Free Prince of Air by Ann Hood

watched the magician do as he’d said: tie up his brother, put him in the trunk, lock the trunk.
    Next, he wheeled out a screen and placed it in front of the trunk.
    â€œSee, what’s gonna happen here,” he said, “is me and my brother are gonna change places, faster than youse can blink your eyes.”
    He stepped forward, his eyes seeming to pierce through the crowd.
    â€œWhen I clap my hands three times,” he said solemnly, “behold! A miracle!”
    The magician stepped behind the curtain and clapped his hands loudly.
    Once.
    The audience craned their necks in unison.
    Twice.
    They held their breaths.
    Three times.
    Out from behind the curtain came the red-haired taller brother, who slid the curtain back, unlocked the trunk, and out came the other Houdini brother.
    Stunned, the crowd did not utter a sound. They did not make a move. Silence covered the room.
    â€œMetamorphosis,” the dark-haired brother announced, lifting his arms in victory.
    After a few more seconds of silence, the audience finally applauded.
    The Brothers Houdini took their bows and left the stage.
    Maisie and Felix watched as a family of sword swallowers took their places.
    â€œWait a minute,” Felix said.
    Even though he got hushed again, he couldn’t be quiet. He grabbed his sister’s arm so that she would be certain to hear what he had to tell her.
    â€œThe handcuffs,” he said. “Houdini could escape from any handcuffs in the world. He was an escape artist.”
    Maisie let his words sink in.
    Then she said, “Let’s go.”
    â€œGo where?” Felix said, following her toward the exit.
    â€œTo find Harry Houdini,” Maisie said.

Surely the tall, red-haired brother was Harry Houdini, Felix decided as he and Maisie made their way to the back door where they’d been told the performers exited. That little guy had terrible grammar, and he looked so intense he scared Felix when his light-eyed stare seemed to briefly alight on him.
    â€œIf this Houdini guy is who we’re supposed to find,” Maisie said, pulling Felix’s tuxedo jacket tighter around her, “we could give him the handcuffs right away and be back at Elm Medona by bedtime.”
    She added, “
If
we had the handcuffs.”
    They reached the back door, and the strong man was just coming out. Up close in the harsh light above the door, he looked much older. His lined face was covered in thick orange pancake makeup, and he smelled like smoke.
    â€œExcuse me,” Maisie said to him. “Are the Houdini Brothers still in there?”
    â€œYeah, they’re in there,” he answered in a thick accent that sounded like Katya who worked at the Polish deli their father liked. “Practicing,” he said, shaking his head. “Always practicing. Especially that Ehrich. The other one, Dash, he just goes along with him.”
    â€œEhrich?” Felix said, confused. “Dash? There must be another Houdini brother then.”
    The strong man shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows? They live in Manhattan, up in the East Sixties. There might be a dozen Houdini brothers.”
    He waved good-bye with his large hand and walked away, getting swallowed up into the crowd of the amusement park.
    Maisie turned to Felix.
    â€œThese are the wrong Houdinis!” she said. “Now what? Are we supposed to find some other Houdinis?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Felix said, puzzled. “Maybe I was wrong and the handcuffs are supposed to go to someone else. It just seemed interesting that Great-Uncle Thorne told me about Harry Houdini and how he could escape from any pair of handcuffs
and
Great-Aunt Maisie was hiding these
and
we ended up at Coney Island at a magic show given by the Brothers Houdini
and
—”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Maisie said. “Everything adds up.”
    â€œExcept who are Ehrich and Dash Houdini?” Felix asked.
    â€œActually, it’s Dash