41 - Bad Hare Day (3 page)

How could that happen? I wondered. I glanced into the secret compartment
again.

I’d left one side of the secret compartment open. How could I have been so
stupid?

“Tim—you promised!” Foz screamed. “Grab it!”

I chased after the rabbit. Foz huffed behind me. The rabbit had already
hopped halfway across our next-door neighbors’ backyard. I glanced back. Ginny
and the other kids were yelling and running after us.

The rabbit stopped behind a bush. I sped up—and pounced.

“Got him!” I cried. But the rabbit slipped out of my hands and bounded away.

“He’s headed for the stream!” Ginny shouted.

A muddy stream ran behind all the backyards on our block. The rabbit
disappeared behind the trees that hid the stream.

Whooping like crazy, Ginny led the kids after the rabbit.

“Stop!” I yelled. “You’re scaring it away!”

But none of them listened to me. There was nothing to do but keep chasing.

“Don’t let the rabbit hop into the water!” Foz screamed. “He’ll drown!”

“He won’t drown,” I told Foz. “That stream is only about two inches deep.”

“Just catch the rabbit!” Foz ordered. He was in a total panic. Maybe his
sister really
would
chop him into rabbit food.

The rabbit hopped through the mud and across the stream into the Darbys’
yard. I shoved the other kids aside. I splashed through the stream.

The rabbit stopped. Its ears twitched.

I motioned to the others to keep still. I squatted down and crept toward the
rabbit.

I saw why it had stopped. The Darbys’ cat, Boo Boo, crouched low in the
grass, waiting to pounce.

The rabbit was trapped between us. I crawled closer. Closer. I was almost
there….

“Watch out for the cat!” Foz shrieked.

With a yowl, the cat leaped. The rabbit bounced about a foot in the air. I
missed him.

Everybody raced after him again. I threw Foz a dirty look.

“You’re ruining everything!” I shouted.

“You’re
the one who lost him in the first place!” Foz yelled back.

“Hey!” Sue called. “Look at Ginny!”

Ginny had raced to the head of the pack. The rabbit paused, then started
running again. Ginny took a flying leap.
“Yaw, hee ha how!”
she screeched
in her weirdo karate voice.

She landed on her feet in front of the rabbit. It tried to change course. Too
late.

“Hiii—ya!” Ginny swooped down and grabbed the rabbit. She held him over her
head like a trophy.

“I got him!” she cried. “I got him!”

“Yay, Ginny!” Everyone crowded around her, slapping her on the back.

“Don’t let him go!” Foz cried. He hurried over to Ginny and snatched the
rabbit away.

We all started back to my yard. “Awesome trick, Tim.” Jesse patted me on the
back. “You almost made the rabbit really disappear!”

Everybody laughed. “You should change your stage name, Timothini,” Sue chimed
in. “How about ‘The Great Goofballini’?”

“Or ‘Mess-Up the Magnificent’!” Jesse suggested.

I sighed and shut my eyes. Another magic show—another disaster.

“I can’t believe you almost lost my sister’s rabbit,” Foz grumbled.

“I’m sorry, Foz. I’ll be more careful next time.”

He clutched the rabbit tightly to his chest. “Next time, get your own
rabbit.”

He hurried to the side of the house and stuffed the rabbit into the box.

“Anybody want to come over to my house?” Jesse called. He lived next door.
“I’ve got a great trick to show you—the disappearing dog. I let go of his
leash, and he runs away!”

Laughing, the other kids drifted over to Jesse’s house. Foz took the rabbit
home to his sister.

“You going over to Jesse’s?” Ginny asked.

I shook my head. “I’m going inside for a snack.”

“Maybe you should do your magic act inside from now on,” Ginny said. “Then
your tricks won’t be able to escape from you!” She giggled.

“Very funny,” I mumbled. “You won’t be laughing so hard when I turn
you
into a rabbit. I don’t think rabbits know how to laugh.”

“Ooh. I’m scared.” She rolled her eyes.

“You’d better be.” I leaned close to her and whispered. “Tonight’s the night.
Tonight, while you’re sleeping, I’ll turn you into a rabbit. And if you try to
run away, the Darbys’ cat will get you.”

She rolled her eyes again. Then she reached up to tweak my nose.
“Boi-oi-oing.”

She trotted off to Jesse’s house.

I definitely need better magic tricks, I thought as I dragged myself into the
house. Better equipment, too. So I can do really
cool
tricks. Tricks that
actually work.

I thought of all the stuff Mr. Malik sold in his shop. If I could have just
one of those tricks, I could do a great act. I’ve got to get one somehow.

But how?

That night everybody went to bed early. Mom and Dad were exhausted and crabby
after another bad day at work.

“Today was the worst day ever!” Mom grumbled. “I’m so exhausted. Everybody to
bed!”

Ginny and I knew better than to protest. We didn’t want to stay up, anyway,
with Mom and Dad grouching around all evening.

I lay in bed with the lights off, trying to sleep. Amaz-O’s show is tonight,
I thought miserably. He’s performing tonight, only a few miles away from my
house. I have free passes. And I can’t go. It’s not fair!

How am I ever going to be a great magician if I never see any magic shows?
Amaz-O is the greatest of the great—and I have to miss my one chance to see
him!

Or do I? A wicked thought popped into my head. Why
should
I miss the
show?

I’ve got the tickets. I can ride to Midnight Mansion on my bike. I could sneak out of the house for a couple of hours—and
Mom and Dad would never have to know.

I rolled over in bed and peered at my alarm clock. The dial glowed in the
dark. Nine-forty.

The show would start in twenty minutes, I knew. I could still make it if I
left right now.

I couldn’t stand to think about it any longer. I had to go.

I slid out of bed, hoping my mattress wouldn’t creak. I tiptoed across the
room to my dresser. I silently pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt.

Sneakers in hand, I carefully opened my bedroom door. The house was dark. I
heard Dad snoring in my parents’ room down the hall.

I crept toward the stairs. Am I really doing this? I thought, suddenly
nervous. Am I really sneaking out in the middle of the night to go to Midnight
Mansion?

Yes—I’m really doing it, I thought. I’ll do
anything
to see Amaz-O.
It’s totally worth the risk.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Mom and Dad could find out. Then what? Maybe they’d ground me. But I will
have seen the great Amaz-O in person. And while I’m grounded, I can try to learn
some of Amaz-O’s tricks.

Anyway, I won’t get caught. I won’t.

I paused at the top of the stairs. The stairs in my house are the creakiest
stairs in the universe.

Once when I was little, I tried to sneak downstairs on Christmas Eve to see
what Santa had left me. I barely touched the top step with my foot—
CRRREEEEAAAK!
Mom burst out of her room before I even had a chance to try
the second step.

It’s not going to happen this time, I told myself. I’ll take each step very
slowly. I’ll lean on the banister to keep them from creaking. No one will wake
up. No one will hear me.

I put both my hands on the banister and rested my weight on it. Then I set my
right foot carefully—the toe, then the heel—on the top step.

Crick.
Just a tiny little sound. I’m sure no one heard it, I thought.

I shifted my hands down the banister and took another step. This one made no
creak at all.

So far, so good.

I took the third step.
Creak.
Not a rip-roaring loud creak, but louder
than the first. I froze.

I listened for the sound of someone stirring in the house.

Silence. All clear.

If Amaz-O only knew what I’m going through to see him, I thought. I must be
his biggest fan on the face of the earth.

I made it all the way down the stairs with only one more creak. I breathed a
sigh of relief.

I’m safe now, I thought. I’ll wait until I get outside to put my shoes on.
Then I’ll grab my bike and go.

I tiptoed across the cold hallway floor. I reached for the handle of the
front door. Twisted it.

Almost there.

Almost.

Then a shrill voice demanded, “Tim—where do you think you’re going?”

I spun around. Ginny!

She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, all ready to go out. She bounded down
the stairs.

“Ssshhhhhhhh! You’ll wake up Mom and Dad!”

I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out the front door.

“What are you doing up?” I demanded.

“I was waiting for you to come into my room and turn me into a rabbit,” she
replied. “Or pretend to, anyway.”

“I’m not going to do that tonight,” I said. “Go back to bed.”

“What are
you
doing up? Where are you going?”

I sat on the front steps and pulled on my sneakers. “Out to the garage,” I
lied. “To practice a new trick.”

“You are not. I know where you’re going. To Midnight Mansion!”

I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Okay. You’re right. I’m going to Midnight Mansion. Don’t tell Mom and Dad—promise?”

“I want to go!” she insisted. “Let me go with you.”

“No. Go back to bed—and don’t tell. Or you’ll be sorry.”

“You
have
to take me!” she declared. “If you don’t, I’ll run upstairs
and tell Mom and Dad right now. Then you’ll never get to see Amaz-O.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

I knew she would.

“All right,” I agreed. “You can come. But you have to be good and do
everything I tell you to do.”

“Maybe I will—and maybe I won’t.”

I sighed. I had to take her, no matter how bratty she was. If I did, she’d
never tell—because then she’d be in as much trouble as me.

“Let’s go,” I whispered.

We sneaked into the garage and got our bikes. Then we pedaled off into the
night.

It felt strange riding down Bank Street late at night. The shops were all
closed and dark. Hardly any traffic on the street.

Oh, no. A police car up ahead—cruising toward us down Bank Street. If he
spotted us, he’d stop us for sure. And then he’d take us home. And then we’d
really
be in trouble.

I searched desperately for a place to hide. The police couldn’t miss us—Bank Street was lined with streetlights.

“Ginny!” I called. “Quick—out of the light!” I swerved into the dark
doorway of a dress shop. Ginny followed. We leaped off our bikes and pressed
ourselves into the shadows.

The police car glided past. I held my breath as the headlights brushed across
us. The car stopped.

“He saw us!” Ginny whispered. “Run!”

I grabbed her arm to stop her. “Wait.” I peeked out into the street.

The police car was idling, but the driver stayed inside.

“It’s a red light,” I told Ginny. A few seconds later the light turned green,
and the police car rolled away.

“We’re safe now,” I said. We hopped back onto our bikes and rode off.

Midnight Mansion loomed huge and dark at the edge of town. People said that a
crazy old woman had lived alone in the mansion for forty years. She was rich,
but so stingy she wore ragged old clothes and ate nothing but peanut butter,
right out of the jar.

When people tried to visit her, she screamed, “Go away!” and threw rocks at
them. She had about fifty cats. When she died, a businessman bought the mansion and turned it into a nightclub.

I braked in front of the old house and stared at it. Midnight Mansion.

It looked like a spooky old castle made of sooty black stone. Three stories
tall, with two towers shooting up into the night sky. Vines crept across the
roof. A floodlight threw creepy shadows over the house.

I’d seen the mansion a million times before. But late at night it looked
bigger and darker than usual. I thought I saw bats fluttering around the two
towers.

“No wonder the old lady went crazy,” Ginny whispered. “Living in a spooky
place like that.”

“Do you think she kept prisoners in those towers?” I wondered.

“I think she had a torture chamber in the basement,” Ginny said.

We walked our bikes up to the entrance. People hurried inside to see Amaz-O’s
magic show. Three men in long black capes breezed past us. A woman with long
black hair, black lipstick, and pointy black fingernails smiled at me.

“Where did all these weird people come from?” Ginny asked.

I shrugged. “Let’s go in. The show is about to start.”

We locked our bikes and ran up the long stone steps. We entered a big hall
lit by a crystal chandelier. We crossed the hall to a doorway covered by a heavy red curtain.

A tall, thin man in a black tuxedo guarded the curtain. He reached out a
long, bony finger to stop us.

He had no hair, a pencil neck, and dark, hollow eye sockets. “He looks like a
skeleton,” Ginny whispered to me.

I pulled the two tickets out of my back pocket and handed them to him.

“Very good,” he croaked in a low voice. “But where are your parents? I can’t
seat children without their parents.”

My parents? Think fast, Swanz-O, I told myself. “Um—my parents. Yes. Well,
my parents, you see…” I had a feeling he didn’t want to hear that my parents
were home sleeping.

“They’re outside, parking the car,” I lied. “They’ll be here in a minute.
They told us to come in and get a table.”

The man’s hollow black eyes seemed to burn a hole in my brain. Would he buy
it?

“I don’t like it. But all right.” He led us through the red curtain. The
houselights went down just as we walked in. He showed us to a table right next
to the stage.