Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
S tella hadn’t been back to her high school in nearly a decade, but it still smelled the same, like pizza, gym shoes, and a cloud of cologne.
Several kids hurried past as she, Ethan, and Catherine headed down the school’s main hallway. Up ahead, a poster listing the homecoming festivities featured a drawing of the school’s mascot: a witch with a pointy hat and fangs.
“Nothing like embracing the town’s history,” Ethan said, remarking on the illustration.
“Cute, isn’t it?” Stella replied dryly. She’d never liked the witch’s snarling face, but she guessed, when the school’s athletic teams were facing falcons and panthers, it was best to show a few teeth.
Ethan jogged ahead and held the auditorium door open for her and his mother.
They followed the crowd into the auditorium. Once Stella’s eyes adjusted to the dark cavernous room, she realized that nearly all of the two hundred seats had been claimed.
“Ah!” She pointed to the row that was third from the back. “There are a few seats in the middle of that row.”
They slid past the people who’d already claimed the coveted aisle seats, and several of the girls looked up at Ethan with wide enamored eyes.
Stella opened her program as soon as she sat. Unable to read in the dark, she was about to snap-up a fingertip flame. Fortunately, she remembered herself in the nick of time and opened the flashlight app on her phone instead.
“This is amazing,” Ethan whispered.
Stella looked up at him, then glanced around the audience. She didn’t see anything amazing. “What is?”
“ High school . Can’t you feel the energy?”
What Stella felt was her stomach turning. High school had not been her best years. Ethan on the other hand… She looked up at him again. Oh, yeah. She could totally see it. She bet he ruled his school.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Big man on campus?”
Ethan looked embarrassed, and he barely spared her a glance. “I might have been captain of the football team.”
“Figures,” she muttered.
Ethan took a breath and added, “And maybe student council president.”
“Oh my god.”
“What?” he asked, sounding affronted. “You weren’t captain of the Young Entrepreneurs Club?”
“Let me put it this way,” Stella said, “if I had the choice of going back to high school for a day or facing another zombie…”
“You do have a choice,” Ethan said. “You could do like Jun and pop back for a visit.”
“No, thanks.”
“Come on,” he teased. “You wore that red dress to prom, didn’t you? You had to have guys crawling all over you.”
“I went with Izzy and another girlfriend to prom, and the principal took one look at me in that dress and sent me home. It wasn’t a great evening, and I can promise you, no one missed me.”
“Bastard,” Ethan muttered.
“The principal?” she asked. “Yeah. He still works here.”
Stella searched the faces of the few staff members lined up against the wall. She found the principal standing near the front. “There.”
“ Hmmm ,” Ethan said. “Maybe I should go introduce myself. Tell him what I think about him censoring a young lady’s wardrobe.”
“Please, don’t.”
The curtain rose, and everyone went quiet. That is, everyone except Ethan, who whispered, “When’s Magnus up?”
“Last one before intermission,” Stella whispered back.
“How many acts?” he asked.
Catherine leaned forward so she could look past Stella and scowl at her son. “Seven in each half. Now, be quiet, you two.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan said, chuckling to himself. He sat back against his seat and folded his arms.
The emcee walked out into the spotlight, and the show began.
It started with a barbershop quartet made up of boys whose voices had recently changed. Then there was an Irish dancer, followed by a boy who pounded out a ragtime medley on a grand piano.
“He was pretty good,” Stella said, and she hoped Magnus would be able to compete.
Her hopes for him grew after the comic-relief act of five boys pantomiming a synchronized swim routine.
Next up was a Double Dutch team that had won the regional championship. They were followed by a mediocre juggler. Then, it was Magnus.
Stella scooted forward to the edge of her seat. She hoped he was doing okay as he waited in the wings because her own stomach was doing somersaults.
“Here we go, here we go, here we go,” she murmured.
“Relax, Red,” Ethan said. “He’ll do great.”
“I know he will. I’m worried about the crowd response.”
“Are you kidding? These people just went nuts for a guy who juggled rubber ducks. Don’t forget. Magnus once bested Antoinette and Lovey DuPre.”
“I don’t think he’s going to get away with setting off a smoke bomb in the auditorium.”
“Here he comes,” Catherine whispered, and she clutched Stella’s arm.
Stella looked down at Catherine’s hand, took some comfort in not being the only one with vicarious performance jitters, then focused on the stage.
Magnus the Magnificent entered from the wings, dressed in his black satin cape over a starched white shirt and black pants. He wheeled out a squeaky table draped in a black table cloth. A deck of cards, a pitcher of water, a newspaper, and a pile of colorful scarves lay on the table.
“Woooooot!” Catherine shouted, clapping loudly, which surprised the hell out of Stella.
The girl sitting in front of Catherine turned around to look at her, then whispered to her friend.
Magnus’s cheeks were already turning pink; Stella could tell, even from a distance.
“Come on, Mags,” she whispered, and she spun her mother’s gold bracelet nervously around and around her wrist. “You’ve got this.”
“I…” Magnus cleared his throat. “…am Magnus the Magnificent.”
“Try Magnus the Mess,” some guy shouted from the crowd.
Stella whipped her head in the direction of the voice, but she couldn’t tell who was heckling Magnus.
“For my first trick…I’ll need a volunteer from the audience.”
Someone’s hand shot up in the air.
“Thank you,” Magnus said, sounding relieved. “Come on up.”
A teenage boy wearing a letterman’s jacket jumped out of his seat in the front row and jogged up the steps that led to the corner of the stage. He did this to applause, and he held up his hands in victory.
He stopped beside Magnus’s table.
Magnus cleared his throat again. “So, this is a brand new deck of cards. I’m going to have you pick a card, show it to the audience, then stick it back into the deck. Okay?”
The kid leaned in toward the microphone clipped to Magnus’s collar. “Sounds awesome.”
“So, pick any card you want.” Magnus fanned the cards out on the table. “However you want to do it.”
The kid selected a card and took a peek.
“Okay,” Magnus said. “I’m diverting my eyes, so make sure you get a good look at the card, then show it to the audience.”
The kid flashed the four of diamonds at the crowd.
Some “ooohs,” slid through the crowd, followed by laughter.
“You got it?” Magnus asked. “Okay. So, put it back into the deck wherever you decide. It’s completely up to you.”
The kid put the card back in the deck, then smirked at the audience.
“I don’t like this,” Stella said as worry churned in her gut.
“It’s fine,” Ethan said reassuringly. “He’s doing great.”
Magnus picked up the deck and shuffled it before holding the deck out toward the kid. “Can you, please, cut the deck?”
“Sure,” the kid said, but when he reached for the deck, he knocked it out of Magnus’s hands and all fifty-two cards went fluttering to the stage. “ Oops .”
“Oh!” Magnus cried. “Um… Oh…”
“I knew it,” Stella whispered. Poor Magnus. Clearly his trick was unsalvageable. There was no way he was going to be able to figure out what card it was now.
“Sorry,” the kid said unconvincingly. “Maybe you should move on to your next trick?”
“Uh…yeah,” Magnus said. “Moving on.”
The kid jogged back to his seat, wearing a huge grin.
Stella’s gaze slid to the principal, who looked annoyed but unmotivated to step in. Typical.
“For my next trick, observe this pitcher of water.” Magnus dribbled water onto the stage floor where it splatted into a small puddle.
“I will now roll this newspaper into a cone and pour water into it.”
He did so, emptying the entire pitcher. No water dribbled out. He set the pitcher back on the table, then unrolled the paper. All the water had disappeared.
Magnus grinned at the audience, and while there was some applause—Stella, Ethan, and Catherine making the most noise—there wasn’t as much enthusiasm for the trick as there’d been for even the juggler.
“Okay,” Magnus said, his voice tight. He crumpled the paper up into a ball and tossed it onto the floor. “For my next trick, I’ll need another volunteer.”
This time no one yelled anything. No one raised their hand or stood up either.
“What do you think?” Ethan asked. “Should I go up there?”
Stella put her hand behind his shoulder and pushed him up out of his seat. “Yes. Go! Go!”
“I volunteer!” Ethan announced, and two hundred bodies swiveled in their seats toward the back of the auditorium.
Magnus made a visor with his hand and peered into the darkened audience. “Uh…great. Come on up, sir.”
Ethan side-stepped out of the row, and Stella saw the moment when Magnus recognized who was coming down the aisle. His shoulders relaxed, and he almost smiled.
Ethan reached the stage and faced the audience with the comfort of a former gubernatorial candidate.
“What’s your name, sir?” Magnus asked, playing dumb.
Ethan leaned down toward Magnus’s clip-on microphone. “Ethan Mather.”
A few whispers slid around the audience, apparently there was still some name recognition left over from Ethan’s campaign, even among high-schoolers.
“Mr. Mather,” Magnus said with a renewed brightness in his voice, “how would you like to be sawed in half tonight?”
“Not much,” Ethan said with a broad grin. “I just had this shirt dry cleaned.”
Laughter from the audience.
“What’s he doing?” Stella asked Catherine. She assumed Ethan would be helping, not giving Magnus more of a hard time.
“No idea,” Catherine whispered back.
“Oh,” Magnus said, also sounding a little stumped. “Um…”
“Sawing in half is an old trick,” Ethan said. “Aren’t you Magnus the Magnificent?”
“I…uh… yes? ” Magnus asked.
Ethan leaned in and whispered something in Magnus’s ear.
Whatever he said made Magnus’s face brighten a little, and he started again. “Mr. Mather, how would you like to levitate off this stage tonight? That will keep your shirt nice and clean.”
Ethan scoffed. “You could try. But you’d have to be pretty strong to get me off the ground.”
More laughter from the audience while Ethan surreptitiously stepped into the puddle of water Magnus’s last trick had left on the floor.
“You’re right about that,” Magnus said. “Prepare to be amazed.”
Magnus waved his arms in a dramatic gesture, then gave his cape a big swirl.
“Hey!” Ethan looked down at his feet, but the surprised look on his face was all an act.
Stella was immediately aware of the wet-earth scent of physical magic overtaking the auditorium.
Ethan gave a very subtle twist of his wrists, and the puddle under his feet widened. “What the?—?!”
Magnus crouched low and stretched his arms out toward Ethan’s feet. “Rise!”
The puddle deepened and solidified, lifting Ethan two inches off the ground.
Ethan pretended to wobble and exclaimed, “Enough!”
Stella slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing while the crowd sucked in a collective breath.
“Rise!” Magnus commanded, this time a little louder.
“I said, that’s enough!” Ethan shouted, putting on an Oscar-winning performance. “Put me down!”
“RISE!” Magnus wiggled his fingers.
“How high can he go?” Catherine whispered near Stella’s ear. By then, Ethan was nearly a foot off the ground.
“Ok!” Ethan cried, sounding nervous. “I’m convinced. You’re a real magician.”
“He’s not a magician!” someone in the audience cried out. “Moseby’s a freakin’ witch! Like, a real one.”
“Oh, no,” Stella murmured. Accusations of witchcraft didn’t have a great track record in Salem, regardless of the school mascot.
But everyone in the crowd surprised her by jumping up and applauding.
Ethan dropped to the floor, and the water made a huge splash. It cascaded off the edge of the stage, probably soaking the feet of everyone in the front row.
Magnus took a deep bow, and the lights went out on the stage.
The sound of a squeaky table rolling back to the wings cut through the excited chatter.
A few moments later, the house lights flipped on, and Ethan stood at the end of their row again. “It’s intermission,” he said. “Seen enough?”
“Where’s Magnus now?” Stella asked.
“Greeting a few of his admirers back stage,” Ethan said proudly. “He’ll be busy for a while. He said, ‘thanks for coming.’”
“Well, then I guess we can go.” Stella and Catherine exited their row.
When they got outside and into the sunlight, Catherine walked ahead as Stella glanced back at the auditorium doors.
“Was Magnus mad that he didn’t get to show off the rest of his tricks?” She nervously twisted her mother’s gold bracelet around her wrist, just as she’d been doing throughout the show. “He’d worked so hard on them.”
“No,” Ethan said. “He’s good. And he’ll have plenty more shows after tonight.”
The bracelet slipped past the heel of Stella’s hand and clattered to the sidewalk.
Catherine glanced back, then stopped. “You dropped the key.”
“No, Mom,” Ethan said, bending down. “That was Stella’s bracelet.”
He retrieved the bracelet and handed it back to Stella.
Catherine frowned at the bracelet, as if she thought he were lying and this was all another trick.
“Seriously, Mom. It was just her bracelet. I have my keys right here.” Ethan pulled them out of his pocket and gave them a jingle.
Still, Catherine furrowed her brow as if he was speaking a foreign language.
Getting nowhere with that, Ethan let out a heavy sigh. “You two wait here. I’ll pull the car around. It’s time we get back and summon a ghost.”
Stella bit down on her lip, but she gave him a nod. There was no more room for delay.