House of a Thousand Screams Read Free

whispered as the tape began.
    I nodded. Freddy had to be right. Uncle Solly looked much younger in the tape than Freddy and I had ever seen him. But he was still big and fat, and his cape flared behind him. He wore a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, perched on the very end of his nose.
    Although the video was in color, there was no sound track. Uncle Solly’s mouth moved, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying.
    Not that you needed to. Watching him was good enough. His hands blurred as they plucked cards and silk scarves and flowers from the air. His wand turned into a huge silk square. Then, from the empty square, he produced a live pig! I’d never seen a magician produce a pig before.
    All the while, things floated around Uncle Solly. Tables, chairs, fishbowls, boxes—even a volunteer from the audience. How did they stay up? Freddy and I stared and stared, but we couldn’t see any wires. Only good old Uncle Solly, calmly doing his card tricks and rope tricks.
    Finally, he moved his hands as if he were twirling a lasso. We laughed as he jumped through an imaginary loop. Then he made sweeping motions with his arms, spinning the invisible lasso above his head. He turned to the side of the stage and cast his loop. It looked exactly as if he were roping a steer!
    â€œYee-hah!” Freddy yelled.
    I stared, fascinated. Uncle Solly was hauling on his imaginary rope as if he’d lassoed a wild bull. From the stage wings floated a table with a box on top. We laughed at the way the table seemed to fight against the invisible rope. “How did he do that?” I cried.
    Soon Uncle Solly brought the table under control.It settled to the stage in front of him. The camera swept over the applauding audience and then back to a smiling, bowing Uncle Solly. We clapped too. “Someday I’m going to be as good as he was,” Freddy vowed.
    Uncle Solly’s beaming smile seemed to fade a little as he turned back to the box. The camera zoomed in, and we could see the box clearly. Its front was decorated with ugly, grinning carved faces.
    Uncle Solly’s forehead creased, and his hands fluttered in the air over the box. “Wow! He looks like he’s really concentrating,” Freddy whispered.
    â€œThat’s just part of the act,” I answered.
    The box lid suddenly flew open.
    A big, hairy monster stuck its head out.
    â€œWhoa!” Without thinking, I jerked back in my seat.
    The monster was ugly. Really ugly. It opened its mouth and we gasped at the sight of dripping greenish fangs. Its long, clawed fingers tore at the rim of the box. Its blue fur looked greasy and matted. Its eyes held an evil red glare.
    Uncle Solly flicked his fingers. The monster swayed, its gaze glued to Uncle Solly’s magic hands.
    â€œThat’s one ugly puppet,” Freddy murmured.
    So that’s what it was. A puppet. I felt stupidly relieved. “How does it move?” I asked. “I don’t see any strings.”
    Freddy rolled his eyes. “If you knew anything about magic, you’d know the puppeteer is underneath the table,” he said in his most superior, Brainiac voice.
    â€œOh, yeah?” I retorted, annoyed. “Well, I’m looking under the table right now. And there’s nothing there but table legs.”
    â€œIt’s a mirror trick,” Freddy answered. As if that explained everything.
    On the tape, Uncle Solly stopped waving his hands and stepped back.
    The puppet began to move on its own! Balls and rings popped out of the air around it, and the puppet juggled them. First three. Then four. Then seven. Then nine!
    â€œThat’s impossible,” Freddy said.
    I was still annoyed with him. “Obviously not,” I replied.
    Freddy shook his head vigorously. “No, it really is unbelievable!” he declared. “It looks like real magic! No puppeteer could do that—make a puppet juggle nine balls.”
    â€œJust because you don’t know