If You’re Reading This, It’s Too Late (29 page)

5.    Discard the biggest part of the top sheet.
        Then glue the triangular piece from the top sheet to the matching part of the bottom sheet. Glue only the long edges, leaving the short edge and the interior of the triangle open. You’ve now created a secret pocket in which you can hide a handkerchief or anything else that will fit.

6.    Decorate the cone — very lightly — with glitter or whatever else you like for magical effect and to hide the glued edges.

Performing:

First, hold the unfolded paper open in front of you with the secret pocket facing the audience. Your right hand should be covering the opening of the pocket from above. The idea is to make it seem like you have a perfectly normal piece of paper in your hands.

Say something like: “Any magician can pull a handkerchief out of a hat, but only the best magicians can make a handkerchief vanish into thin air. Now watch and be astounded!”

Then fold the paper into a cone again. With the secret pocket now facing you, casually adjust the cone so the pocket is open wide enough to accept your handkerchief. (The opening should be hidden by the top of the other side of the cone.)

Push your handkerchief into the secret pocket (or drop in your coin or whatever else you want).

Now unfold the paper and hold it open for the audience, again being careful to keep the secret pocket closed between your fingers.

It will look like your handkerchief has disappeared!

Say: “Ta-dah!” or, as I prefer, “Voilà!”

Remember: you should always practice a magic trick in front of a mirror before trying the trick on an audience. And if you don’t get it right the first time, try again.

Or just give up in frustration like I do.

PB on PB

An Interview With Pseudonymous Bosch by Pseudonymous Bosch

Bowing to the enormous pressure from readers to reveal more about myself, I have granted myself permission to interview . . . myself.

PB: Mr. Bosch, I’d like to begin by asking the big question — is Pseudonymous Bosch your real name?

PB: What do you think?

PB: Can you tell us your real name?

PB: You’re very funny. You should do comedy.

PB: I’ve noticed that the initials, PB, appear several times in your book. But sometimes the initials are not yours; they are the magician Pietro Bergamo’s. Is that your way of hinting you are the same person?

PB: No comment.

PB: Is it true you are the greatest writer of all time?

PB: Yes.

PB: In your opinion, you mean.

PB: (silence)

PB: It is well known that you are a lover of chocolate and also cheese. To what do you attribute these passions?

PB: Good taste.

PB: Why are you so scared of mayonnaise?

PB: I nearly drowned in a jar when I was a young child. Also, it’s disgusting.

PB: What is your favorite animal?

PB: To eat?

PB: Mr. Bosch!!!

PB: Just kidding. What happened to your sense of humor? My favorite animal would have to be my pet rabbit. His name is Lorraine (long story there!), but we call him Quiche.

PB: Who are your heroes?

PB: Cass and Max-Ernest, of course.

PB: What dead person would you most like to have lunch with?

PB: I wouldn’t want to have lunch with a dead person. Would you?

PB: We’re not here to talk about me.

PB: Oh . . . right.

PB: Can you tell us your real name?

PB: #*##*@%*&%^*!!!!!

PB: Please.

PB: No!

PB: Why all this secrecy surrounding your identity?

PB: Fear.

PB: One of your readers has suggested that the true reason you won’t reveal your name is that you are embarrassed by it.

PB: Um. I don’t think . . . (cough) never mind.

PB: Some say you are really a woman.

PB: They also say I’m a highly intelligent chimpanzee.

PB: Did you say “highly intelligent”?

PB: Are you here to interview me or insult me?

PB: What is your real name?

PB: If you ask me that one more time I’m going to kill you!

PB: I’ll be your best friend. . . .

PB: (pause) OK. But I’m only telling
you
.

*
IF NOT, SEE CASS AND MAX-ERNEST AND THE MYSTERY OF THE SECRET SPA. ALSO CALLED CASS AND MAX-ERNEST AND THE CURSE OF THE NOT-SO-ANCIENT PYRAMID. YOU MAY KNOW IT AS THE NAME OF THIS BOOK IS SECRET — A TITLE THAT IS SO CONFUSING I SELDOM USE IT MYSELF.
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* I
F YOU’VE NEVER SEEN THE LETTER, I RECOMMEND YOU READ IT YOURSELF. IT WAS WRITTEN IN CODE AND SIGNED P.B. PIETRO BERGAMO. CASS AND HER FRIEND MAX-ERNEST FOUND IT ETCHED ON A FOGGY WINDOW. BUT YOU WILL FIND IT AT THE END OF THE LAST CHAPTER OF MY FIRST BOOK, CASS AND MAX-ERNEST AND THE SECRET OF THE ROTTEN EGG SMELL, OR WHATEVER IT’S CALLED. WHETHER YOU READ THE WHOLE BOOK FIRST (WHICH IS THE HONORABLE THING TO DO) OR JUST SKIP TO THE LETTER AND THEN PUT THE BOOK BACK ON THE SHELF (WHICH IS BASICALLY LIKE STEALING) IS UP TO YOU
.
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FREUD WAS THE INVENTOR OF THE FREUDIAN SLIP — WHICH IS NOT SOMETHING YOU WEAR UNDER A DRESS, BUT IS WHEN YOU INTEND TO SAY ONE THING, THEN ACCIDENTALLY SAY SOMETHING ELSE THAT WAS ON YOUR MIND. SO CHEESE — I MEAN, PLEASE — TAKE EVERYTHING HE SAID WITH A GRAIN OF SALT (OR AT LEAST WITH A SLICE OF CHEDDAR). PERHAPS HE MEANT THAT A DREAM WAS THE FULFILLMENT OF A FISH!
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YES, I AGREE. HUGGING A PLUSHY TOY — EVEN A RECYCLED SOCK- MONSTER — DOESN’T SEEM VERY SURVIVALIST-ISH. CASS WOULD BE RATHER UPSET THAT I MENTIONED IT. PLEASE FORGET ABOUT IT — AS WELL AS ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE I TELL YOU, OF COURSE
.
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WHILE I’M ON THE SUBJECT, YOU DO REMEMBER THAT ALL THE NAMES IN THIS BOOK ARE MADE UP, DON’T YOU? CASSANDRA. MAX-ERNEST. ALL OF THEM. YES, I’M RECKLESS AND IRRESPONSIBLE, BUT THERE’S A LIMIT — EVEN FOR ME. I WOULD NEVER TELL YOU MY CHARACTERS’ REAL NAMES. IF SOMEBODY READING THIS BOOK — SOMEBODY, I SAID, NOT YOU — WERE ABLE TO TRACK ONE OF THEM DOWN, WELL, I DON’T EVEN WANT TO THINK ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES
.
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DON’T WORRY, AS CASS OFTEN POINTED OUT TO HER NERVOUS LUNCH TABLE COMPANIONS, THERE WERE NO NUTS IN HER TRAIL MIX — JUST PEANUT BUTTER CHIPS, AND THEY WERE ARTIFICIALLY FLAVORED. FOR CASS’S PATENTED “SUPER-CHIP” TRAIL MIX RECIPE, SEE BOOK I, APPENDIX
.
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IF YOU ASK YOUR PARENTS, THEY WILL PROBABLY TELL YOU THAT JIMI HENDRIX WAS THE GREATEST ROCK GUITAR PLAYER WHO EVER LIVED. WHAT THEY MIGHT NOT TELL YOU IS THAT HE ALSO LIKED TO WEAR WIGS. FEEDBACK, BY THE WAY, IS THAT HIGH-PITCHED SQUEALING YOU GET WHEN A MICROPHONE PICKS UP SOUND FROM A LOUDSPEAKER (A SOUND WHICH, IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT, CAME FROM THE MICROPHONE IN THE FIRST PLACE!). BEFORE HENDRIX, MOST PEOPLE THOUGHT OF FEEDBACK AS TRASH NOISE. BUT HE TURNED IT INTO MUSIC
.
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ACTUALLY, IT WAS NOT A GALLEON, BUT RATHER A NINETEENTH-CENTURY SCHOONER — A SIMILAR BUT SLEEKER VESSEL. BUT I THINK THE WORD GALLEON HAS A MORE ROMANTIC AND ADVENTUROUS RING TO IT, DON’T YOU?
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I BELIEVE MS. MAUVAIS WAS REFERRING TO THE TIME CASS PRETENDED TO BE A SKELTON SISTER IN ORDER TO GAIN ENTRANCE TO HER SPA. A RATHER MEAN JOKE, IF YOU ASK ME.
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IT DOESN’T SURPRISE ME THAT MS. MAUVAIS’S CHEF WOULD WANT TO MAKE SHARK FIN SOUP; IT IS A SOUP FOR THE HEARTLESS. IN ORDER TO MAKE IT, A FIN IS RIPPED OFF A LIVE SHARK — THEN THE SHARK IS THROWN BACK INTO THE WATER. UNABLE TO SWIM, THE SHARK DROWNS — OR BECOMES PREY FOR OTHER FISH.
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READERS OF MY PREVIOUS LITERARY EFFORT MAY REMEMBER A YOUNG CHINESE GIRL MENTIONED IN PIETRO’S NOTEBOOK. A VIOLIN PRODIGY, SHE WAS KIDNAPPED BY MS. MAUVAIS AFTER A CONCERT. YES, LILY WEI IS THE VERY SAME GIRL, NOW GROWN UP. AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, HER YEARS WITH THE MIDNIGHT SUN WERE HARROWING, AND HER ESCAPE EXHILARATING — BUT THAT, I’M AFRAID, IS A STORY FOR ANOTHER TIME.
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IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT ONOMATOPOEIC MEANS, WELL — DING-DONG-CLICK-CLACK-BUZZ-QUACK! — LOOK IT UP.
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I WILL LET YOU, DEAR READER, DECIDE WHETHER CASS DID RIGHT IN LETTING MAX-ERNEST DO ALL THE WORK, OR WHETHER — JUST POSSIBLY — SHE WAS HIDING BEHIND HER ENVIRONMENTAL SENSITIVITIES TO AVOID A TASK SHE DIDN’T WANT TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE.
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JUST TO BE CLEAR: A HALF-HOUSE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HALF-LIFE, WHICH IS A WAY OF MEASURING RADIATION RESIDUE AND OTHER THINGS THAT DISAPPEAR OVER TIME. NOR IS A HALF-HOUSE ANYTHING LIKE A HALFWAY HOUSE, WHICH IS A PLACE PEOPLE STAY AFTER THEY’VE BEEN IN JAIL. TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE, NEITHER OF MAX-ERNEST’S PARENTS WERE EVER CRIMINALS. AS FOR MAX-ERNEST HIMSELF, I CAN’T ANSWER FOR HIS FUTURE ACTIONS, BUT SO FAR, HIS RECORD IS CLEAN!
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PERSONALLY, I THINK THE PROBLEM WAS THAT HE WAS USING A BULKY BANDANNA INSTEAD OF A PROPER MAGICIAN’S SCARF. IF YOU’D LIKE TO MAKE YOUR OWN MAGIC CONE, YOU CAN FIND INSTRUCTIONS IN THE APPENDIX. AND PLEASE TRY IT WITH A “SILK,” AS MAGICIANS CALL THEIR SCARVES, NOT A BANDANNA.
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IF THE TIME PERIOD NOTED BY THE AUTHOR OF THIS STORY IS CORRECT, THEN THE MONARCH MENTIONED HERE WOULD BE HENRY VIII OF EN-GLAND — A KING FAMOUS FOR, AMONG OTHER THINGS, HAVING SIX WIVES, TWO OF WHOM HE BEHEADED.
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GRANDPA WAYNE HAD AN OLD PICKUP TRUCK THAT WAS HIS PRIDE AND JOY BUT THAT WAS ALWAYS IN A STATE OF HALF-REPAINTED SEMI-DISREPAIR. CASS’S MOTHER, WHO CONSIDERED THE TRUCK AN “ACCIDENT WAITING TO HAPPEN,” STRICTLY FORBADE CASS FROM RIDING IN THE FLATBED IN THE BACK — WHICH, ACCORDING TO CASS’S MOTHER, WAS NOT ONLY DANGEROUS BUT ILLEGAL. I HATE TO GIVE CASS AWAY, BUT THINK ABOUT IT — IT WOULD HAVE BEEN HARD TO FIT THREE KIDS IN FRONT WITH TWO ADULTS, EVEN ON A BENCH SEAT.
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I WILL EXPLAIN THIS PHENOMENON IN THE APPENDIX FOR THE SCIENTIFICALLY CURIOUS (OR FOR ANYONE WHO HAS FINISHED THE BOOK AND DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO THINK ABOUT).
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MEANWHILE? DID I REALLY JUST WRITE MEANWHILE? MEANWHILE IS TO WRITING WHAT UM IS TO SPEAKING. A SPACE-FILLER. A SIGN THAT SOMEONE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY OR HOW TO SAY IT. MEANWHILE BELONGS WITH PHRASES LIKE ON THE OTHER HAND — PHRASES THAT A GOOD WRITER SHOULD NEVER USE. ON THE OTHER HAND, THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MEANWHILE THAT I RATHER LIKE — ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S FOLLOWED BY AN ELLIPSIS, LIKE THIS: MEANWHILE . . . CAN YOU HEAR THAT SENSE OF MENACE? THAT SENSE OF, UH-OH, JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO GO BACK IN THE WATER . . .
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IT INVOLVED SHUFFLING VERY SLOPPILY, ONLY TO REVEAL THE CARDS NEATLY ARRANGED AT THE END. NORMALLY, A FUN TRICK. (PERHAPS I’LL TEACH IT TO YOU SOMEDAY.) BUT TO BE HONEST, IT FELL A LITTLE FLAT THIS TIME.
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AS FAR AS I KNOW, MAX-ERNEST NEVER ACTUALLY HAD AGORAPHOBIA (WHICH IS USUALLY DEFINED AS A FEAR OF CROWDS AND OPEN SPACES). BUT OVER THE YEARS MAX-ERNEST HAD BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH SO MANY CONDITIONS THAT HIS PARENTS WERE IN THE HABIT OF ASSUMING HE HAD EACH AND EVERY CONDITION THERE WAS.
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I KNOW — YOU’RE FRUSTRATED. ALL THOSE NOBLE TERCES MEMBERS MAY WAX PHILOSOPHICAL, BUT YOU WERE HOPING TO LEARN SOMETHING MORE ABOUT THE SECRET. IF IT’S ANY CONSOLATION, THINK ABOUT IT THIS WAY: WOULD YOU RATHER KNOW THE SECRET OR SAVE THE WORLD? IN A SENSE, THAT WAS THE CHOICE OUR THREE FRIENDS FACED — AND THE HOMUNCULUS HIMSELF FACED — WHEN THEY DECIDED TO BURY LORD PHARAOH’S COFFIN.
                    OF COURSE, I MYSELF MIGHT HAVE CHOSEN THE SECRET. BUT THAT IS WHY I’M A WRITER AND NOT A HERO.
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