Wizard of Washington Square by Jane Yolen Read Free Book Online

said.
    When Leilah caught up with David, she explained, “We’ll take the turning to the IRT and go by subway. It’s the fastest way there.”
    “Are you sure?” asked David. “After all, we wasted so much time arguing with that forgetful old fraud back there.”
    “I’m sure. And he’s not a fraud. Look what he can do: change signs and take white pigeons from his hat. Why, I’ve never even seen a white pigeon before. All the pigeons in New York are a kind of filthy gray. Anyone who can do that must be magic.”
    They turned to the right at the signs and walked quite a way before they finally found themselves at a door that opened onto a ledge above the subway rails. They had to walk about fifty steps before they came at last to the crowded station.
    “Isn’t that funny,” said Leilah. “I’ve always noticed these strange doors in the subway tunnel when I rode on the trains. But it never occurred to me that they might be connected to a wizard’s walkway.”
    David didn’t answer. Instead he kept glancing nervously down the track, trying to see whether a subway train was coming. He stood first on one leg and then on the other. He didn’t want to admit to Leilah that he was scared. After all, he had never ridden on a subway before. And Leilah was as calm as could be. But David had to admit to himself that he was uneasy as he heard a faint rumbling in the distance. He glanced down the track again.
    “Not that way, silly. It’s coming from the other way,” said Leilah.
    David felt so stupid that he forgot his fears as the subway train drew closer. It did not even bother him that the crowd behind them began to push them toward the tracks. Suddenly the entire station seemed to shake as the red and green lights on the first car came hurtling down the track into the station. The train filled the entire subway stop with its screeching, rocking, rattling presence. Before he could think, David had been pushed through the wide-open doors, against people fighting to get out, and on into the train. He looked around frantically and saw Leilah wiggle through a small opening between an enormous lady carrying two brown shopping bags, and a man with a drooping moustache, carrying a black leather portfolio.
    “I’ll show you where we get off,” Leilah shouted above the din of the train. But it was too noisy to hear anything, so they rode to Fifty-ninth Street without talking further.
    Leilah had to drag David off when they reached their stop. He had become mesmerized by the constant shaking and banging of the train and might have ridden all day if she hadn’t grabbed his hand. She pulled him up the stairs and pointed them both in the right direction. David was delighted to see daylight again.
    They took off down the avenue at a gallop, kicking their heels like ponies let out to pasture, barely missing a little old lady with an umbrella she was using against the sun and a beggar who wore a sign proclaiming that he was blind though he stepped quickly and expertly out of their way, lifting his dark glasses to watch them as they passed.
    As they came to Fifty-eighth Street, Leilah pointed across the street. In the middle of the block they saw the same sign they had seen in the tapestry: J. Pickwell. VIP Interiors. David and Leilah crossed over without paying any attention to the light. Luckily it was green.
    “Look,” said Leilah.
    David looked. There in the window, standing rigidly on the top of a graceful Hepplewhite table, was the marble statue of D. Dog. And Mr. Pickwell was reaching over to pick it up and show it to a customer.

A Priceless Possession
    “T HIS STATUE IS PRICELESS, ” Mr. Pickwell was saying to a woman in a mink coat and her husband as David and Leilah burst into his store.
    “Nonsense,” said the lady. “The price is right on it. Two hundred dollars.”
    “Rather than priceless, I’d call it overpriced,” her husband added.
    “Overpriced!” said Pickwell, his Adam’s apple bobbing