Secrets of the Magic Ring Page 2

  And finally, with one last yank, it popped out. The force caused the ladder to tilt slightly, and he panicked. A last-minute shifting of his weight wasn’t enough. The ladder went sideways, and Paul went with it. He plunged downward, dizzying and fast.

  Bam! Paul hit the bottom still holding the box.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Ouch,” Paul yelled. He sat for a moment, stunned, the wind knocked out of him. He felt a sharp stab, but despite the pain, Paul felt a huge sense of accomplishment. He’d done it, and all by himself too. If only the kids at school could have seen him, digging like a real explorer, like a, what was the word? An archeologist, that was it! At last he remembered. Who was the spaz now?

  He grinned to himself. The box, encrusted with dirt, felt solid in his hands. Bigger than a shoebox, it was wrapped in the middle with some kind of belt or strap. Buried treasure, that’s what he’d found!

  Paul stood up and put the box under one arm while he lifted the ladder back into place. He made his way up to the top, slowly, because he was carrying the box, and carefully, because his butt hurt.

  Getting out of the hole would be tricky. The ladder was the most wobbly at the top, and he didn’t want to fall again. Paul set his free hand on the top edge to steady himself and was startled to see a pair of brown shoes in front of him. Tilting his head back, he saw a strange boy standing directly above. The boy looked older than him, and he had long, stringy-looking hair and shabby brown clothing. “Need some help?” the boy asked, extending his hand.

  Paul looked nervously at his house, wondering if his parents knew this stranger was in their yard. He said, “No, I think I have it.”

  “Let me take the box for you,” the boy said. “It’ll make it easier for you to get out.”

  Paul tightened his hold. “No thank you. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

  The boy laughed. Paul thought it sounded like a mocking kind of laugh. The boy said, “I’m not a stranger. I’m your neighbor. My name is Henry. I used to live right there.” He pointed to the woods. “I know all about your family.”

  “Could you move over, please?” Paul said. “I need to get out.”

  Henry leaned over, his hands on his knees. He frowned at Paul. “Take my hand,” he said, “and I’ll have you out in no time.”

  Paul had a very bad feeling about this. Where were his mom and dad when he needed them? What kind of parents watched television while their son was being threatened by a stranger in the backyard? “No, I don’t need your help,” he said firmly. “And I think you should go. I don’t know you, and my mother wouldn’t like it if you were here.”

  Henry said nothing, but narrowed his eyes in a mean way. And then he stood up. Paul was relieved, thinking he was leaving, but then Henry said, “GIVE. ME. THAT. BOX. NOW,” in a truly terrible voice that sent chills down Paul’s spine.

  Paul looked at the box and up at Henry, not knowing what to do. And then something happened. His dog, good old goofy Clem, came bounding of the doggie door and right over to the stranger. Usually Clem loved everyone. Paul’s dad said he’d probably greet a burglar with a friendly slurp of his tongue, but Clem didn’t like this boy. As he got closer, he growled and bared his teeth in a menacing way, like a dog possessed.

  Henry backed away, a look of fear crossing his face. “Don’t think this is over,” he said to Paul. “I’ll be back.” And then he ran off into the woods, disappearing from sight.

  Paul’s heart pounded. Clem came up and looked down at him, barking enthusiastically. “Shh, quiet, boy,” Paul said, looking nervously at the house and back at the woods, where the strange boy had gone. Clem danced in circles and yapped again. Paul scrambled up the ladder and out of the hole before his parents looked out the window or Henry returned.

  Who was that kid, and what did he mean when he said he’d lived in the woods? As far as Paul knew, there were no houses in that direction. The woods went on for a long, long way, and ended at a busy highway.

  Thinking about what Henry had said made him shiver. The boy’s tone was so threatening. He clearly wanted the box, so it must contain something valuable. But how would Henry even know what was in it?

  He decided at that moment not to tell his parents about Henry. Telling would mean sharing the whole story—the digging, the ladder, the box. They’d certainly want him to hand over what he found, and he didn’t want to do that. It was his discovery. He should be the one to open it. And would they even believe that a strange boy had been in the yard? In the moments since he’d left, the encounter seemed unlikely even to him. It felt like waking up from a dream and trying to figure out what was real.

  He needed to put the box somewhere safe, and he also needed to put away the ladder and spade, and he couldn’t do both at once. Paul left the ladder in the hole and went to the garage, where he hung the spade back on its hook. He rooted around in the garage until he found the tarp his father used when painting. He recognized the yellow splatters as being left over from the last room painted, the bathroom off his parents’ room. Aunt Vicky called it the “lemon bathroom,” which was kind of funny, but his mother didn’t think so. He wrapped the box inside the tarp and set it on a shelf next to his father’s tools before going back for the ladder. Clem trotted next to him every step of the way. Such a good dog! He was going to get a treat tonight. He rubbed Clem’s head in appreciation. “You saved my life, you good dog. I love you, yes I do.” Sometimes he acted like Clem was a pest when Celia was around, but the truth was, the dog was good company. And sometimes Clem was the only one he could talk to. A dog could be your best friend in a way a person never could.

  He yanked at the ladder and pulled it out of the pit by walking backwards until it lay at his feet. Easy as can be. He felt better once the ladder was back in the garage and he’d locked the door. What a relief.

  He was hosing off his hands in the backyard when his mother opened the door. “Paul? Is that you?” Her head popped out. “Oh, it is you. I wondered why the water was running.”

  “Just cleaning up, Mom.” He held up his hands to show her. “I didn’t want to come in with dirty hands.”

  “That’s my boy!” she said. “I guess you do listen to me.” Clem nudged at the door with his nose, and she let him in. “After you’re done, come on in. It’s getting late.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Really it wasn’t that late. It wasn’t even close to getting dark. More likely his parents’ TV show was over, and she wanted to know Paul was home for the night. She had a thing about everybody being in, so the house could be locked till morning. Paul wasn’t going to make a fuss about it. He’d had a close call and wanted to go indoors where it was safe anyway.

  He finished washing up and went inside. He desperately wanted to retrieve the box from its hiding place in the garage, but it would have to wait until the time was right. His mother was always watching, and there was no way he’d be able to get a dirt-covered object into the house without her noticing. Yes, he’d just have to wait.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Paul didn’t get a chance to go out to the garage that night. Once again, being an only child worked against him. It seemed like his mother monitored his every move. Much as he wanted to go out and sneak a peek under the tarp, he knew not to chance it. Instead, he went through the usual motions of playing video games until she told him it was time for bed. Obediently, he turned off the game, washed up, brushed his teeth, and got into his pajamas.

  As he headed off to bed, his mother called out to him. “Paul?”

  “Yes?”

  “Come here a minute.”

  His heart sank. Oh no, she knew. Had she looked out the window and seen something? “Okay, Mom.” His feet dragged as he retraced his steps.

  She pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head. “I just wanted to tell you that I love you and I appreciate that you’ve been acting so mature lately. Coming home on time and cleaning up without being told. I’m just so proud of you.”

  He felt so guilty he
didn’t squirm out of her grasp like he usually would. This could be his chance to confess, to tell her everything about the box and the boy, Henry, but he just couldn’t do it. He heard how pleased she was and didn’t want to spoil things. “I love you too, Mom,” he said, and she hugged him even tighter.

  From behind them, his father said, “Don’t suffocate the boy, Leah.”

  She released Paul and cupped his chin. “Just keep up the good work, Son.”

  “Okay.” He turned to go back up the stairs and stopped on the landing to call out, “Good night, Mom and Dad.”

  Together he heard them say, “Good night, Paul.” He felt safe and loved. The doors were locked, and Clem was on guard. No one could enter the house, and no one knew where he’d hidden the box. Everything was going to be fine. And tomorrow he would get to find out exactly what was in it. It would be like Christmas, only better.

  While Paul slept, the wind blew and the trees in the woods behind his house made a whispering noise. Jasmine, the Watchful Woods fairy whose job was overseeing his family, made note of all that had happened. Fairy magic allowed her to make suggestions to people and animals, and she had used this magic to send Clem outside to scare off the strange boy. Being new herself, she had no idea what was in the box, but she was sensitive enough to know that big changes were afoot.

  Her wings fluttered as she thought of all that had happened that day. The boy, Henry, had seemed menacing, but she’d handled it fine, she thought. He said he’d be back, though, so that was worrisome. And right now Henry was camping in the woods, which was odd, but at least she could keep an eye on him and figure out what he wanted. Perhaps she should ask Mira, her boss, for advice? No, that would be admitting she was incapable. And she wasn’t. She would monitor the situation and take care of anything that came up.

  In the garage, the box, still wrapped up in the tarp, rested comfortably on the shelf. To the casual observer it would appear to be just a dirt-covered box, but inside, where no one could see, the box was awakening. It had been underground waiting to be discovered for a long time. Finally, finally, the magic inside the box would get to make its way out into the world.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next day, Paul leapt out of bed. Clem sensed something was up, and he followed Paul around into the kitchen, his fluffy tail wagging. “Big day, huh boy?” Paul said, patting Clem on the head. He’d been talking to Clem more and more lately, and sometimes he caught Clem giving him an understanding wink or nod in agreement.

  Paul’s mother, who usually micromanaged his schedule, seemed to have relaxed her standards. Maybe she was in summer vacation mode, or maybe it was because Aunt Vicky was giving them the pool, but lately she’d been smiling a lot more and nagging a lot less. When Paul asked if he could play outside, she said, “I’d love to let you, Paul, but you know the crew is coming today to work on the pool, and I’m afraid it wouldn’t be safe for you. You can watch from the window, though, if you like.” This last sentence she said brightly, like this would make him happy.

  “Sure, the window is good,” Paul said. Then thinking fast he asked, “Is it okay if I go out in the garage? I wanted to pump up my bike tires and clean the spokes.” He’d never pumped up the bike tires in his life, and he wasn’t even sure if people cleaned spokes, or why they’d want to. Still, it seemed like a reasonable lie, and he was proud of coming up with something so quickly. Very sly on his part.

  His mother tilted her head to one side, considering. “Yes, I guess that would be fine. Just don’t leave anything lying around. When your father comes home, he’ll want to pull right into his space.”

  “I know, I know,” Paul said. “I won’t make a mess.”

  And the matter was settled.

  A few minutes later, the workers arrived and his mother went outside to talk to the foreman. He saw them talking in the yard, his mother pointing to the hole and the man gesturing and smiling. They seemed to be agreeing on some finer point. Mom nodded and then stepped back while the men got all the equipment in place. Having his mother momentarily distracted was nice, but he knew his time was limited. Eventually she’d open the garage door to check on him, and he’d better be doing something with his bike or she’d be asking questions.

  Paul filled a bucket with water and grabbed a few rags. Clem looked up with interest. “Coming with me, Clem?” he asked. The dog uttered a low whine that Paul took for a yes.

  In the garage, Paul pulled his bike away from the wall, set the pump next to the tires, and draped one of the rags over the seat. If he heard the door starting to open, he had everything in place and could act like he was working on his bike.

  The next step was getting the box out of its hiding place. He pulled the tarp out and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the box still nestled in the center, just where he’d left it. Paul put the box next to the bike, then folded up the tarp and returned it to the shelf. Clem walked in circles before settling in next to the bike to watch.

  Ideally, Paul would have liked to run the box under the hose, but he was afraid that would ruin it. Also, his mother always noticed when the outside water was on. She didn’t miss a thing. So instead he dipped a rag into the water and wiped at the dirt. He worked quickly and scrubbed hard, and soon the surface was uncovered.

  Whoa! The box looked like a pirate’s treasure chest complete with curved top and metal handles. More scrubbing revealed that the piece wrapped around the center was a strap held together by a buckle. He repeatedly dipped the rag in the water and rubbed at the box. The water turned a murky brown, and still he worked.

  He heard his mom’s footsteps before she even opened the door, and he was ready for her, hiding the box behind his back and grabbing a clean rag to swipe at his bike spokes.

  “Paul?” She craned her neck to get a look at him. “Everything okay out here?”

  “Everything’s fine, Mom.” He did a bit of playacting, pretending to be engrossed in shining up the bike spokes. Oddly enough, they did seem to need a good cleaning. The back wheel even had a cobweb along one side.

  “Is Clem getting in your way? I can bring him in.”

  Clem gave Paul a look that said, Please no, don’t let her take me away. I want to stay with you. “Clem’s fine out here,” Paul said, and Clem thumped his tail in appreciation.

  “Okay then, I’ll be doing laundry if you need me.”

  The door closed, and Paul stopped working on his bike. “That was a close one, eh buddy?” he said before turning his attention back to the box. He carefully unbuckled the strap and set it on the garage floor next to him.

  “This is the moment of truth, Clem,” he said. “Now we get to find out what’s inside.” The dog scrambled to his feet to get a closer look. Paul lifted the lid, and the hinges creaked. His jaw dropped in amazement, and he turned to Clem and said, “Wow, will you look at that!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Paul stared for a few minutes, taking it all in. The inside of the box wasn’t quite what he’d expected. He’d hoped for a box full of treasure—diamonds and gold coins and rubies—but that’s not what he got. Still, it was pretty cool. Instead of a jumble of valuables, there was just one item resting on a bed of dark black velvet. It was a gold ring with a sparkling blue gem in the middle. He’d never seen anything like it. Stuck in the middle of the ring was a rolled-up piece of paper. Paul pulled it out and smoothed it against the garage floor. The paper was as fragile as an autumn leaf and yellowed like the old papers he’d seen in the museum.

  “What do you suppose this is, Clem?” he asked, but the dog didn’t have an answer for him. The writing looked oldtimey like when people used to dip pens into inkwells. Paul had difficulty reading the words. He wasn’t the best reader at school, but he was stubborn and would stick with something if motivated. He was motivated now, so he struggled to work out the words, reading it aloud: “This ring bestows on the wearer their most fervently wished-for ability, even beyond normal capabilities. One use per wearer.” Huh? He turned it over, but the
re was nothing written on the back. “I wonder what that means. Kind of weird.”

  Paul picked up the ring. It was heavy and warm in his hand. He could feel some kind of energy radiating off the metal. Or was it just his excitement that seemed to make the ring vibrate? It was not a beautiful piece of jewelry. In fact, it looked clunky, but there was something very regal about it, like maybe it had once belonged to a king or queen. Probably a king because it looked more like a man’s ring. He put the ring on his middle finger, and it fit perfectly, hugged his finger in fact. Odd, he would have thought it would be sized for adults. He took it off and tried it on his ring finger, and again it fit just right. Puzzling. He’d thought his middle finger was bigger. Oh well. He shrugged.

  “What do you think, Clem, pretty cool?” he asked. If Clem had an opinion, he wasn’t saying. Now that the contents of the box were revealed, the dog had settled into a lying down position.

  What to do with the ring? Paul couldn’t wear it at home because his parents would certainly want to know where he got it. Keeping this a secret was getting to be more complicated all the time.

  Too bad school was out for the summer. Paul would have loved to have shown the other kids the ring and told them he found it digging underground. Maybe they’d have a new respect for him and stop calling him Spaz. Especially Brody, the worst human being on the planet. He made fun of Paul at every turn. Brody never seemed to leave him alone—always trying to trip him, stepping on his heels in the hallway, mocking him at the lunch table. Recently Brody had noticed that Paul sometimes talked to Celia, and after that he’d say loudly, “Oh, there’s Paul’s girlfriend,” making obnoxious kissing sounds as he passed by. When Paul told his mother about this, she had downplayed the whole thing. “Well, Celia is your friend, and she is a girl, so he’s sort of right. Don’t pay any attention to him, Paul, and he’ll get tired of teasing you.” She was so wrong. Paul tried ignoring him for weeks, but if anything Brody only got worse.