Philip and the Fortune Teller (9781619501317) by John Paulits Page B

ticket and studied it. It
looked like the real thing. And for free!
    “What do I have to do?” Emery asked with a
quaver in his voice.
    “I have a chore for you. You need only do
what I ask, and the three wishes are yours.”
    “Do I have to do it alone?”
    The gypsy tilted his head questioningly.
    “Two people might be better,” Emery argued.
“I have a friend. He could help me do whatever it is.”
    “Bring him to me,” the gypsy ordered.
“Immediately!”
    “Uh, well, okay. I’ll go get him.” He stood
and slipped the ticket into his pocket. “I’ll be right back.” He
took a few steps and turned back. “You’ll be here, right?”
    The gypsy didn’t answer, but simply extended
his arm, his crooked finger pointing into the distance.
    Emery turned and ran off.
     
~ * ~
    “So how about that?” Emery bubbled. “What do
you think of that? I showed you the ticket. It’s all real.”
    Philip wanted a free ticket to the circus.
What made Emery the lucky one? But it still sounded weird.
    “The ticket looks real. Did you sit
there and make a wish to go to the circus, and he just . . . poof . . . popped out a ticket?”
    “No, I didn’t say anything.”
    “So, you didn’t make a wish?”
    “No, but I wanted to see the circus.”
    “But you didn’t tell the gypsy that?”
    “I guess he could see into my mind through
his crystal ball. Oh, man. He read my mind! He’s even more powerful
than I thought!” A worried look came across Emery’s face. “We
better watch out what we think when we’re around him.”
    “People can’t read minds,” Philip said, not
entirely sure his statement rang true.
    “Then how’d the gypsy know I wanted to go see
the circus?”
    “I don’t know. Everybody wants to go see the
circus.”
    “I don’t think so. The old lady who made you
lose your ball probably doesn’t want to go see the circus.”
    “She should be in the circus; in the
Spooky House.”
    “Philip, you gotta come and meet the gypsy.
If he lets you help me, he’ll give you three wishes. Imagine what
we could do with three wishes.”
    The possibilities appealed to Philip. “Yeah,”
he said. “What would you wish for?”
    “I don’t know. A million dollars. All 100s in
every test I ever take. How about you?”
    “A million dollars sounds good, but I
wouldn’t waste a wish on school. How about . . . how about a new
car every year for free when I grow up? Yeah. And muscles.”
    “Mussels? You eat that snotty-looking seafood
thing in the little black shells? Ew! That’s disgusting!”
    “What snotty seafood thing? Are you crazy? I
don’t want to eat any snotty-looking seafood?”
    “You just said you want it.”
    “I never said I wanted snotty-looking
seafood. I want muscles.” Philip stretched out his arms and bent
them.
    “Ohhhh,” said Emery. “Those muscles. Muscles?
That’s stupid.”
    “Yeah, well, when I have muscles, and you
bother me, I’ll use them.”
    “I give you three wishes, and you’re going to
muscle me? Forget it. I’ll get somebody else to help me then.”
    Philip knew he’d gone too far. “No, I’m just
kidding, Emery. Muscles are good for, you know, doing stuff.
Lifting things. And they look good, right?”
    Emery gazed doubtfully at Philip. “I guess
so. Well, come on. Let’s go see the gypsy.”
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    They hurried toward Lighthouse Field, but
slowed down considerably once they entered the grounds.
    “Wow!” said Philip. “Everybody’s so busy. Is
that the guy?”
    “Him? Does he look like a gypsy to you?”
    “He looks like something.”
    “He’s an Egypt guy, a pharaoh. See the snake
thingie on his headpiece? Don’t you remember? We saw pictures of
them in school this year.”
    “Oh, yeah. I remember. I like Isis.”
    “Nothing’s open yet. You can’t get any.”
    Philip stopped walking. “I can’t get any
what?”
    “Ices. I like mango.”
    “You like mango what?”
    “Mango ices.”
    “What are you talking