1 Defying Gravity As soon as Gram left the apartment Sunday morning to work at the food pantry, I raced to my room and slipped on my shoes. After everything that had happened in the last week, Gram had decided the magic repair shop was too dangerous and I was forbidden to go there. But I knew I couldn''t stay away. I had to get Mr. McGuire to convince Gram to let me work there. That''s not to say I didn''t understand why Gram didn''t want me to go down to the shop anymore. I''d been in Connecticut for less than a week and already I''d already been attacked by a lion and kidnapped by a crazed magician, and just two nights ago I was seconds away from spending the rest of my life in a magic mirror. Getting her to change her mind was going to be harder than teaching an elephant to ride a unicycle on a tightrope.
I grabbed my keys off my night table and bumped Hasenpfeffer''s cage. Grimacing, I crossed my fingers and hoped I hadn''t woken him up. "For pity''s sake," he snapped. He poked his furry white head out from under his blanket, blinking his pink eyes in the light. "Can''t a rabbit take a nap in peace?" "Sorry." "You''re always sorry , Maggie," he continued. "How about you just watch where those enormous feet of yours are going?" "They''re only a size four!" Hasenpfeffer sat up on his haunches. "Yet they somehow always manage to hit my cage.
" I rolled my eyes. There''d been more than one occasion I''d regretted casting the spell that gave him speech--even if it had been by accident--and this was one of them. " Fine , I''ll move your cage away from my bed where I won''t bang into it." I looked around the tiny bedroom I''d be staying in for the next year while my parents were hunting cockroaches in the Amazon. There weren''t a lot of options. "How about over there, by the window?" Hasenpfeffer peered at the window overlooking the street below. "What, and get heatstroke when the afternoon sun comes in? No thank you." I pointed to the other side of the room by my closet.
He shook his head. "Too drafty." "By the computer?" "What, and listen to that infernal humming all the time? Tsk. There really isn''t a good spot in this shoe box of a room." He chattered his teeth as he sniffed around, peering into every corner. "I''m not used to being in such confined quarters all the time. I miss the grand hotel rooms when Milo and I traveled; I miss performing and hearing the cheers as I got pulled out of the hat. Look what''s become of me.
Stuck here with nothing to do all day but stare at an overabundance of unicorn posters." He sniffed, and I wondered if it was possible for a rabbit to cry. "I never imagined I''d retire this early," he continued, "but I thought if I ever did, I''d be living it up in a spacious hutch in Japan. Milo and I were very popular in Japan. I even got fan mail." He let out a long, mournful sigh. I decided not to remind him he was stuck with me because his former owner, Milo the Magnificent, had abandoned him in the magic repair shop. The fact that Milo had tried to kill me apparently had no effect on Hasenpfeffer''s longing for his old life.
"Well, I''m going for a walk," I said, trying to sound light and breezy. "Tell Gram if she gets home before I do, okay?" "Oh, please. You''re going to the shop. And don''t pretend otherwise." He shook his head. "You''re a terrible actress." "I''m not going to the shop!" I lied. "I''m just going for a walk.
You know--fresh air, sunshine." "I demand parsley or I tell the old woman you''re with McGuire." "That''s blackmail," I said, putting my hands on my hips. He put a paw on his nearly empty food dish. "Call it what you want, but it would be very easy to forget this conversation ever happened if I had a belly full of parsley." I squeezed my eyes shut tight. "Fine, you win." "Make it the flat-leaf Italian parsley.
It''s my favorite and easier on my digestive system." I shook my head as I took out my grandfather''s old wooden wand--curved and bent like a tree branch--from my desk drawer. After working out a simple rhyme in my head, I pointed the wand at Hasenpfeffer''s cage. " Garden''s growing rather sparsely, let''s just get a crop of parsley." A shower of green sparks shot from the tip, and then Hasenpfeffer''s bowl filled to the top with parsley. He hopped over and sniffed. "Ah. Perfect.
" He grabbed a mouthful and started chewing noisily. "Tell McGuire I said hello," he mumbled. I walked down the steps to the sidewalk and looked up at the apartment above mine, where Raphael lived. I would''ve asked him to come with me, but I knew he was at his bagpipe lessons. I shook my head. Who takes bagpipe lessons? Since Raphael was a twelve-year-old genius, I was sure he could help me to think up the perfect argument to convince Gram that working in the shop was safe; but in the meantime, Mr. McGuire and I would be on our own. I headed down a couple of blocks and finally turned at the corner of Barnum Avenue, where McGuire and Malloy''s Magic Repair Shop was located.
A beat-up blue van covered with large daisy decals was parked out front. When I got closer I saw a magnetic sign on the van that read CLARENCE''S MAGICAL CLOWNING. I wrinkled my nose. I had never much cared for clowns. I walked down the steps to the basement storefront and slowly opened the door. My eyes popped when I stepped inside. An orange rabbit with purple paws and ears was turning slowly in the air. Birthday hats, a deflated green balloon, a partially eaten hamburger, and several brightly colored, wrapped presents orbited the rabbit like disorderly planets around a sun.
The rabbit seemed unconcerned as it drifted in lazy circles, and I couldn''t help smiling thinking about what Hasenpfeffer would say if he were in this situation. He wouldn''t be taking it so calmly, that''s for sure. "Maggie!" Mr. McGuire said. "What are you doing here? I thought your grandmother made it clear you weren''t to come down again." I turned and saw Mr. McGuire standing next to a small man who looked like he could be a hundred years old. He was bone thin and dressed in a baggy orange clown suit.
His white makeup gathered in the deep creases on his face, and the blue diamonds painted around his eyes glistened with tears. As he tugged on the oversize pink bowtie under his chin and pointed to the rabbit, I couldn''t help thinking this clown was looking sad not scary. "Are you Maggie?" the man asked, squinting at me. "Gregory said he was wishing you was here to help. It''s my Gertrude who needs fixin.''" He pointed to the rabbit again. "She''s been like that for three hours now. I can''t lose her; she''s all I got--well except for the wife, but Gertrude is the only one who really understands me.
" "I just came to talk about ." I paused, unable to keep my eyes off the gravity-defying rabbit. Mr. McGuire snapped his suspenders. "Maggie Malloy, meet Mr. Clarence Fishbone. He had a bit of a mishap at a birthday party earlier today." The old man scowled.
"There were nearly twenty of them-- twenty rotten kids . They laughed at me, they did. Didn''t think I could do nuttin. They know better now." "What happened?" I asked. Mr. Fishbone shook his head mournfully. "The wife keeps telling me I''m too old for putting on shows, but we''ve gots bills to pay.
So I take the job for this Billy kid''s fifth birthday, and as soon as I walked in I knew it was gonna be trouble. Them kids was pawing through me stuff--they let the pigeons loose and one of ''em dumped a whole jar of magic dust number seven into me hat." I looked at Mr. McGuire. "A whole jar?" "A whole jar," he echoed. Mr. McGuire had told me that a teaspoon of magic dust number seven gave extra power to spells, so it was easy to understand why he was having difficulty repairing this particular one. Mr.
Fishbone took the daisy-covered, dome-shaped hat off his head and brought it to his chest. His faded brown eyes misted over as he clutched it tightly. "Me grand finale is something special. I don''t just pull a rabbit out of me hat like most party magicians do--I have Gertrude float out." He raised the hat slowly in the air to mimic the effect. "Showstopper it is, I tell you. Only when Gertrude floated out today, she started attracting things. Hats got ripped of kids'' heads.
Presents floated up, and well, as you can guess, that wasn''t real popular with Billy. Had a bit of tantrum he did. But the worst part was my poor Gertrude floating like a balloon on the ceiling and me not being able to do anything about it. Luckily, Gregory here was on call and able to cast a containment spell around her so she wouldn''t float off." His face crumpled as he looked at Gertrude hovering just out of reach. "What have you tried so far?" I asked Mr. McGuire. "I haven''t been at it long, but the various rabbit-in-the-hat spells didn''t work.
" I turned to Mr. Fishbone. "What spell did you use to make Gertrude levitate?" He scratched the purple wig on his head. "I''ve got it written down somewhere. The wife insists I write everything down now. She wasn''t happy when I made the laundry disappear and couldn''t remember which spell I''d used. Had to go buy new underwear we did." He reached into.