy formations, missing balls, tripping over our feet. The boys’ practice slowed as they turned to watch. Enjoying their attention, we goofed off even more. When they laughed and began to imitate us, we knew we weren’t fooling anybody. But it was all too much fun to resist. Soon both the boys and girls were playing together, stumbling around, and bouncing volley balls, tennis balls, and any kind of ball we could find onto the gleaming wood floor. Zach and Jasper began shooting a soccer ball through a basketball hoop. Our entire practice disintegrated into madness, and soon I found myself inside a circle of flying dodge balls. Even though no one was throwing hard, the soccer balls hurt pretty bad if they hit you.
A shrill whistle blasted our ears. We all stopped and turned as Mr. Morrows and Ms. Dreeble scowled at us. Our laugher died away, and there was only the sound of us shuffling around.
“This is what I’m giving up my time for?” Ms. Dreeble shook her head in disbelief, removing her thick glasses before they slid down her nose.
“Do you really think you can spare precious practice time?” Mr. Morrows glared at the boys, his mustache twitching. “I thought you cared about winning the intramurals.” Jasper looked horrified. Clearly he wasn’t used to upsetting teachers.
After a lecture about discipline and how people who succeeded had to maintain their focus, we were all dismissed. Seems that the teachers didn’t think the gym should be kept open late for what Mr. Morrows called “chicanery resulting in injury.” As we piled out of the school and began heading home, I heard a disgruntled voice from behind.
“Whose bright idea was that anyway?”
Clive had stepped out of the crowd and was staring suspiciously at me. It didn’t help that Mia and Emily’s eyes shifted in my direction.
“I thought so,” complained Clive. “You are nothing but trouble with your punk hairstyle and bad attitude.”
Where did that come from? I spun around, ready to lay into him about how everyone seemed more than happy to join in and fool around in the gym, but come to think of it, I hadn’t actually seen Clive participate. So all I managed was to say, “For your information, those green streaks in my hair are my natural color.”
“That’s what I’d expect someone like you to say,” Clive said dismissively.
What was his problem? “Maybe you’re getting a little worried about the match.”
But Clive snapped, “Who cares about the match? What I don’t want is to lose the intramurals.”
“Well who said you’re the one who is going to the intramurals in the first place?” I shouted back. And so what – I’d gotten a little sidetracked. But all of a sudden I squirmed uncomfortably. Clive had a way of getting to me. Not wanting to give him an ounce of satisfaction, I waited until he stormed off, leaving everyone behind. Then I talked Mia and Emily into coming with me to apologize to Ms. Dreeble. It was a smart move because our teacher seemed satisfied as we promised to work a lot harder. Also, I think it helped that Emily volunteered us to gather up all the balls on the gym floor and put the soccer nets away.
It was getting dark by the time I got home, and I was looking forward to whatever Mom would be making for dinner. But when I opened the door, I was completely disoriented as I stared into our crowded living room. About a dozen little kids were sitting all over the furniture, tables, and floor. More disconcerting, Clive and Jasper were sitting on each end of the couch, and Mom sat between them. When did we become a rec center for all these little kids? And I could really live without Clive and Jasper hanging out here too.
Skeeter and the Queen of Mystery were about to dazzle the crowd with a magic show. They had somehow managed to drag the trunk down from the attic and they’d turned it upside down to set it up as a prop – a table for their magic tricks. Sookie had used glitter pens and dotted the blue cape with sparkly stars and moons. She’d draped the cape over the top of the trunk like a table cloth. I found a spot on the wool rug as Sookie prepared to perform.
In a way, I didn’t want to watch the show, and I wished I could just go to my room and do homework. But I knew that would hurt my sister. What if Sookie’s act turned into another disaster – and in front of all these kids? They wouldn’t be as
understanding as her little friend Skeeter. Worse yet, I didn’t want her to provide any more amusement for Clive. The part I didn’t get was whether this was about my pride or Sookie’s.
My sister looked kind of silly in that huge purple turban that slipped back and forth on her head. And she almost tripped on the glittery red dress she wore. Skeeter wore the stiff white shirt and red bow tie. He stood proudly in front of the end table. Clearly they thought they looked professional.
“The Queen of Mystery will now perform the Demon Handkerchief trick,” Skeeter announced with a large sweep of his arm, before jumping out of my sister’s way.
Sookie shook out a large green handkerchief. Skeeter announced in an ominous tone, “Whatever is placed in the demon handkerchief will never be seen again.” Then Skeeter produced a plastic gold coin from his pocket and h
anded it to Sookie.
The Queen of Mystery folded the handkerchief over the coin, put the handkerchief on the trunk, and then she spoke to the handkerchief saying, “Bow-la.” I thought to myself, Woops, she means “voila,” as I’d heard other magicians say. She lifted the handkerchief up right away. The coin was gone. Not bad, I thought. Jasper got on his hands and knees and checked under the table and behind Sookie and Skeeter, but I hadn’t heard anything drop. A few of the kids clapped. Next, Skeeter flashed a large card in front of the audience – the Queen of Diamonds. Again, Sookie slipped the handkerchief over the card, said, “Bow-la,” and again placed it on top of the trunk. She instantly shook the handkerchief, opened it … and the card couldn’t be found! Now everyone clapped.
Next, Skeeter came out of the kitchen holding an egg. Mom frowned slightly, but she didn’t interrupt their act. After tucking the egg into the silk handkerchief, Sookie placed the wrapped egg on the trunk. When she shook the handkerchief again and said her magic words, she let go of one end. The kids closest to her expected an egg to come hurtling forward, so they tried to dodge. I gulped.
The egg had disappeared!
This time I clapped along with everyone else. Just as Skeeter was about to hand Sookie one of my mother’s fancy china teacups, the doorbell rang. Mom stood up. “That was wonderful, but it sounds like parents are arriving to take everyone home.” I noticed she took back her teacup quickly.
As the kids filed out, I heard Clive say to Skeeter, “Not bad, but you do know a magician is supposed to bring back the object that’s disappeared, right?”
“We can’t yet,” said Skeeter. “But Sookie thinks she’ll figure it out.”
Clive scowled as he herded his brother to the door. “You could learn the trick.”
Grim Hill: The Secret Deepens Page 4