“You might be right. Well, I have this army uniform from our production of Hurricane Hall.”

“Hurricane Hall? What’s Hurricane Hall?” Not that Theo really cared, but he hated not knowing things.

“You don’t know Hurricane Hall? A novel published in 1848. A comedy of manners in the style of Jane Austen. A young black heroine is taken in by her rich, white New York City relatives when her white father dies. You really should know this, Theo.”

“It sounds familiar,” Theo grumbled. It didn’t.

“Oh, never mind. You’ll probably read it in high school. We set our production during World War II. Though I suppose this might call too much attention as well.” She set the uniform aside and pulled out a white satin shirt with big blue pom-poms down the front. “Hmmm . . . a clown? Perhaps too frightening. How about a woodland sprite? No, the leaf crown is far too itchy. No, not this. Not this, either.” She pawed through the costumes in one trunk and moved to the next. “I don’t suppose you want to dress as members of a chain gang? No, that wouldn’t be appropriate. I do have a giant ham sandwich costume around here somewhere.”

Just when Theo was certain that Aunt Esther would insist they dress up as candy bars with nougat, she said, “Aha! How about this?” She unrolled a nondescript set of slate-gray coveralls, shook them out. On the front pocket were the words ACME REPAIR CO.

“That could work,” Jaime said. “No one notices repair people.”

“Exactly,” said Aunt Esther. “And if you tuck your hair under a cap and put on a pair of these”—she held up a pair of mirrored sunglasses—“then no one will recognize you. I’ve got coveralls for the three of you.” She gave each of them a pair, plus glasses and a matching baseball cap. “And for your little friend, I have this!” She handed something diaphanous and crumpled to Jaime.

Jaime unfolded the rumpled item. “What . . . what is this?”

“It’s a Tinker Bell costume! Onstage, we put it on a parakeet, complete with this red wig. Oh, dear, I think the moths got to the wings. They’re looking a little chewed up.”

“Oh no,” said the robot.

“Uh, I think we might be okay if I just put Ono in my pocket,” Jaime said. He slipped on the coveralls and zipped up, and tucked his hair into the cap as he slid the glasses on. Then he gently slid the robot into the pocket on the front of his shirt.

“How do I look?”

“About twenty-five,” said Tess, impressed.

“Eighteen, tops,” Theo said.

Jaime grinned. “Not sure the hat is going to fit over your hair, Theo.”

“Maybe Theo could wear Tinker Bell’s wig,” Tess said.

“It would just float on top of his hair like a cherry on a sundae,” said Jaime.

“Maybe we could all dress as ghosts instead,” said Theo.