The Magician's Bird (10 page)

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Authors: Emily Fairlie

BOOK: The Magician's Bird
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“Good grief, you guys,” Misti huffed, standing up and stomping away.

Laurie and Bud watched her in silence. Then Laurie shivered. “This really freaks me out, Bud.”

Bud ripped up a piece of grass. “Yeah, me too.”

Misti stormed into the school without any good reason for being there. She really hoped nobody would stop her and ask what she was doing, because she didn't even have a fake answer. And in the mood she was in, she'd be liable to yell or something, and end up with detention before the school year even started.

She headed into the entryway of the school and walked slowly down the hall, checking out each and every piece of art. She'd gone through three times before she was sure she was right. That dancing frog painting had to be the screen. It was so obvious when you knew what to look for. She'd thought it was just a lousy painting, but all that mess in the background was there to hide the fact that the frog was transparent.

Misti smiled smugly to herself and hurried back down the hall to tell Bud and Laurie. She had almost made it when the voice rang out.

“Minty? Is that you?”

Misti groaned. Candy Winkle wasn't the last person she wanted to see right now, but she was close. She was maybe third from last, right after that weird clown from Misti's fifth birthday and Chuck Howard from third grade, who used to stick his pen in his ear and then suck on it.

The thought of Chuck Howard put everything in perspective. Even Candy Winkle wasn't that bad. Misti stopped and turned around. “What's up?”

Candy Winkle hurried over, followed by a thin woman in blue jeans and an
I HEART MARIA TUTWEILER
shirt. “Minty, what are you doing here? Are you here because of the press conference?”

Misti blinked. In a word, no. But she really wondered what Candy Winkle would say if she said yes. So she did.

Candy nodded. “I thought so, but it's not here. It's down at the courthouse. Do you know where that is?”

Misti nodded. “Thanks for telling me.” She smiled at the thin lady. “Nice shirt.”

Candy Winkle brightened. “Oh, do you think so? That's wonderful!” She reached out and hugged Misti, hard.

Misti tried not to look freaked out. It wasn't every
day the principal's wife hugged the stuffing out of you. Especially for just liking someone's shirt.

Candy Winkle stared at Misti with moist eyes. “Would you like one? If I gave you one, you could wear it to the press conference, wouldn't that be nice?” Candy Winkle smiled so hard her face looked like it would crack. “Wouldn't it?”

Misti nodded. “Sure, I could do that.” She was always up for free school gear. She'd worn her Tuckernuck Clucker shirt so many times you could hardly see the chicken's beak anymore.

“Oh, good!” Candy Winkle grabbed the thin woman by the shoulders. “Quick, Janice, get Minty a shirt! Pronto!”

Bud and Laurie were sitting on the school lawn, glumly pulling grass up by the roots, when Betty Abernathy's feet appeared directly in front of them.

Bud and Laurie looked up guiltily, trying to casually smooth over the picked-at patches.

“Bud. Laurie. I'm afraid I don't have time for our meeting today. And in fact, depending on what happens this afternoon, we may not need to meet ever again. I'll leave notes for you in your school mailboxes. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Laurie's voice sounded rough. She cleared
her throat and said it again.

Betty Abernathy nodded and eyed the turf in front of her. “Good. And now I trust you'll refrain from destroying any more school property? Thank you.”

Bud and Laurie patted the ground apologetically as Miss Abernathy turned and walked away.

Laurie groaned under her breath. “What does that mean? May not need to meet ever again? Is she canceling the scavenger hunt?”

Bud shook his head. “Not the scavenger hunt. I think she's talking about Tuckernuck Hall.”

What to Wear When You're Going to a Press Conference
by Misti Pinkerton

       
1. I HEART MARIA TUTWEILER shirt—check.

       
2. Tuckernuck Cluckers hat—check.

       
3. What Would Maria Tutweiler Do? pin—check.

       
4. Shorts with CLUCKER on the butt—check.

       
5. MARIA TUTWEILER, OUR MOTHER CLUCKER hoodie—check.

“Oh my god, what happened to Misti?” Laurie couldn't believe her eyes. Misti looked like she'd been attacked by the gift shop and lost. It was even worse than the bedazzled sweatshirt, and that was saying something.

Bud opened his mouth and then closed it again. There was really nothing to say.

“Hey, guys, check it out!” Misti twirled around to show off her new Clucker and Maria Tutweiler gear. “Candy Winkle just
gave
it to me so I could wear it to the press conference.”

“We're going to the press conference?” Bud said.

“She just assumed I was, and I wasn't going to say I wasn't, not if she was just giving all this stuff away.” Misti looked at Laurie's and Bud's plain clothes and suddenly felt guilty. “I bet you could still catch her.”

“That's okay,” Laurie said. “That kind of stuff doesn't look half as good on me.” It was actually true. Put Misti in her Clucker gear and she looked kind of cute, or at least as cute as a person could in Clucker gear. Laurie in Clucker gear just made people snicker.

“Press conference sounds good, though,” Laurie said, raising her eyebrows at Bud.

“Yeah, I could go for that.” There wasn't a chance
Bud was missing that press conference, but he decided to play it cool.

“Yay!” Misti crowed. “I think Candy Winkle is going to save us seats in the front row!”

EMAIL

FROM: CANDY WINKLE

TO: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE

SUBJECT: Press Conference

Angel Cakes, I had a terrific idea for something to do at the press conference today. You're going to be so happy and surprised when you see it! You'll never guess in a million years! See you there!

Kisses,

Candy

P.S. It's Minty! I dressed her in Maria Tutweiler gear, and I'm saving her a seat in the front row! That'll show that jerk LeFranco!

EMAIL

FROM: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE

TO: CANDY WINKLE

SUBJECT: Press Conference

That's great, Dumpling!

(What's minty?)

“I don't care, I'm not sitting there,” Laurie hissed as Bud elbowed her in the kidneys. Misti was sitting happily in the front row, talking to Candy Winkle and waving the chicken legs on her hat. She didn't even seem to notice the weird and hostile looks she was getting from some of the other people there.

“There's an empty seat
right next to her
, Laurie,” Bud said again, nudging her harder. “It would be weird for you not to sit in it.”

“Drop it, Bud!” Laurie didn't have anything against sitting next to Misti. But she wasn't a front-row kind of girl, especially not at press conferences. And especially not next to someone in head-to-toe Clucker regalia. “Seriously, I think that was a bad move on Candy Winkle's part. Could she be more obvious?”

Bud shrugged. He didn't really care what Candy Winkle did, as long as he managed to divert attention away from himself. He wasn't about to sit in that empty seat.

Misti turned around in her chair and scanned the room. When she spotted Bud and Laurie, she waved her
arm in the air at them. Bud nudged Laurie again. “She's signaling you.”

But Laurie wasn't looking in Misti's direction. “Bud, look, it's Reginald!”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Bud said. “He's in the article, so of course he's going to be here.”

“I'm going to talk to him,” Laurie said, pushing past Bud and hurrying toward Reginald.

Bud watched as Laurie disappeared in the crowd and then turned back to Misti. She waved at him again. “Bud!” she stage-whispered.

Bud groaned. “Great.”

Ways to Get the Janitor Who Hates You
to Spill His Guts
by Laurie Madison, rising seventh grader

       
1. Sweet-talk him. Mention your pet peeve about liquids in inappropriate places. (DO NOT mention orange juice.)

       
2. Talk tough and bully him. Threaten to stick gum under desks and wear marking soles on the gym floor.

       
3. Beg. Cry if necessary.

       
4. Be perky. No one can resist perky.

“Reginald, hi!” Laurie bounced over to Reginald and smiled a big smile. He was smoking a cigarette and looking nervous. He didn't seem to be himself at all—his slicked-back hair even seemed less slick than normal.

Reginald glared at her and took a drag on his cigarette.

“So, um, that's really cool about you finding something in the school and all.” Laurie bobbed merrily as she talked. She wasn't entirely sure how perky was too perky.

Reginald threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “Yeah. Excuse me now.”

“NO!” Laurie stopped bobbing. She didn't know why she'd thought bobbing was perky anyway. Bobbing was irritating and dorky and had been a terrible mistake. She clutched Reginald by the arm, realized she was touching him, and then let go quickly.

“Reginald, you can tell me. Is LeFranco making you do all this? You can tell me the truth.” Yeah, way to be subtle, Laurie. She felt like kicking herself.

Reginald went a shade paler. “I . . . I'm not talking to you. I have business to attend to. Now git, you.”

He jerked his arm away, even though she wasn't still
holding on to it, and hurried away from her. Throwing one last panicked look over his shoulder as he went.

Bud appeared next to Laurie. “Looks like that went well.”

“Shut up, Bud,” Laurie muttered. “Why aren't you up there with Misti?”

“I was heading up there, but someone else grabbed that seat before I could get there. Check it out.” Bud nodded his head toward the front row, where Calliope Judkin was now sitting next to Misti.

“Typical.” Laurie groaned.

“Shh, children, they're starting.” Some lady with a fanny pack next to Laurie gave her a nasty look.

Laurie rolled her eyes and tried to ignore her by looking up at the stage that had been set up. Reginald was standing off to the side, looking even more uncomfortable than he had five minutes ago. He wasn't making eye contact with anyone—he was just staring off into the distance. He didn't even look over when Walker LeFranco took the stage.

LeFranco smiled a big, cheesy smile at the audience and gave a silent wave. He stopped right next to a small table that had something on it. Something hidden with a large velvet drape.

“Man, he's really milking this. Is that his evidence under that cloth?” Bud whispered, getting his own dirty look from the fanny-pack lady.

“I bet it is.” Laurie edged away from the fanny-pack lady.

Onstage, Walker LeFranco cleared his throat. “Thank you all for coming here today. As you know, Tuckernuck Hall employee Reginald Moore has made an amazing discovery. A discovery that solves, once and for all, the terrible murder of Alphonse Marchetti. It proves, without any doubt, that the person responsible for that murder was none other than Tuckernuck Hall founder and local eccentric Maria Tutweiler.”

LeFranco's eyes gleamed as he looked around the room. Laurie suppressed a shudder. He really was enjoying this.

“Now, I know you'll have questions, and I'll let you ask Mr. Moore whatever you'd like in just a moment. But first I want to present to you—the evidence.” Walker LeFranco placed a hand on top of whatever was under the drape.

“Now, Reginald is a good employee. He does his job thoroughly. So when it came time to clean out one of the little-used storerooms in Tuckernuck Hall, he did so,
never anticipating what he would find.”

“If he's got a skeleton under there, I'm going home,” Laurie whispered.

Bud snickered.

“I'm not kidding,” Laurie insisted.

The fanny-pack lady hissed at her.

“When he reported to work that day, Reginald Moore never anticipated that he would find—” Walker LeFranco whipped off the cover to reveal his evidence. “The Marchetti Bird!”

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