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Lily and Dunkin: A TRICK


When I wake, I take my two pills with a glass of orange juice, then go online to look up magic tricks. I haven’t learned a new one in a while. It would be fun to get back into my hobby. I’d gotten pretty good at them in Jersey.

In fact, I was great at entertaining Mom on those days when Dad couldn’t quite manage to get out of bed. The dark days he was on the down side of his bipolar disorder, Mom and I hung out. It sucked that Dad was so depressed, but at least Mom and I had each other for company. Dad’s crazy highs weren’t much better. It was best when Dad took his meds and was right in the middle—good old Dad—telling dumb jokes, eating too many doughnuts and loving my mom and me more than anything else in the world.

Those thoughts open up a gaping hole in my heart, so I shake my head to dislodge them and focus on the screen. I scroll through a bunch of tricks I already know until I find a new one. But I’ll need a couple supplies.

Downstairs in the kitchen, I find what I need.

“Nu?” Bubbie asks. “What are those for?”

I shake a cloth napkin out and mysteriously drape it over a pepper shaker. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Bubbie laughs. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s for a magic trick.”

Bubbie holds up her arm and pinches a tiny bit of skin underneath, between her elbow and shoulder. “Maybe you can figure out how to make this disappear.”

I shake my head. “Do you have a coin?”

“Who wants to know?”

I give Bubbie the look, and she finds her purse and fishes out a penny. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” she says, and hands it to me.

“Cheapskate,” I joke as I cradle my items and head toward the stairs.

“Good luck, Merlin,” she calls.

“Who?”

“Never mind!”

I spend the next hour practicing the new trick. Again and again. It’s the only way to get it perfect. “This is my coolest trick ever,” I say to no one.

Then I realize that besides Mom and Bubbie, I don’t have anyone to try the trick out on. That’s a depressing thought. I realize my number one priority when I start at Gator Lake Middle should be making friends. Maybe I’ll have better luck there than I did at my school in Jersey.

Maybe at Gator Lake Middle, they’ll appear like magic.


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