The Missing Coins

... that needed to be lost

"This is it, I know I'm going to win."

"Don't get over-confident now," Martin's mother warned him. "you're up against some really good performers, you know."

"Oh, Mom, everyone says I'm the best at magic tricks in the whole city. This show is just for students of my school. I'm going to win."

"Teenagers!" muttered his mother, starting up the car.

They drove to school in silence. In the parking lot, Mom called out, "Good luck, dear," as she locked the car door and headed for the visitors' entrance while Martin dashed off to the stage entrance.

In the third row, Martin's mother applauded as Shreyaan performed his mind-reading act, Nancy did her chicken-and-egg trick and Carlotta climbed an invisible ladder till she became invisible herself.

Then it was Martin's turn. He came strutting on to the stage,

"Ladies, Gentlemen and fellow students," he called out. "I need a volunteer, please. Mrs. Singhal? Thank you for raising your hand! If you could join me on stage, please! Applause for my enthusiastic helper, mother of Gunjan, Mrs. Singhal!"

Martin's mother applauded with everyone else as her son turned Mrs. Singhal's hair blue (he turned it to pink before turning it back to black). Then, he made her shoes slip off her feet and tap-dance around the room, and finally, he asked her to hold up her purse and open it.

He pointed his wand at the purse. "Ala-ka-zooom," he yelled.

Nothing happened.

Martin's eyes flickered with surprise, but he recovered quickly.

"I'm sorry, I should've said 'Iyyyyaaa-hoooo' for this trick," he quipped, jerking his wand. "Iyyyyaaa-hoooo!"

Nothing happened.

Mrs. Singhal stood there, holding up her purse.

"Accio coins!" Martin shouted, flailing his arms about desperately.

Some of the younger students had started to laugh. A few adults were tut-tutting and muttering, "Poor kid." Backstage, the drama teacher hissed, "Close the curtains," and the crew member in charge of curtains did so.

The car ride back home was silent, too. At home, Martin disembarked and walked round to the driver's door and waited for his Mom to lock the car. He then reached for her hand and clung to it as they waked to the front door together. With her free hand, Mom took the key from her pocket and opened the front door.

Martin was dreading Dad's questions about the show and whether he had won. The teenager didn't say 'Hi' but went straight upstairs to his room. He heard his father's footsteps in the hall, but no voice followed him. Mom must've texted Dad about the disaster.

In the kitchen, Dad was heating up the spaghetti for Mom. "I got hungry so I ate. Do you think our son is going to want any dinner?"

"I'll take some bananas to his room. He'll get hungry in the middle of the night."

"So," said Dad, as Mom dug her fork into the pasta. "The coins disappeared, did they?"

"Umm-umm," she nodded, her mouth full.

"He's never failed at that trick before. He made a shower of coins pour out of his grandmother's purse last Christmas."

"Ummm-ummm."

"Why do you suppose he couldn't do it this time? What went wrong?"

She swallowed. Then she took a couple of sips of water. Then she looked her husband in the eye.

"Nothing went wrong, sweetheart. Something went right."

"What?"

She had taken up another fork-full of spaghetti and chewed it slowly. He waited.

She swallowed again and took a couple more sips of water.

Then she said, "I did it."

"You -- you ---" he sputtered.

"Yes. Listen, sweetheart, your son ..."

"Oh, so now he's MY son? And a fine Mom you are, ruining his trick!"

"Okay, our son," she amended. "Our son was getting entirely too cocky about this magic trick thing. He's been snubbing everyone else in magic class and sneering at his little cousins who don't learn magic. I had to do it."

"What did you do?"

"So the coins are supposed to be in his sleeve cuffs and the wand is hollow and they go down that and by sleight of hand he makes it look like they came out of the purse."

"I know that. I want to know what you did."

"Simple. I took the coins out as I was helping him put the suit on. I'm a bit of a magician myself, he didn't feel a thing."

"I don't know what to say. I feel bad for Martin."

"You won't when you see him magically transformed to a nicer boy! And you, my dearest, are a magician with spaghetti. This is the best i've ever tasted."


Words: 767 For "The Writer's Cramp"