Free EllRay Jakes Is Magic by Sally Warner Page B

you are now the proud owner of ‘The Magic Flower Pot,’ son, and ‘Color-Changing Scarves,’ and ‘The Jumbo Change Bag’ illusions. And I’ll help you figure them all out after dinner. Then you can decide which two of the three you want to perform tomorrow, and I’ll help you practice until you’re good to go. And I’m going to be inthe audience tomorrow afternoon, too—whatever it takes. We’re a team, son.”
    “A team?” I ask, trying out the word as if I’ve never heard it before.
    I kind of like it!
    But—me, EllRay Jakes? Forgetter of permission slips, principals’ names, seven-times-anything, and library books? And my dad, the brainiac rock scientist college teacher who has never lost a thing in his life except some of his hair? A
team
?
    “Never doubt it,” my father tells me, his voice suddenly serious. “So go on, EllRay. Bring that bad boy over here, and let’s open it up and take a look.”
    “Together,” I say.
    I like that word, too!

17
AN EXTRA-SPECIAL DAY
    It’s talent show day!
    When a day like your birthday is coming, it comes slow. But when a scary day like today comes, it comes fast. Why is that?
    I decided to perform “The Magic Flower Pot” and “The Jumbo Change Bag” illusions, and Dad helped me practice each of them for a long time last night. He was calm but serious, as if he had just discovered some amazing new crystal.
    I think it’s the longest time my dad and I ever spent together doing a me-thing.
    It was so cool.
    Still, the thought of doing my new illusions in front of the whole school makes me want to fall over like a tree that just got cut down in the forest. Timber-r-r! CLUNK .
    But big illusions are sometimes easier than thesmaller ones, we discovered. At least I won’t have to try to balance two quarters sideways between my still-very-short fingers.
    Should I tell the principal that I’m doing different illusions from the ones I did at the tryouts? I don’t think so.
    But I probably
will
have to get permission to have someone come up on stage with me. My dad says a magician usually calls this person “my lovely assistant,” so I guess it had better be a girl or a woman. But I’m not gonna call her “my lovely assistant,” that’s for sure.
    I mean, EW .
    “I made you some scrambled eggs,” my mom tells me at breakfast, smiling.
    “She made some for me, too,” Alfie pipes up from the kitchen table.
    “I don’t think I can eat,” I tell Mom, fidgeting with the buttons on the dress-up shirt she ironed for me last night. Why can’t I wear a regular T-shirt? It’s just kids who are going to see me perform!
    And
all the teachers, I remind myself, my heart starting to pound.
And
a bunch of parents.
    But does Mom really think I’ll still look thissharp by two o’clock this afternoon? She’s a dreamer! But I guess I already knew that. That’s probably what writers are.
    “You have to keep up your strength, EllRay,” Mom tells me, giving me a squeeze. “Today’s your big day.”
    “Don’t remind me,” I beg.
    “Today’s my big day, too,” Alfie says, since she hates being left out of anything. “I’m just as much a person as EllWay, Mom,” she continues. “We both come up to
here
, don’t we?” she says, patting the top of her head.
    Alfie can say these really goofy things and still make sense, in a way. “It’s her gift,” my dad sometimes tells Mom and me.
    “You’re right, honeybun,” my mom says, laughing. “But each of us gets an extra-special day every so often, and this one is EllRay’s. And the rest of us will help celebrate it. That’s what families do.”
    “
Mom
,” I say. Can’t she change the subject? I choke down a bite or two of scrambled eggs and then mess up the rest so it looks like I’ve eaten more. I cover what is left with half a piece of toast.
    “She means I’m coming to the talent show too,”Alfie informs me, her mouth full of eggs.
    “You
are
? Because it’s really not that big a deal,”