Free The Magic Cake Shop by Meika Hashimoto

FLOWER
    WATERFALL CREAM
    BABBLEBERRY JUICE
    FIREROCK POWDER—CAUTION: FLABBABLE
    “What in flames is
flabbable
?” asked Albie.
    “
Flammable
. The
m
on my typewriter wasn’t working the day I labeled my firerock powder, so I had to improvise.” Mr. Crackle paused over a nearly empty bottle. “We need biddle hegs.”
    As Mr. Crackle checked the recipe against his stock of ingredients, he called out the ones they needed tobuy. Emma wrote down “biddle hegs, burberry beans, a curled-up squid, gobs of trops, guzzle spleens, skibbly hoppy mead, sogs, the spizzle of a shick shack shree, a tickler’s thread, whingbuzzit legs, and a wibbly cobbyseed.”
    She hoped she had spelled their names right.

“
T hat should do it, except for the spiky hat, which neither the spice shop nor I have,” said Mr. Crackle as he glanced at the recipe a final time. “We’ll have to make it ourselves. Harrumph. I’ll probably poke myself grumpy.”
    Emma jumped. “I don’t think so—my parents gave me a prickled hat as a going-away present. It has cactus spines and everything.”
    Albie looked aghast. “Your parents gave you that cactus-prickled hat for a
going-away present
?!”
    Emma shrugged. “Mom and Dad said prickles are all the rage in Paris.”
    Mr. Crackle said slowly and carefully, “Emma, your parents are nitwits.”
    Emma smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Crackle.”
    “Now then. Let’s get this recipe cracking. Here’s the plan. You and Albie nip off to your uncle’s house and grab your prickled hat. While you’re there, you might as well bring that wooden backpack box you use for your uncle’sdesserts. Some of the ingredients we need must not be squished or they’ll explode. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do to translate this recipe into understandable English. And do please be speedy. I believe I can no longer taste the hint of peanut butter that was sticking on my tongue not a minute ago.”
    “We’ll be back in half an hour,” Emma declared.
    “Tops,” promised Albie.
    They grabbed their coats and hurried out the door as Mr. Crackle went upstairs to consult
The Encyclopedia of Eccentric Baking Terms
.

E mma and Albie raced down the main street, up the dirt driveway, and into Uncle Simon’s house. As they entered, they heard Uncle Simon and Maximus jabbering away in the living room. Albie tiptoed to the kitchen pantry, while Emma crept to her room. She crouched next to her bed and found the loathsome birthday hat in the darkest, dustiest corner. Gingerly she picked it up and immediately pricked her fingers. Gritting her teeth, she placed the hat into an empty cardboard box. When she exited her room, she found Albie, who had hauled the dessert box to the porch. “Let’s go!” he whispered.
    Emma got ready to hitch the box over her shoulders, but suddenly she stopped.
    She was staring at a pair of hunting boots and pointy white shoes on the front porch.
    Her fingers smarted. Her mind whirled.
    She opened the shoe box full of prickled hat. Shecarefully broke off a couple of spines and dropped them into Uncle Simon’s boots and Maximus Beedy’s shoes.
    Albie gave a quiet giggle. “That’ll get them hopping.” He peered into the shoes. “Hang on—those prickles won’t do any pricking lying flat. Let me spike them up a bit.”
    Emma grinned. “I’ll keep an eye out,” she whispered.
    “Will do,” Albie whispered back.
    Emma crept over to the living room window and took a quick peek inside. She saw Uncle Simon lounging on the couch in front of the television, stuffing himself with mashed liver and a box of chocolates. His bulging eyes were riveted to a show on meat marinades. Maximus Beedy perched stick-straight on a chair next to Uncle Simon. With one hand he dipped a small cloth into a jar of polish for his cane. As Maximus turned the cane, it reflected the sun onto the television screen.
    Uncle Simon snapped, “Beedy, if you don’t stop moving that blasted cane and interrupting my program, I