“I don’t think I can afford that,” he said sadly.

The old man started to say something, then paused. He looked into the distance, nodded as if he was listening to something, then blinked. His eyes widened in surprise. After a moment he shrugged and turned to Justin. “How much money do you have?”

Though he was tempted to turn and run, Justin dug in his pocket. “Forty-seven cents,” he said at last.

The old man sighed. “We’ll consider that a down payment. Assuming the trick is satisfactory, you will owe me . . .” He paused, did a calculation on his fingers, then said, “Three days and fifty-seven minutes.”

“What?”

“You heard me! Now do you want it or not?” Something in the old man’s voice made it clear that “not” was not an acceptable answer. Swallowing hard, Justin said, “I’ll take it.”

The old man nodded. “The instructions are inside. We’ll work out your payment schedule later. Right now, it’s late, and I am tired. Take the side door. It will get you home more quickly.”

Justin nodded and hurried out the side door.

To his astonishment, he found himself standing beside the tree once more. He would have thought the whole thing had been a dream . . . if not for the small cardboard box in his hands.

Justin walked home slowly. The later it was when he got there, the greater the chance his uncle would be asleep.

Luck was with him; Uncle Rafe lay snoring on the couch, a scattering of empty beer cans on the floor beside him.

Justin tiptoed up the stairs to his room. He set the box on his desk, then used his pocketknife to cut the tape that held it shut. He wasn’t sure what he would find inside; clearly it was too small to hold the entire trick. Probably he’d have to go out and buy the trunk and stuff, which would mean that he’d never get to try it.

The box contained two items: a small instruction book and a bag that—to Justin’s astonishment—shook out to be as large as the canvas sack the magician had used.

The fabric was smooth and silky, and the colors shifted and changed as he looked at it. It was very beautiful, and at first he was afraid that it would be easy to tear. But it felt oddly strong beneath his fingers.

He opened the instruction booklet.

The directions were written by hand, in a strange spidery script. On the first page of the booklet were the following words: WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS TRICK UNLESS YOU REALLY MEAN IT. DO NOT EVEN TURN THE PAGE UNLESS YOU ARE SERIOUS.

Justin rolled his eyes . . . and turned the page.

The directions here were even weirder: