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“Yeah. Sure,” he muttered.<br />
Lefty laughed.<br />
“How much do you want to bet?” I asked.<br />
“Two cents,” Zack said. “Is this some kind of trick mirror or something?”<br />
“Something like that,” I told him. “How about ten dollars? Bet me ten dollars?”<br />
“Huh?”<br />
“Forget the bet. Just show him,” Lefty said, bouncing up and down impatiently.<br />
“I have a magic kit at home,” Zack said. “I can do over a thousand tricks. But it’s kid stuff,” he<br />
sneered.<br />
“You don’t have any tricks like this,” I said confidently.<br />
“Just get it over with so we can go outside,” he grumbled.<br />
I stepped into the center of the mirror. “Ta-daa!” I sang myself a short fanfare. Then I reached up<br />
and grabbed the light chain.<br />
I pulled it. The lamp above the mirror flashed on, blindingly bright at first, then dimming as<br />
before.<br />
And I was gone.<br />
“Hey!” Zack cried. He stumbled backwards.<br />
He actually stumbled out of shock!<br />
Invisible, I turned away from the mirror to enjoy his stunned reaction.<br />
“Max?” he cried out. His eyes searched the room.<br />
Lefty was laughing his head off.<br />
“Max?” Zack sounded really worried. “Max? How’d you do that? Where are you?”<br />
“I’m right here,” I said.<br />
He jumped at the sound of my voice. Lefty laughed even harder.<br />
I reached out and took the softball from Lefty’s hand. I glanced at the reflection in the mirror. The<br />
ball seemed to float in midair.<br />
“Here. Catch, Zack.” I tossed it at him.<br />
He was so stunned, he didn’t move. The ball bounced off his chest. “Max? How do you do this<br />
trick?” he demanded.<br />
“It isn’t a trick. It’s real,” I said.<br />
“Hey, wait…” He got a suspicious look on his face. He ran around to the back of the mirror. I<br />
guess he expected me to be hiding back there.<br />
He looked very disappointed when he didn’t see me. “Is there a trapdoor or something?” he<br />
asked. He walked back in front of the mirror, got down on his hands and knees, and started searching<br />
the floorboards for a trapdoor.<br />
I leaned over and pulled his T-shirt up over his head.<br />
“Hey—stop it!” he yelled, climbing angrily to his feet.<br />
I tickled his stomach.<br />
“Stop, Max.” He squirmed away, thrashing his arms, trying to hit me. He looked really frightened<br />
now. He was breathing hard, and his face was bright red.<br />
I pulled his T-shirt up again.
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