Houdini and Me by Dan Gutman (large screen ebook reader txt) 📕

of the trunk with Houdini locked inside it, and a few seconds later Houdini was standing on top of the trunk with Bess inside the sack.

I had watched a bunch of magicians duplicate Metamorphosis on YouTube. You can watch them yourself. But I could never figure out how they pulled it off. Obviously it was a trick, but how was it done? How did they make the switch at all? How did they do it so fast? The trunk was padlocked and bound with ropes.

“What was the secret to Metamorphosis?” I tapped.

“SIMPLE,” Houdini replied. “THE BOX HAD A REAR PANEL THAT OPENED INWARD. I’D CLIMB OUT OF THE BOX WHILE BESS WAS TALKING AND THEN BESS WOULD CLIMB IN.”

Smart! If the panel opened in, it wouldn’t affect the ropes that were wrapped around the trunk.

“But how did you get out of the sack and get Bess into it so fast?” I tapped.

“THERE WAS A SLIT IN THE BOTTOM OF THE SACK,” he replied. “I WOULD CLIMB OUT WHILE BESS WAS LOCKING THE TRUNK AND SHE WOULD CLIMB IN WHILE I WAS UNLOCKING IT. THE TIMING HAD TO BE PERFECT.”

“But what about the clapping?” I asked. “Bess clapped her hands three times, and then instantly she was in the box.”

“THAT WASN’T BESS CLAPPING,” Houdini texted. “IT WAS ME. BESS WAS ALREADY IN THE TRUNK BY THEN.”

Of course!

Once you knew how a trick worked, it seemed so obvious. I slapped my forehead.

But what did Metamorphosis have to do with me? I wasn’t going to go on a stage and get locked inside a trunk. I was about to tap in words to that effect when Houdini sent me another text.…

“HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO A METAMORPHOSIS?”

What? I couldn’t imagine what he had in mind.

“That’s impossible,” I tapped. “We exist in different centuries.”

“NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE,” Houdini tapped right back. “YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT BY NOW.”

Yeah, nothing is impossible…for him. For an average person, it sometimes seemed impossible to escape from the problems in his or her life. But Houdini could escape from anything. If he could escape from handcuffs and jail cells and padlocked trunks, maybe it made people believe they could escape from whatever was confining them. Poverty. Depression. Disease. Nothing was impossible.

I was finally beginning to put two and two together.

“Are you saying you want to switch places with me?” I tapped.

“YES.”

Aha. At last I understood the real reason why Houdini had contacted me. It seemed crazy, but he wanted me to help him get out of the only thing he could never escape from.

He wanted to escape his own death.

“I…don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I tapped.

“WHY NOT?” he texted. “YOU CAN BRING ME BACK. I DIED YOUNG. I WANT TO BE ALIVE AGAIN.”

This was getting scary. I wanted to help the guy, but what if I did and Houdini was alive again? Would that be legal? What if I changed history for the worse? I was beginning to regret that I had ever communicated with Houdini in the first place. I didn’t know what to do.

“I AM DESPERATE,” he texted.

“I have to go,” I tapped.

“DON’T!” he texted. “STOP! DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!”

He was freaking me out. Instinctively, I snapped the flip phone shut and hung up on him. I didn’t want to deal with this right now. But a few seconds later…

Bzzzzz…bzzzzz…bzzzzz…

He wasn’t going to give up. I thought about ignoring the text. What could he do? Come and get me? Make me disappear, like he famously did with an elephant in 1918?

Bzzzzz…bzzzzz…bzzzzz…

Against my better judgment, I opened the phone again.

“WE MUST HAVE HAD A BAD CONNECTION,” he texted.

“So let me get this straight,” I tapped. “You get to come to the 21st century. And what? I get to be dead? That doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”

“NO,” he replied. “YOU DON’T GET TO BE DEAD. YOU GET TO BE ME!”

“Huh?” I finally tapped, after looking at the phone for a long time.

“DON’T YOU WANT TO BE THE MOST FAMOUS MAN IN THE WORLD?”

“I’m not sure.”

That was the truth. I’ve often thought it would be cool to be a famous celebrity. But then, it would be a drag to have people following me around and asking me to sign autographs and stuff all the time. Who needs that aggravation?

“IT WOULD JUST BE TEMPORARY,” Houdini texted.

“How long?” I tapped.

“ONE HOUR.”

“So you would be in my century for one hour and I would be in your century for one hour?”

“EXACTLY,” he texted. “I CAN MAKE THAT HAPPEN.”

One hour. That didn’t seem very long. It could be fun. That is, if he could pull it off.

“How do you do that?” I tapped.

“THROUGH METAMORPHOSIS. I AM HOUDINI, REMEMBER?”

It sounded like a lot of crap to me. How could he possibly send himself to my time and send me to his? But then, how was he texting me in the first place? It was like magic. He was a magician, after all. Nothing was impossible.

“When?” I tapped.

“THERE IS NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT,” he texted.

“Give me a minute,” I tapped.

I needed to think things over. If we did a Metamorphosis right now, I would just be gone for an hour. Then I’d be back. My mother would never know I was gone. Nobody would know. I could just get up in the morning and go to school like nothing had happened. It could be cool. I’d have a memory to last a lifetime.

“What do I have to do?” I tapped.

“NOTHING,” he texted. “HANG UP. LIE DOWN. LEAVE THE REST TO ME.”

“Okay,” I tapped. “I trust you. Goodbye.”

“THANK YOU,” he texted.

Why was I trusting him? I asked myself. I didn’t know this guy. Oh, what difference did it make? He probably can’t do it anyway. What did I have to lose?

I closed the phone and put it back in the drawer. This was it. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to do it. It was risky, I knew. Maybe I would regret it. But my mom always told me you’ve got