Philip and the Superstition Kid (9781452430423) Read online




  Philip and the Superstition Kid

  By John Paulits

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © August, 2010, John Paulits

  Cover Art Copyright © 2010 by Charlotte Holley

  Gypsy Shadow Publishing

  Manchaca, TX

  www.gypsyshadow.com

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this eBook are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this eBook may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and eMail, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For Becky Lee

  Chapter One

  Philip looked out his bedroom window and smiled. Splashes of sunshine glinted off the windows of the houses across the street. The summer breeze blew gently through the window screen, just strong enough that his hair tickled his neck a little as the breeze ruffled it. Philip usually associated good smells with chocolate and bakeries, but right now the sweet aroma of somebody’s newly mown lawn made Philip inhale deeply. Today was the first official day of summer vacation; fourth grade was a thing of the past; and the long, beautiful, wonderful-smelling summer lay ahead, day after endless joyful day.

  Below and to his right Philip saw his best friend Emery step out of his front door. Philip hurried from his room, dashed down the stairs, and bolted outside. He waved to Emery and crossed the street. Emery walked toward him.

  “Emery.” Philip smiled and opened his arms wide. “Welcome to summer vacation.”

  Emery glared at him unresponsively.

  Philip lowered his arms. Now what? he wondered. “Summer vacation, Emery,” he reminded his friend.

  “I dreamed a dream last night,” Emery said gloomily.

  “So what? Everybody does that.”

  “Not like this they don’t. There goes the summer.” Emery moved his hand like he was shooing away a fly.

  Mrs. Logan lived at the corner, and there was an empty space inside the thick bushes near the back of her house Philip and Emery used as a hidden clubhouse. Mrs. Logan rarely left her house—Emery insisted she was a hundred and four years old, but Philip said that was impossible—so no one bothered them when they sat in the shady coolness, unknown to the world. They were on their way there now out of habit.

  “Emery, vacation just started,” Philip said impatiently. “How could a dream spoil the summer? It’s only the first day for Pete’s sake.”

  “You know those stupid rabbits’ feet we all got at Kevin’s party last week?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re not good luck.”

  “Whoever said they were?”

  Emery looked at Philip sadly. “Everybody knows that a rabbit’s foot is supposed to bring luck. That’s why people chop off the rabbit’s foot—to get good luck.”

  Philip winced at Emery’s description.

  “That’s just make believe,” Philip argued.

  “It’s not. Look it up. Why would people keep chopping off rabbits’ feet just for make-believe?”

  “Stop talking about chopping off feet, okay?” Philip said, his voice rising.

  “I carried my rabbit’s foot around since the party, and I didn’t have any bad luck.”

  Philip waited. Then he asked, “Did you have any good luck?”

  Emery shrugged. “I got promoted,” he offered.

  Philip could feel his exasperation beginning to build as it always did when Emery started acting weird. “I got promoted, too, and I don’t even know where my stupid rabbit’s foot got to. And I didn’t have any bad luck this week either. And everybody got promoted.”

  “The babies didn’t cry as much this week,” Emery argued. Emery had two infant sisters.

  “They’re getting older. They’ll cry less anyway. What about the dream?”

  “I figured that if I got good luck during the day carrying the rabbit’s foot, then I was wasting it at night just leaving it on my bureau, so last night I decided to put it under my pillow to get good luck when I was sleeping.”

  Philip shook his head and in a loud voice cried, “What kind of good luck can you have when you’re asleep? Nothing happens when you’re asleep.”

  “I didn’t fall out of bed,” Emery said.

  “Did you ever fall out of bed before?”

  Emery thought a minute. “I don’t remember that I did.”

  “So there. You wouldn’t fall out of bed anyway. I didn’t fall out of bed. My mother and father didn’t fall out of bed. A zillion million people didn’t fall out of bed. What did the rabbit’s foot have to do with it?”

  Emery shrugged.

  “The dream?” Philip said impatiently.

  The boys had reached the corner and, with a quick look around to assure themselves that no one was watching, ducked alongside Mrs. Logan’s house and crawled into their hideaway.

  “It was weird,” Emery said reluctantly, looking at Philip. The boys sprawled on the sparse grass in the deep shade.

  Philip pressed his lips together as if he was going to burst. When Emery saw Philip’s eyes widening, he said, “Okay, I’ll tell you. I dreamed that me and you . . .”

  “I was in the dream?”

  Emery nodded. “I told you it was awful.”

  Philip frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “Me and you were somehow on a bouncing boat. I don’t know how we got there. But we were going up and down and up and down.” Emery moved his hand in time with his description.

  Philip grabbed Emery’s hand and lowered it. “Up and down, yeah?”

  “Suddenly we were crashed up onto an island and it got dark. We were alone in the dark. We didn’t like it because we knew we would never get off of that island forever. And it was dark.”

  “Dark, yeah, you already said it was dark. What happened then?”

  “Then the worst thing happened. We weren’t alone anymore.”

  Philip felt something give a tiny jump in his stomach. “What was it?” Philip asked. He gave Emery all of his attention.

  “This . . . this thing started making a loud noisy clomp, clomp, clomp, like big footsteps coming at us. We both turned and looked and I said to you that we would be stuck on that island with whatever was coming at us forever. You started crying . . .”

  “Wait a minute. You sure it was me that started crying? Are you sure it was me at all?”

  “It was you.”

  “You didn’t start crying?

  “No,” Emery answered, as if astonished at the possibility.

  Philip made a disgusted face. “What was the thing?”

  “Well, it was . . . you won’t believe this . . .”

  “Emery, what was it?” Philip cried.

  “Hey guys,” came a voice close to the two boys.

  “Ahhhhh!” both boys cried.

  “Don’t worry,” replied a voice followed by a goofy laugh. “Yuk yuk. It’s just me.”

  The bushes shook and rattled and into t
he empty space crawled Leon Jakoosawitz, Emery’s unlucky cousin, a boy who brought bad luck and disaster with him like a black cloud wherever he went.

  “Leon,” Emery cried angrily, “what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here. How’d you know we were here?”

  Philip gave Emery a look that said he’d better take care of this and get rid of Leon quickly.

  “I saw you now, and I saw you come here before.”

  “Well, go away,” Emery ordered. “We didn’t invite you here.” The only time Emery was polite to his cousin was when the grown-ups were nearby and listening.

  “Yuk yuk yuk,” Leon laughed in his deep and slow laugh. “Don’t kid me. I know I can stay.” Leon jangled three rabbits’ feet hanging from the belt of his jeans.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Emery asked.

  “Means I’m lucky. No more bad luck for me. ’Member how I used to have bad luck?”

  Philip and Emery glanced at one another and Emery said, “We remember, Leon.” He and Philip had seen Leon trip, fall, get hurt, knock things over, break things, step in things, lose things, forget things . . . the list of Leon’s bad luck was endless.

  “It just means you’re superstitious,” Philip chimed in. “How can the foot of a dead rabbit bring luck? It didn’t bring the rabbit much luck and he had four of them.”

  “Yuk yuk yuk,” Leon laughed. “That’s funny. Bring the rabbit much luck.”

  Philip rolled his eyes and looked threateningly at Emery.

  “You gotta go, Leon,” Emery repeated.

  “This is my lucky day. Wanna know why?”

  Neither Philip nor Emery answered.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you. My parents are going on vacation tomorrow and didn’t want to take me.”

  Philip went “Ha.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Emery mumbled loud enough for Leon to hear.

  Leon gave the two boys a hurt look and said, “I was supposed to go to Ohio to my Aunt Marie’s house, but now . . . ” He jangled his rabbits’ feet again. “ . . . I don’t have to because Aunt Marie said she was going away, too.”

  “There’s a surprise,” Emery mumbled again.

  Leon ignored him and sang, “So I don’t have to go-o. I don’t have to go-o.”

  “Leon, be quiet,” Philip ordered angrily. Nothing annoyed Philip more than Leon making up one of his ridiculous jingles and singing it over and over and over again. “Nobody knows we’re here. If they find out, we’ll get chased and this is a good place.”

  In a quieter voice Leon sang, “I don’t have to go-o. I don’t have to go-o.”

  “Leon, shut up!” Emery threatened.

  Leon’s mouth snapped shut and he smiled smugly.

  “What?” Emery asked impatiently.

  Leon’s mouth began to move. The boys could tell he was singing something again but no sound came out.

  Philip felt his stomach began to shrink into an aggravated ball. Then he read Leon’s lips.

  “Oh no!” Philip cried. “Emery!”

  “What?” Emery asked in alarm. He stared at Leon and read his lips, too. “Philip, that was the dream! The thing on the island was Leon! A gigantic Leon coming out of the trees, and we were going to be stuck on that island with him forever.”

  Leon’s voice got louder. He smiled, looked straight at Emery, and sang loud enough for him to hear, “I’m gonna stay with you-u. I’m gonna stay with you-u.”

  Chapter Two

  “You’re gonna stay—in my house—in my bed—with me—for how long?” Emery cried.

  “Yep. No Aunt Marie in Ohio for me. For a week, I guess.” Leon jangled his three rabbits’ feet and laughed his deep, strange laugh. “Yuk yuk.”

  “How come you got luck?” Emery asked, fuming. “I used my rabbit’s foot all week and didn’t get any special good luck. I put it under my pillow last night and got rotten luck.” He glanced knowingly at Philip.

  Leon explained. “Because there’s only so much good luck around, and three rabbits’ feet beats one. All the good luck came to me.”

  Philip butted in. “Suppose Emery used four rabbits’ feet. Then he’d get the luck.” Philip didn’t believe in any of this rabbit’s foot/good luck stuff, but he wanted Emery to win this battle.

  Leon gave a loud yuk. “Then I’d buy two more and have five.”

  “Yeah,” Emery argued, “well I’d buy two more and have six.”

  “So, I’d get seven.”

  “Then I’d get eight.”

  Philip nodded, urging Emery on.

  “You couldn’t,” Leon smiled confidently.

  “Why not?” Emery demanded.

  “Because it would cost you too much money.”

  “It would cost you money, too,” Emery snapped back.

  Leon smiled and his chipped tooth caught Philip’s eye. Leon had been jumping on his bed once, he had told them, and missed.

  “I got lots of money. I found it because I have my lucky rabbits’ feet.” He jangled the feet again and then got to his knees and jangled his pocket. They heard the tinkle of coins.

  Philip and Emery looked at one another.

  “You found money?” Philip asked softly.

  “How much?” Emery asked.

  “Oh,” Leon started counting on his fingers. “Two quarters, two dimes, five pennies, and a nickel.”

  “Where’d you find the money?” Philip asked.

  “Just looking around. The rabbits’ feet made it be there.”

  “Pffffff,” Philip scoffed.

  “There was a nickel just out there now.” Leon pointed.

  “I didn’t see any nickel,” Emery said.

  Leon jangled his rabbits’ feet again and smiled. “’Course not.”

  “Stop shaking your feet,” Emery said in annoyance.

  Leon sat back down and waggled his own feet. “Yuk yuk,” he laughed.

  Emery moaned and Philip rolled his eyes.

  Suddenly, a dog started barking. Leon’s eyes widened.

  “What’s the matter?” Philip asked.

  “A dog barking. If two dogs bark it means trouble.”

  “What?” Philip said, making a doubtful face.

  Leon sucked in a deep breath when a second dog began to bark. Both dogs began barking at once.

  “We better not leave here for a while,” Leon said fearfully.

  “You’re goofy,” said Philip. “Let’s go, Emery. We’re not superstitious like you, Leon.”

  “Uh, well, okay,” Emery agreed hesitantly.

  Philip got onto his hands and knees to crawl through the secret entrance back out into the world.

  “Better not,” Leon warned.

  Emery followed behind Philip.

  Philip put his hand into a covering of dead leaves and felt something stab his palm. “Yow!”

  Emery heard a buzzing in his ear. “Bee!” he cried, and crawled ahead as fast as he could.

  Philip was balanced on one hand, trying to find out what had stabbed him, when Emery crashed into his rear end and sent him sprawling. Emery did not want the bee to sting him so he desperately tried to climb over Philip.

  “Bee!” he cried again, finally getting by his stretched out friend. When he poked his head out of the bushes, though, he stopped abruptly. A big dog stood on the sidewalk staring his way. “Big dog,” Emery reported and started crawling backward.

  “Watch out,” Philip cried as Emery slithered over top of him again. “Get off me.”

  “Big dog, little bee,” Emery warned, backing into the empty space in the bushes.

  “Told you,” Leon gloated.

  Philip backed into the empty space. “You think I’m invisible or something,” he snapped at Emery. “You kicked me a million times and stepped on me, too.” He looked at his injured hand and gasped. A good-sized thorn was stuck in the fat part of his palm under his thumb. He stuck out his hand to show Emery.

  “Take it out,” Emery advised.

  Philip grasped the sides of
the thorn and yanked. “Argh,” he cried and began shaking his hand. When he checked again a tiny bubble of blood had poked out of the thorn hole.

  A dog barked again.

  “Shhhhh,” Leon cautioned.

  A full minute passed by without any other dog answering the first dog.

  “It’s okay now,” Leon smiled, nodding with certainty.

  Philip and Emery glared at him.

  “Every time he shows up,” Philip mumbled to Emery, pronouncing each word carefully. Then to Leon he said, “If it’s okay, you go first.”

  “Yeah, you go,” Emery agreed. Under his breath he continued, “Troublemaker.”

  Leon closed his eyes and grabbed his rabbits’ feet in one hand. Philip saw Leon’s lips move slightly.

  “Okay,” Leon said with a wave.

  Philip and Emery followed Leon through the bushes and stood up when they’d reached the outside world.

  “See,” Leon pointed to the empty sidewalk and gave one of his yuk yuk laughs. “All clear. No bees. No dogs. Yuk yuk.”

  “A whole week,” Emery muttered, as he and Philip followed Leon onto the sidewalk.

  “Hey!” Leon cried and he ran ahead a short distance. He bent and picked up something. “Another nickel.” He held up the nickel and then turned and walked happily down the street toward Emery’s house singing, “I found a nick-el. I found a nick-el.”

  Philip and Emery lagged behind, their stomachs gathering into frustrated, angry knots. Philip put his hands over his ears to drown Leon out and tried to imagine what seven whole days of Leon was going to be like.

  Chapter Three

  Philip and Emery stood on the path leading to Emery’s front door and watched Leon continue down the sidewalk. Emery had asked Leon to go right home and make sure his parents were really starting their vacation tomorrow.

  “I want to know when all the fun’s going to start,” Emery had told him. Leon was only too happy to oblige.

  “Why is he always singing?” Philip asked with a shake of his head. “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back,” he mimicked. “He must have sung that a million times after he got tired of the nickel song.”