EllRay Jakes Is Magic (8 page)

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Authors: Sally Warner

BOOK: EllRay Jakes Is Magic
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BOOM. BOOM. BOOM
. The music starts up, and then the dancing starts—with kick backs, heel hops, and a lot of swag and foot action. Who knew Jared and Stanley had it in them? They’re not like Frankenstein’s Monster or the Mummy at all! They must have been taking lessons or something. Is that cheating?

Stanley’s got the “Stanky Legg” down cold. He’s keeping his knees bent really low, and it looks like he’s skating, his legs seem so rubbery and smooth. His feet never leave the floor. He’s keeping those moves clean. He looks sharp. Stanley! Of all people!

And Jared’s “Dougie” is good, too. He’s down low, and his feet are shifting just right. His arms are pumping and pushing perfectly, swinging loose as they chop through the air. They move so far behind him they seem to be about to wrap around his body. But he’s not grabbing himself, which would mean getting rejected for sure.

Stanley ends by taking hold of one foot and
hopping over it with his whole body—
almost.
He stumbles, but just a little.

At the same time, Jared ends with a little “Wheelchair” action, dropping, dropping his knees as he circles his arms. Then he falls to the stage and whirls around on one beefy shoulder for their combined big finish.

And “
Yay-y-y!
” we all cheer, clapping like crazy—partly because they were so good, and partly because we’re surprised. Stanley pulls Jared up off the floor, and they pretend bow and then shamble toward the stairs.

“Dude! Dude!” Kevin high-fives each of them as they take their seats again.

“All right. Settle down,” the principal says, smiling.

And we go on to our class’s next five acts.

To make a long story short, Fiona’s poem didn’t work out very well—though it started okay. “This is a poem I wrote called ‘The Death of Fuzzers,’ by Fiona McNulty,” she began. “Fuzzers was my hamster who passed away,” she explained, her eyes already filling with tears.

“Oh, darling Fuzzers, why did you have to go and die?

Are you now a furry angel way up in the sky?”

And that was about as far as she got before she started to sob.

I’ll admit that was entertaining for us kids, the boys, anyway, but I don’t think the judges liked it much. Miss Myrna had to go searching for some tissues, though.

Fiona and her weak ankles barely made it
down the stairs. Cynthia and Heather rushed over to help her to her seat, though, and Fiona looked happy about that. They patted her shoulders and whispered her back to normal.

Kevin’s jokes didn’t work out, either. He kept saying stuff like, “No, wait! I forgot to tell you that the man was a
clown
, see.” That kind of thing. And he
did
start laughing during his last joke, which came at the end of the longest three minutes in our earth’s history. I felt so bad for him.

But we all clapped anyway, and Kevin looked like he thought it went pretty well. He was still laughing at his last joke when he sat down.

Kry’s juggling act—complete with these two cotton balls the size of marshmallows—turned into a comedy act, really, because she couldn’t keep even the two cotton puffs in the air. But she talked the whole time she was trying to juggle, and she was so funny that the judges were laughing their heads off, even the little old guy with the white hair, who almost fell out of his seat. Ms. Sanchez had to grab him! He looked like he hadn’t laughed that hard in fifty years.

Kry finished with the biggest curtsy you ever
saw, and all us kids clapped hard as she came bouncing down the stairs.

The “Star-Spangled Banner” act was okay, except you could barely hear Cynthia’s puny singing voice over the blare of the CD Miss Myrna put on. And when Miss Myrna turned down the music, it got worse, because then you
could
hear Cynthia’s voice. Also, she kept repeating the same lines, which even I knew was wrong.

“And the rocket’s red glare!

And the rocket’s red glare
,

And the ro-o-ocket’s red glare
,

And the rocket’s red glare . . .”

The flag at the corner of the stage was too big and heavy for Heather to hold, so she stood behind Cynthia the whole time Cynthia sang,
pretending
to wave a flag, a serious and patriotic expression on her face. I was afraid she might cry, too, she was so into it.

“I’ll learn the real words for the show,” Cynthia announced to the judges after our polite spatter of applause was over.

But by that point, I was so nervous I could barely think straight.

Because
I was up next.

I got an old red pencil case—for my magic supplies—out of my lunch bag with cold, numb fingers, and I prepared to climb those stairs. Part of me had changed plans and wanted to get into the talent show after all, and part of me wanted to flub my tricks and get rejected, as planned.

But
all
of me wanted to get it over with.

The principal stood again as we clapped for Cynthia and Heather, who looked pink and happy—as if they thought they’d done a pretty good job.

“And finally, we have the magic that is EllRay Jakes,” the principal said, giving me a too-big introduction, considering what was in my little red pencil case. “So put your hands together for EllRay the Magnificent!”

Oh, great, I thought. Now I’m
magnificent
? Like I’m gonna be able to live that one down!

Man
, I was hoping I wouldn’t drop those quarters or accidentally cut the string.

11
THAT SPECIAL BOOK

It is Tuesday morning, and the lady in our school office just posted the list for Friday afternoon’s talent show on the bulletin board next to her office door.

I GOT IN THE SHOW
.

Oh. No.

Jared and Stanley got in, too. They are whooping and high-fiving each other like crazy in the hall, shouting “Dude” and “Dog!” while Kevin tells everyone who walks by the good news.

I feel numb from the top of my hair down to the end of my toenails.

See, I was so sure I
didn’t
get in. After I did my first trick, the lady judge with the blonde hair asked me if I could make my coin trick bigger, so people at the back of the audience could see it better. That’s when I lost the tiny piece of hope
about getting in I had secretly been holding onto, because—what did that lady think? That since I had created two quarters out of a dime in front of her very eyes, why not make two Frisbees out of a little round plate so kids in the back row could see the illusion better?

Yeah, lady! I can do my coin trick bigger—
when my hands grow giant-sized.

That’s what I should have said.

But I’m too polite, thanks to my parents.

Instead, I stared at my feet and shook my head
no.

“Well, it was a wonderful trick anyway,” she said, trying to cheer me up.

Luckily, nothing went wrong with the “Cut String Made Whole” illusion. And the blonde lady didn’t ask me if I could do it with a rope and a hose instead, so everyone could see better.

I guess I could,
if my hands were still huge, lady.

I was so
sure
I hadn’t gotten in!

“Congratulations, EllRay,” Emma says as Annie Pat smiles.

“Yeah,” Corey says. “I was really worried, but
I knew you’d do it, dude. Your tricks were awesome. As much as I could tell from the third row, anyway. Sorry I’m gonna miss the show,” he adds, looking sad.

“Thanks,” I croak.

“I couldn’t see your act very well,” Heather complains. “Especially your first trick. And I was in the
second
row.”

“I couldn’t see either one,” Kevin says. “But magic is cool, and so is EllRay. So it’s good he got in.”

Kevin is probably feeling generous because Jared and Stanley are so happy. I wish he was still my whole-best friend, instead of just being half-best. “Thanks,” I tell him, trying to smile.

Only four more days until the talent show, when almost no one will be able to see my lame illusions. But even though part of me is horrified I got in, another part is feeling tingly and warm, like something truly magical has happened.

I wish there was such a thing as real magic!

If I were a wizard, for example, I could truly astound even the biggest and hairiest sixth-grader on Friday—instead of doing two beginner’s tricks they either already know or won’t be able to see.

They’ll probably all be whispering and texting during my act, even though that’s not allowed.

Who cares? Not me.

And I kind of can’t wait to tell my dad I got in the show.

Maybe he’ll be proud of me!

“We’d better decide about that special book for Ms. Sanchez. You know, the one EllRay thought up,” Emma says during afternoon recess. Most of us are standing around the tetherball corner of the playground, though Jared and Stanley are trying to teach some guys a couple of hip-hop moves near the fence. “The wedding shower is this Friday, after the talent show,” Emma reminds us. “Fiona already said she’d do the cover.”

“I think I’ll draw Ms. Sanchez in her bride costume,” Fiona says, sounding shyer than she should for someone who is so good at art. “And I might glue real lace around the edges of the book.”

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