The Idiom Wizard: Chapter 14

“Hi,” I said.

I know, I know. It wasn’t the smartest thing to say to an 8-foot tall, grey wizard with orange hair and crazy eyes who did the most ridiculous magic tricks this world has ever seen…

But it worked!

I chuckled, nervously, as that thing raised its hand and waved hello.

Well, at least that’s what I thought it was doing. In the blink of an eye, a beam of light shot out of its hand towards me. I barely managed to dodge it, but the tree behind me wasn’t so lucky. The beam blasted a hole out of the side of the tree’s trunk. The tree groaned, probably said something like, “Ouch”, and then buckled under the weight and fell down against my house.

I dove out of the way as another beam of light flew passed my head. When I looked at the Idiom Wizard, it was preparing to shoot again, but Mr. Green stepped between us.

“Oh, joy!” Mr. Green said, clapping his hands in delight. “All this time, I’ve been searching and searching for that book so I could use it to find you, but here you are, ripe for the taking!” 

I looked at James and Hannah who were hiding beneath a car. They looked as confused as me about Mr. Green suddenly speaking full sentences.

The Idiom Wizard tilted his head and peered at Mr. Green, then turned its firing hand towards him.

Mr. Green’s smile faded. “I was hoping you’d put up a fight,” he said.

The Idiom Wizard shot a beam of light at Mr. Green, but Mr. Green caught it as if it was a football and then tossed it back. It hit the Idiom Wizard in the chest and knocked him to the ground.

“Hey!” Hannah hissed, grabbing me by the arm. “What are you doing? Hide before you get your head blown off!”

We waited a second for James to catch up, then we hurried to the side of the house and crawled beneath the branches of the fallen tree and watched. Honestly, I didn’t know who I wanted to win. I mean, Mr. Green was clearly evil and wanted to do something bad, but the Idiom Wizard hadn’t been such a nice guy either.

I (almost) would have picked Donald over either of them.

“Psst. Corver?” a voice whispered from above us.

We looked up, through the tree branches, and searched for the person talking. “In here,” it said again.

“It’s coming from your bedroom window,” James said. “Is it your dad?”

“Nope. That’s not my dad either,” I told him. I pointed through the ground level window where we could clearly see my mom still sleeping beneath a raincloud and my dad balled up like a baby sucking one of the hundreds of thumbs that had grown all over him. “That’s my dad.”

“Ew,” Hannah said.

“Yeah,” James added. “Ew is right. He looks like a beanbag of thumbs.”

“Follow me,” I said, ignoring them as I began to climb the toppled tree to my bedroom window.


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