The Vanishing Quarter

The Vanishing Quarter

1For three weeks, Kenji had practiced one magic trick: making a quarter disappear. Every night after homework, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror and tried again. At first, Kenji's fingers were as clumsy as mittens. The coin slipped, clattered on the tile, and rolled behind the trash can as if it were trying to escape.

2His magic book called the hidden move a "sleight." A sleight is a quick, secret motion of the hand that fools the eye. Kenji's sleight was not quick, and it was not secret. In the mirror, he could see the silver edge of the coin peeking out between his knuckles every single time.

3"Slow down to speed up," said his older sister, Mei, leaning in the doorway. "Do the move a hundred times slowly, and your hands will remember it." Kenji groaned. A hundred times sounded like a mountain he would never reach the top of.

4But he tried it. He moved the coin from his fingertips to his palm, again and again, until the motion felt as smooth as butter on warm toast. By Friday, the coin was a shy little mouse that hid wherever he told it to.

5On Saturday, the whole family gathered in the kitchen for Grandpa's birthday. Kenji's stomach was full of butterflies as he stood at the end of the table. He held up the quarter, and the room went quiet. The silence was a held breath.

6Kenji closed his hand and blew on his fist. Then he opened his fingers one by one. His palm was empty. Grandpa's eyes were saucers. Mei clapped so hard that the forks on the table rattled.

7"Where did it go?" Grandpa asked. Kenji only smiled, as calm as a sleeping cat. He reached toward Grandpa's ear and, a moment later, held up the shiny quarter.

8That night, Kenji wrote in his practice notebook: "A trick is a seed. You water it a little every day, and one day it blooms." Then he switched off the lamp, grinning from ear to ear.