Abby Carnelia's One and Only Magical Power (14 page)

“Nope,” he replied. “Only child.”

“Are you gonna be a magician when you grow up?” asked Ricky. He was obviously impressed that Ben was already doing magic shows for money.

“I don't know,” Ben said. “I like it. I like performing magic, I like watching it, I even like teaching it. I taught
beginning magic to little kids at a summer camp near my house last year. But my parents keep telling me it's too hard to earn money doing magic.”

“Hmph,” Ferd chimed in. “I would advise you not to mention that to David Copperfield, or Lance Burton, or Criss Angel, or David Blaine.”

Abby grinned. Ferd was a hardcore magic nerd.

“How'd you get picked to go to super camp?” Eliza asked, still sounding a little skeptical of Ben's story.

“Let me guess: Ferd,” offered Abby.

“You are correct, young lady,” Ferd said. “I saw Mr. Wheeler performing his remarkable key effect in the dining hall one day.”

“Yeah,” said Ben, picking up the story. “He asked me how it works, and I told him I didn't know. Next thing I knew, he asked if I wanted to meet other kids with—unusual abilities, so I said sure! I'm always up for an adventure.”

“Oh, you'll have one of those, all right.” Ferd nodded, his greasy ponytail bobbing. “And it's going to start soon. We're only about one more hour away.”

The kids had long since stopped studying the view out the window. If they had paid more attention, they would have
noticed the gradual, slow alternation of cities, suburbs, and countryside—and they would have noticed that for the last hour, it had been all countryside, and even a couple of cornfields.

Night was falling when the van finally slowed to a stop. The kids pressed their faces to the windows to see where they were.

They were at a magnificent, ten-foot, black wrought-iron gate in an impressive stone wall. Abby could see one end of a laser-engraved bronze sign mounted to the wall. The first two letters were CA; the rest of the name was covered by a cloth that some painter had left draped over the wall.

A security guard in a glass booth recognized Ferd, gave him a friendly wave, and pressed a button; the huge black gates swung open on electronic hinges to let the van through.

The view before them was stunning. They were at the top rim of a gently sloped valley, which was so big you couldn't see the whole thing without turning your head. The grass was brilliant green as far as the eye could see; the setting sun gave the entire scene a golden sheen.

Nestled at the bottom of the valley was what Abby first thought was a little village, or maybe a college campus—ten or twelve clean white buildings connected by walkways
and decorated by artistically placed trees, plants, and flowers. In the center of the cluster of buildings was a lavishly gardened courtyard with a fountain that shot out what must have been a thirty-foot-tall spire of water.

The access road wound gently down the hill toward the little village, and Ferd drove slowly so they could appreciate the view. As they approached, Abby could see that it wasn't a village or even a college campus; the buildings looked a little too sleek and modern.

When she was a little girl, Abby's dad had once taken her to visit his airline's headquarters. She'd been very excited. She'd imagined that it would be like some huge
Star Wars
spaceship dock, a busy place where people were attaching wings onto airplanes, cooking airplane meals, watching huge screens that showed where all the planes in the air were—stuff like that. It had turned out to be nothing like that at all. The airline headquarters was just an office building—a plain, all-glass office mini-skyscraper, with carpeting, fluorescent lights, little cubicles, and hundreds of workers tapping away on computer keyboards. That was it. No wings, no meals, no giant screens.

That's how she felt when she saw the super camp for the first time. At first glance, it didn't actually look much like a camp at all. She didn't see any kids, any parents, any lake except for the fountain pond. There weren't even
any activity areas—soccer fields, tennis courts, a pool, that sort of thing—at least not that she could see. It was beautiful, but it sure wasn't Camp Cadabra.

“Is that the super camp?” asked Ricky.
Bless his heart,
Abby thought.
He's having the same reaction I am.

“Super-duper,” replied Ferd.

Abby stole a look at Ben. He was staring hard out the window with a look of concern.

“It doesn't
look
like a camp,” blurted Eliza.

“My dear, you're going to love it,” was all Ferd said.

He pulled the van up to one of the closest buildings. It had a low-slung roof, and the entire front wall was made of glass, so you could see the sleek wood floors and shiny silver furniture of the lobby inside. A skinny blond man with a tidy little mustache was standing by the front door waiting for them. He was wearing a suit and tie, which Abby thought was a little odd for summer camp. He was also wearing a pair of glasses and a big smile.

Ferd climbed out and walked around the van to open the doors for Abby, Ben, Ricky, and Eliza.

“Come on out, my people,” he said. “Welcome to your home away from home. You're gonna love it here.”

From the looks of the place, Abby wasn't quite so sure.

T
HE GUY IN THE SUIT
was super-friendly, and, Abby thought, also super-weird. He sure didn't act like the director of the camp. He acted more like their puppy.

“Greetings, greetings all!” he exclaimed. “We've been expecting you! So thrilled, so thrilled!”

He was a one-man welcoming committee. He rushed to grab each kid's hand and shook it like he was pumping water. “Hello there—Phil Shutter. How are you? I'm Phil—nice to meet you. Phil Shutter; I run this place. Great to see you, thanks for coming. Here, let me get that bag for you. No, no, please—call me Phil.”

Abby and Ben happened to glance at each other at exactly the same moment. Clearly, they were both thinking
the same thing. Which, if you had to put it into words, was something like: “
What the—?!?!”

“So everybody survived? It must have been quite a ride,” Phil was going on. As he spoke, he was trying to prop open the big glass front door with his heel while hauling duffel bags into the lobby. “I've made the drive many times myself; I know what you've been through! But you're in good hands with Ferd. Okay, watch the corner there—good girl.”

Abby had never seen Phil before in her life, and yet she recognized his voice. It was weirdly familiar. A little bit singsongy, a little bit nasal—where had she heard that voice before?

Eventually, they all made it into the lobby. Phil finally stopped talking—at least to them. Instead, he began speaking to a pretty receptionist at the front desk. She made a quick phone call, and within seconds, three guys in matching black work shirts arrived to take the kids' duffel bags.

Phil invited them to plop down on the big leather chairs. He pulled one of them around so that he could sit on it and face them.

“Okle-dokle,” he began, glancing down at his clipboard. “First, I want to welcome you to the Camp Cadabra advanced-placement program. It's really a big honor for me
to meet you folks—I've been waiting for you a long time. You and the other kids.”

Ricky shot his hand straight up like a lightning rod. “What other kids?”

Phil smiled. “Good question—Ben? Are you Ben? Oh, no—Ricky. Ricky. Well, as you may know, there's more than one Camp Cadabra. In fact, we've opened up summer camps for young magicians all around the country. Five of them in all. We like to think that they're the finest magic camps in America. And at each camp, we're looking for youngsters like you who have . . .
special
abilities. Something beyond plain old magic tricks; I think you all know what I mean. All four of you have come from our New Hampshire camp. But tonight at the social, you'll meet the kids we've invited from the other camps. It's a very special group. Very, very, very,
very
special.” His glasses had slipped down on his nose; he took this moment to push them back up with one finger and peer at the kids through them.

“Now, I know you've probably got a lot of questions, so I want you all to think of me as your answer man. I'm absolutely full of answers! I'd better be—I run this place!” He paused and looked eagerly from face to face, hoping for laughter. There wasn't any.

“In the meantime,” he went on, “Ferd will be staying
with you at this facility, so he'll always be on hand if you need anything in particular. But for now, I know you're all probably very tired after that long ride. Why don't we show you to the guest rooms, and then we'll all meet in the restaurant for a bedtime snack in half an hour?”

Guest rooms? Restaurant?
It was starting to sound more like a hotel than a summer camp.

Phil stood up, pushed his chair back where it had come from, and motioned for them to follow. “Okay—enough chit-chat. Come-come! I can't wait for you to see the place.”

“Hey!” shouted Eliza as she stood up. She'd been quiet quite long enough, and now the brassy New Yorker in her was bubbling to the surface. “How come there's no lake or cabins or anything? What kind of camp
is
this?”

But Phil was already walking briskly away. “It's a wonderful place, wonderful. We built it just for you! You're going to love it.”

Ben wasn't quite getting it, either. He trotted to catch up. “Well, if there are only a few kids here, how come there are so many buildings?”

Phil didn't even bother to look back at him; he kept right on striding along. “Running a chain of camps all across the country is a big project,” he replied with a shrug. “Gotta have headquarters somewhere, right?”

As he took them out the back of the lobby and into a long, carpeted hallway, the group thinned out to fit the narrower space. Abby was getting squished against a wall. “Excuse me! Mr. Shutter?”

“Phil! Call me Phil. Always Phil, okay? That's how we roll here.” He gave her a wink. Or tried to; Phil couldn't actually wink, so he wound up blinking both eyes at her and just looking really strange.

“Okay, Phil?” Abby said, trotting to keep up. “Can I call my parents? I haven't talked to them in, like, forever.”

“There'll be plenty of time for that,” Phil replied. “In the meantime, there's a brand-new laptop right in every guest room, so feel free to drop them an e-mail or what have you.”

Hmmmph!
Abby thought.
For a guy who says he's here to give us answers, he sure doesn't have a lot of them.

They rounded a corner and came to a doorway. Next to it was a small black box. Phil unclipped a little plastic security card from his belt and waved it in front of the box; instantly, a little green light turned on, and the door unlocked with a loud click.

“My dad has that at his bank where he works,” Eliza said to nobody in particular. “It's for security.”

“You are quite correct, little lady,” Phil replied. “Your parents have entrusted you to our care, and so your safety is our
absolute priority. Nobody gets into the camper area without one of these security cards. In fact, after hours, we turn on motion detectors in this hallway, and even pressure sensors in the floor. You may find that excessive, but hey: you folks are special, and we intend to keep you safe and sound. You never know who
else
might think you're special. We don't want anyone coming in here except the good guys.”

He made another attempt at winking, but just wound up looking like he'd gotten dust in his eyes.

They made their way through yet another vestibule into yet another lobby with yet another receptionist sitting at yet another front desk. “This is Candi,” Phil said. “You four are staying right here in this pod, and she'll be on duty right here at the desk if you need anything at all.”

Candi handed Phil a set of four card keys, which he handed out to the four kids.

“Annnnnnnd, here we are,” Phil finally announced, sweeping his arm. “Find your place!”

The “pod,” as Phil called it, consisted of four rooms, all connecting to Candi's little lobby. One camper's name appeared on a little plaque next to each door.

Abby walked up to hers, but before she slid her key card into it, she took a cautious look back at Ben. He was already at his own door across the lobby, trying to figure out which way to slide his key into the slot.

She turned back to her own door, swiped her key card, and stepped inside.

It wasn't a camp cabin, that's for sure. It was—well, it looked like a really, really expensive hotel room. The bed was big enough for six people to sleep on. Enormous glass picture windows formed the back wall, with a view out to the courtyard and the gigantic fountain. Next to the headboard of the bed, Abby found a panel full of buttons that you could push without even getting up. One of these buttons opened and closed the curtains. Another one turned off all the lights in the room.