by Edward Eager
Mark didn't think much of the love blah, but he watched the villain getting more villainous, and the hero getting more heroic, and patiently waited for them to slug it out.
Martha hated it.
That was always the way with Martha. She wanted to go to the movies like anything until she got there, and then she hated it. Now she kept pestering the others to read her the words and tell her what was happening (for in those days movies did not talk). And when the others wouldn't, she began to whine.
"Be quiet," said Jane.
"I want to go home," said Martha.
"You can't!" said Jane.
"Shush!" said all the other people in the theater.
"I want to, anyway," said Martha.
Jane finally had to put her under the seat. This usually happened in the end.
"Let me out!" said Martha, rising up from below.
But Jane pushed down heavily on the seat, and Martha collapsed under it.
It was dark and gloomy down there, with nothing to look at but dust and old gum other people had got tired of. Martha thought of crying, but she had tried this once in the past, and Jane had kicked her. She decided she might as well go to sleep.
Meanwhile, on the screen above, the hero was finally having his fight with the villain, and Jane and Mark and Katharine forgot all about Martha in their excitement. Jane also forgot to keep hold of her handbag, and it slipped from her lap and fell to the floor.
The wretched Martha, thankful for small favors, took the handbag and put it under her head, though it made rather a lumpy pillow.
I hope it is not necessary to remind you of what was in the handbag.
Jane remembered suddenly, and felt for it, in a panic. It wasn't on her lap. She reached down to feel for it on the floor. At that moment she heard Martha speak.
"Ho hum. I wish I weren't here!" Martha said sleepily.
"Darn!" was the first thought of Jane. "Another wish wasted. Now she'll be only half here, I suppose."
Then, as the idea of this sank in, her blood froze. She didn't dare to look. Would just a severed head and shoulders meet her gaze, or would there be only a pair of gruesome legs running around down there?
At last she made herself lean over and see.
The charm hadn't worked it out that way at all. Martha was half there, to be sure, but it was all of her that was half there! Her outline was clear, but her features and everything that came between were sort of foggy and transparent. It was as though it were the ghost of Martha that stared up at Jane.
She stared up at Jane and saw her horrified expression; then she stared down at herself. And then Martha—or the half of her that was still there—lost her head completely. Uttering a low wail, she struggled to her feet, scrambled out through the row of seats, and ran up the aisle.
It is not often that one is watching a movie, and suddenly a wailing ghostly figure rises from the floor and scrambles past one.
Most of the ladies Martha scrambled past merely fainted.
The woman who had not grasped it all, before, now gave a shriek, and grasped her husband.
"Oh!" cried Jane, in a rage, catching up her handbag. "I wish I'd never even heard of that charm!"
And immediately she had only half heard of it. It was like a story she had read somewhere and half forgotten. And so naturally she didn't think of using the charm to bring Martha back to normal again. Instead, she ran up the aisle after her. Mark and Katharine ran after Jane.
An usher, running down the aisle to see what the coinmotion was, ran into them. He saw the handbag, heard the woman screaming, and decided Jane had stolen the bag. This slowed the children up a little, though no one was seriously hurt. The scratch the usher received was a mere scratch.
Meanwhile the ghostly Martha had run on up the aisle. In the darkness of the theater, not many people noticed her, but in the brightly lit lobby it was another story. The ticket-taker squealed, and threw her tickets in the air. The manager came running out of his office. He saw Martha, and turned pale.
"Oh, what next?" he cried, tearing his hair. "As if business weren't bad enough already, now the theater is haunted!" He aimed a blow at her with his cashbox. "Get along with you, you pesky thing!" he cried. "Why don't you go back where you came from?"
The hapless Martha moaned, and flitted on through the lobby, and into the street.
The appearance of her ghostly form upon the sidewalk caused quite a stir among the city's crowd of shoppers.
"It's an advertising stunt!" said a stout woman. "What they won't think of to sell these here moom pitchers next!"
"It's a sign!" said a thin woman. "It's the end of the world, and me in this old dress!"
"Tell it to go away!" groaned a well-dressed gentleman. "And I'll give back every cent I stole!"
"It's an outrage!" muttered an elderly person. "I shall complain to my Congressman!"
"It's a little girl, only she's only half there," said a child, but of course nobody paid any attention to her!
Some people who were afraid of ghosts started running, to get away from the horrible sight.
Martha started running in the opposite direction, to get away from the people.
Other people saw them running, and began to run, too, without knowing why. In no time at all a panic began to spread, as it will when people start behaving in this way, without thinking.
"What's the matter?" said a man to another man who was running by him. "You look as if you'd seen a ghost!"
"I just did!" cried the man. "Look!" And he pointed at the fleeing Martha.
"Don't be silly. There's no such thing," said the first man, who happened to be a learned professor. He glanced at the misty Martha. "Marsh gas," he said. "Very interesting."
"Martians? Did you say Martians?" said a third man, who happened to be passing. "The Martians are invading us!" he cried, without waiting for an answer. He began to run and everyone who heard him began running, too.
By the time Jane and Mark and Katharine had dealt with the usher and emerged from the movie theater, pandemonium reigned in the street. Someone had called the fire department and turned in a general alarm. Someone else had telephoned the police and asked them to send the riot squad. The wails of approaching fire sirens and the screeches of police whistles added confusion to the scene.
A crowd of people rushed past the theater.
"The Martians have landed!" they cried, pointing back in the opposite direction. "We saw one of them, all transparent and horrible!"
Jane and Mark and Katharine looked up the street in the direction the people were pointing in. Far in the distance they could just make out the dim figure of Martha, running along all by herself. They ran after her.
By this time no one was paying any attention to Martha at all. Everyone was too busy worrying about imaginary men from Mars.
But somehow, once she had started running, Martha found that she couldn't stop. And the more she ran, the more frightened she felt. This often happens.
She came to a corner, and turned it. The noise of the shouting and the sirens died away behind her. She was in a quiet street she had never seen before, a street of little shops. The street was deserted. Martha chose the middle shop and went in.
A few seconds later Jane and Mark and Katharine came round the corner and stood looking at the little shops. There was no sign of any part of Martha.
"Use the charm!" Mark cried. "Wish!"
"Oh, that old story!" said Jane. "Who ever believed that?"
Mark and Katharine stared at her with open mouths.
"What did you say?" said Mark.
Jane didn't answer. Quickly making up her mind, she chose a shop at one end of the row, and started in. Mark and Katharine, wondering what in the world had happened to Jane, followed. Then the three children stopped in the doorway, horrified.
The shop was a jeweler's, and costly diamonds and rich rings glittered on its counters. In the shop were a man and a woman. The man had a cap pulled low over his eyes. The woman w
ore a black-and-white skirt and a red blouse.
"Come on," the man was saying. "Now's de chance to loot de joint while everybody's away watchin' de riot!"
The man and woman started loading their pockets with pieces of jewelry from the counter. Katharine chose this moment to sneeze. The man and woman turned, and saw the three children standing in the doorway.
The man with the cap advanced toward Jane in a menacing fashion.
"O.K.," he said. "Hand over de bag."
Jane clutched her handbag to her. She seemed to half remember that there was a particular reason why she shouldn't lose it, but she couldn't think what the reason was. She didn't know what to do.
But Mark knew. He put his hand on the bag Jane was holding, and wished he and Jane and Katharine were where Martha was, only twice as far.
The next moment the man in the cap and the woman in the red blouse were alone, looking at the spot where the three children had been.
"Jeepers creepers!" said the man in the cap. "Dey've flew de coop!"
When Martha ran into the middle shop, at first she didn't see anybody, only books.
There were books in shelves on all the walls, and books on tables in all the corners. There was a large desk in the middle of the shop, piled high with books, and at first that seemed to be all. Then a face peered at Martha from over the pile of books on the desk, and a second later a rather small gentleman emerged from behind it. The gentleman wore a small pointed beard, and he held an open book in one hand.
He looked at Martha.
Martha looked back at him, waiting for him to scream, or faint, or run away, the way everyone else had.
But the rather small gentleman did none of these things. He smiled, and bowed politely.
"Good afternoon," he said. "I presume this is a ghostly visitation? I am honored. Did you come out of one of the books? You might be Little Nell, I suppose, or Amy March, though the clothes don't look right."
"No, I'm Martha," said Martha. "And I didn't come out of a book; I came by magic charm."
And although she was old enough by now to know that no grown-up ever will credit any story that has magic in it, she proceeded to tell the small gentleman all about the charm, starting from the beginning. The small gentleman seemed particularly interested in the part about the children's mother.
"This didn't happen out on West Bancroft Street, by any chance, did it?" he interrupted her to ask. "About three nights ago?"
"Why, yes! How did you know?" said Martha, amazed.
"Never mind," said the small gentleman. "Do go on. Tell me more."
So Martha told him all about the movies, and Jane's putting her under the seat, and the wish she had made, and all that had happened afterwards.
"And so here I am," she ended, "only I'm only half here."
"So I see," said the small gentleman.
"It's kind of an interesting feeling, now I'm not scared anymore," said Martha. "Only I'm about ready for it to stop now. Mother'll be expecting us by dinnertime, and I'm afraid she might not like it if I came home like this. She isn't good with magic, the way you are. It upsets her."
"Yes, I know it does," said the small gentleman, absently.
"Oh, do you know Mother?" said Martha.
"Well, not exactly," said the small gentleman.
"Then how do you know about her? Are you magic, too? Are you a wizard or something? I thought you might be, when I saw that beard. Do you know any tricks to put me back together again?"
"I'm afraid not," said the small gentleman.
"Of course if Mark and Jane and Katharine were here," Martha went on, "they've got the charm, and they could wish me back. Don't you have any spells to sort of summon people?"
The small gentleman shook his head. "No spells. And I'm not a wizard, I'm sorry to say. This is the first magic thing that ever happened to me, though I always hoped something would. But maybe we can find them by regular means. What did they do when you ran out of the theater? Did they run after you?"
Martha looked startled. "Why!" she said. "I never even thought to look back!"
"They probably did," said the small gentleman. "They've probably been following you all the time. They're probably outside the shop right now, looking for you!"
"I'll go see," said Martha, starting for the door.
And it was at that exact moment that Mark, in the jewelry store down the street, made the wish that was to take him and Jane and Katharine to Martha's side. Immediately they were there.
"I did it!" said Martha. "I found them!"
"No, you didn't. Mark wished on the charm," said Katharine.
"I don't see why you all keep talking like that," said Jane. "There's no such thing as charms."
"Oh?" said the small gentleman. "That's not what your sister's been telling me."
"Who are you?" said Jane, rudely.
"Quiet," said Mark. "This is no time for mere bickering. We've got to fix up what we did. We've got to stop that awful panic. It's terrible—we were going to be so careful, and look what happened! You'd think that charm would have better sense!"
"There is no charm," said Jane.
"Stop saying that," said Mark. "Listen!"
The distant sound of fire sirens and police whistles and a cry of people could be heard.
"Now that you mention it," said the small gentleman, "I did think I noticed some slight disturbance, earlier."
"Slight," said Mark, "is not the word. Compared with the events of today, the Johnstown Flood will go down in history as a mere trifle!"
"I know it's my fault for wishing that wish," said Martha, "but I think it's everybody else's fault, too. Why did they all have to get so excited and start running?"
"One of the least admirable things about people," said the small gentleman, "is the way they are afraid of whatever they don't understand."
"And by now thousands are probably killed or homeless," went on Mark, drearily, "and burglars on every hand looting the deserted city! And Mother knows we're downtown!" he added, as a new thought struck him. "She'll be worried, and out looking for us!"
"If I may make a suggestion," said the small gentleman, "now if ever is a time for a really good wish."
"I'd be ashamed," said Jane. "Misleading these innocent children, pretending you believe in it!"
"Oh, what's the matter with her? Stop her, somebody!" said Katharine.
"Let me," said Martha. "I got us into this. I ought to get us out."
She tried to take the handbag from Mark. But of course the handbag just fell through her misty hand onto the floor. So then Mark held the bag, and Martha draped herself against it, in a clinging, clammy sort of way, like fog against a windowpane, as Katharine afterwards put it, and wished that Jane might be twice cured of whatever it was that ailed her. And right away Jane remembered about the charm.
The next wish was that their mother might find them safe and sound in four minutes' time.
"That gives me two minutes," said Martha, "to put myself back together in." For the third time she draped herself against the bag. "I wish," she began.
But there was an interruption.
Some people had appeared in the doorway of the shop. It was the man in the cap and the woman in the red blouse. Their pockets were bulging, probably with ill-gotten loot. The man looked round at the walls of bookshelves.
"Dis joint ain't no good, Mae," he said. "Dey ain't got nothin' but books."
"May I help you?" asked the small gentleman, stepping forward.
"How could you help me, if you ain't got nothin' but books?" said the man. Then he broke off, as he saw the four children. "Well, if it ain't de vanishin' marvels!" he said. "Kids, you got some disappearin' act! You carry it in dat bag?"
"What bag?" said Mark, putting the handbag behind him.
The man had seen Martha now.
"What's de matter wid her?" he said. "She get stuck half disappeared?" Then he smiled grimly. "O.K.," he said. "Tricks like dem I can use. Hand over de bag."
; "I won't," Mark started to say, bravely. But before he could say it, the man snatched the bag from his hands and turned to run.
For the second time that afternoon Mark made a wish in the very nick, in the words of Katharine. He dove at the man in a flying tackle, and as the two of them went down together, he touched the bag and wished that he might capture the thieves singlehanded.
Of course one-half as good as singlehanded is double-handed; so it took him both hands to do it.
But thirty seconds later, when the two minutes were up and the children's mother walked into the bookshop, a startling scene met her gaze.
A male and a female thief lay bound and gagged on the floor, while Mark stood over them victoriously, his hands dripping diamonds and rubies.
Watching him in admiration were Jane and Katharine and Martha, only Martha seemed to be completely transparent.
And perhaps oddest of all, there stood the rather small gentleman with the beard who had given her a lift on the night she visited Uncle Edwin and Aunt Grace and had the strange adventure.
The combination of all these surprises, after the worry she had had during the panic in the streets, proved too much for her. She stood swaying in the doorway for a moment, a prey to conflicting emotions. Then she tottered to a chair and collapsed. Like many another in that unfortunate city, during the half hour since Martha made her first wish, she had fainted.
The small gentleman bent over her and chafed her wrists.
"She'll be all right, won't she?" Martha asked, anxiously.
"I think so. I'm sure so," said the small gentleman.
"Good. To work, then," said Martha. And she draped herself against the handbag and wished that she might be twice as much there as she ever was.
"That's better," she said, a moment later, looking down at her old, solid self with satisfaction. Then she took the handbag firmly in her own substantial hand, and wished that the man in the cap and the woman in the red blouse might become twice as reformed in their characters as any two thieves had ever yet become.
Mark and Katharine unbound and ungagged the two thieves.