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Out of Bounds Page 10


  “Do you know anything about Houdini?” Charlotte asked.

  “Harry Houdini?” Miss Pierce said the name as if he were a longtime friend.

  Charlotte nodded.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Charlotte pulled the Houdini books out of her backpack. “I’ve read these biographies,” Charlotte said. “I was wondering if you know anything about the tricks he performed…the escapes and things. I thought maybe you knew how he did them.”

  “What makes you think I am familiar with Houdini?”

  “I saw some books when I was here before,” Charlotte said. In fact, she had seen several books on Houdini, a whole shelf of them. Right next to the more scientific astronomy journals. Somehow, it seemed to suit Miss Pierce to have both. Maybe it was because she lived in a house with a secret Tower room and seemed like a bit of an escape artist herself. Or maybe it was just a hunch. “I need a really good trick for the talent show. I was hoping you could help me.”

  “As a matter of fact, Charlotte, I do know a few of his tricks,” Miss Pierce said, pulling her chair closer to the couch. “The key to Houdini’s magic was that he was an incredible athlete…and a great escape artist.”

  Charlotte leaned forward with excitement. Miss Pierce, went over to her bookshelf and took out a dusty old volume with a leather cover. It was an illustrated biography of Houdini, one that Charlotte had never seen before.

  When Katani opened the door to home, all the lights in the house were out. Strange, she thought, everybody’s car is here. She pushed open the door to the kitchen.

  “Surprise!” her family shouted. Katani dropped her book bag. Kelley and Patrice held a banner that said, “We are proud of you!” while her parents and grandmother stood in front of a big chocolate cake from Party Favors, which, in pink frosting, told the world the truth. “To the girl with the best proposal…ever!”

  I’ll have to talk to that Charlotte, thought Katani.

  CHAPTER 10

  Marty’s New Trick

  Saturday night, Charlotte and her father were down in the basement when the doorbell rang.

  “Oh, Dad, that must be everybody.”

  “That’s okay, honey, you go ahead. I’ll finish up down here.”

  Charlotte started to run upstairs and then she ran back down again.

  “Thanks so much, Dad, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “No problem…hammer and nails I can do. Just don’t ask me to pick any colors for the box. They would boo you girls off the stage.”

  “That’s okay, we’ve got Isabel. She can paint anything.”

  The doorbell rang again…and again…and again.

  “Gotta go, Dad. Avery is doing her, ‘Open this door right now’ routine.”

  Charlotte ran to get the doorbell before Avery had a heart attack. Marty was so excited to see all the girls that he was jumping up in the air and doing backflips. Just as Charlotte opened the door to let everyone in, the phone rang. And then the pizza man came.

  “I feel like I’m on roller skates today,” Charlotte said, as she bolted up the front hall stairs. She and her father lived on the second floor, and Miss Pierce, their landlady, lived on the first.

  She was out of breath when she got there, so she let out a big whoosh of air when she answered the phone. She sounded like Betsy Fitzgerald did after playing the tuba!

  “Is this the Ramsey residence?” the voice on the other end asked hesitantly.

  “It’s me, Isabel,” Charlotte answered breathlessly. “I just ran up two flights of stairs. Are you coming?”

  “Go ahead and start the Katharine Hepburn movie without me, I’m going to be late.”

  On Golden Pond turned out to be a really cool movie, and it had a totally cute boy their age in it. They ate popcorn, snarfed down the pizza, and ate a bag of candy from the Movie House, compliments of Mr. Taylor. At the end of the movie, everyone wanted to see all the old films with Katharine Hepburn in them and everything with both Henry and Jane Fonda. Avery wanted to go out and practice her backflip like Jane did in the movie, but she was going to have to wait until next summer to perfect it because Jane did it off a diving board.

  WHERE IS ISABEL?

  Miss Pierce had loaned Charlotte some things for the act: a Chinese finger puzzle, a magic cape, and the design for the Houdini Box that they had taken from the book. When the movie was over, Charlotte’s dad carried up the box they had been working on for the talent show. She demonstrated everything for Avery, Maeve, and Katani. Lifting up the false back and sliding the secret panel out of the way, Charlotte showed them how the box was supposed to work. “And this is how you escape,” she said to Avery.

  “But won’t people see that?” Maeve asked.

  “You’re supposed to create a diversion, something to lead their eyes elsewhere,” Charlotte said.

  “Smoke and mirrors,” Avery said.

  “We really need a camouflage curtain of some kind,” Katani said, thinking of something she could make.

  “Too bad the school auditorium doesn’t have an orchestra pit,” Maeve said. “Like the theater does. That door Charlotte tripped over would have made a perfect escape hatch.”

  They all thought as hard as they could, and then made a list. They agreed that each of them would come up with at least one diversionary tactic by Monday.

  “Of course, Isabel will have the final say on the box design,” Charlotte said.

  “If she ever gets here,” Avery said. “Where is she?”

  “Did you see her in the computer lab Friday afternoon?” Katani asked. “I didn’t leave school ’til four o’clock, and Isabel was still there trying to figure out some animation thing that Kiki ordered her to do. Something with film images of Kiki. Kind of A Chorus Line thing to make it look like there are hundreds of Kikis dancing.”

  “That’s a scary thought,” Maeve said.

  “It kind of defeats the purpose of having backup dancers, doesn’t it?” Avery asked.

  “I think that’s the point,” Katani said.

  “I think Ms. Ciara should stop this. It’s too much work for Isabel,” Maeve said.

  Charlotte was trying not to say anything. But she kept looking at the clock. She was really starting to get worried about her friend.

  An hour later all four girls were worried. “Wasn’t their rehearsal only supposed to last until seven o’clock?” Avery wanted to know.

  “That’s right,” Charlotte said.

  “What time is it now?”

  “Almost seven thirty,” Charlotte said.

  They all looked at each other.

  “I’m going to ask my dad to take us down there,” Charlotte said.

  “Let’s wait a little while longer and then go,” said Katani. “We don’t want to interrupt them. You know how obnoxious Kiki gets.”

  They all agreed that that was a good idea.

  Everyone was quiet and tense. Avery decided to show them the new trick she was working on with Marty.

  She pretended to hypnotize him. “You are getting sleepy,” she said, waving a pocket watch she had borrowed from her grandfather. Marty’s eyes followed the swinging watch.

  “You are completely under my power,” Avery said. Marty looked at her expectantly.

  “Play dead,” Avery said, giving him his first command.

  Marty fell to the ground in a heap.

  The girls started to clap, but Avery held up a hand to silence them. The trick wasn’t over. Then she reached under Marty and picked him up. He was as stiff as a board, his four legs in the air.

  The girls became hysterical with laughter. The longer Marty stayed that way, the more they laughed, until Marty lifted one eyelid and looked at Avery as if to ask, “How long are you planning to make me stay like this?”

  “When I snap my fingers, you will wake up,” Avery said. She snapped her fingers. Marty came back to life and jumped down.

  The girls clapped.

  Marty moved from Maeve, to Katani, to
Charlotte, expecting treats from each one.

  “That’s the bad part,” Avery said. “If you clap, he expects a treat from you.”

  But no one minded. They were only too glad to give Marty a treat. Marty had saved the party.

  “Marty’s got to be allowed in the show,” Maeve said, patting his head.

  “Oh, he will be,” Avery said. “One way or another.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Katani said.

  “I don’t want to know,” Charlotte laughed.

  When Isabel wasn’t there by eight p.m., Charlotte got her father to take them down to the school.

  The school was still open and the janitor was washing the floors. He was still cleaning up from the Abigail Adams Eighth-Grade Art Night. The girls headed for the auditorium, but when they got there, all the lights were out.

  “They’re gone,” Charlotte said.

  “Maybe she went home,” Katani suggested.

  “She wouldn’t just go home. She would have at least called us or something,” Maeve said.

  As they turned the corner, they ran into Isabel’s favorite art teacher.

  “We’re looking for Isabel Martinez. Have you seen her?” Avery asked.

  “I just left her in the computer lab,” he said, as he stooped down to get a drink of water. “I told her that we are going to close the building in twenty minutes and she needs to leave by then.”

  The girls and Mr. Ramsey hurried down the hallway toward the computer lab. Sitting in front of the large monitor was a lonely figure…Isabel. Even stranger was that hundreds of Kikis stared back at her from the screen. Suddenly, Isabel slammed her hand down on the desk. The thousand and one Kikis had turned blue and stopped dancing. Isabel shook her head in frustration.

  “Hi, Isabel,” said Charlotte.

  Isabel looked up, surprised and a little freaked out to see them. “What time is it?”

  “Almost eight thirty,” Charlotte’s father said. “You shouldn’t be here this late.”

  “I’m sorry,” Isabel said. “I meant to come by, I really did. I just lost track of the time.”

  “It’s okay,” Charlotte said, feeling really bad for her friend. “We decided to come get you.”

  Everyone wanted to say something. About how she shouldn’t let Kiki take advantage of her like that. About how she should quit the stupid act. But they all knew getting her father here was the most important thing in Isabel’s life right now.

  Finally, Maeve, who couldn’t take the silence anymore, said. “I think Kiki looks good blue.”

  That broke the ice. They all giggled about the vision of a thousand and one blue Kikis on talent night.

  “It could work,” Katani said in a light tone, hoping to make Isabel feel better.

  But Isabel didn’t even smile. Too overwhelmed to see the humor of Kiki in blue, she shut down the computer. As Isabel left the lab with Maeve and Avery, Katani whispered to Charlotte, “We’re going to have to talk to her. She is pushing herself too hard.”

  When they returned to the Tower, the BSG made Isabel sit on the couch. They had a lot to talk to her about, but first they wanted her to see Charlotte’s magician’s box and Marty’s trick.

  Isabel nodded politely and said, “Cool.” The other girls stared at each other. This quiet girl was not the Isabel they knew. Surely, Avery’s trick would lift her spirits.

  Marty repeated the trick flawlessly, and, at the end of his performance, he made the rounds. Just as before, Marty went to everyone who applauded for him, expecting treats. He went to everyone except for Isabel. She was the only one not applauding. Not because she didn’t like Marty’s act, but because she had missed the whole thing. Isabel was fast asleep on top of her sleeping bag.

  CHAPTER 11

  Game Two

  Avery’s Blog

  Possibilities for Marty’s Future

  1. Dog shows—I mean the big ones. Like you see on TV. I know the dogs are usually purebreds, but that is SO NOT FAIR. Marty is smarter and way handsomer than all of them.

  2. Late night TV—sometimes I watch Leno & Letterman with Scott when we’re on vacation. They always have animals on there doing crazy tricks. But I’ve never seen any dog play dead as well as Marty does. I’m serious.

  3. Hollywood—with his super canine charm and major good looks, Marty’s a star. He and Maeve can walk the red carpet together. Dog and girl…Oscar superstars.

  All the BSG, including Marty, went to see Avery referee the Twisters vs. the Tornadoes in the second game of the fourth-grade girls’ soccer tournament. After the last game, no one wanted to leave Avery to face the wrath of Megan’s mom alone. Nope, they had to be there in full BSG force.

  No one in the stands had jackets on today. It was hot. New England weather again. Go figure. The girls had on tank tops and shorts. Of course, Katani sported an adorable tank that Isabel had painted little bumblebees on. All the fourth graders in their row wanted to know where she’d bought it.

  “Maybe after the talent show we could have a little business selling tank tops,” Katani said to Isabel.

  “You could call it T time…get it?” said Maeve.

  “I love it,” said Katani. “Okay, Maeve, you get to write all our advertising copy.”

  “Me write? It’s me, Maeve…me and the writing thing are not like the best combination.”

  “That’s okay. Charlotte will fix the grammar and you can come up with all the slogans and stuff,” Katani remarked, looking over at Isabel.

  Isabel just nodded. Maeve, Charlotte, and Katani exchanged worried glances. It was like somebody had turned off Isabel’s light.

  Suddenly they heard it. Megan’s mom was yelling again. She was the only parent in the stands who was yelling instructions to Megan, who was trying to ignore her mother and listen to the real coach. Charlotte thought that life with Megan’s mom couldn’t be easy.

  “I can’t believe she is still yelling like that,” Katani said.

  The Beacon Street Girls sat as far away from Megan’s mom as they could get, moving all the way to the top of the bleachers, where they were less likely to hear her. “Maybe we should sit on the other side,” Isabel suggested.

  “No way. We have to root for Megan. I think she needs us,” Maeve said.

  “Wake up! What are you doing out there?” Megan’s mom yelled.

  “Was that kick illegal?” Charlotte asked.

  “You’re asking me? The girl who can’t kick a soccer ball two feet without stumbling over her own feet?” Katani replied.

  “Actually, it is,” Isabel said. “But I’m not going to be the one to try to tell her.”

  “Me either,” Charlotte said. “I’m going to take Marty for a walk down behind the bleachers.”

  Hearing his name, Marty poked his head out of the sports bag and barked at Megan’s mom.

  Isabel patted his head. “You are the cutest little dude there is.”

  Marty nuzzled her.

  “I swear he understands us,” Charlotte said, as she clipped his leash on and took him under her arm and made her way down the stairs. All the way down, kids reached out to pat Marty on the head. Marty was very pleased to reward each one of them with a slurp on their hands.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Charlotte put Marty down on the ground. Before she could contain him, he was off and running across the field as fast as his legs could go, his leash trailing behind him. He had seen something in the distance…something very pink. Oh, no, panicked Charlotte. If he runs into traffic, he could get squished. Charlotte sprinted after him, afraid that Marty’s days would be numbered.

  Lucky for Charlotte, the very pink thing in the distance that Marty had spotted was a dog. As Charlotte got closer, she could see that it was an elegant-looking, very large pink poodle, accompanied by a young woman about twenty-five…also a vision in pink. Charlotte wanted to stare. The young woman was wearing pink capri pants, pink sneakers, a pink tank top, pink hoop earrings, pink sunglasses, and to top it off, she had dyed he
r hair a dark raspberry. The effect was quite startling, but she could also see that the woman seemed a bit exasperated with Marty’s attention to her very fancy poodle.

  Breathless, Charlotte finally reached the trio and grabbed Marty’s leash and began to apologize.

  “Oh…” Charlotte was stumped. Should she say Ms., or Ma’am, or Miss? It was so confusing trying to decide what to call people. She decided to just blunder ahead.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss. Marty just took off. I…I don’t think he has ever seen a pink dog before. Actually, come to think of it, neither have I,” said Charlotte as she tried to pull Marty away from the poodle and sneak a closer look at this very pink young woman.

  But Marty was having none of that. He was leaping and spinning circles in front of the poodle. She, on the other hand, simply stood there staring at him as if she had never seen anything quite like Marty either. Suddenly, she lowered her aristocratic nose and slurped Marty on his nose…a very elegant slurp, but a slurp, nonetheless. Overcome, Marty instantly lay down in front of her and stared up at her with rapturous doggy eyes.

  “I think your little dog is in love with my La Fanny,” the woman sighed as she told La Fanny to sit quietly next to her. “It happens all the time. Every day at the park, La Fanny is surrounded by admirers. But…,” she paused.

  “I’ve never seen her ‘slurp’ another dog before. She always avoids them. You know,” she added conspiratorially, “most dogs are so rough. She doesn’t care for that. Do you, La Fanny?” She bent down to caress her very pink dog. La Fanny preened and stretched her neck as her mistress scratched her fuzzy pink ears.

  Charlotte was speechless. She had never seen anyone dressed like this, much less anyone dressed like this and accompanied by a pink French poodle named La Fanny. Only at the Cannes Film Festival would you see something this outlandish. Even passersby were staring and smiling. One elderly gentleman tipped his Red Sox cap toward the pink pair.

  “Are you from France?” Charlotte thought to ask the pink lady.

  “Oh, no, but I am very flattered that you asked. I admire the French so much. What a country! Such food, clothes, design…it’s so elegant there. Of course, everything is so très cher—expensive—and that is why I came back home to live…and start my little shop.