9752873896523593

8
“Max—I can’t see you!” Lefty whined.
“I know,” I replied quietly. I felt so frightened. I had chills running down my back, chills that
wouldn’t stop. “I can’t see you, either.”
“What happened?” Lefty cried. I could feel him tug at my invisible arm.
“I—I don’t know,” I stammered. “It worked before. I clicked off the light and I was back.”
I gazed into the mirror. No reflection. Nothing.
No me. No Lefty.
I stood there, staring at the spot where our reflections should be, frozen with fear. I was glad
Lefty couldn’t see me because I wouldn’t want him to see how frightened I looked.
“Try it again, Max,” he whined. “Please. Hurry!”
“Okay,” I said. “Just try to stay calm, okay?”
“Stay calm? How?” Lefty wailed. “What if we never get back? What if no one can ever see us
again?”
I suddenly felt so sick. My stomach just sort of heaved.
Get a grip, I told myself. You’ve got to keep it together, Max. For Lefty’s sake.
I stretched up for the light chain, but it seemed to be out of my reach.
I tried again. Missed.
And then suddenly, I was back. And so was Lefty.
We could see each other. And we could see our reflections in the mirror.
“We’re back!” We both shouted it in unison.
And then we both fell on the floor, laughing. We were so relieved. So happy.
“Ssshh!” I grabbed Lefty and shoved my hand over his mouth. I just remembered it was the
middle of the night. “If Mom and Dad catch us up here, they’ll kill us,” I warned, whispering.
“Why did it take so long for us to come back?” Lefty asked, turning serious, gazing at his
reflection.
I shrugged. “Beats me.” I thought about it. “Maybe if you stay invisible longer, it takes longer for
you to get back,” I suggested.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“The first time I went invisible,” I told him, “it was only for a few seconds. And I came back
instantly, as soon as I clicked off the light. But tonight—”
“We stayed invisible a lot longer. So it took longer to come back. I get it,” Lefty said.
“You’re not as dumb as you look,” I said, yawning.
“You are!” he snapped back.
Feeling totally exhausted, I started to lead the way out of the tiny room, motioning for Lefty to
follow me. But he hesitated, glancing back at his reflection in the mirror.
“We have to tell Mom and Dad about the mirror,” he whispered thoughtfully.
“No way!” I told him. “No way we’re telling them. If we tell them about it, they’ll take it away.