Magic in the Mix Read Online Free Page B

in Cookie’s throat.
    â€œOr Burger,” Robbie went on dreamily. “Or Pizza.”
    â€œNo,” said Miri. “Cookie.”
    The front door opened. “Guess what!” called their mother’s voice. “I have, in one short hour, solved all of my children’s problems.” She clattered into the kitchen. “I solved yours.” She smiled at Miri and Molly and dropped a pile of cat food, box, and litter onto the kitchen table. “And yours.” She turned to Ray and Robbie.
    â€œOur problem is we’re hungry,” said Robbie.
    â€œNo,” said Mom. “Your problem is you’re flunking history.”
    â€œIt’s called social studies now,” said Ray.
    â€œI call it history,” said Mom. “And I just found a way for you to raise your grades.” She looked energetically from son to son. “I ran into Mr. Emory at the grocery store”—Ray groaned—“Stop that. He seemed very nice. And he said that you can get extra credit by doing a Civil War reenactment this Saturday! Isn’t that great?”
    More groans.
    â€œNow stop that! You don’t even know what it is!”
    â€œYeah, we do,” said Robbie. “It’s this totally lame thing where a bunch of old guys get together and pretend that they’re still fighting in a war that happened, like, two hundred years ago.”
    â€œA hundred and fifty years ago,” corrected Mom. “A war that’s extremely important in American history.”
    â€œThey dress up.” He snickered.
    â€œYou’ll get extra credit,” coaxed Mom.
    â€œNo,” said Ray.
    â€œYou’ll learn about the battles that happened around here.” She smiled encouragingly.
    â€œNo,” said Robbie.
    â€œYou’ll get lots of exercise,” she said.
    â€œNo,” said Ray.
    â€œYou’ll get guns,” said a man’s voice.
    Ray and Robbie looked up. Ollie was standing in the doorway. “For real?” asked Ray.
    â€œYep. Course, they’re not loaded, just with powder. Makes a pop, though.” Ollie grinned as though this was good news. “You could get sabers, depending which company you’re in. Probably you’ll be Yankees. We never have enough Yankees.”
    â€œWe don’t mind being Yankees,” said Ray. He looked at Robbie. “Do we?”
    â€œWhich ones are they?” asked Robbie.
    Mom clapped her hand to her head. “No wonder you’re flunking.”
    Ollie stared at Ray and Robbie, shocked. “The Yankees are the Northerners. The Union. The side that won,” he said in a loud, distinct voice. “The Confederates are the Southerners. The ones that lost. The ones who lived here. Us.” You idiots, his expression clearly added.
    â€œOh, yeah. Right,” said Robbie. “We’re in.”
    Ollie rolled his eyes and sloped off to the bathroom, muttering about kids today, and Miri shivered as one of the cold drafts that wafted through the old house curled along her neck. She picked up Cookie and huddled the kitten against her chest, where the downy fluff warmed her.

Chapter 3
    Don’t set the house on fire. Miri and Molly nodded. But if you do set the house on fire, call us. Molly and Miri nodded. There’s plenty to eat. Miri and Molly nodded. But don’t just eat desserts; have some fruit. Molly and Miri nodded. Don’t forget to feed Cookie. Miri and Molly nodded. But don’t feed her before two. Molly and Miri nodded. If you have any problems, call us. Nod. Don’t watch TV. Nod. You aren’t allowed on the Internet when we aren’t home. Nod, nod, nod.
    Nod, nod, nod, nod, nod, nod, nod.
    Now that it was Saturday, a warm, blue-skied October Saturday, Robbie and Ray were even less interested in their Civil War reenactment than they had been a few days before. They moped andshuffled and claimed to be getting sick and announced that life was