If You’re Reading This, It’s Too Late (28 page)

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Authors: Pseudonymous Bosch

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BOOK: If You’re Reading This, It’s Too Late
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Let me repeat that. Because she was very emphatic about it.

Cass was in the audience.

As in —
not onstage.

As in — she wouldn’t be in a talent show if her life depended on it.

As in — yeah, sure, she, Cassandra, was a dedicated survivalist and she was ready to face all the disasters in the world, natural
or
supernatural, but she would never, as in
not ever,
face — her — peers — from — up — there!

Their school’s annual talent show had recently been renamed
The Talents Show
because, as Mrs. Johnson had explained, people had many kinds of talents (“That’s
talents
with an
s,
children — plural!”) and no one talent was superior to any other.

The students, of course, knew better. They knew that some talents were
always
superior to others — the talents that happened, coincidentally, to belong to the most popular students — and to show their disdain for the talent show’s new name, they mockingly called it the “Talents With an
S
Show.”

Cass had been a little disappointed that Yo-Yoji was refusing to perform in the talent show; if anybody had the power to shake up the school hierarchy with a little guitar playing he did. But her disappointment about Yo-Yoji
not
performing couldn’t match the anxiety she felt about the fact that Max-Ernest
was
performing.

After a ten-year-old boy named Lucas delivered a surprisingly strong rendition of Tom Jones’s swinging song “It’s Not Unusual,” Mrs. Johnson called Max-Ernest’s name.

Twice.

When nobody appeared on stage, Cass, sitting discreetly near the back of the auditorium, was almost relieved. Maybe he was backing out after all.

“Max-Ernest, if you don’t come out now, you’re going to lose your turn!” Mrs. Johnson bellowed as only a principal can.

“But I can’t get my hat to stay on!”

Suddenly, as if someone had pulled him out of the wings with a cane, Max-Ernest stumbled onto the stage, holding a top hat on his head with one hand, and holding a wand with the other. He wore a magician’s cape that was about five sizes too big for him.

“Hi. I’m . . . I’m Max-Ernest,” he stammered. “Most of you know me already because you go to school with me. But some of you are parents, so you don’t go to school — well, that’s not exactly true, but — Anyway, um, like I was saying, I’m Max- Ernest, but today I am
Max-Ernest the Magnificent
and I’m going to do a
magi-comedy
act — that’s comedy, plus magic —”

“Get on with it, Max-Ernest — and use the microphone!” said Mrs. Johnson, not very gently.

Cass groaned: it was even worse than she’d feared.

“OK. OK. I was just about to tell a joke. Here it is — Knock, knock! Now somebody say
— ‘Who’s there?’

“Who’s there?” shouted a man in the corner.

“Who’s there?” shouted a woman in the opposite corner.

“I am! Get it?” Max-Ernest looked out at the audience expectantly.

“Ha-ha!
I am
— I get it!” shouted the man.


I am
— that’s really funny!” shouted the woman.

Cass didn’t have to look to know who they were: Max-Ernest’s parents.

Nobody else laughed.

Just then, Yo-Yoji ran onto the stage from the wings, his guitar around his neck. “Say
I am
again!”

“Um,
I am,
” said Max-Ernest, surprised.

Yo-Yoji plucked his guitar, making that sound you hear on television after somebody makes a joke:
wah wahhh.

This time, everybody laughed.

Slunk down in her seat, Cass smiled gratefully. Thank you, Yo-Yoji.

“OK, now for some magic,” said Max-Ernest, gaining confidence. “I need somebody who’s really beautiful and
really really
nice to volunteer. Amber?”

Everybody craned their necks to look at Amber, sitting in the front row. She looked at Max-Ernest, startled.

Next to her, Veronica applauded loudly. “Go, Amber!”

She stood up, feigning modesty. “Well, I don’t know, but if he really wants me to . . .”

As Amber stepped onto the stage, swinging her hair, Max-Ernest gestured behind him where the
Gateway to the Invisible
stood in a spotlight, on loan from the Magic Museum.

“Look at this booth here — looks totally normal, right, Amber?”

“Right, Max-Ernest,” she said, smiling at the audience to show she was taking this very seriously.

“But actually, it’s the door to another dimension — the
Invisible
!” said Max-Ernest dramatically. Or almost dramatically. “OK, now close the curtain behind me after I step inside —”

She did.

“Knock, knock,” he said loudly from inside.

“Who’s there?” replied Amber, playing along.

“Nobody!” declared Max-Ernest. “Now open the curtain.”

As Amber opened the curtain, Yo-Yoji played some spooky, build-up-the-tension-type guitar chords.

The booth was empty.

The audience gasped. Then burst into applause.

Not bad, Cass thought. Maybe he won’t be such a disaster after all.

“Now, close the curtain,” said the voice of the missing Max-Ernest.

As soon as Amber had closed the curtain, Max-Ernest pulled it open again and stepped out.

He smiled. “How ’bout that?”

More applause. Victorious guitar chords.

“Now, how would
you
like to disappear, Amber?”

She smiled nervously. “Uh. OK, I guess.”

Max-Ernest held up his bandanna. “First, you have to put on this blindfold. Looking straight at the Invisible can be very scary and disorienting for somebody who’s never experienced it before. Whatever you do, don’t take the bandanna off!”

Obviously reluctant, but afraid to show it, Amber allowed him to tie the bandanna around her eyes and escort her into the booth.

But when the curtain closed behind her, the audience heard Amber cry in protest, “Hey — what’s happening?! Help —!”

“Relax, Amber — you are now invisible!”

While Yo-Yoji strummed his guitar repeatedly — almost like a drumbeat — Max-Ernest opened the curtain with a flourish. She was gone.

“How ’bout
that
?”

More victory music. More applause. Most of it from Cass, who couldn’t stop smiling: if only Amber would disappear forever!

“And now . . .” As Yo-Yoji strummed, Max-Ernest once again closed and reopened the curtain.

But this time the booth was still empty!

The audience tittered nervously. Yo-Yoji stopped playing and looked confusedly back and forth between the booth and Max-Ernest.

“Huh,” said Max-Ernest, scratching his head. “I guess the magic was a little too strong. . . .”

He closed and opened the curtain again. Still empty.

Everyone squirmed in their seats, uncertain what was happening.

“Sorry, Mrs. Johnson, this has never happened before,” said Max-Ernest, making a big show of his confusion. “I think we lost her.”

Mrs. Johnson looked outraged. “Well, you better find her!”

Suddenly, the loudspeaker crackled. “TRY THE PARKING LOT!” boomed a spooky voice with a hint of an Italian accent.

It was a stampede. Led by Cass.

When they got outside, people pointed, giggling: Amber was stumbling around the parking lot, blindfolded, her hands out in front of her.

“Where am I?? Somebody help me!!!”

Of the whole school, only Mrs. Johnson was not amused. Everybody else cheered for Max-Ernest. Even Amber’s friends.

How did he do it? they asked over and over, impressed and amazed.

Cass had an inkling of the answer when she saw Pietro walking quickly out of the parking lot. He waved at her, then disappeared into the distance.

Cass waved back, grinning from big pointy ear to big pointy ear.

Who said being a member of a dangerous secret society didn’t have its benefits?

APPENDIX

 

Mr. Cabbage Face’s “Roast Villain” Recipe

Note: Before roasting, sear your villain at a high temperature. Mr. Cabbage Face says that is the key. “It seals in the juices.”

 

1 villain, freshly slaughtered

10 cloves garlic, minced

6 sprigs of rosemary

3 pinches of paprika

1 apple for stuffing in villain’s mouth

Salt and pepper to taste

Baste liberally with butter

 

Serves four to six people — or one homunculus.

 

Sound Waves: How Whispers Travel Across Whisper Lake

Sound waves travel at faster speeds in warm temperatures than they do in cold temperatures.

Thus, in the early morning, when the air high above a lake is starting to warm but the air at ground level is still chilled by the cold water, the higher-up sound waves travel faster than the lower-down sound waves. This makes the higher-up sound waves curve over the lower-down waves, creating an arc of sound across the lake. Imagine a rainbow of sound with the colder sounds on the bottom and the warmer sounds on the top. The result is that you can hear sounds from across the lake that normally would disappear before they reached you.

If you don’t understand, don’t worry. Like magic tricks, the mysteries of nature are sometimes more exciting when they’re left mysterious.

 

Max-Ernest the Magnificent’s Magic Cone Trick

With this magic cone, you can make silk handkerchiefs and other small objects like coins or trading cards vanish in thin air. Whether or not you make your own cone,
please
don’t reveal the cone’s secret to anyone.

What you’ll need:

• 2 pieces of construction paper (they must be the same color)

• Scissors

• Glue

• Glitter and/or other decorating supplies

• Silk handkerchief or other small flat item (bandanna not recommended)

• An audience to amaze and confound

 

Making the cone:

1.    Take your two pieces of construction paper and align them one on top of the other. Make sure the paper is oriented horizontally with the shorter edges to either side and the longer edges above and below.
        Now grip both pieces of paper together at the bottom left corner and fold up so the corner touches the top like this:

2.    Make a second fold like this:

3.    Finally, make a third fold so that you end up with a cone like this:

4.    Unfold the pages. Then cut a triangular piece out of the top sheet (only the top sheet!) like this:

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