Hocus Pocus Hotel (2 page)

Charlie was shocked. “You —?” he said. “You need my help?”

“Don't make a big deal out of it,” growled Ty.

“But what do you want me to do?” asked Charlie. “And where are we, anyway?”

Ty pushed Charlie toward another door. He opened it, and then shoved the smaller boy into a large open space.

“Wow!” said Charlie.

They were standing at the side of a room as big as their school's gym. Tall marble pillars held up a distant ceiling of gold-painted shapes. A blood-red carpet covered the wide floor. Palm trees grew in giant pots, and enormous chairs and couches lurked in shadowy nooks and corners.

“It's just a hotel,” said Ty.

“Wow,” repeated Charlie. “It's not just a hotel. It's the Hocus Pocus Hotel. I've heard of this place.”

“First of all, that's not its name,” Ty said, his face darkening. “Secondly, it's where I live, okay? My mom's the hotel manager, and my dad's the chef. He's not a cook, he's a chef, got it?”

Charlie raised his hands. “I got it.”

“We live over there, way back behind the counter.” Ty pointed to a wide marble counter, where two guests were checking in. A girl with dark pigtails and glittery glasses was helping them.

Other than the five of them, the hotel lobby was empty, although Charlie thought he saw a few shadows moving among the massive pieces of furniture.

Then he saw the painting.

The man in the painting wore a skinny black tuxedo and held a top hat in his left hand. The man looked young, with thick black hair, dark eyes, and a thin black mustache that ended in two enormous spirals. Behind the man was a woman with golden hair, lying inside a box, being sawed in half.

The painting hung near the entrance of the hotel. It was the first thing visitors saw as they walked through the front doors.

“Who's that?” asked Charlie, stepping closer for a better look.

“That's the guy who built this place,” said Ty. “He's a magician. I mean, was a magician. Probably dead by now, I don't know. He disappeared or something. He built this place, like, a hundred years ago. He made it for other magicians to live in once they retired. But now other people stay here, too, like when they're on vacation or whatever.”

“Magicians, huh?” said Charlie. That explained the blue neon sign by the alley, with the top hat and the rabbit. “Why does it say Abracadabra under this guy's portrait?” he asked.

“That's his name,” Ty said. “The name of the hotel, too. The Abracadabra. Not the Hocus Pocus. Keep that straight.”

Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt the folded piece of notepaper in one of his pockets and remembered why he was standing there in the first place. “So, what do you want me to do?” he asked.

Ty frowned. He grabbed Charlie by his shirt and pulled him behind a pillar. They were hidden by palm branches and giant vases.

Ty made a fist again. “Don't tell anyone,” he ordered, “or this fist goes right through your face and out the other side.”

“Tell what?” asked Charlie. “About the Abracadabra guy?”

Ty shook his head in disgust. He reached around for the chain-wallet in his back pocket and opened it. He pulled out a folded piece of paper — a picture torn from a magazine — and held it up to Charlie's nose. “See this?” Ty said.

“Uh, it's a dirt bike,” said Charlie.

“Not just any dirt bike,” said Tyler. “It's a Tezuki Slamhammer 750, Edition 6, in cherry-pop lightning red. And it's mine. Almost. I got money saved up from working here at the hotel.”

Ty stood back and gazed at the picture. “I'm getting it as soon as school's out.” He paused. “But not if you can't fix this problem.”

“What problem?” said Charlie.

Ty carefully folded the paper and tucked it away. He stared hard at Charlie and said, “One of the magicians has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Charlie repeated.

“One of the old guys wasn't paying his bills,” said Ty. “He's been staying here for years, but all of a sudden he stopped paying his rent. He's one of the retired magicians. Mr. Madagascar.”

Ty looked around quickly, as if he were afraid someone might be listening. Then he motioned for Charlie to follow him past the potted palms and into an even darker corner.

They sat down behind a painted screen covered with dragons.

“I have a lot of jobs around here,” Ty explained. “One of them is to pick up their rent once a month. If someone's late, I go talk to them and see if they're having a problem.”

You probably scare them, too
, thought Charlie. Ty was tall and muscular, and not someone to mess with or lie to.

“So I was supposed to go up and talk to Mr. Madagascar a few days ago,” Ty went on. “But I didn't.”

“Why not?” Charlie asked.

“I was in the middle of an epic battle in Empire of Blood, okay?” Ty said.

That was the first thing Ty had said that really made sense to Charlie. Charlie spent a lot of time after school on his own favorite game, Sherlock Holmes Maximum Z, a detective mystery adventure. He understood how important it was to concentrate on a battle or investigation.

“I was slaughtering everyone,” Ty said with a grin. “No one could beat me. There was no way I was stopping. In a few hours I finished the battle, and when it was done, I forgot about Mr. M. I didn't remember until the next day at school. So I rushed home and ran up to Mr. M.'s room, but he was gone.”

“Maybe he'll come back,” said Charlie. “Maybe he went on a trip.”

“I don't think so,” said Ty. “Come on, I'll show you his apartment.”

Charlie followed Ty back into the main lobby. As they walked past the counter, the girl with the pigtails waved at Ty and said hello. Ty grumbled something and kept walking. The girl just smiled.

“Who's that?” asked Charlie.

Ty made a face. “Her name's Annie Solo. She works here in the afternoons,” he said.

They stopped in front of a row of three elevators. The doors looked like they were carved from gold. Above each elevator, a gold half-circle with a golden arrow indicated what floor the elevator was on.

A bell rang and the elevator doors on the far left slid open.

“Our luck,” said Ty. “It's Brack's elevator.”

The elevator was lined in faded red leather. To one side stood a thin, elderly man in a maroon and black uniform. He smiled a wrinkly smile at Ty and Charlie.

“Good afternoon, Master Yu,” the man said in a deep, clear voice. “A friend of yours?”

“This kid?” said Ty, nodding toward Charlie. “Nope. That's just Hitch.”

“Short for Hitchcock,” said Charlie. “Charlie Hitchcock is my name.”

“Ah, like the famous director, Alfred Hitchcock,” said the operator. “
Rear Window, Psycho, The Birds
. Among others, of course.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Tyler.

“Hitchcock directed some of the world's greatest films,” replied Brack. “He was the master of suspense.”

“Yeah?” Tyler said. “Well, this Hitchcock is just doing a report for school about the hotel. I was telling him about the magicians and stuff. You know, that kind of thing.”

The older man nodded slowly. “Ah, yes. One must beware the great Abracadabra Hotel,” he said. “There is magic in its walls.”

Ty chuckled. “Brack's always saying things like that.”

“It is true, Master Yu,” said the elevator operator. “Things happen here without explanation. Like the blackouts, for example.”

“Blackouts?” Charlie repeated nervously. The last thing he needed was to get stuck in an elevator with these two weirdoes if the electricity went out or something.

“It's nothing,” said Ty. “Just a little problem with the lights. They went out a few times last week. But they're fixed now.”

“Um, okay,” Charlie said.

“That's not the kind of magic I meant, Brack,” Ty said. “I mean, you know, the magical kind. Not the electrical kind.”

Brack nodded. “Of course,” he said. “But even the electrical kind seems more magical here.” He smiled. “Young Master Hitchcock, have no fear about your report. Master Yu will tell you. This hotel was built by magic,” he said. “Never trust what you see here. Or what you don't see. People may even seem to disappear from time to time … but remember, it's a big hotel.”

Charlie wondered if the old man was referring to Mr. Madagascar.

A strange look came over the operator's face. “Now you see him, now you don't,” he said, and pointed past them toward the lobby.

Ty and Charlie both turned to look, but the lobby was empty. When they turned around, the elevator was empty, too. Brack had vanished.

“That's impossible,” said Charlie.

“No, it's magic,” said Ty. “It's the hotel.”

The two boys stared at the elevator's interior. All Charlie saw was the faded red leather lining the walls.

The operator had vanished. But something about the walls didn't look right to Charlie.