As Amy was leaving the first meeting of the magic club, Mr. Carlson stopped her.
"I noticed that you seemed nervous about performing," the teacher said kindly. "You know, some people are really good at mastering the mechanics of a trick, while others are better at performing. It's the rare kid who's a skilled magician and a spellbinding performer."
Amy nervously shifted her backpack from one shoulder to the other. "Ugh," she thought. "Here comes another lecture on being more outgoing." Everyone—from her parents to her teachers to Megan—was always telling her that she needed to be bolder and speak up more.
"I watched how you were palming that card," Mr. Carlson said. "That takes a lot of skill. How did you learn to do that?"
Amy was puzzled by such an obvious question. "Practice, of course."
"That's exactly how you learn to be a better performer," Mr. Carlson went on. "I also saw that some of the boys weren't exactly welcoming you. What if you could use your fear of performing to your advantage? I think you could impress the boys at the same time. Are you familiar with the trick where you pass a coin through a table?"
"Oh, yeah!" Amy's eyes lit up with excitement. "I did that at a restaurant once to keep my little cousin amused while we were waiting for dinner."
"If you can do that trick well, the boys might start giving you more respect. It's often done at a dining table. But you could use my desk."
Amy looked at the jumble of papers, books, and office supplies covering her teacher's desk. She laughed. "I guess you'll have to clean it off first!"
The idea behind the coin trick was simple, but it required split-second timing. At the restaurant a saltshaker had played a key role; for school Amy decided to substitute Mr. Carlson's coffee cup. Over the next week, she practiced every spare moment. Mr. Carlson helped her to develop some patter. That was the magicians' word for the story that accompanies a trick.
At the next magic club meeting, Amy was nervous about the idea of outwitting the boys. But she also felt excited. If the trick went well, it would be fun to see their faces.
She sat behind Mr. Carlson's desk, which he had cleaned off. On the surface she placed a nickel and his coffee cup.
First, she rapped on his desk to show that it was solid. "Every day Mr. Carlson sits at this desk, correcting math homework. Little does he realize that it's more than a desk. It's actually a portal, a gateway that objects can pass through."
Amy looked at the boys, who were now staring at the gray metal desk. "All he needs is this magic poncho!" With a flourish, she laid a paper napkin on the desk.
Everyone laughed, but this time the boys weren't laughing at her. They were laughing at the "magic poncho" prop.
"I will now use this cup and this magic poncho to make this coin pass through the desk."
Amy covered the coin with the cup and then placed the napkin over the cup. She closed her eyes, waved her hands in circles, and tapped the cup. Her eyes flew open. She took a breath and reached for the cup.
The nickel was still there.
"I knew she couldn't do it." Frank smirked and looked at the other boys.
"Oh no! That didn't work!" Amy appeared flustered. But as she glanced at Mr. Carlson, he winked at her. They both knew this was part of the act. "Oh, please, Mr. Carlson. Let me try that again. I know I can do it right."
"Well, I don't know . . ." Mr. Carlson hesitated. The boys looked back and forth between the teacher and Amy, who seemed on the verge of tears. "All right. One more time, but that's it."
Amy placed the coin under the cup and the cup under the napkin. She closed her eyes, waved her hands in circles, and tapped the cup. As her eyes popped open, she slammed her hand on the napkin-covered cup. She lifted the napkin. The coin was still there, but the cup was gone.
"Ahh!" the boys gasped.
"Sorry, Mr. Carlson." Amy pulled his coffee cup from under the desk. "I guess that portal only works for cups!"
The boys broke into applause. Even Frank admitted it was a pretty good trick. "Do it again," he demanded.
"Oh, no," Mr. Carlson said. "Never repeat a trick. Surprise is one of the elements that make a trick work. If you repeat it, people will be watching to see how it's done."
"Besides"—Amy grinned—"a magician never reveals her secrets."
Every week Mr. Carlson taught the kids a new trick and had them perform the previous week's trick. Frank usually performed best when they first learned a trick. But Amy was the one who always mastered the trick. That was because, unlike Frank, she went home and practiced until she could do the trick effortlessly. Meanwhile poor Brett struggled, and Amy tried to help him.
As the weeks passed, Amy began to look forward to magic club. She got better at making up patter for the tricks. But she still wasn't comfortable talking to any of the boys except Brett. Until someone arrived unexpectedly one afternoon.
The club was in the middle of a meeting when Megan burst through the door. "I just quit the musical!" she announced breathlessly. "Ms. Patel—she's the director—didn't think I was serious enough! Can you believe that? She said I was always talking. And she was mad that I missed two rehearsals in a row!"
All the boys were staring wide-eyed at Megan. Mr. Carlson started to speak. "Well—"
"Ms. Patel gave my part to somebody else and put me in the chorus. It's so unfair! I've had more years of voice and dance lessons than everybody else combined! So I quit. And now I can join magic club!" Megan flopped into a seat.
"Well, the more the merrier," Mr. Carlson said. "Welcome!"
Frank rolled his eyes and muttered, "Another girl magician."
Amy broke into a grin. Now there was another girl in the club, and she wasn't just any girl. She was Amy's best friend.