CHAPTER ONE
“Better ride fast!” Sammy pointed to the sky. “It’s going to start raining any second.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it.” Charles Peterson waved at his best friend as he pushed off on his bike. Charles and Sammy usually biked to and from school together. But on this gloomy spring Thursday afternoon, Sammy’s mom was picking him up to take him to a dentist appointment — so Charles had to ride home alone.
Charles glanced up as he rode past the playground. At recess that day, it had been sunny and warm. Now the sun had disappeared and the sky had turned gray. A strong wind began to blow, tossing the leaves in the trees. And right above him,Charles saw dark clouds gathering together into a billowy black mountain that loomed overhead.
It was not a long ride home. Charles thought he could make it before the rain began, if he rode hard. He stood up on the pedals and began to rock his bike to and fro, using his arms as well as his legs to push harder, faster. The wind pushed back and made dark little whirlpools of road dust that sprayed grit into Charles’s face.
Splat
. A fat, heavy raindrop smacked his helmet.
Splat. Splat. Splat
. Three more splashed his arms and face. Charles was already panting, but he ramped up his speed even more. Once, his dad had told him that if you went fast enough, you could dodge the raindrops and stay dry, even when it was pouring. Ha. Who could ever go
that
fast? Now Charles remembered the little smile on Dad’s face when he’d said it, and realized it was just a joke.
The splats came faster and harder, and the road turned from gray to spotted to black asthe rain poured down. Charles smelled that special rain-on-dusty-road smell rising from the pavement. He wiped away the drips running off his helmet’s visor so he could see through the downpour. His sneakers were already squishing and cold rain trickled down the back of his neck.
What would Mysterioso do in this situation? Charles thought of the performer he’d seen at his school’s Spring Fling fair. Round-bellied and short, with a shiny bald head, Mysterioso looked like an ordinary guy, maybe somebody’s dad. But he was an amazing magician. Mysterioso could read minds, pull coins from your ear, and turn a red scarf into a yellow one, right in front of your eyes.
Charles had been thinking about that show a lot. Mysterioso had cracked jokes as he did his tricks, and the audience loved him. People were still talking about Mysterioso two weeks after the fair. Charles had already decided that hewanted to be a magician, too. He’d found a book on magic tricks at the library so he could learn to do what Mysterioso did.
Could Mysterioso make the rain stop pouring down? Charles looked up at the sky. “Abra-ca-doodle!” he shouted, remembering the magician’s special word.
The rain did not stop. Charles had not really expected it to. Probably you also needed to wave a wand or sprinkle some magic powder or something.
Charles gave up and slowed down his pedaling. What was the point? He was so wet that he couldn’t get any wetter. He was cold, too. He thought about how warm it would be at home, and how Mom would meet him at the door with a big fluffy towel so he could dry off. He would get out of these wet clothes as quickly as he could and change into his warm, dry sweatpants and his favorite Batman shirt. Maybe, if he was lucky,Mom would make him a cup of cocoa and bring it to him on the couch, where he could cozy up with a blanket over him and Buddy at his feet.
Buddy was the Petersons’ puppy. Charles loved him. He loved the way Buddy was always so happy to see him, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shook. He loved the way Buddy was always excited to find out what was next: Food? A car trip? Maybe some fun with a ball? Whatever it was, Buddy was up for it. And Charles loved the way Buddy slept next to him, curled up small with his chin propped on Charles’s knee.
The Petersons had taken care of lots
“Better ride fast!” Sammy pointed to the sky. “It’s going to start raining any second.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it.” Charles Peterson waved at his best friend as he pushed off on his bike. Charles and Sammy usually biked to and from school together. But on this gloomy spring Thursday afternoon, Sammy’s mom was picking him up to take him to a dentist appointment — so Charles had to ride home alone.
Charles glanced up as he rode past the playground. At recess that day, it had been sunny and warm. Now the sun had disappeared and the sky had turned gray. A strong wind began to blow, tossing the leaves in the trees. And right above him,Charles saw dark clouds gathering together into a billowy black mountain that loomed overhead.
It was not a long ride home. Charles thought he could make it before the rain began, if he rode hard. He stood up on the pedals and began to rock his bike to and fro, using his arms as well as his legs to push harder, faster. The wind pushed back and made dark little whirlpools of road dust that sprayed grit into Charles’s face.
Splat
. A fat, heavy raindrop smacked his helmet.
Splat. Splat. Splat
. Three more splashed his arms and face. Charles was already panting, but he ramped up his speed even more. Once, his dad had told him that if you went fast enough, you could dodge the raindrops and stay dry, even when it was pouring. Ha. Who could ever go
that
fast? Now Charles remembered the little smile on Dad’s face when he’d said it, and realized it was just a joke.
The splats came faster and harder, and the road turned from gray to spotted to black asthe rain poured down. Charles smelled that special rain-on-dusty-road smell rising from the pavement. He wiped away the drips running off his helmet’s visor so he could see through the downpour. His sneakers were already squishing and cold rain trickled down the back of his neck.
What would Mysterioso do in this situation? Charles thought of the performer he’d seen at his school’s Spring Fling fair. Round-bellied and short, with a shiny bald head, Mysterioso looked like an ordinary guy, maybe somebody’s dad. But he was an amazing magician. Mysterioso could read minds, pull coins from your ear, and turn a red scarf into a yellow one, right in front of your eyes.
Charles had been thinking about that show a lot. Mysterioso had cracked jokes as he did his tricks, and the audience loved him. People were still talking about Mysterioso two weeks after the fair. Charles had already decided that hewanted to be a magician, too. He’d found a book on magic tricks at the library so he could learn to do what Mysterioso did.
Could Mysterioso make the rain stop pouring down? Charles looked up at the sky. “Abra-ca-doodle!” he shouted, remembering the magician’s special word.
The rain did not stop. Charles had not really expected it to. Probably you also needed to wave a wand or sprinkle some magic powder or something.
Charles gave up and slowed down his pedaling. What was the point? He was so wet that he couldn’t get any wetter. He was cold, too. He thought about how warm it would be at home, and how Mom would meet him at the door with a big fluffy towel so he could dry off. He would get out of these wet clothes as quickly as he could and change into his warm, dry sweatpants and his favorite Batman shirt. Maybe, if he was lucky,Mom would make him a cup of cocoa and bring it to him on the couch, where he could cozy up with a blanket over him and Buddy at his feet.
Buddy was the Petersons’ puppy. Charles loved him. He loved the way Buddy was always so happy to see him, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shook. He loved the way Buddy was always excited to find out what was next: Food? A car trip? Maybe some fun with a ball? Whatever it was, Buddy was up for it. And Charles loved the way Buddy slept next to him, curled up small with his chin propped on Charles’s knee.
The Petersons had taken care of lots
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