Page 76 of The Bleak Beginning

“Are you interested in joining Club Bedlam? Where we promise to make the impossible possible,” Alfie finishes with a flourish, arms spread wide.

No way was I actually considering joining his club, right? I mean, it’s Alfie, so the expectations are already low. I could get Chancellor Maxwell off my back about being more involved in this school… The only downside to the situation is currently not blinking and giving me a lopsided grin.

Could it really be that bad?

“Fine,” I sigh, already regretting my decision. “I’ll join your stupid club.”

His face lights up like I told him he won the lottery. “Really? Man, this is gonna be great! We can meet every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after class. I’ve got so many ideas I’ve been wanting to test out!”

I hold up my hand to stop his excited rambling. “Whoa, slow down. Let’s start with one hour, one day a week and see how it goes, alright?”

He nods vigorously, practically bouncing. “Sure, sure, whatever you want.”

I cannot believe I’m doing this. What’s wrong with me? Maybe Bishop was right, and I’d swallowed too much water, because I was obviously going crazy.

“Alright, Alfie. So what exactly does this club of yours do?” I ask, bracing myself for whatever bizarre answer he might give.

“Well, you’re not in it yet.” he admits, face sober.

I arch a brow. “What do you mean I’m not in it yet?”

“You haven’t passed the test, so you can’t be initiated,” he says with a shrug.

I feel my jaw clench. “Test? You didn’t mention anything about a test.”

“Well, of course there’s a test. We can’t just let anyone into Club Bedlam. We have standards, you know.”

I resist every urge in my body begging me to leave while I still can. “Fine. What’s the test?”

He leans in close, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have to prove you believe in the impossible.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

He produces three colored balls with the flick of his wrist. “With these, of course.”

I stare at the colorful spheres in his hand, each about the size of a golf ball. “What am I supposed to do with those?”

Alfie grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Simple. You have to make them disappear.”

I scoff. “What, like a magic trick? I’m not a magician, Alfie.” I would barely qualify him as one.

He shakes his head. “No, no. Not a trick. Real magic. Make them vanish. Poof!” He gestures dramatically with his free hand.

“You can’t just make objects disappear into thin air.”

“Ah, but that’s the point!” he exclaims, practically bouncing again. “You have to believe it’s possible. That’s the test.”

I look around, half expecting to see a hidden camera crew ready to jump out and yell “Gotcha!” But there’s just Alfie grinning at me expectantly, those ridiculous balls balanced in his palm.

“This is insane,” I mutter, but something in me can’t quite walk away. Maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe I’m just as crazy as Alfie. Either way, I find myself reaching out to take the colorful balls from his hand. They’re surprisingly heavy, with a slight warmth to them.

Alfie just shrugs, unfazed. “Insanity is just another word for thinking outside the box. Now come on, give it a try!”

I turn them over in my palm, searching for any sign of trickery. “So…what? I just have to believe really hard, and they’ll disappear?”

“Exactly! Just close your eyes, picture them vanishing, and believe that it’s possible.”

I take a deep breath, feeling utterly ridiculous. But I close my eyes anyway, cupping the balls in my hands. I try to picture them disappearing, to believe it could happen. Nothing. I pry one eye open. The balls are still there, of course.

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