The Wrong Side of Magic

 

Begin Reading

Table of Contents

About the Author

Copyright Page

 

Thank you for buying this

Feiwel and Friends ebook.

 

To receive special offers, bonus content,

and info on new releases and other great reads,

sign up for our newsletters.

 

Or visit us online at

us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup

 

For email updates on the author, click
here
.

 

The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way.
Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author's copyright, please notify the publisher at:
us.macmillanusa.com/piracy
.

 

To Norton Juster, who wrote my favorite childhood book,
The Phantom Tollbooth
. Also to Michael Kuykendall, my fifth-grade teacher, who read the book to our class. You opened up a world of magic to so many people!

 

1

SOMETIMES MAGIC SNEAKS
up on a person like a sudden rainstorm, or bad news, or a mugger wearing really quiet shoes. That's what happened to Hudson Brown. He was an average eighth grader, with average brown hair that usually needed to be cut and average brown eyes that didn't always pay attention to his teachers. He lived in an average bedroom that needed to be cleaned and had average friends—many of whom also needed to be cleaned.

In short, Hudson was the type who hadn't believed in magic for years. Truth be told, magic hadn't believed in Hudson for even longer, but boys are often getting tangled in trouble, and Hudson was no exception. Except his trouble involved trolls, wizards, and several other things that wanted to kill him.

It started with a cat. Many problems do, which is why dogs, mice, and grumpy old men don't like them.

Hudson's little sister, Bonnie, however, adored them. Cats, that is, not grumpy old men. When she found a stray kitten cowering in the bushes near their house, it was love at first drag-a-furry-black-creature-out-of-the-junipers-so-she-could-tell-what-it-was sight. Bonnie brought the kitten inside, fed her tuna casserole, and named her Sunshine.

She begged their mother to let Sunshine be their official pet. (Bonnie occasionally captured bugs and made them unofficial pets.)

Perhaps their mother didn't turn the cat away because she was tired of Bonnie bringing crickets and spiders inside, some of which later escaped into unknown parts of the house. Or perhaps their mother relented because Sunshine actually liked her tuna casserole, whereas Bonnie and Hudson only poked at it whenever it was put on their plates.

The important thing was, Sunshine stayed.

The cat spent the next week pouncing, purring, and attempting to change everyone's hearts into soft, kitten-shaped objects. Then just as abruptly, Sunshine got sick and hardly ate for two days. She lay among the unmade covers of Bonnie's bed in a limp, pathetic heap.

On the third morning, Hudson woke to the sound of Bonnie in the kitchen pleading with their mother. “Can we take her to the vet? I'll pay for it. I've got eighteen dollars.”

Dishes clanked about in the sink noisily. Mrs. Brown made a daily heroic attempt to keep the kitchen clean. “A vet wouldn't pet your cat for eighteen dollars. Maybe we should bring her to a shelter and let them take care of her.”

“But I love Sunshine. I'll earn more money and pay you back.”

Mrs. Brown let out a grunt. “Honey, vet bills can be thousands of dollars. Besides, I hardly have the time to take
you
to the doctor when you're sick. I can just imagine what my manager would say if I asked for time off for a stray cat.”

“Pleeeeease?” Bonnie insisted. No one could drag out a word like Bonnie could.

The dishwasher snapped shut. “I've got to get ready for work. Wake up Hudson and tell him to get a move on, or you'll both be late for school.”

Hudson pulled himself out of bed and staggered into the shower. By the time he walked into the kitchen, his mother was picking up her jacket and purse, about to go out the door.

Mrs. Brown was tall, with curly brown hair that she pinned up when she went to work. She was pretty in a motherly way, no-nonsense in every other way. She never wore the sorts of clothes you saw on department-store mannequins. No frills or bling. And her philosophy on shoes was: If a woman couldn't comfortably run after a bus in them, there was no point in buying them.

Bonnie stood by the table, the kitten in her arms and a worried frown on her face.

Mrs. Brown walked over to Hudson and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You have a good day at school.” Next, she went to Bonnie, kissed her on the head, and smoothed down Bonnie's hair. “The cat will probably get better on her own.”

Bonnie didn't answer, just petted Sunshine's ears.

Their mother sighed and gave Bonnie an extra kiss. “You have a good day at school, too.”

As their mother slipped on her jacket, she asked her usual morning question. “And why do you need a good education?”

Bonnie gave the standard answer. “So we can have jobs where we don't have to listen to people complain all day.”

“That's right, baby.” Mrs. Brown gave them one last wave before she headed out the door. Ever since Mr. Brown's Marine unit had deployed overseas, she'd worked in customer service at a department store.

Bonnie opened a can of wet cat food and sat down at the table with Sunshine cradled in her arms. Using one of her doll spoons, she tried to slip food into the kitten's mouth. Mostly she just managed to get fish-smelling mush all over Sunshine's fur.

Hudson walked to the cupboard and took out a cereal bowl. “Bonnie, what are you doing that for?”

“She's got to eat something or she'll die.”

And if Bonnie didn't eat breakfast, she'd be hungry later. He didn't tell her this. She didn't listen to him when he said anything that sounded vaguely parental. Which made Hudson's job twice as hard. His mom had put him in charge of making sure Bonnie got to school on time, walking her home afterward, and helping her with her homework.

He sat down, placed a bowl in front of Bonnie, and poured her a bowl of generic Cheerios. Their mom never bought the real kind. She bought the cheap brand in the big bags that were shoved on the bottom shelf of the cereal aisle. Generic might not be so bad if she bought the generic Froot Loops, but she said those had too much sugar. She only bought cheap and healthy stuff, which was never going to be a good combination.

Hudson poured the milk on his and Bonnie's cereal, then dumped spoonfuls of sugar on the floating circles. They bobbed around his bowl, and he pretended they were fleeing from his spoon with their little mouths opened in O's of horrified surprise. “No one escapes the spoon of death,” he told Bonnie, and shoveled a dripping pile from his bowl.

Bonnie ignored him and kept trying to feed Sunshine. By the time they had to leave for school, she'd managed to get cat food on the table, the floor, and all over the kitten's black fur. “Well,” he said, “at least if she licks herself off, she'll get some nutrients.”

“We have to get money for a vet.” Bonnie's eyes were big and full of eight-year-old innocence. She had the sort of adorable little-girl face you saw on the cover of parenting magazines. “We could rob a bank,” she said hopefully.

“No, no, we couldn't.” Hudson took the breakfast dishes to the sink. He had fifty-five dollars stashed in his sock drawer. Money he'd earned last summer mowing lawns. He was saving up for a gaming system. “I can give you ten dollars.”

Bonnie blinked at him sadly. She knew it wasn't enough.

“Okay,” he said, “twenty.”

“Won't Sunshine need some medicine?”

“I'll ask around and see if anyone needs yard work done.…”

“I could mow lawns, too,” she said, just as enthusiastic about this possibility as about robbing banks.

“You're too young. Lawn mowers eat eight-year-olds.”

Bonnie laid a dish towel in their mother's biggest mixing bowl and set the kitten inside to rest. Hudson didn't point out that this new sleeping arrangement wouldn't make their mother happy.

He picked up his backpack. “If your cat dies in that bowl, I'm never eating out of it again.”

Bonnie set the bowl near the front door and cooed at the kitten. “We'll take you to the vet after school, Sunshine. 'Cause I'm robbing a bank on the way home.”

Hudson let out a sigh. The money in his sock drawer was in serious danger. Sometimes it was easier to give in to Bonnie than to argue with her or keep her out of trouble.

Then again, maybe he could put some of her cuteness to good use. It was, after all, her best asset. Hudson turned the idea around in his mind. “I know how we can make some money,” he said. “After school, we can go to a busy intersection somewhere, wash people's car windows, and then ask for a donation for your sick kitten.”

Cute kid plus sick kitten: irresistible. And much better than taking up a life of crime.

Bonnie brightened at the idea. “Mom will be so surprised.”

Yeah. And mortified, too. Their mother expected many things from her children. Panhandling wasn't on that list.

Bonnie ran to the laundry room and came back with a squeegee and an empty bucket. “We can do it right after school. There are lots of cars around then.”

While Bonnie swung the bucket back and forth, Hudson tucked the squeegee into her backpack. “Mom probably shouldn't know about this.”

They headed down the sidewalk toward the school. The early-November morning was whispering of winter in a way that made you keep your hands in your pockets and wish for afternoon sun. Hudson didn't mind. Winter could go ahead and shout, for all he cared. Cold meant Thanksgiving was almost here, and his dad had said he would be home for it.