The Runaway Spell Read online

  The train car was three-quarters full when a young man in a zoo T-shirt got on board. “Hi, folks,” he said. “I’m Mack, and I’ll be your safari guide today. I’m a junior at Springfield State College, majoring in zoology.”

  B noticed Dawn sit up a little straighter, and Angela adjust her hair.

  “The most important safety rule today is to stay in your seats, and don’t, under any circumstances, attempt to open the door of the train car, okay? Remember, they look fascinating, but these are wild animals we’re dealing with. We don’t want anybody hurt — not the animals, and not you folks. Okay, everyone ready? Here we go.”

  The train lurched forward. At first B saw nothing but trees.

  “Giraffes!” a little girl cried.

  Mack described the zoo’s giraffe families, including the two calves that had been born there that year, as the train chugged forward. B watched the giraffes eat leaves off the treetops until the train turned a corner and passed through another gate.

  “There’s a special kind of animal in this enclosure,” Mack said. “Sometimes we don’t see them if they’re resting. Can anyone guess what’s in here?”

  B scanned the grassy landscape, looking for black and white stripes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a tawny flash of fur.

  “LION!” George screamed. “RUN!” He raced down the aisle of the train car and climbed onto the rear seat, whinnying in terror.

  “Whoa, buddy!” Mack cried. “It’s okay; you’re safe inside the train!”

  B caught a glimpse of a brown mane and a huge, lanky body loping across the enclosure. She hurried down the aisle to George and yanked his arm till he sat down with a thud. Other zoo visitors shot disapproving glances at them, and Dawn sent B a what-on-earth-is-going-on look. B patted George’s shoulder until he settled down.

  The train left the lion enclosure and entered the elephant area. The occupants of the train ran to the windows, oohing and aahing about the baby elephants, and B sighed with relief as the focus shifted off the backseat.

  “You okay, George?”

  “I think so,” George panted. “Did you see the size of that guy? He could have eaten me for lunch!”

  “Well, he didn’t,” B said.

  “Look, zebras!” the same little girl cried. The train had entered another gated area.

  B’s heartbeat raced. This was the moment. But here she was, stuck inside a train! How was she ever going to get her hands on a zebra hair? Could magic help? To be so close, and still not get a hair …

  She could see the zebras now, some running through the field, others grazing placidly. They were beautiful, she had to admit, but all she could think about were those millions of zebra hairs, just out of reach!

  George pressed his nose against the glass. “Look at ’em, B! Have you ever seen something so amazing?”

  “Well, um …” B didn’t have time to finish. George clambered over her, unbolted the rear emergency exit door, and jumped off the train!

  Chapter 15

  The emergency alarm shrilled.

  Brakes hissed as the train came to a stop.

  “Get back here, kid!” Mack cried. He whipped out a walkie-talkie. “Security, we have a situation in the zebra pen. Send a coupla guys, pronto!”

  B watched George’s back, racing off toward the zebras, then looked at Dawn and her friends, whose mouths were still hanging open in shock.

  What could she do? The only way out of this mess was to get a zebra hair!

  B leaped through the door and followed George.

  “Come back here!” Mack hollered.

  B sprinted through the tall grass. George was well ahead of her, and pulling farther away. I couldn’t catch George even if he wasn’t a zebra, B thought, but I have to try.

  The zebras, grazing in groups, looked like a stripy optical illusion in the distance. One of them raised its head, ears pricked, and soon the whole herd was alert, hearing George’s footsteps approaching.

  “Hey, you kids! Stop this instant and come back to the train!”

  B glanced over her shoulder to see Mack and another zoo worker racing after them.

  Uh-oh.

  The zebras broke off their grazing and galloped around the perimeter of the pen in long, graceful strides, their black tails streaming. George swerved to follow them, his long legs flying. A pair of elephants, watching from over the fence, trumpeted at all the excitement.

  “Forget the girl, get that crazy boy!” Mack called to his comrade. The zoo workers passed B and closed in on George. He ran in a zigzag, just like the zebras were doing. He let out a loud whinny, and a few of the younger zebras paused and turned to look back at him.

  There was no way she could catch up to George now, so B paused to catch her breath. It was all she could do not to flop in the grass.

  Then she saw them, not far off, hiding behind a thicket of bushes — a mother zebra and her calf, who had ducked underneath her round belly. The mother zebra watched the commotion warily.

  B tried to still her breath so the zebras wouldn’t be startled. She stared at them through the leafy cover.

  For a second B forgot everything else. The zebra was magnificent! Her muscles rippled under her smooth hide, and the stark black and white of her stripes was dazzling. Her mane stood stiff and upright, as B had learned from her zebra research. But to see one here, so close, breathing, watching, and nuzzling her calf, made all the online photographs insignificant by comparison.

  “H-A-I-R,” B whispered, hoping not to scare the mother zebra away.

  Her pointy ears twitched, but she didn’t run. Something twinged on the top of her mane, and a stiff black hair floated into B’s outstretched hand.

  “Gotcha!” the security guards cried, and B turned just in time to see Mack nail George with a perfect football tackle. Gripping the hair tightly, she hurried over to see if her best friend was okay.

  He was. He’d landed in a cushy spot: the soft mud around the zebras’ drinking hole.

  “I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” Angela declared on the bus back home. “Next time your sister wants us to take her somewhere, Dawn, will you please make sure she leaves her immature friends at home?”

  B avoided Dawn’s glare.

  “We won’t be taking either of them to the zoo any time soon,” Stef said, “since they’ve both been banned for a year!”

  “They don’t need to rub our noses in it,” George muttered to B. The mud on his face and shirt was slowly forming a crust.

  B bit her lip. She couldn’t exactly defend George for what he’d done, and yet, she was as much to blame for turning him half zebra in the first place.

  “I’m just bummed that they wouldn’t even let us stay long enough to buy ice cream,” Macey said. “You owe us, B.”

  B nodded. Ice cream was the least of her worries. What would her parents say when they heard about this? More important, would the concoction fix George?

  Dawn glared at B. B could feel a lecture coming on. Sure enough, “B, I suppose you thought you were helping,” Dawn said, “but that was so ridiculous of you to go chasing after George. The zebras could have trampled you to death! What if George had spooked them, and they’d stampeded?”

  “Look at the bright side,” Macey said. “At least he chased after zebras, not alligators.”

  “The only bright side is that it’s over,” Dawn said. “Let’s get the kids home, then go uptown to the Magical Moo. I think we all need to unwind. My treat.”

  Dawn turned and shot B a raised-eyebrow look. The look was sister-code for, “You’re gonna pay me back for the ice cream tonight.”

  B nodded. Fair enough.

  At the bus stop, the girls headed uptown while George and B headed for home.

  “I don’t know what came over me back there, B,” George said. “I’m sorry I got you into trouble.”

  B sighed. “Don’t be sorry, George,” she said. “I’m the one that got you into trouble, really.”

  “Yeah,
but I persuaded you to do it in the first place,” George said.

  “So that makes us even. But listen, I’ve got … an idea.” She caught herself on the brink of saying, “A zebra hair!” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the bagged stinky soccer sock and the tissue she’d wrapped the zebra hair in. One from the original the brew, and hair of the beast that troubles you. I’ve got them both.

  But what should she spell? To reverse the spell and undo …

  She closed her eyes. “R-E-V-E-R-S-E.”

  She opened them and … oh, no!

  “Still got the tail; I can tell,” George said. Then he saw B. “What’s the matter?” he cried, panic in his voice.

  B pointed a shaky finger at him. “Your face!”

  George rubbed furiously at his cheeks. “What, the mud?”

  “Nope,” B said, putting a hand over her eyes. “You’ve got more zebra stripes.”

  Chapter 16

  B didn’t even look for George at the bus the next morning. She knew he’d be galloping to school, and she knew there was no way to hide the stripes. With each street the bus turned down, B felt disaster coming closer. She was in over her head; she had meddled with magic too advanced for her, and she knew she had to confess to Mr. Bishop. She couldn’t get out of this without his help. And she couldn’t let her friend be transformed into a zebra permanently.

  B dragged herself to her locker and through homeroom. “Did you see what George did this morning?” Jamal Burns said to B on the way to English. “He’s brave, man. He painted himself with tiger stripes for the big game.”

  “He … he did?” B tried to pretend she didn’t know. “Orange and black, like a tiger?”

  “He only painted the black ones. But it’s all over him. The rest of the team is jealous that he thought of it.”

  “That George,” B said, pretending to laugh. “He’s always thinking up something.” Leaving Jamal behind, B plowed her way through the halls, racing to English to be on the scene when Mr. Bishop first laid eyes on her friend.

  She found George all decked out in his team jersey and shorts, showing his arms, legs, neck, and face plastered with black zebra stripes. His tail was in plain view today, but no one seemed to pay attention to it, perhaps because he’d been wearing it nearly all week. His teammates were high-fiving him and examining his stripes admiringly.

  “My mom would never let me do that.”

  “I heard they were tattoos.”

  “Don’t be an idiot!”

  “You did your back, too? You’re crazy!”

  George beamed at B. “I love my stripes,” he said. “This is the best Spirit Week costume ever.”

  B sighed. She leaned over to George and whispered, “I’m turning myself in.”

  “Aw, come on,” he said. “Can’t you wait till after the game? I’m gonna play like crazy today. I can just feel it. Did you see how fast I was running yesterday at the zoo?”

  “Don’t remind me,” B said. “Personally, I might need a lifetime to forget yesterday at the zoo.”

  “But I need to be the Zebra to help us win the game!” George pleaded.

  Before B could respond, Mr. Bishop came into the room and class began. B watched her teacher like a hawk for any sign of special attention paid to George, curiosity, anything. But her magical English teacher seemed just like his usual cheerful self. He was decked out in school colors like everyone else, and wearing a cap with a huge tiger mascot made of foam rubber on top. He even complimented George on his school spirit, all without any sign of concern.

  When class ended, George stood up to leave, but B grabbed his arm.

  “We’re ending this now,” she whispered. She felt bad about disappointing George, but it was time to fix this.

  The other students had filed out, and B practically dragged George to Mr. Bishop’s desk.

  “Ready for the big game?” Mr. Bishop asked George.

  “I sure am,” George said. “I’m more ready than I’ve ever been.”

  B’s heart started thumping and she wanted to bolt out of the room, but she forced herself to stay. Dismantle Squad or no, she was going to have to face the consequences of her magic. “We really need your help, Mr. Bishop.”

  Mr. Bishop sat up. “Anything you need, B.”

  She was going to do it — confess that she had told George about her magic, that she had turned him into a zebra, and that she’d been hiding it for days — but in the long pause, George interrupted her.

  “B and I really want you to come to the game and cheer on the team,” George declared, nudging B hard.

  B stared at her best friend.

  Mr. Bishop smiled. “Of course! I’ve got to support my students and my school, right? I’ll be there.”

  “Great!” George said, grabbing B’s arm and pulling her away. “Gotta get to lunch now. I need my carbs.”

  In the hallway, George whispered, “Come on, B. Just let me have a couple more hours and then you can confess.”

  B sighed. If she had left it too late and the spell was actually permanent, it would be the least she could do to let George have his moment of glory as a superathlete.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  George let out an excited whinny and galloped off.

  B followed slowly, brooding.

  Would she lose her magic forever? Would she be banned from the witching community? What would happen to George?

  Had too much time passed since the first spell was cast? Would he remain a zebra-boy forever? Stripes today, forelegs tomorrow. That was probably how it would go.

  He wouldn’t be able to live at home anymore — they’d put him in the zoo. The zoo that B was banned from visiting!

  She ate her lunch like it was her last meal.

  After school, B went outside and climbed to the far end of the topmost bleacher to wait for the soccer game to start. She was too upset to want to talk to anyone.

  The referees in their black-and-white striped jerseys ran out onto the field. B winced at the sight. Zebras everywhere!

  Then the home team ran out to the loud beat of their warm-up song. They waved to the crowd in the rapidly filling bleachers, then each player pounded a ball into an unguarded goal. The junior cheerleaders squealed when George, as team captain, kicked the last ball in.

  “Goooooooo, TIGERS!” the cheerleaders screamed. “Gimme a T! Gimme an I! Gimme a G!”

  B was almost glad she didn’t feel like cheering. Those cheerleaders nearly tricked her into turning the whole squad into preteen tigresses. Pretty soon she’d have her own zoo, right here at the school.

  Just then, Mr. Bishop climbed up the bleacher steps and sat next to another teacher, still wearing his crazy tiger cap. B felt her body stiffen at the sight of him.

  No more magic lessons. No more magic, period.

  It was the price she had to pay.

  The whistle blew, and the game began. The home team Tigers, in their orange jerseys, played the neighboring Falcons, in blue. It wasn’t hard to spot George in the crowd — his height made him different enough, not to mention the stripes all over his body.

  But what was he doing out there? A teammate sent him a perfect pass, with an open shot at the goal, and instead of seizing the opportunity, George ignored the pass and ran in crazy circles around the defensive players from the other team. They punted the ball thirty yards back down the field, and the home team fans groaned.

  “C’mon, George,” B said under her breath. “You wanted zebra abilities for this game. You have to use them!”

  Coach Lyons rose from the bench and hollered, “Quit clowning around, George!” While the rest of the Tiger team had retreated back to play defense, George had gone down on all fours, sniffing a tuft of grass and taking a bite out of it.

  “What’s George doing?” some kids near B were saying. “Isn’t he the captain?”

  Just then the whistle blew. While B was watching George, the Falcons had scored a goal!

  It was painful to watch.
George couldn’t seem to pay attention to soccer when there was grass underfoot. Coach Lyons gave him one more chance, but the Falcons scored a second goal, and the Tigers coach benched his captain. A couple of kids booed.

  B sat with her chin in her hands. The second twenty minutes began, and the Tigers did their best without George. This was what he’d had been afraid of — getting benched. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to care. He was crawling under the bench, nosing the grass.

  George, you’re making me crazy!

  Then she blinked.

  Making me crazy. Troubling me.

  The hair of the beast that’s troubling you!

  What if the animal transformation reversal spell wasn’t talking about a hair from the type of animal, but hair from the actual animal whose transformation had gone wrong?

  In other words, a hair from George?

  Chapter 17

  B rose in the stands and hurried down the steps. She still had the stinky sock and zebra hair stuffed into the bottom of her backpack, so she could do the spell again.

  With George sitting right there on the bench, it shouldn’t be hard to snag a hair. But before B could reach him, Coach Lyons signaled the ref for a substitution. The other center forward had slipped and twisted his ankle.

  “No more shenanigans, George,” B heard the coach tell her friend. “You’ve got to turn this game around. Play like you’ve been playing in practice all week!”

  And he was gone. B slumped down into a seat on the front row, thinking hard. How could she reach George? She didn’t dare attempt a summoning spell for a piece of George’s hair, from so far away across the field. Someone might see the magic or she could summon the wrong thing entirely.

  Finally, the whistle blew for halftime. The players, flushed in the face, were trotting back to the bench. The score was still at 2–0.

  B slipped into the row right behind where the team would sit, hoping that George would sit down and she’d be able to snag a hair. But they didn’t sit. Coach Lyons kept them in a huddle for a long time. When it finally broke up, everyone went for water. George guzzled about a quart of it.