DOMINIC WAS STUNNED. One minute, he was botching his Hot Rod routine, and the next, he was entering a magic contest. He glanced at his friends. They didn’t seem stunned at all. They looked excited.
After Ariel stormed off, Mr. Garza told them to pick lockers, pointing out that the one with the giant gold star was unavailable because it belonged to Ariel. “You can keep your supplies in here,” he explained. “You’ll have to bring your own locks, but at this point, no one else has earned a key to the Vault.” Then he gave them an overview of the contest. “You’ll perform in front of a live audience that includes three judges. They are professional magicians, and they’ll be judging your skills at handling magic, your creativity, and your delivery.” So far, Dominic had mastered none of these. “The winner is announced during an evening stage show. It is a great honor to win, but it is an even greater honor to participate.”
The boys nodded.
“But first, you must get your parents’ permission.” Mr. Garza went to his computer, pulled up the TAOM website, and printed copies of a brochure with all the rules. “Any questions?”
The boys couldn’t think of any.
“Good,” Mr. Garza said, nodding. “The training begins next week.” With that, he dismissed them.
Dominic and his friends left, and as they walked through the store, Ariel glared at them again. She had totally mastered the look of an evil queen about to get her revenge. Dominic thought she might say, “Off with their heads!” but she didn’t—probably because her mom was there.
“Good-bye, boys,” Mrs. Garza said.
“’Bye,” they called back.
When Dominic got home, he said hello to his mom and then went straight to his room, where he stood in front of the mirror with his Hot Rod. He repeated the routine. It worked every single time, even when he used blue as the favorite color.
After a while, his mom peeked in.
“What’s going on?” she said. “It’s time to get ready for dinner.”
“I just want to get this perfect,” Dominic explained as he counted one, two, three, four from the top of his Hot Rod, his finger landing on the red gem as it should.
“What happened? Your performance didn’t go well?”
“It was awful.”
She frowned. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You can always try again. It’s not easy to perform in front of an audience.”
“I think I have stage fright,” Dominic explained. “I can do it perfectly when no one’s around.”
She nodded. “I’m sure they’ll let you try again so you can get that key you were talking about.”
“Oh, I did get it. It’s true that I messed up, but my paddle move was good enough for the key. I met Mr. Garza. He’s the guy in the Vault.”
“So he told you all the secrets?”
“Not exactly. But his room is full of resources—books, videos, magic gimmicks. He said we could borrow anything we wanted.” He pointed to his dresser. “I checked out that book on mentalism. It’s going to teach me how to read people’s minds.”
“Uh-oh,” she teased. “Now you’re going to know all my secrets.”
“That’s the whole point,” Dominic said, and she laughed a bit. “But first, I have to get used to performing in front of people. I felt a little sick to my stomach. It was weird because I never freak out when I’m with Loop or Z.”
“Everything’s easy when you’re with your friends.”
“Yeah, I guess it is. That’s why we’re going to compete together.”
“Compete? What do you mean?”
Instead of answering her question, Dominic grabbed the contest form and handed it to her. As she read, he told her about the convention in August, how magicians from all over the world gathered to share their techniques and routines, and how there were competitions that got judged by professionals. “They’re always looking for new talent,” he said. “Loop, Z, and I are going to be a team, and Mr. Garza is going to coach us. His daughter was the champion last year.” His mom was still reading, making him impatient. “Can I go?” he asked. “I think it’s a great opportunity.”
“Wait a minute. Let me see.” She studied the entry form and started adding under her breath. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s a great opportunity, but…”
He moaned like someone had punched him in the gut.
“Don’t do that,” she said.
“I can’t help it,” he explained. “Every time you say ‘but,’ bad news follows. You’re about to tell me I can’t go, aren’t you? Just admit it.”
She sighed. “Let me tell you why.”
“I knew it!” Amazingly, he could already read her mind.
“Look at this,” she said, showing him the form. “This is everything we need to pay in order for you to go: $150 to register for the convention and $50 to enter the contest, not to mention transportation to Houston, a room at the Hilton Americas—which is probably $150 to $200 per night—then food, and whatever supplies you need for your performance. It’ll cost hundreds of dollars.”
Dominic moaned again.
“We don’t have that kind of money, sweetie. We’re living paycheck—”
“To paycheck,” he finished. “I know, Mom, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Please. I’m sure Dad will pay. He’s got money.”
“You can’t go to your dad every time you want something.”
“Why not?” A timer buzzed, so she rushed to the kitchen. Dominic followed. After she took a chicken from the oven, Dominic said, “What’s the big deal about asking Dad for money? He likes to help his kids. Maria Elena gets to take tap lessons and gymnastics. For her birthday, Dad rented a pony and an inflatable castle.”
“And for your birthday, he took you and all your friends to Laser World.”
“I know. It was great! Dad loves to do fun things.”
His mom didn’t answer. She grabbed a catalog from the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room and tore out a page. “I would love to have fun, too,” she said as she folded the page in half and then in half again. “But some of us have to work.”
“Dad works, too.”
Instead of responding, his mother kept folding the paper into smaller and smaller squares.
“I’m going to ask him about the contest when he picks me up for my summer visit,” Dominic said.
“Of course you are,” his mother replied. Now the paper was as small as a bottle cap. She put it in her pocket and headed to her room. “I’ve got a headache,” she said before closing the door. “Go ahead and serve yourself. And put away the leftovers when you’re done.”
She always got headaches when Dominic talked about his father, and she always went to her room and closed the door. Dominic glanced at the bathroom, where the medicine cabinet was. She’d feel better, he thought, if she’d take a Tylenol first.