Philip and the Fortune Teller (9781619501317) (4 page)

“I know where the boxes go. You don’t. Kneel
down. Don’t always be arguing.”

Philip had a hundred reasons why Emery should
do the kneeling down this time, but it would take forever, he knew,
to convince his friend, and he didn’t want to take the time.

Finally, Philip grumbled, “Do it fast.”

“Fast as you can kneel down.”

Emery replaced the boxes the boys didn’t want
and climbed down. Philip picked up the box they did want.

“Let’s look inside,” he said.

Emery nodded, and Philip lifted the lid.

“Wow!” Philip said softly. All kinds of
jewelry filled the box. Lots of colored stones, red, blue, yellow,
green, white, decorated the jewelry.

“Where’s the magic scarab? See it?” Emery
asked.

“How do I know which one’s a scarab? Anyway,
we have no time for looking. Open the door.”

Emery opened the door and reset the little
knob before he closed it again.

“Uh oh,” Emery said and pointed. “Get back.”
The old woman sat on her porch rocking.

“Here, you take it,” said Philip, handing
Emery the box.

“You keep it.”

“We can’t walk out there carrying the box.
She’ll see and do her pointing thing, and we’ll both end up down
the sewer. Look, let’s hide the box in the bushes. If we take it
now, one of her neighbors may see us with the box and tell her
about it. We were going to come back here tonight anyway after we
broke the window. We’ll come back when it’s dark and get the box.
We’ll have time. Then we can hide it someplace closer to the
circus, and tomorrow we can deliver it to the gypsy.”

“Okay. Shove it in there.”

Philip got on his knees.

“Shove it in as far as it can go. We don’t
want anybody to find it before we come back.”

Philip got to his feet.

“Let’s go through the bushes and come out
further down,” Philip suggested. “And look out for nosy
neighbors.”

Emery peeked around the garage. “She’s still
there. Let’s climb through.”

The boys pushed their way through the bushes
and came back onto the sidewalk well down the block. A man dragging
his trash can to the curb waved to them, and they returned the
wave. They looked back and saw the old lady still rocking. They
glanced nervously at one another and headed off to see the
circus.

The boys enjoyed the circus, especially the
motorcycles that roared around inside a giant ball, just missing
each other as they zipped in and out and up and down in wild
circles. When, at the end of the show, the man flew out of the
cannon and sailed across the whole circus tent into a big net,
Philip and Emery scooted. They knew they needed to beat the crowd
leaving the tent. They had only twenty-four minutes before they had
to meet Philip’s father.

“Make sure we don’t run into your father as
we leave,” Emery said, trying to keep up. An elephant walked in
front of them, and the boys paused outside the tent of the gypsy.
They watched a woman step outside, pause, and pat the front of her
dress. She spun in a circle, looking around on the ground. The
elephant passed, and the boys hurried on to Van Kirk Street.

“Oh, no,” Philip said. “Look, she’s on her
porch.”

“Yeah, but it’s dark. We can get the box
without her seeing. Go ahead.”

Philip turned to his friend.

“
We
can get it.
I
should go
ahead?”

“Yeah. You know where you put the box, not
me.”

Philip looked for a way to argue, but Emery
had him again.

Emery went on, “I’ll keep an eye on the old
lady.”

“If she comes, you say, ‘Here comes the
witch.’ Okay?” Philip got down on his knees.

“Right. Here comes the witch.”

Philip leaped up.

“What are you doing?” Emery asked. “Get back
down there.”

“You said, ‘Here comes the witch.’ Is she
coming?”

“No, I was just practicing. She’s still
rocking.”

“Well, why did you say, ‘Here comes the
witch’ then?”

“Will you get the box, for Pete’s sake?”

“Don’t say anything unless she’s really
coming.”

“I won’t. Go.”

Philip got back onto his knees and crawled
forward. He took out his little flashlight and shot its beam into
the bushes. He found the box and pulled it out.

“Philip, she stood up,” Emery whispered.

Philip got to his feet, and together they
peeked around the garage.

“She’s lifting her arm,” Philip said with a
shaky voice. “She can feel we have the box! She knows! She knows!
She’s gonna put us down the sewer!”

“Listen!”

In the distance, the boys heard a siren.

“You think she can call the police by lifting
her arm?” Emery asked softly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Headlights and sirens turned onto Van Kirk
Street. The boys stood frozen in fear as two police cars raced
by.

“They missed us,” Emery said. “Maybe the old
lady’s arm is crooked and her aim is off. Run before they come
back.”

Philip hurried away, Emery at his
shoulder.

Two blocks later they slowed, and Emery
asked, “Where’ll we put the box this time? In Mrs. Logan’s
bushes?”

“We don’t have time. We better find a place
around here where it’s dark. Near the circus there’ll be lots of
lights and lots of people. How about there?”

Philip indicated a corner store, closed at
the moment, but which had an unlit outdoor staircase along the side
wall. He walked to the staircase and put the box under the first
step. Then he pulled two trashcans under the staircase to block the
view of anyone going by.

“I guess it’s okay there,” said Emery. “But
we better come by first thing in the morning when the store opens
and get it.”

“Come get me as early as you can.”

“I will, but the circus doesn’t open until
noon.”

“We’ll get the box and take it with us. At
noon we’ll go and give it to the gypsy.”

“Okay. Let’s go meet your father. How much
time we got?”

Philip checked his watch. “Seven
minutes.”

The boys ran back toward the circus
grounds.

The next morning, Philip and Emery found the
box exactly where they’d left it, and Philip put the box inside a
plastic bag he’d thought to bring along.

“People will think we went to the
supermarket,” he reasoned with Emery.

“Now what?”

“Now we can hide in Mrs. Logan’s bushes until
it’s time to leave for the circus.”

“Good. We can’t be too careful. Three wishes!
This will be so great.”

The boys slipped into their hideout and sat
down, the valuable plastic bag between them.

“Did you think more about what you’ll do with
your wish?” Emery asked dreamily.

“What do you mean my
wish
? We have
three wishes.”

“Yeah, but you can’t divide three in
half.”

“So you get two wishes?”

“I found the wishes, didn’t I? The gypsy gave
them to me first.”

“So what? I did everything you did. I did
more
.
You
got to stand on me;
I
didn’t stand
on you.
I
crawled under the bush to hide the box, not you;
I
got the box back out, not you;
I
brought the
plastic bag, not you. I did
everything
!”

“Yeah, but the gypsy gave me the wishes
first, not you,” Emery repeated. “Anyway, a plastic bag’s
nothing.”

“But you were
afraid
to do it
yourself. You wouldn’t have
any
wishes if I didn’t do
everything.”

“And you wouldn’t have any wishes if I didn’t
let you know about it. Besides, you didn’t do everything,” Emery
replied. “I found the box in the garage, didn’t I?”

“Because you were standing on me! If you
didn’t stand on me, you wouldn’t have found the box. Let’s split
one wish.”

“Split it? How?”

“Let’s ask for something we can share. Like
let’s ask for a million dollars. Then you can take half, and I can
take half.”

Emery considered. “How can we carry half of a
million dollars into the house?”

Philip didn’t respond.

“Well?” Emery insisted.

“I don’t know. Let me think.” A few quiet
minutes went by. “How about we wish that when we’re twenty-one
years old, a
million
dollars shows up in each of our bank
accounts. We should have bank accounts of our own by then, don’t
you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Great idea. How about your other
wish?”

More quiet minutes went by as the two boys
thought things over.

“How about you?” Philip asked. “And don’t
waste it on something dumb like getting good marks in school.”

“I am going to wish that I never hear my
sisters cry again. Or even talk to me when they learn to talk. That
would be
great
! That would keep me happy until I was
twenty-one, and then the money will show up in my bank account to
keep me happy after that.”

Philip nodded. It made sense to him.

“Now you,” said Emery.

“I think I’ll wish that I never even
get
a brother or sister. That way there’ll be nobody to
bother me the way your sisters bother you. Then
I’ll
be
happy until the money shows up.”

“Great idea,” Emery agreed. The boys lapsed
into dreamy silence as they contemplated their glorious futures,
and the minutes slipped by.

The gypsy and the pharaoh sat talking outside
the gypsy’s tent when Philip and Emery arrived. The two men rose in
anticipation.

Philip held out the plastic bag. “We got it,”
he said proudly.

“Shhhh!” the gypsy counseled. “Come
inside.”

The boys followed the men into the tent.
Philip handed over the box. The gypsy took it out of the plastic
bag and shared a smile with the pharaoh. He opened the box and ran
his fingers over the jewelry. He took another piece of jewelry from
somewhere in his sleeve and put it into the box before closing the
lid and sliding the box under his cot.

“You did well,” said the gypsy, pronouncing
well as
vell.

“Very well,” the pharaoh agreed.

“Can we have our wishes now?” Emery
asked.

“Your wishes? Ah, yes of course,” said the
gypsy. He stepped outside and came back in holding his creamy glass
ball. “Place your hands on the crystal ball,” he said slowly.
“Close your eyes.”

Philip and Emery obeyed. Philip thought he
heard a snort and a gurgle from the two men, but he didn’t dare
open his eyes. He listened to the gypsy say words in a strange
language.

“There you are,” said the gypsy. “You may
open your eyes. The three wishes are yours. But you had better
listen to Achmed. He has a story to tell you.”

“A story?” Philip repeated.

“I had better take the boys to my tent,” said
Achmed softly.

“They would be safer that way,” Bela
agreed.

“S . . . safer?” Emery sputtered.

“Come with me.” Achmed rose, and the boys
followed him across the midway to his tent. He lifted the flap, and
the boys entered. Achmed followed them inside, dropping the flap
behind him. The tent was dark with the flap closed, so Achmed put
two tall candles on a small square table and lit them. The candle
flames sent wriggling shadows dancing across the tent walls and
along the floor.

“Sit,” Achmed ordered. “Sit and listen
carefully.”

“What do we have to listen to?” Philip asked
in a hushed voice.

The pharaoh stared briefly at Philip with his
large, round eyes before pulling a chair up near the boys.

“A wish is a powerful thing. It cannot be
taken lightly. You and you now have three wishes. Before you do
anything with them I must tell you of people I once knew. They,
like you, performed an important service for the gypsy. They, like
you, received three wishes in return. They were a poor couple who
could not survive without the help of their grown son, who worked
in a factory and always gave them some money to help them pay their
bills and buy food. The old couple talked for days about what they
should do with their three wishes, and do you know what they
decided?”

The pharaoh stared at the boys, waiting for
an answer.

“No,” Philip squeaked.

The pharaoh’s eyes widened. “They . . . chose
. . . money! They wanted to relieve their son of the burden of
supporting them, so they wished for a lot of money. One minute
after the man spoke their wish aloud, the telephone rang. The old
man answered it. The president of the company for which his son
worked was on the line telling him that his son had fallen into the
machinery and was no more. He was gone forever.” The pharaoh’s
voice had risen steadily as he related the fate of the young man.
“Do you know what that means?” he asked.

Emery cleared his throat. “Uh, it means he
died?”

“Yes! But then the president of the company
said something that sent horrible chills through the heart of the
old man. He said the company’s insurance policy would pay them five
hundred thousand dollars because of the accident! They had gotten
the money they’d wished for! When the old man reported the horrible
news to his wife, his wife nearly went insane. ‘We wished our son’s
death. We killed our own son,’ she moaned. She and her husband were
torn apart by the realization that their wish for wealth came true
at the expense of the life of their only son.”

The gypsy paused, and Philip reminded himself
to breathe.

“What then?” Emery whispered.

“They still had two wishes, and the old woman
knew exactly what to wish for. She wanted her son back. The old man
agreed. If the first wish came true, so would the second one. That
very night they sat in the dark at their dining room table. This
time the woman spoke the wish out loud. ‘I wish to have my son
back.’ They waited. The night was quiet; as quiet as a tomb. Only
eight minutes later they heard the sound of something being dragged
through the street toward their house. They heard a scraping sound
and then a pause. Scrape. Pause. Something approached their front
door! Louder and louder; nearer and nearer came the scraping sound.
Then it stopped. Right outside their door! Then RAP! One solitary
knock on their door. The old woman leaped up. ‘My son,’ she
screamed. RAP! Another lonely knock. The woman started to the door,
but her husband was wiser. He realized what his wife did not. Her
wish had come true! Too true. He grabbed his wife and would not let
her go near the door. The wife screamed to be let free to see her
son again. RAP!”