Hocus Pocus Hotel by Michael Dahl Page A

The heavy lid swung back and struck the side of the brick building with a loud bang.
    â€œHurry up, Hitch!” ordered Ty.
    Charlie walked closer. At least the garbage is in plastic bags , he thought. Maybe it won’t smell so bad.
    â€œI said, hurry up!” Ty said. He lifted three giant bags of garbage from the ground with one hand, as if they weighed no more than kittens. Without taking his eyes off Charlie, he slung the garbage bags into the bin and slammed the lid shut.
    Then Ty walked over to a door in the side of the brick building. He yanked it open and barked, “Inside.”
    Charlie did what he was told. The metal door slammed shut behind him.
    He was alone in a dark room with Tyler Yu. This was it. The end.
    In the dim light that leaked under another door, Charlie saw Tyler raise his fist.
    Charlie wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t. He kept them open and braced himself for the punch. “What do you want?” he whispered.
    Then he saw a finger poke out of Ty’s fist.
    â€œYou,” said Ty. “I need your help.”

Charlie was shocked. “You —?” he said. “You need my help?”
    â€œDon’t make a big deal out of it,” growled Ty.
    â€œBut what do you want me to do?” asked Charlie. “And where are we, anyway?”
    Ty pushed Charlie toward another door. He opened it, and then shoved the smaller boy into a large open space.
    â€œWow!” said Charlie.
    They were standing at the side of a room as big as their school’s gym. Tall marble pillars held up a distant ceiling of gold-painted shapes. A blood-red carpet covered the wide floor. Palm trees grew in giant pots, and enormous chairs and couches lurked in shadowy nooks and corners.
    â€œIt’s just a hotel,” said Ty.
    â€œWow,” repeated Charlie. “It’s not just a hotel. It’s the Hocus Pocus Hotel. I’ve heard of this place.”
    â€œFirst of all, that’s not its name,” Ty said, his face darkening. “Secondly, it’s where I live, okay? My mom’s the hotel manager, and my dad’s the chef. He’s not a cook, he’s a chef, got it?”
    Charlie raised his hands. “I got it.”
    â€œWe live over there, way back behind the counter.” Ty pointed to a wide marble counter, where two guests were checking in. A girl with dark pigtails and glittery glasses was helping them.
    Other than the five of them, the hotel lobby was empty, although Charlie thought he saw a few shadows moving among the massive pieces of furniture.
    Then he saw the painting.

    The man in the painting wore a skinny black tuxedo and held a top hat in his left hand. The man looked young, with thick black hair, dark eyes, and a thin black mustache that ended in two enormous spirals. Behind the man was a woman with golden hair, lying inside a box, being sawed in half.
    The painting hung near the entrance of the hotel. It was the first thing visitors saw as they walked through the front doors.
    â€œWho’s that?” asked Charlie, stepping closer for a better look.
    â€œThat’s the guy who built this place,” said Ty. “He’s a magician. I mean, was a magician. Probably dead by now, I don’t know. He disappeared or something. He built this place, like, a hundred years ago. He made it for other magicians to live in once they retired. But now other people stay here, too, like when they’re on vacation or whatever.”
    â€œMagicians, huh?” said Charlie. That explained the blue neon sign by the alley, with the top hat and the rabbit. “Why does it say Abracadabra under this guy’s portrait?” he asked.
    â€œThat’s his name,” Ty said. “The name of the hotel, too. The Abracadabra. Not the Hocus Pocus. Keep that straight.”
    Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt the folded piece of notepaper in one of his pockets and remembered why he was standing there in