The Trouble with Secrets Read Online Free Page B

drink much.” Mr. Bishop wiped his mouth on his sleeve and he said:
    “Recycle the magic, rekindle the spell.
    Polish the pot and perform the charm well.”
    B’s cauldron emptied as little whirring objects leaped out of the cauldron and hopped back into an open drawer. B could barely see what they were, except she knew they were unfamiliar. “Hey, those weren’t the things I put in,” she said. “What happened?”
    “I drank some of it,” Mr. Bishop said, “which changed the individual components. Now, try it again. You had the right idea with your ingredients but I think you lacked a little focus.”
    B tried again, this time with other ingredients: a tiny plastic rabbit, a ripe strawberry, a bit of paper folded into an origami swan, a quarter minted the year she was born, which, naturally, made it lucky.She spelled “laughter” again and tried to concentrate. Mr. Bishop took a sip.
    “Iiiiiiii’m not feeling funny,’
Mr. Bishop warbled in a lovely bass singing voice.
“Iiiiiii just feel like singing! Sing, sing, sing, sing, singing my cares awaaaaaaayyyy …”
    All the other witches in the laboratory turned to watch. B desperately wanted to duck down below the counters and wait till the tiny smidge of potion Mr. Bishop drank wore off.
    At last Mr. Bishop’s mouth clamped shut. He loosened his collar, blushing even brighter than B. “Whew!” he said. “That was a first.”
    “You could teach music,” B said, “but maybe I should test my own potions. C-L-E-A-N,” she told the cauldron, then to her teacher she added, “It would save you the risk.”
    “As your teacher, I need to test them to see if they work, or I won’t know how to help you fix them,” Mr. Bishop said. “But listen, B, this is important. Don’t make any potions at home and give them to anyone. Not until I’ve signed off on them, okay?”
    “Sure,” B said. She couldn’t imagine a reason why she would. “My potions wouldn’t even polish the furniture.”
    “Nonsense,” her teacher said. “You’re off to a great start. Your potions are doing
something
— just not the something you want, yet. Be patient. Some witches just plain can’t do potions at all, did you know that? Now, let’s have one more try with the laughter potion. Maybe change the word you spell a bit.”
    B sighed and searched yet again for ingredients. She found an empty soda can, which reminded her of a hilarious moment in a movie. She found a bit of cord, which made her think of microphones and stand-up comedians. And she found a dog collar, which reminded her of George’s dog, Butterbrains, who was always “playing dead,” sticking his long shaggy legs up in the air. “L-A-U-G-H,” she spelled, half giggling as she said it.
    Mr. Bishop took a taste, and immediately started chuckling. “You’ve got it! Ha-ha!”
    “I think I get it,” B said. “Or I’m beginning to. It’s not enough just to think about laughter. I have toreally get myself in the right frame of mind. So in this case, I had to get myself laughing!”
    “You’re on the right track. Hee-hee! Pour the rest into a bottle, and stopper it. A good laughing potion is always valuable.” B did as her teacher said. “This potion earns the Bishop Seal of Approval. Congratulations on an excellent first lesson. Now, let’s go back to school.”

Chapter 6
    As soon as Mr. Bishop deposited B back in the English classroom, she sprinted out of the school and down the street toward the park. Her watch told her she only had five minutes to reach George at the park.
Speedy feet sure would come in handy now,
B thought. But she knew better than to try it. She used her Crystal Ballphone — a recent gift from her parents in honor of her finding her magic — to make a quick call home, letting Mom know about her plans to go to the fair, and her first-ever potion at her first-ever magic lesson. Mom was proud, as B knew she would be.
    All in all, she was only three minutes late when she found her