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BOOK: Snyder, Zilpha Keatley
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If, April decided, the Egypt gang all stayed together, there might be a chance to slip away from the big group to pay a visit to Egypt. Their flashlights and jack-o-lanterns would be enough to light up the storage yard at least a little, and it would be really terrific-a nighttime ceremony in the spooky half-light, and with everybody wearing their new

Egyptian costumes. They would only stay for a few minutes, and they’d get back to the Trick-or-Treaters before they were missed.

When April first told Melanie about her plan, Mclanie though it was just about the most exciting idea she’d ever heard. She agreed to everything, oven to not telling Elizabeth until Halloween night so she wouldn’t have too long to worry about it. Elizabeth had a tendency to worry about things like not having permission. She might not understand that it was not at all like being downright disobedient. As April pointed out, no one had forbidden them to visit Egypt on Ilallowccn night. Melanie did just mention that maybe that was because nobody knew about Egypt; but April just grinned and said, “Yeah, I know. Lucky, isn’t it.”

Later, when Melanie began to think about it in private, she began to have some doubts. Even though the Egypt gang had decided that the Professor was innocent, what if they just might be wrong? Or what if the Professor was innocent, but the somebody else who wasn’t really did live right in the neighborhood, as so many people seemed to think. In that case a trip to Egypt might be a lot worse than downright disobedient. It might be deadly dangerous. Downright disobedient and deadly dangerous. The two phrases seemed to get stuck in Melanie’s head. The night before Halloween she woke up several times with

those four words throbbing through her thoughts. By morning she’d decided to tell April that she’d changed her mind.

But the next day Melanie had an early morning piano lesson, so there was no time to talk to April before school. And at school there were always too many people around. Even though Melanie tried all day to find an opportunity, she still hadn’t told April about her decision when the time came to get into their costumes.

April had been keeping all the costumes in a box in her closet, and it had been decided that they would all get ready at her place. On the way up Melanie and Marshall met Elizabeth in the hall. Melanie had been almost hoping that Elizabeth would have her two sisters along. That would have put an end to the Egypt question without her having to say anything. But no such luck. Elizabeth explained that her little sisters were staying home because they were afraid of the dark and of all the big kids in their costumes.

When they reached April’s apartment, Mrs. Hall met them at the door. “Come in, come in,” she said. “April’s all dressed already. She’s in her room.”

April looked great. She was wearing her Egyptian headdress and under her sheer jeweled robe she had on the short tunic made of a pillowcase. Around the bottom of the pillowcase there were Egyptian looking decorations done in red and black crayon. But best of all were her face and hair. For once her false eyelashes were on straight, and she had heavy black eye make-up that made her eyes look long and mysterious. But most surprising was her hair-it was cut short in a sort of Cleopatra bob.

“Caroline helped me with my face and hair,” April said, and she looked at Caroline and smiled. It occurred to Melanie that it was the first time she’d ever seen April smile at her grandmother. It also occurred to her that April wasn’t going to be able to wear an upsweep any more, but she didn’t say anything about that.

Instead, she only said, “Your hair looks terrific, April. You ought to wear it that way all the time.”

Mrs. Hall reminded them that they better hurry so they wouldn’t keep the other Trick-or-Treaters waiting and then she went out and left them alone. April shut the door of her room behind her grandmother and then she turned around very slowly and dramatically to face the rest of the Egypt gang. One look at her face and Melanie had a strong feeling that downright disobedient and even deadly dangerous weren’t going to be enough. She felt herself slipping before she was even sure of the direction in which they were moving.

April put her arms down stiffly along her sides and with her eyes closed she tilted her Egyptian face upward raptly. To Melanie she looked like a miniature monolith, glowing with mystery. “We have received a message,” April whispered with her eyes still closed. “We are summoned by the mighty ones, the mighty ones of Egypt”

“The mighty ones?” Elizabeth’s voice quavered a little.

April snapped back into life and snatched up something from her dresser. It was a little velvet pincushion box that she kept special things on. “It’s in here,” she said, holding the box out dramatically until they had all gathered around.

“The summons from Set and Isis,” Melanie said. It was a statement instead of a question; and with a last lingering dismay she realized that she was already using her high priestess voice. April nodded and her eyes flicked across Melanie’s in the way they always did when their imaginations were tuned in. The gods of Egypt struggled with the gods of conscience, and Egypt won. “The mighty ones have summoned us,” Melanie chanted and dropped to her knees.

Following Melanie’s lead, April was on her knees almost as quickly and Elizabeth and Marshall weren’t far behind. Slowly and with drama April opened the box. There, on a cushion of paper handkerchiefs was a single shiny feather. “Just a few minutes ago/’ April whispered, “I heard something-a strange sound -outside my window. I’d been expecting something.

I’d had a weird feeling all day long. Hadn’t you?” They all nodded and Melanie didn’t even remember what kind of feelings she’d really been having all day. “So I ran to the window and threw it open and there it was-right on the sill. A token-from the mighty ones.”

“Evil Set and Beautiful Isis have sent us a token,” Melanie chanted. She nudged Elizabeth with her elbow and whispered, “You say, ‘The mighty ones have summoned us to their temple.’ “

“The mighty ones have summoned us to their temple,” Elizabeth imitated Melanie’s singing chant.

April poked Marshall, “You say, ‘We have received your summons, O mighty ones.’ “

“We have received your summons, O mighty ones,” Marshall chanted and then ad-libbed, “and it’s nothing but an old pigeon feather.” He scanned the girls’ faces expectantly, but they chose to ignore him.

While they were getting into their costumes, Elizabeth asked a few worried questions about what they were going to do, but April only said, “I don’t know. We’ll have to stick close together and look for a sign.”

“What sort of a sign?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“A secret omen,” Melanie said.

“Will it be a pigeon feather?” Marshall asked.

“We don’t know what it will be,” April told him.

“But we will know it when it appears.” She clasped her hands and struck a wonder-and-amazement pose. “The very air will smell of mystery,” she breathed.

Marshall sniffed thoughtfully as April got him into his crown and robe and tried to make his baby-round eyes look long and mysterious with the eyebrow pencil. She was more successful with Elizabeth’s and Melanie’s eyes. They both had beautiful eyes anyway-Elizabeth’s were exotic, long and tilted, and Melanie’s were luxurious, velvet and ivory, fringed with black silk. With the Egyptian make-up they both looked fantastic.

By the time they had gotten Elizabeth’s pony-tail tucked inside her Nefertiti headdress it was almost 7:00. They started to rush out, but in the hallway they noticed that Marshall wasn’t with them. They dashed back and found him in the closet with April’s pin-box. He was calm as they grabbed him out of the closet, snatched away the pin-box and scolded him across the living room to the hall door. “I was just smelling the mystery, like April said,” he was explaining patiently, when suddenly he grabbed hold of the door frame and howled, “STOP!” The result was a four-way collision of Egyptians in the doorway. Marshall kept on yelling, “Stop!” and Elizabeth yelled “Ouch!” because somebody stepped on her, and April yelled, “What the —!”

But Melanie knew right away what the matter was. She ran back into the bedroom and got Security from where he’d been left on April’s bed, and at last the Egyptians were on their way.

The Return to Egypt

THE TRICK-OR-TREAT GROUP WAS A MILLING MOB of devils, witches, tramps and monsters. Mr. Barkley, who always acted as if being the father of six-year-old twin boys was almost more than he could stand, looked positively exhausted; and even Mr. Kamata’s sturdy real-estate-salesman’s smile was beginning to wilt. Outside the Casa Rosada a black cat, a mechanical man, a little red-riding-hood, two tramps and four ancient Egyptians joined the already unwieldy group. They had started off up Orchard Avenue in a sprawly column when Marshall suddenly stopped and tugged at Melanie’s arm. “I want a sign,” he said loudly. Several of the surrounding Trick-or-Treaters turned to look at him, and the other three Egyptians stared in astonishment. Marshall had never blabbed about secrets before.

“Shhh!” April hissed. “Not yet! I’ll tell you when.” “Shhh, Marshall. It’s a secret,” Elizabeth whispered covering his mouth with her hand.

“What’s the matter with you?” Melanie asked in astonishment.

Marshall pushed Elizabeth’s hand away. “Not a secret sign,” he said. “A sign to carry.”

All of a sudden Melanie laughed. “Oh,” she said, “I guess he thinks we’re a demonstration-like at the university. He’s never been Trick-or-Treating because he was too young last year. But he knows about demonstrations.”

The Return to Egypt

Everybody laughed, except Marshall. “We’re not a demonstration, Marshall,” Melanie explained, tugging at him to get him moving again. “We’re Trick-or-Treating. Trick-or-Treating is for candy and demonstrations are for things like Peace and Freedom. It’s different.”

Marshall relaxed and allowed himself to be pulled down the street, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m a demonstration,” he said firmly.

When the crowd turned up Elm Street where there were more good houses to visit, the Egyptians began to drop to the rear of the group where it would

miii.-“-*–—”- –-

be easier to get away. That meant they were the last ones up to each home, and sometimes most of the good stuff was already taken; but they hardly noticed. They were too busy looking for an omen.

At the last house before they turned off Elm Street, the Egypt gang started up the front walk and collided with two other Trick-or-Treaters who also seemed to be hanging behind the main group-a monster and a walking pile of boxes. “Hey,” the monster said, “it’s Ross and February. What are you supposed to be?”

The rubber monster mask completely covered the speaker’s head, but the voice was familiar; and besides, the sixth grade boys were the only ones who called April, February. Then the walking boxes said, “Hey man! It’s a whole herd of Egyptians.” He poked Marshall in the stomach and said, “Hi there, King Tut.”

“Okay, Mr. Wise-Guy Alvillar,” Melanie said. “I know who you are.” She turned to April with an exasperated shrug. “It’s Kamata and Alvillar.”

Ken Kamata and Toby Alvillar were just about the most disgusting boys in the sixth grade, in a fascinating sort of way. They were best friends and always together, and everybody always voted for them for everything and wanted to be on their team. But not April and Melanie. April and Melanie always told each other that Ken and Toby were just ordinary

(ugh) boys, and it was stupid the way everybody treated them so special. April and Melanie just couldn’t figure out what people saw in them.

Of course, Toby had a special talent for getting people off the hook by making the teacher laugh. Just when Mrs. Granger was really building up a head of steam over something, Toby would make some little remark and Mrs. Granger would start choking and have to turn her back. Sometimes she’d try to pick things up where she left off, but all that lost momentum made a big difference.

Ken was sort of cute in a big blunt cocky way. He had a clean-cut all-American-oriental look about him, and he walked with a high-school swagger. Toby was thinner, with big ears that stuck out of his shaggy hair and enormous brown eyes that were always up to something, like a pair of T.V. screens turned on full blast. But right now you couldn’t see what either one of them really looked like at all.

Ken had a man’s old overcoat on over a pillow-padded hunchback, and (wouldn’t you know it) rubber monster hands and feet, too, as well as the mask. Ken’s father sold a lot of real estate and he could afford expensive stuff like that. Toby was the box man. He had a small box over his head, with a Saran-wrap covered opening shaped like a T.V. screen to look out through. The rest of him was covered with all sorts of other boxes all strung together and painted

black and covered with pasted-on ads out of papers and magazines. There were Alka-Seltzer and Pepto-Bismol ads pasted on his stomach box, aspirin ads on his head box, and even Right Guard ad under his left arm.

“Boy! Are you two in character,” April said. “A monster and a pile of junk.”

“I’ll have you know that I represent the New American,” Toby said haughtily. Then he grinned. “It was my dad’s idea. He says it’s a new art form he just invented.”

Toby’s dad was a graduate student at the university. He was also a sculptor who made statues out of all kinds of junk.

“An art form!” April said. “Well, all I can say

9t

IS-

“Don’t,” Toby interrupted. “You’d just show off your ignorance.”

“Come on, Tobe,” Ken said. “We’re getting left behind.”

“Yeah, you little kids ought to keep up with the group better,” Toby said, as he started off up the sidewalk. “You’re liable to get hurt.”

“Little kids!” Melanie yelled after him. “Look who’s talking!”

Marshall ran after Toby and gave him a shove on the rear of his biggest box. “We’re not little kids,” he said. “We’re Egyptians.”

Toby swiveled his T.V. head around and surveyed the damage. “Hey, watch it!” he said. “You just bent my Jockey shorts ad.”

April and Melanie didn’t believe in encouraging Toby by laughing at him, but that was too much. By the time the Egyptians got over their convulsions of giggles, Ken and Toby had disappeared around the corner, and the lady whose walk they were on was calling to ask if they wanted some candy or not.

BOOK: Snyder, Zilpha Keatley
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