Pete looked at his watch again for the umpteenth time.  What am I doing here?  he asked himself.  Oh, that's right, he answered his own rhetorical question, my stupid friends dragged me off to this stupid magic show...they thought it would be fun.  Yeah, right.  How about fun at my expense?  This has to be the worst birthday ever.  He glanced at the gaudy stage card.  "The Great Rizzotto," it read in fancy letters.  More like the great Ricotta cheese, thought Pete.  Unfortunately, today's audience had been a bit shy, and Pete and his friends had gotten the "good" seats at the front, which meant Pete had somehow become the magician's favorite “willing volunteer”—or victim, more accurately.  By this time, Pete was fairly well convinced that "The Great Rizzotto" was out to get him.  He had already had a silk bouquet pulled out of his nose, a string of rainbow-colored kerchiefs pulled out of his ear, and women's underwear pulled out from under his shirt, and he would certainly have bolted this stupid performance by now if he had not been hemmed in by his friends on all sides.
"Thank you!" cried the magician.  "And now, for my last trick, I'll need one more volunteer from the audience."  Good, thought Pete.  I can finally get out of here.
"Do I have any volunteers?"  called the magician, scanning the rather small audience in vain for someone not glued to his seat.  "Anyone?"
Pete felt a tug at his shirt sleeve and knew what was coming next.  He shut his eyes and sighed as his friends lifted him bodily onto the stage.
"Well," said the magician, "it looks as though we have our volunteer."  Pete shot his friends an evil glance as the audience laughed, and the magician did his best to close his act in a professional manner.  "Pete, I want you to know you've been a terrific sport today.  This shouldn't hurt at all."  He turned and addressed the crowd.  "Ladies and gentlemen, the trick I am about to perform is a very ancient secret, and one which I cannot say with any certainty is known to any living magician besides myself.  In fact, I have only attempted this trick a few times before, but rest assured Pete is in no mortal danger.  I need you all to be very quiet, as this does require a bit of concentration.  What I am going to do, ladies and gentlemen, is turn Pete into a rabbit."
Is that all?  thought Pete, with a sigh of relief.  So he'll drop me through a trap door, there'll be another cloud of smoke, he'll show off a bunny rabbit, and that'll be the end of it.  At least this can't involve any more physical humor at my expense.  How could he have ever known how wrong he was at that moment?
"Now, Pete, if you'll stand very still, this will only take a moment," the magician continued.  The magician grabbed Pete's shirt collar and pants waist, and yanked.  Off came Pete's clothes!  The audience laughed again.  Pete went red, though whether he was more embarrassed or angry, he couldn't tell.  The magician spoke into Pete's ear.  "You'll want to take your shoes and socks off while you're at it; it'll make things easier."  Pete complied, only because he could look no sillier barefoot in his underwear than he would with his shoes on in his underwear.  The magician folded Pete's clothes and handed them to one of the "lovely assistants."
"Okay, now everyone quiet please," said the magician, placing gloved hands to either side of his forehead in deep concentration.  After a few seconds, the magician took his wand, and assuming a more traditional "spell-casting" pose pointed the wand at Pete and said, "Zapacadabra, Alakazoo!  This is how we make a rabbit out of YOU!"  As he did, he punctuated the last word with a dramatic bob of the wand in Pete's direction.  Pete shuddered, as though something had hit him, though he thought he may well have been cold or just nervous, standing on stage wearing nothing but his drawers.
Nothing happened.  Nothing happened!  For all that build-up, nothing seemed to be happening.  Pete looked askance at the magician, who was crouched—or was it collapsed?—on the stage, wrapped tightly in his black cape, with only his top hat visible.  The girl in the frilly, skimpy outfit had her eye on the magician, too, as if she anticipated the possibility of something going wrong.  Pete was not concerned about the magician, however; in fact, he was about fed up with this whole deal.  Here he was, standing in front of a crowd of people, and (worse yet) his friends, in his underwear, and nothing was happening!  The crowd began to rustle and titter as the moments crept by...and then, someone in the audience called out...
"Look!  His ears are growing!"
My ears are growing? thought Pete.  He closed his eyes and felt for his ears.  Sure enough, they were getting longer, and fuzzier, too.  He opened his eyes and looked at his hands.  They were also starting to turn fuzzy.  All over his body, in fact, thousands and thousands of tiny gray hairs were starting to appear.  He could feel his nose and teeth were now starting to change shape, and his face seemed to be migrating along with them.  Pete's eyes grew wide as he realized what was happening.  He was turning into a rabbit, all right, but not at all as he had anticipated!
The changes seemed to be accelerating now.  He could tell that he was getting shorter by the instant as his arms, legs and torso readjusted themselves.  His feet looked about twice their normal size.  The stage seemed to be creeping closer as he shrank.  Just then, his hips and knees creaked and popped out of joint.  His shorts slipped down around his thighs, and he was forced to drop down to all fours.  His hands looked completely like paws now.  He had finally stopped shrinking, but the trouble now was that in this position, the fabric of his shorts was all bunched up in his knees and cutting rather uncomfortably into his stomach.  Unable to sit up, he grew more and more uncomfortable until he couldn't stand it any more.  He dipped his head down and with his long, sharp teeth tore the offending garment asunder.  Then, with a mighty yank, he tore away the last trace of his human dignity.
The magician, by this time, had recovered his feet, and was gesturing and bowing to the cheers and applause of the crowd.  Pete had been so mesmerized by this whole process that he had not even had the chance to protest, and now that the transformation was complete, he gazed at himself in flabbergasted wonderment.  Free of his bonds, Pete reared up, the torn fabric of the shorts still in his mouth, and held the fabric aside with one paw to get a better look.  Suddenly realizing what he had done, he thought to himself, well, so much for that pair of shorts...though it looks as though I don't exactly need them now.  Indeed, what need had he of clothes when he was covered from tip to tail in thick fur, and even his "naughty bits" were safely tucked away from view somewhere down there?
"Thank you!" said the magician.  "You've been a wonderful audience!  Thank you all for coming today!"  When Pete heard this, he could tell something was wrong.
"Um, aren't you going to change me back?" he tried to ask, but all that came out was a series of strange squeaks.  The magician made no reply, but picked Pete up by the ribs and left the stage.  As it happened, Pete was still extremely large for a rabbit, though still barely one-third the size he had been when he started.
The magician carried Pete out the stage door and into his big, black trailer.  His assistant closed the door behind them.  The Great Rizzotto began removing his hat, gloves, and cape.  "So," said Pete, trying to make his new mouth form words the way his old one had done, but not succeeding very well, "about changing me back?"
The magician seemed to understand this time.  "I'm sorry, my friend.  I've not quite mastered the whole 'changing back' thing yet, but don't worry.  I'm hoping that I'll be able to get it by the end of this month.  You're not in any real danger of being a rabbit forever...unless you change your mind about wanting to be human again at some point."  With that, he picked Pete up again, who was struggling furiously.
	"You charlatan!" screamed Pete.  "You did this to me on purpose!  I swear I'll...I'll...well, I don't know what I'll do to you, but it's going to be really, really nasty."
As the magician walked toward the dimly-lit rear of his trailer’s interior, he showed no sign of acknowledgement to Pete.  "Sharon," he called to his assistant, "could you give me a hand with the cage?"  Pete could see in front of him a very large cage lined with sawdust. Sharon grabbed the stepladder and opened the door in the cage’s ceiling.  The magician tossed Pete in and closed the door.  "I know this must be a little degrading," he said, "but it's the best we can do for now.  Feel free to ask the others if I've ever failed to take good care of them.  Like I said, I'll get you changed back before you know it, and you'll be free to go…unless you choose not to."  The way he seemed to be repeating that last thought made Pete wonder if the man could really be that much in need of companionship.  Couldn't he have found a more normal way of finding a friend?  Most people just ask.  
As Pete took stock of his new surroundings, the first thing he could tell was that he could not hope to open the cage in his present form.  Even if he could have reached the door, he was not strong enough to open it, and his paws just wouldn't grasp the way he wanted them to.  He could not quite fit his head between the bars, and a painful childhood memory of getting his head stuck between bars was enough to make him stop trying.  Looking around to the other end of the cage, his eyes fell upon the others.  Three other forms were collectively crowded at the far end of the cage, though somehow they looked very comfortable.  One pair of shiny black eyes was watching him.  The eyes belonged to a big black rabbit, even larger than Pete.  The black rabbit nudged his neighbor and said, "Hey...hey!  Wake up!  We've got a new addition."
The black's neighbor was a black and white rabbit, somewhat larger still than the black, and as he began to stretch and yawn, the remaining figure became fully visible.  She looked like a rabbit, too, and was covered in beautiful chocolate-brown fur, but as she changed position, Pete could tell that her arms and legs were too long for her to be fully a rabbit.  It seemed as though she had stopped changing somewhere between fully human and fully rabbit, as he was.  Unlike the rest, she had a large strip of cloth draped around her waist like a skirt.
The black rabbit spoke again.  "Welcome to the warren, stranger.  My name's Bob, this here's Mike, and that's Melissa."  He indicated himself and the others as he made the introductions.  Mike and Melissa nodded and said "hi" in turn.
"My name's Pete," said Pete.  "Peter Rabbit...what a strange coincidence," he thought out loud.
"Heh, the kid's got a sense of humor," said Mike.
"You're gonna need a sense of humor in this joint," said Melissa.  "He didn't tell me I was his first try.  I've been here for the better part of two weeks now, I guess.  I've sorta lost track of time."
"Haven't you guys tried to escape?" asked Pete.
"Sure, we all thought about it at first," said Bob, "but this cage is solid, and he doesn't even open it to give us our food.  Besides," he continued, "it's really not all that bad once you get used to it."
"Yeah," said Mike, "he feeds us well, and we're never too hot or too cold.  Still, I guess I wouldn't mind going back to my old life, either."
Pete was having trouble understanding how the others could be so complacent.  "So," said Pete, "does turning into a rabbit make you less inclined to care, or just stupid?"
"Well, now," said Bob, "I don't think that's fair.  I don't feel any less smart since the change.  I just feel like it's less stressful if you can learn to take what's dealt to you and go from there."
"That's fine for you, Bob," said Melissa, "but I know I'm getting out of here as soon as he changes me back...though I do think this look is kinda growing on me."  Pete had to agree, in his own mind, that the fusion of human and lapine that made up Melissa's frame was rather fetching, particularly reclined as she was with her back to the cage bars and legs folded to one side.  Another thought surfaced, however, which Pete felt he ought to have thought of before.
"Won't someone come looking for me?" he asked.
"You know, it's funny," said Mike, "I thought the same thing, too, but trouble is I can't tell if we're even in the same town as where I started."
"Well, I can help you with that," said Pete.  "Where did you start?"
"Kingston," said Mike.
"Well, you're definitely not there anymore," said Pete, "but you've not gotten far.  This is Poughkeepsie."
"Huh," said Mike.  "Wonder what Mr. Rizzotto plans to do with us once he's got us changed back.  Maybe he means to drop us off on his way back?"
"Who knows?" said Pete.
"It seems to me," said Melissa, "almost like the crowd was hypnotized into thinking there was nothing wrong when I left.  As far as I can tell, no one inquired about me."
"Well, it seems like this Rizzotto is a pretty smooth operator if he can change people into rabbits, kidnap them, and get away scot-free," said Pete.  "Still, somehow I can tell he's not really evil...maybe just misguided.  And if he keeps his word and changes us back, who knows if he'll ever answer for it?  I doubt anyone would ever believe what really happened."
	
In the days following his arrival, Pete got to know his cage-mates and his surroundings better.  He got used to the food and sleeping on the sawdust with his neighbors substituting for pillows.  He even got accustomed to Bob and Mike’s jokes.  The cage, which might have been used for shipping a big cat such as a lion, was no hotel room, but it was large enough to move around a little, and it did have a couple of amenities in the form of a water basin and a toilet.
The “toilet” was a rather ingenious affair:  a section of the bars was cut away to accommodate a wooden box with a hole in the top and a lid to cover it, like a primitive water closet.  The box could then be emptied and cleaned, Pete learned, without having to open the cage.  The hole in the top of the box was just large enough for Pete to squeeze through, unpleasant as the idea seemed.  If only there were a way to unlatch the door on the outside of the box—or (hope of hopes) supposing Sharon or Linda forgot to latch it—that might prove a way of escape.
The few days after Pete arrived melted into each other with little sense of day and night, which Pete and the others could only estimate by how much light came through the door of the trailer whenever it was opened—that, and whenever the light was turned off for the night.  They could tell, however, that it had only taken a few hours to get to their next stop, and they wondered what Rizzotto was up to.
One afternoon, as Pete and Melissa sat listening to Bob and Mike perform one of their improvised comedy routines, Rizzotto and Sharon suddenly entered the trailer together.  They had not entered together in this manner since…Pete looked closely at Rizzotto, and sure enough, there was another rabbit in his arms, screaming and struggling like a little fury.  This rabbit was white in color with gold patches and was just about the right size for a rabbit.  With Sharon’s help, the door in the top of the cage was opened, the rabbit was dropped into the cage, and the door was closed again without further ceremony.
“I’m terribly sorry to do this to you,” said Rizzotto, speaking in a stage voice as the newcomer screamed and threw itself in vain against the strong cage bars.  “You have my word that you will be returned to your former self before the end of this week, so try to rest and save your strength.  Until then, your roommates will take good care of you, and you will be well-fed and comfortable as far as it lies within my power.”  The magician and his assistant turned and left, leaving the interior dimly lit as usual.
“My, my,” said Bob, “seems we have a whirlwind on four feet this time.”
The newcomer whirled and faced Bob at a surprising speed.  “You just shut up!  I swear when I get my hands on that magician…”  She hopped up and down the length of the cage for the next half an hour, cursing under her breath, occasionally stopping as she came up with some new gruesome fate which she might wreak upon The Great Rizzotto once she regained the power to do so…if not before.  Finally, she stopped pacing and crumpled into a heap, shivering and sobbing pitifully.
Seeing that the new rabbit had burned off her initial frustration, Bob hopped over to see about giving her a proper welcome.  “Hello there, stranger,” he said in his usual friendly voice.  “There, there, now,” he cooed, laying a paw on her trembling back, “it’s all right.  My name’s Bob.  What’s yours?”
“Leave me alone, or I’ll bite you,” the little one sobbed.
“Leave you alone?  Well, now, that’s a little hard, considering what close quarters we’re in,” Bob replied.  “I’m not going to hurt you.”  He placed a paw under her chin and lifted her head in an effort to make eye contact with her.  “You do have a name, right?  Is it—ow!”  Bob jerked his paw away as the little female made good on her threat.
“Let me try, Bob,” said Melissa.  She groaned a little as she stood and stretched.  Walking over, she knelt down next to the newcomer as Bob slinked away to nurse his paw.
“I said I’m not in the mood to talk,” said the stranger.
“Well, then, all you have to do is listen,” said Melissa.  “My name’s Melissa; and Bob you’ve met.  You’ll get to meet Mike and Pete just shortly.  Believe me; I know what you’re going through right now.  We’re all in this together.  You could say I got the worst deal out of all of us, seeing as how I can’t even pass for an oversized rabbit like the rest.  When you’re ready, we’d be more than happy to get to know you a little better.”
The female made no move, but she had stopped crying.  Melissa turned back toward the others, shrugged, and stood up.   She had come a couple steps when the new rabbit spoke again.
“My name is Stella,” she said.

After that, Stella seemed to warm to the others considerably.  She did make it clear that for now, she needed her space, warning Bob, Mike, and Pete not to try any funny business.  Melissa assured her that not only were they not interested in making any unwelcome advances, but that she would certainly see to it they would regret doing so.
A couple nights later, after the rabbits had settled in to sleep, Pete felt a nudge at his side.  He turned his head and yawned.  He could make out nothing in the nearly absolute darkness.  “Who’s there?”
“It’s me,” said Stella.
“Oh, hi, Stella,” Pete whispered.  “What’s up?”
 “Pete, right?” said Stella.  
“Uh-huh.”  
“I couldn’t sleep,” Stella continued.  “I’ve been wondering…have any of you tried to escape?”
 “I know I have, but I’ve never succeeded, in case you couldn’t tell,” Pete quipped.  “I can’t speak for the others, though.”
“Is there any way out other than the roof door?”
“Well, maybe,” said Pete.  “I’ve noticed there is an access door on the outside of the toilet…but Sharon and Linda are pretty good about keeping it latched.  I’ve never known them to forget yet.”
Stella sighed.  “Well, is the hole in the top big enough for one of us to fit through?”
“It’s big enough for me,” Pete replied, “so I imagine it’d be plenty big enough for you.”
“Could you go check it again?  Just for me?” Stella asked.  Pete was sure if he could have seen her, she would have been giving him the “big begging kitten eyes.”
“Oh, all right,” he said with a sigh.  Feeling around the others, he made his way over to the toilet. He lifted the lid and poked his head through, wrinkling his nose at the smell, and tried to reach the door with one paw.  He was not quite close enough.  Wrenching his shoulders back and forth, he forced himself further in, discovering to his dismay that now he had too little room to move his arms.  His filth-covered front paws supported his weight, which was now so balanced that it seemed he could neither back out nor advance.  “I’m stuck,” came Pete’s muffled voice.
“I’ll see if I can get you out,” said Stella.  She tried in vain to grab hold of Pete’s feet with her paws.   She then tried grabbing Pete with her teeth, and bit right down on his rump.
“OW!!” cried Pete.  Fortunately, his voice was muffled enough by the box that no one was disturbed.
“Sorry,” said Stella.
Pete scolded himself for attempting such a stupid stunt, sighed, and rested his head on the door.  The wall formed by the door yielded to his slight weight!  It happened so suddenly, and Pete was so discouraged, that it took him a moment to realize what had happened.  “Stella!” he whispered excitedly, “It’s open!  I…unh…just need to get the rest of the way…”
 “Someone’s coming!” cried Stella in as loud a whisper as she dared make.  “I’m going to try to push you the rest of the way through,” she said, jumping up on top of the toilet.  For a moment, she tried pushing Pete’s backside, but all at once she got an idea.  Stuffing his feet inside the hole, she lowered the lid and jumped on top of it.  Pete was dislodged so suddenly, he rolled head-over-tail out of the door, across the floor, and under a table.  Stella closed her eyes tightly and pretended to sleep.
The door opened, and Rizzotto entered with a large six-volt lantern flashlight.  He grabbed the stepladder from its place between the wall and the cage, set it up, and climbed atop the cage.  Opening the door, he lowered himself in and closed it after himself.  He crept over to the sleeping forms of the rabbits and stopped when he came to Melissa.  He must not have noticed Pete was missing.  He raised his wand and said, “Alakazoo, Alakazem, this is how we make you human again.”  He lowered his wand and waited, but nothing happened.  He repeated this performance three times, and on the third time, he suddenly collapsed, much as he had done when Pete was transformed.  
From his hiding place, Pete strained his eyes to see what was happening.  In the dim light from the flashlight, he thought he could make out that Melissa really was changing.  Her ears seemed to be melting away and her fur seemed to be disappearing like water on a hot griddle.  Suddenly, the change stopped and reversed itself.  Rizzotto’s face, who had been watching Melissa’s sleeping form intently, fell sadly as he saw the spell had not worked, after all.  He cursed and panted, “It must have been too long.”  With apparent effort, he reached up and opened the door in the cage roof, lay his flashlight down, and hoisted himself out.  He climbed dejectedly back down the stepladder, folded it, and leaned it against the wall, but did not bother to put it away.  The beam of his flashlight shone dangerously close to Pete, but Rizzotto did not seem to notice.  In fact, as the magician walked out the door and back to wherever he was staying, he left the door open.  Pete saw his chance and bolted out the door.

Pete took stock of his surroundings.  He was apparently in the parking lot behind a motel.  There was a strip of bushes and trees between the parking lot and the fence where Pete could conceal himself until he made his next move.  Pete laughed out loud.  He had beaten that magician this time!  Now he could…he could…what could he do now?  He stopped for a moment to consider just what he had gotten himself into.  In all his excitement, he had not given much thought to what he would do once he got out.  Now that he had a better idea where he was, he realized there was not much chance of him getting anywhere in his current form.  At night, he might not attract too much attention even if he was spotted, but the chances of surviving trying to cross the street were pretty discouraging by themselves, to say nothing of what he would eat and drink.
“Hi, Pete.”
Pete practically jumped over the fence.  He turned around to find Stella crouched under the bush next to him.  “What are you doing here?” he demanded while he tried to catch his breath.
“Duh,” Stella replied.  “I’m in line for the Ferris wheel; what’s it look like?  I’m busting out…like you are, right?”
“About that,” said Pete.  “It occurs to me that we’re in the middle of a suburban area…possibly somewhere around the Big Apple.  How are we supposed to get back home as rabbits?  We can’t just hail a taxi, you know.  Even supposing we did figure out some way to get back without getting flattened into street pizza or dying of starvation first, then what?  We just walk up to the folks and say, ‘hey, it’s me.  Yeah, I know I look like a rabbit…’?  How long do you suppose it’d be before we get shipped off to another cage, this time to be dissected, or maybe put on late-night TV?”
“I think you’re exaggerating,” said Stella.  “I know!  We can put ourselves in boxes and mail ourselves.”
“Oh, I’m exaggerating?” Pete retorted.  “Sure, I can tape your box up and address it, then what’ll you do?”
“I’ll just…oh.  Oops,” said a crestfallen Stella.
“See,” said Pete.  “You’re not thinking at all.  I hate to say it, but the most realistic chance we have right now is staying with that Rizzotto character until he changes us back…or something.  At least this way we don’t have to worry about where our next meal comes from.”
“I think you’ve been in captivity too long,” said Stella, “but…well, I’ll admit I’m no Girl Scout.  You’re probably right; I probably wouldn’t make it very far out here on my own.”
“Right, so let’s…” Pete started, but he never finished.  Looking back to the trailer, he noticed that while he and Stella had been talking, someone had closed the door.
“Great,” said Pete.  “The door is closed.”
“This is all your fault,” Pete and Stella said in unison.

Melissa had only been partly right when she noted that no one seemed to notice she was missing.  No one in the crowd at the show at which Rizzotto had tried the transformation spell on his first living subject had inquired about her, but her parents were concerned soon enough when Melissa’s boyfriend seemed not to remember he had ever met anyone named Melissa.  Other concerned parties had likewise inquired as to the whereabouts of Mike, Bob, and Pete, but they had been frustrated by the apparent amnesia afflicting everyone who had last seen them.  Then two days after Stella disappeared, Pete’s distraught parents received a phone call.
“Hey, Mrs. P., this is Mark.  Is Pete there?”
“Mark?” Mrs. Peterson replied.  “Is Pete…what do you mean, ‘is Pete there’?  Oh, so now you remember you have a friend named Pete, do you!  Well, I’ve had about enough of this charade.  In fact, I’ve half a mind to have you arrested!” 
“Whoa, Mrs. P., calm down,” said Mark.  “What are you talking about?  I haven’t seen Pete since…wait a minute…Pete really is missing, isn’t he?”
Mrs. Peterson began to cry.
“Hey…hey, don’t cry,” said Mark soothingly.  “I hate to see a grown woman cry.  Don’t worry, Mrs. P.  I think I can remember what happened.  Me and the guys took Pete out to see some magician for his birthday.  It was…the great…ri—Ritz…something…Rizzotto, that’s it.”
“You mean…you think this magician might have something to do with Pete’s disappearance?” said Mrs. Peterson, wiping her nose with a tissue.
“Yeah…” said Mark slowly, though it was still difficult for him to recall much of anything from that day.  “Yeah.  I think…I think it had something to do with his last trick.  That’s right…he was going to…to turn Pete into…”  Mark stopped suddenly as if he had had a revelation.  “Oh, no,” he whispered, then he abruptly announced, “Mrs. P., I’ve gotta go.”
“Mark?” called Mrs. Peterson excitedly into the receiver.  “Mark, are you there?”  All she heard was the dial tone.
Mark and his friends Chris, Will, Bart, and Sam were soon piled into Mark’s cramped car and speeding down the interstate.  The old Plymouth four-door should probably have been scrapped years ago, but it still ran well enough.  Accusations and insults were flying freely inside the small space as the four besides Mark (since he was driving) tried to figure out whose fault it was that Pete was gone.  Mark finally got fed up with the noise, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and whistled.  All was suddenly silent except for the engine’s dull roar and road noise.
“That’s enough!” said Mark.  “Maybe it’s our fault that Pete got to be a magician’s guinea pig and maybe it isn’t.  It doesn’t matter now.  It won’t help for us to be screaming at each other over it.  Save it for when we find that magician.  Now, Bart, you said you’d found out where this Rizzotto guy was supposed to be performing next, right?”
“Right,” said Bart, pulling a piece of paper out of the hip pocket of his jeans.  “He’s doing another birthday party at Seashore Park, behind the All American.  His show starts in half an hour.”
“Great,” muttered Mark.  “With this traffic, we’ll be lucky to catch him before he packs up.  This may call for some ‘creative driving.’”

“Well, look who’s here,” said Rizzotto, as he noticed the two rabbit heads staring up at him from under the trailer.  “Thought better of escaping after all, did you?”  He unlocked the trailer door and stepped in.  Pete and Stella followed him.
The magician opened the cage door, and Pete and Stella climbed back into the cage on their own.  “I may not be a very good magician, but I always keep my word,” said Rizzotto.  “Today you will be your former selves again.  Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“Rizzotto,” Pete called to him.
“Yes?” the magician replied, stopping but not turning around.
“Can we talk?”
The Great Rizzotto turned around, a wistful smile creeping across his mustachioed face.  He looked like he needed sleep in a bad way.  He sighed and leaned against the stepladder.  “Yes…yes, why not.  What would you like to talk about, my little friend?”
“Why, Rizzotto?  Why go to all this trouble?  Were you really that lonely?”
“I am the last magician to be entrusted with this transformation spell,” he replied, “and for years I had promised myself that the secret would die with me.  But you’re right.  I was lonely.  Sharon and Linda are great for road crew and stage help, but they have their own families and friends.  Me, I’ve been on the road so long I’ve forgotten what it’s like to sit and chat with someone.  Finally, my curiosity about the transformation spell got the better of me.  I thought that since everyone loves a rabbit-out-of-the-hat trick, I might get a rabbit and a friend out of the deal at the same time.  After I cast the spell on Melissa, though, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake.  You can’t force someone to be friends with you.  It’s just that I couldn’t undo the spell until I had gotten it right in one direction first.  Therefore today, for my final act, I’m going to turn you all back to normal and let you go.  By now your friends should be starting to remember what happened…I planned on the hypnosis wearing off right about now, anyways.”
“But Mr. Rizzotto…” protested Pete.
“I must prepare for the performance now.  We have about a half-hour drive to get to our destination, and then the girls and I will be setting up the stage.  I’ll see you then.  Oh, and Pete…”
“Yes?” said Pete.
“Thank you for listening.  You’ve made it easier for an old man to face his fate.”  The magician closed the door behind him and locked it.  A few moments later, the engine of the big pickup truck towing the trailer could be heard roaring to life.
“Face his fate?” echoed Pete.  “What do you suppose he means by that?”
“Maybe he means to turn himself in to the authorities,” suggested Melissa.  “Do you think he’s going to keep his word about changing us back?”
“Funny you should ask, Melissa,” said Pete.  “Stella and I saw him come in last night just before we took off.  He was practicing the reverse spell on you…and it almost worked, but not quite.  He must have been meditating, or whatever it is he does, since then so he can get it right this time.”
“Wow,” said Melissa. She began to examine herself, half hoping that some trace of change had remained.
“It’s sure going to be strange, being human again,” said Mike, as the trailer lurched forward.  “Not that I don’t miss my wife and kids…but being human has its pros and cons.”
“I know what you mean,” said Bob.  “I’ll never look at a fur coat the same way again, that’s ‘fur’ sure,” he joked.  Everyone groaned.  “Maybe I’ll get my little Danielle that pet rabbit she wanted, now that I have so much ‘fur-sonal’ experience.”
“Oh, Bob, you can’t be serious!” cried Melissa.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Bob replied enigmatically.
“You know, I won’t say I’m thankful to have been put through all this,” Pete commented, “but I can’t help feeling a little sorry for Rizzotto.” 
“Me too,” said Stella.  “The poor man.  All he wanted was a friend.”
“He should have asked, like everyone else,” said Melissa flatly.  “Personally, I don’t care if I never see him again.”
Melissa’s choice of words turned out to be prophetic.

Mark’s car pulled into the park. He thanked his lucky stars that he had not been pulled over, though as an afterthought, he wondered if he could have gotten the police here to haul off that Rizzotto anyways.  No sooner had he and the rest gotten out of the car but that he did see a police car pull up behind him, followed by a couple other cars.  Mark didn’t give it another thought, though.  He and his friends were either going to get Pete back, or get some answers.
His first idea was to sneak into the trailer and see what he could find.  This, however, proved unlikely when he discovered that the trailer was parked in such a way that the side door was fully visible from the stage.  He turned to his friends and shrugged.  “I don’t see any way to get into the trailer without him knowing what we’re up to.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to grab him as soon as he’s done with his performance,” said Chris.
“Why can’t we just interrupt him?” asked Will.
“Because we don’t need to make a scene,” Mark explained, “and we don’t want him to make a break for it.”
They settled down in the back of the crowd, which was quite a bit larger than it had been on that fateful day about a week ago.  The magician had just performed some sleight-of-hand with a deck of cards, at which the crowd cheered and applauded.
“And now,” announced the magician, “for my final act, I have secretly asked five volunteers to assist me in a most spectacular conjuring trick.  You cannot see them now, but they are already there.  When I say the magic words, I will call forth these souls from Limbo and they will appear in front of your very eyes.  Sharon, Linda, raise the mystic curtain, if you please!”  The two stage girls raised the glittery bright blue curtain, which was mounted on a collapsible frame.
Suddenly, a voice called out from the back of the crowd.  “Rizzotto, what have you done with my daughter!”
Rizzotto looked up to face the woman as half the crowd turned and craned their necks to see who it was.  “Madam,” he called out, “Look into my eyes.  You must not interrupt this performance.  For your daughter’s sake, hold your peace!”  The woman stood still as a statue.
The magician raised his wand.  “Alakazoo,” he said ceremoniously.  “Alakazem,” he cried.  “This is how we make you human again!”  His voice thundered as he bobbed his wand at the curtain, and with that, he fell to the floor.  A great billow of purple smoke exploded from the stage, probably simply for effect.  A pre-recorded drum rolled monotonously for a few moments, then without any further warning, Sharon and Linda detached the curtain, letting it fall to the ground as a cymbal crashed.  There, in the clearing smoke, stood three men and two women, who appeared to have been hastily dressed…and one of them was Pete!  Mark and the rest could not contain themselves any longer.
“Pete!  Pete!” they cried.
“Mark!  Chris!  Bart!” cried Pete as he ran down off the stage.  “Boy, am I glad to see you!”  Melissa, Mike, Bob, and Stella followed him and ran toward the open arms of their loved ones.  They had not noticed that Sharon and Linda had been in the process of helping Rizzotto to his feet.
“Thank you, my dears,” said the magician wearily.  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for coming out on this lovely day.”  It looked as though something was irritating his eye…or perhaps he was crying.  “And now, farewell!  This has been my finest performance.”
“Pete,” cried Stella, “I think he’s about to do something to himself.  I’ve got to stop him.”  She took off running back toward the stage.
“Wait!  Stella,” Pete protested as he followed her.
“Rizzotto!” cried Stella.  “Whatever it is you’re about to do, don’t!  I’ve only known you for a couple of days, but…I understand what it’s like to need a friend.  If…if you want, I’ll let you change me into a rabbit again.”  The people who overheard chuckled at such an absurd statement.
“You would do that for me?” asked the magician.  “Hmm…very well.  Zapacadabra…”
“Wait!” said Pete.  “Stella, you need to go home to your family.  I can find a way to explain things to my folks.”  He turned to the magician.  “Take me instead, Rizzotto.”
“You…you would take her place, then?” the magician asked.  He straightened up.  “I see how it is.  Thank you, Peter.  I was almost foolish enough to accept her offer.  Please forgive me…for all I’ve put you through.  What I do now must be done.”  He lifted his eyes heavenward and said, “May that Power to which I commend myself look mercifully upon my wretched soul.  Abrashazam!”
With a flash and a wisp of pale smoke, the magician’s costume fell in a lifeless heap.  The Great Rizzotto was gone.

The search of the temporary stage, the trailer, and the park grounds yielded no trace of the magician.  Sharon and Linda were taken in for questioning, but they were released the same day.  Their alibi of helping Rizzotto with wrangling rabbits was borne up well enough by what little evidence there was.  They knew no one would ever believe the truth, and for what it was worth, they were never sure themselves how real the magic had been.
Pete, Melissa, Mike, Bob, and Stella got together one last time before parting ways, promising to keep in touch.  Even though they knew each other, it was as if this was their first time meeting face-to-face.
“Do you suppose we’ll ever find out what happened to him?” asked Stella.
“No,” said Pete.  “Based on what he said this morning and just before he disappeared, I’m pretty sure he’s gone to ‘face his fate,’ whatever that may be.”
“I don’t think I’ll miss him,” said Mike, “but that’s some way to go.”
“It’s a fitting end,” said Bob.  “He went out like a showman, with a bang.”