“—such thing,” Mr. Vernon finished for him. “Yes, yes, you’ve said as much. I respectfully disagree. Look around you. I’ve tried to create a sense of wonder for those who step across my threshold. Do you not feel it?”
Carter did feel it. But it made him uncomfortable that this stranger could read him like a book.
Nodding, Leila piped up again. “I saw his face when he walked through the door. He definitely feels the wonder.”
Carter crossed his arms and pursed his lips.
“Still with the gruff demeanor and dark outlook, I see,” Mr. Vernon said. “Very well. Not everyone need be cheerful all the time. Magic accepts all kinds. I’m happy you’re here. I was just telling my daughter about you.”
“How are you two related? You don’t look anything alike,” Carter noted. Leila’s golden-hued complexion suddenly turned pink. Carter immediately wished he could take the words back; he hadn’t meant to embarrass anyone.
“Families come in all different shapes and sizes,” Mr. Vernon commented as he pulled a feather duster out of nowhere and began cleaning a shelf that didn’t look like it needed cleaning. “Like a snowflake or a thumbprint, no two look alike.”
“Plus, I’m adopted,” Leila clarified with a grin. She pulled a pair of handcuffs from the counter and locked them onto her own wrists. “But I was rather lucky ending up with someone who understands my need to escape. I was good at it before, but since I came here, my dad’s taught me all sorts of ways to do it better.”
“Luck? Don’t you mean magic?” Mr. Vernon smiled, tugging at Leila’s handcuffs to show they were on securely.
“I prefer to think of it as fate,” Leila reasoned.
A spark awoke in Carter. Fate. That’s what he’d felt had brought him to this town too. He’d sensed it while climbing to the roof of the train car, and it had only grown as his uncle disappeared into the distance.
Leila walked over to Carter and clapped her hands. When Carter looked down, the handcuffs were on his wrists.
“How’d you do that?” Carter asked. He knew plenty of tricks, but already he could tell these people were experts compared to him.
“Escape artist,” Leila said in a pointed whisper, “remember?”
The tiny bell on the door rang again as a bearded man with dark eyes and a handsome smile entered.
The parrot squawked, repeating, “Hello, Carter. Welcome to Vernon’s Magic Shop.”
Carter laughed. “So it wasn’t magic! You just taught the bird to say that to everyone who walked in today.”
Mr. Vernon shrugged, trying not to laugh. “Did I?”
“Hello, Carter,” the other man said. “I’m Mr. Vernon.”
Carter looked from Mr. Vernon to the second Mr. Vernon. They looked nothing alike either. The second Mr. Vernon was several inches shorter than his counterpart, and wore glasses. His trimmed beard covered the bottom half of his face, which shone in the morning light that streamed through the shop windows. He was dressed in a stained white jacket that had two rows of shiny buttons running up the front, and his pants were checkered black and white.
Seeing Carter’s confusion, Leila explained, “I have two dads.” She rushed over to this new man and kissed his cheek. “Hi, Poppa!”
“I don’t even have one parent,” Carter said. “You’re lucky.”
“You can call me the Other Mr. Vernon,” Leila’s second dad said to Carter. “Everyone does… well, except for Leila here. I don’t do magic—except in the kitchen.”
“You make food disappear?” Carter asked.
“No, he’s a cook. I’m the one who makes food disappear,” Leila said, rubbing her stomach.
“He’s not simply a cook,” Mr. Vernon noted. “He is the head chef at the Grand Oak Resort. You might have noticed it overlooking our town.”
“It’s a beautiful resort—usually,” the Other Mr. Vernon explained. “Ever since that B. B. Bosso and his crew checked in, they’ve been making an absolute mess of everything. Demanding food when the kitchen is closed, raiding the pantries after hours, behaving like beasts. Those vagabonds are absolute animals.”
Carter cringed at the word vagabond—which means a person who wanders from place to place without a home or a job. Carter had been called a vagabond—many times.
Mr. Vernon threw a harsh glance at the Other Mr. Vernon, then quickly added, “Carter, did you know that the famous illusionist P. T. Selbit grew up without a roof over his head? They say it gave him the drive to be a successful magician.”
The Other Mr. Vernon ducked behind the counter, scanning the area. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I forgot my key. Where is that thing?”
“Is this it?” Leila asked, holding up a key at the center of a series of knots and bound rope.
“Would you mind?” the Other Mr. Vernon asked, putting his hand out.
Leila—in less than two seconds—unknotted the ropes and placed the key in her father’s hand. She kept the rope for herself. Carter couldn’t believe his eyes. Her hands were as fast as his own.
“Thank you very much,” the Other Mr. Vernon said. He kissed his daughter on the forehead and waved politely to Carter as he stepped outside. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oooh, this rope gives me an idea for a trick I’d like to practice!” Leila smiled.
“Brilliant. But perhaps after school,” Mr. Vernon said. “Shouldn’t you be on your way, young lady?”
Leila’s confident smile slipped into a frown. “Carter’s not on his way to school.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing that you’re not Carter.”
“I—I’m between schools right now,” Carter blurted out.
Thankfully, Leila ignored this. “May I take the day off?” she asked her father.
“A day off from school?” Mr. Vernon raised a pointy white eyebrow. “Whatever for, my darling daughter?”
“It’s been a tough week. The other kids…” Leila said quietly. “They just don’t… understand me.”
“If you can escape a straitjacket,” said Mr. Vernon, “I’m sure you can find some way to impress one or two of your classmates. And if not, just tie them to their chairs!”
“Believe it or not, most kids don’t like hearing about how to escape,” Leila explained. “That’s the problem: I offered to show them how it all works, but now none of the girls will let me sit with them at lunch! And the boys, they just laugh at me in the hallways and call me Freak.”
“Freak?” Mr. Vernon echoed, appalled. “Maybe chivalry is dead.”
Leila rolled her eyes. “Don’t you mean, chivalry is dumb?”
“You could always try disappearing instead,” said Carter. “That’s helped me get out of tons of predicaments.”
Leila laughed. “Well, I am in a predicament.” Sighing, she added, “I’ll give it a shot.” She walked over to her dad and hugged him. As she passed Carter, she stuck out her hand again. “A pleasure to meet you. See you soon?”
Carter shook her hand. “I hope so.”
Then Carter and Mr. Vernon were alone. Mr. Vernon continued to dust his totally clean shop. Without looking, he asked, “Tell me, Mr. Carter, how was the remainder of your evening? Uneventful, I hope?”
“Bosso tried to get me to join his gang,” Carter admitted. “I said no.”
“Brilliant.”