Neil Patrick Harris - The Magic Misfits 2

“Why do you travel so much?” asked Carter between slurps of iced tea. “Your job, I mean. What do you do?”

“Aha. Well, it just so happens that I’m a stage psychic. I perform in front of huge audiences all around the country.” The Misfits went silent, holding their breath. They stared at Sandra as if she’d just told them that she was the first woman to walk on the moon. “Maybe you’ve heard of me? I go by the name Madame Esmeralda.”

“ The Madame Esmeralda?” Theo asked. “I thought you looked familiar. Your posters are in some of the theatres where my father conducts his symphony.”

“I’ve never met a famous person before,” said Carter.

“Famous?” Sandra laughed. “I suppose I am – though only a little bit . It’s a fun job. I get to meet lots of people and see the best sights.”

“I always thought psychic people were a myth,” said Ridley, her brows furrowed. “Are you really psychic, or do you just pretend to be?”

“Ridley!” Leila whispered through her teeth. “That’s not nice!”

“It’s okay, Leila,” said Sandra. “It’s a question that everyone wonders. At least your friend is honest enough to ask. But yes, I read vibrational energies of people, places, and things, and I perceive information about past, present, or even future events.”

“But how ?” Ridley pressed. “Do you use tarot cards? Numerology? Astrology? Palmistry?” The other Misfits looked at Ridley as if she was spouting nonsense. She scowled, “ What? When I was researching John Nevil Maskelyne, I spent time looking at some of Mr Vernon’s books about mindreading here at the shop. There are so many types of psychics: precognitors, who claim to predict the future; telepaths will read your mind; telekinesists move matter with their brains. All quite different. Though most of them are fraudulent .”

Sandra didn’t bat an eye. Instead, she sipped her tea politely.

“How do you identify yourself ?” Ridley asked.

“I’m what some would call a clairvoyant ,” said Sandra.

“What’s that?” asked Carter.

“It means that I receive little messages about people, and then I let those people know what they need to know.”

Leila flinched. “Little messages? From who?”

“Most clairvoyants would say the messages come directly from a spirit guide ,” said Sandra. “The spirit guide whispers secrets in our ears, and we share that information with people who need help.”

“So you talk to ghosts?” Ridley insisted. “Are the ghostly messages real?”

Sandra pursed her lips mysteriously.

Mr Vernon grabbed the handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and used it to dab the corners of his mouth. Then he went to shove the kerchief back into the pocket, but another one had already popped up to take its place. Mr Vernon pulled that one from the pocket too. And another kerchief appeared. He yanked five more kerchiefs from his jacket, dropping them all into his lap with a baffled look. The kids laughed. “The proof is in the pudding,” Mr Vernon said finally.

“What’s that mean?” Ridley asked.

“If it looks like pudding and tastes like pudding, it’s likely to be pudding?” Mr Vernon didn’t seem sure.

“That is not what it means,” Theo said. “The adage means you have to try out a new thing for yourself to know whether you like it or not.”

“That’s not how I understood it,” Carter said. “I thought it meant you could only declare something a success after it has been tried out.”

“I thought it meant ‘ Trust me, the pudding is good ,’” Leila said.

“Oh, all pudding is good,” said Olly. “Especially chocolate and butterscotch. Yum!”

“But only after Mum removes the gross, leathery skin that forms on top,” added Izzy. “Or else Olly won’t touch it.”

Mr Vernon laughed. “I guess old sayings are just like magic. It’s all in the interpretations. People take what they want from it.” He scooped up the extra kerchiefs from his lap and bunched them into one fist. With his other hand, he tugged the edge of one until it flopped loosely between his fingers. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he whipped a single kerchief from his fist and held it up. All the other kerchiefs were gone. The Misfits gasped and then chuckled. “Psychics are like magicians, Ridley. It often doesn’t matter whether or not the magician is pretending. What matters is what the audience believes.”

Ridley turned back to Sandra. “So then, to be psychic, you just have to make people believe that you are?”

Sandra’s eyes twinkled. Leila recognized a glimmer of her dad’s own mischief. No wonder they’d been close friends once upon a time. “Something like that,” Sandra answered. With a wry grin, she added, “How do you know I’m not actually psychic, Dante?”

“Are you?” he asked.

She lowered her voice to a spooky cosmic tone and said, “ I’ve learned much since we were young. ” She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers and moaned, like a ghost, “ Ooo-ooo-ooh! ”

The others chuckled. “Where are you staying while in Mineral Wells?” Leila asked. “Not in that old, run-down house?”

“Well, I don’t have another option, honey. Not unless Dante is offering.” She flashed him a hopeful glance.

Mr Vernon flushed. “I wish we could, I really do—”

Leila couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Dad!” It was unlike him to deny someone help, especially an old friend.

Ignoring her outburst, Mr Vernon went on. “But we no longer have a guest room, and I couldn’t possibly recommend that you bunk on our lumpy couch upstairs. You’d have absolutely no privacy.” He shook his head. “Tell you what, Sandra… I’ll call my partner up at the Grand Oak Resort and see if he can’t arrange for a most extravagant room… just until you’ve made your mother’s place more habitable.”

Sandra couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I’d be most appreciative.”

“Brilliant!” said Mr Vernon, standing and heading over to the phone. “We’ll set you up at the resort. Then, this evening, you’ll come back and have dinner with all of us.”

“Us too?” asked Theo.

“I’m intrigued to hear more about Sandra’s skills ,” said Ridley, raising an eyebrow.

“Alas! I shan’t make it,” Olly said dramatically.

“Yeah, we can’t stay,” Izzy whined. “It’s a Golden family dinner night.”

Ridley pressed the issue. “But the rest of us—”

“Okay, okay.” Mr Vernon chuckled. “Olly and Izzy, you’ll be sorely missed. But I’ll be sure to ask the Other Mr Vernon to bring home extra food for everyone else. It’ll be a welcome-home party for Sandra.”

“I couldn’t ask for anything more,” Sandra said. “My goodness, how I’ve missed you, Dante. Thank you so much.”

Listening closely, Leila could sense a kind of defeat in Sandra’s voice. For a moment, Leila wondered if she had psychic powers of her own.

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