The Year I Flew Away

by Marie Arnold

“Argh!”

  “It’s okay. Let’s go get Mrs. Bartell, and the three of us can find Getz.”

  And as we walk down the bustling hallway, I tell Carmen about meeting Tianna. She can’t believe it.

  “But don’t tell anyone, I told her I would not share her secret,” I add.

  “I won’t, but why are you being so nice to her? She wasn’t that nice to you,” Carmen says.

  “Yeah, but I did bad stuff too. I hit her, and I shouldn’t have done that. I lied to my family about where my perfect English came from, I got you in trouble, and I caused my entire family to disappear.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes,” Carmen says.

  “Yeah, that’s what my dad says.” As soon as I bring him up, I feel pain in my stomach. I miss my parents so much.

  “Do you think Tianna will be nicer to you now?”

  “I don’t know what she’ll do. But I know what I’ll do if I ever get my family back—be honest and be myself. I love Haiti. And now I can’t remember anything about it. Carmen, it was my homeland. And I don’t care if that sign-up sheet won’t let me put down Haiti—tomorrow I’m going to speak at Culture Day.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I never want to forget where I came from—not again,” I reply as we enter the library. It’s even more chaotic in there than it is in the school hallways. Mrs. Bartell is telling the students what books go where and showing them how to decorate the room. It already looks pretty amazing. There are books displayed by famous writers from around the world. She sees us and quickly comes over. She seems a little . . . frazzled.

  “Mrs. Bartell, are you all right?” I ask.

  “We ordered a dozen books on the country of Turkey, and they sent us a dozen books about raising and caring for turkeys—as in the animals!” she replies. “The people who are supposed to set up the lights and sound in the auditorium are late; the flag that was supposed to represent Peru is actually Canada’s flag. And the cassette tape we were planning on playing over the speakers was supposed to have national anthems from the entire world—instead, it has six hours of yodeling.”

  I touch her arm, and Carmen does too. Mrs. Bartell looks at us and shakes her head.

  “I’m sorry. I know you girls have a lot more important things on your mind. Getz has something for you two; he’s waiting in the yard. I wish I could go along, but I’m afraid I can’t get away right now.”

  “It’s okay. You take care of Culture Day, and we’ll find the good witch,” Carmen says.

  “If you need anything, just ask. And do not do anything dangerous or crazy.”

  “We’ll try not to,” I reply. Mrs. Bartell writes us a note in case a teacher stops us. She moves to hand us the note, but she’s hesitating.

  “What is it, Mrs. Bartell?” Carmen says.

  “I should leave this stuff and go with you two. Getting Gabrielle’s family back is important.”

  “Yeah, but so is Culture Day,” I say. “Stay here and help make sure it goes well. Oh, and the witch did something to the sign-up sheet; it won’t let me put Haiti on the list. Do you think you can do it for me?”

  “You want to make a presentation?” Mrs. Bartell asks.

  “Yes, it’s the least I can do after everything,” I reply.

  “But wait, how can you do a presentation when you can’t remember anything about Haiti?” Carmen says.

  “All I know is that I owe it to Haiti to try,” I say.

  “All right, I’ll sign you up, Gabrielle,” Mrs. Bartell says.

  “And Rocky should be here soon. When you see him, send him our way,” Carmen says.

  “Okay, I will. Good luck, girls,” Mrs. Bartell says as we rush out of the room.

  * * *

  We get outside just in time to see Rocky racing across the street. We call him over, and together we head over to Getz. He’s leaning on a pole with his customary trench coat and hat. He scans the yard and makes sure that there are no kids near us.

  “Ladies,” he says. He then looks down at Rocky. “Rocky.”

  “How did you know his name?” Carmen asks.

  “Rocky and I have done business before. He was looking for the perfect rabbit ears. I made some calls. Didn’t I?” Getz says.

  “Yeah . . . thanks,” Rocky says, suddenly uneasy.

  “You don’t call me anymore to get you rabbit ears to try on; does that mean you found another way to become a rabbit?”

  “I . . . took care of it,” Rocky says.

  Getz turns to us. “All right, I have good news and bad news.”

  “Well, what happened—did you find Madam Monday?” I ask.

  “I had to call in a lot of favors and search all of Brooklyn to get a lead. But when I finally did, it led me to a warlock down on Flatbush Ave. He’s retired, so he didn’t know much, but he pointed me to a witch friend of his who worked downtown. She pointed me to a powerful witch who lived on the edge of town. Figured I’d check out the place in case she was still there.”

  “And did you find her?” Carmen asks.

  “No, she was gone, moved out. I got in touch with the neighbor, and according to her, the witch is still in Brooklyn, but she has no idea where. So, I used all my resources, and it took all night, but I finally found her.”

  “Where?” Rocky asks.

  “Where most witches hang out—Subway.”

  “The train?” I ask.

  “The restaurant. I forgot how much witches love cold cuts.”

  “Okay, so did you get her?” Rocky asks.

  “That’s the bad news—she was already gone. But on her way out, she dropped an earring. And now this is the only clue we have to go by,” Getz says as he takes out an earring from his pocket and hands it to me.

  “How are we going to find her with just an earring?” Carmen asks.

  I look it over and grin wildly. “We need candy,” I announce.

  “Gabrielle, I’m all for a sugar rush, but shouldn’t we focus on getting your family back?” Carmen asks.

  “No, you don’t get it. The earring. What are these?” I ask her.

  Carmen looks at the colorful earring and says, “Parakeets.”

  “Yeah, and where was the last time we saw earrings with colorful parakeets?”

  “The candy lady!” she shouts excitedly. Some of the kids in the yard turn to us to see what’s happening. We smile awkwardly and act like nothing is going on. When they go back to their games, we go back to business.

  “You really think the candy lady is Madam Monday?” Getz asks.

  “Only one way to find out,” Rocky says, as he takes off across the street.

  “Thanks, Getz,” I shout as Carmen and I follow Rocky to the candy lady’s window.

  We bang on the window and wait for her to open it. When nothing happens, we bang again, but this time louder. She opens the window and looks down at us.

  “You know the rules: I only sell candy at recess. Come back in a few hours,” she says, closing the window in our faces.

  “Let’s try her door. That way she’ll know we’re not here for candy,” Carmen suggests. So, we all go around to the front door. It’s bright red and has wildflowers on it. We knock, and she opens and sees that once again it’s us.

  “You kids are pests! No sugar this early in the morning, and you keep going like this and you will be on my ‘no sale’ list!” she says as she goes to close the door on us.

  “Madam Monday!” I shout as the door closes. We wait to see if she’ll open the door again. Nothing. Carmen and I look at each other sadly. This is the only lead we have. Now what? Just when we are about to leave, the bright red door opens back up again.

  “This isn’t about candy, is it?” the candy lady asks.

  “No. It’s about my family,” I reply.

  “What about them?”

  “They’re gone. And we need your help,” Carmen says.

  “Who took them?” the candy lady asks.

  I reply, “Lady Lydia.”

  An
d right away, her face changes. Her eyes grow dark with concern. Her posture stiffens, and her eyes dart back and forth.

  “You’d better come in,” she says.

  We enter her apartment, and we’re not ready for what we find in there—a room full of doors.

  “Each one leads to a different part of the world. How do you think I’m able to bring you candy from anywhere?” she asks.

  We all look at each other but don’t say anything. She invites us to sit down on her cloud-shaped sofa. Yes, it’s literally shaped like a cloud.

  “Now, how do you know about Lady Lydia? Have you been messing around in the graveyard? Is that what this is about? Did all of you kids dare each other to go inside the graveyard? Speak!” she demands.

  “We didn’t,” I say.

  “Gabrielle is right. We never went anywhere near a graveyard. Lady Lydia came to her,” Carmen says.

  “No! That’s not possible. She’s imprisoned,” the candy lady says. We all look at her; she reads the expressions on our faces and begins to whisper something. Then she waves her hand in front of her face, and a small portal opens in the middle of the air, showing us an abandoned graveyard. She searches through the portal.

  “I can’t feel her energy. She’s not in the graveyard,” the candy lady says.

  “That’s what we wanted to tell you,” I say. “She’s escaped. She offered to give me three wishes in exchange for my essence.”

  “You’re from Haiti. The final place she needs to collect.”

  “Yes, and does this mean you’re Madam Monday?” Carmen asks.

  “Yes, I am. This is all my fault. I should have ended Lydia when I had the chance. But it’s so hard to end things with a friend.”

  “You and the bad witch were once on the same side?” I ask.

  “Yes, we were.”

  “What happened?” Carmen asks.

  “We were chosen to care for this area,” Madam Monday begins. “Brooklyn was ours to look after and to protect. Everyday people from different parts of the world would settle here. There were times when one group didn’t get along with the other. That would cause strife and tension among the community. And that’s where Lydia came in.

  “She worked hard to find a solution to the disharmony in the neighborhood. I told her that it was only a matter of time and that things would settle down. And they did, but for Lydia, it was too much to wait. She didn’t want any arguing or discord at all.

  “She came up with an idea—why not make all the humans the same? That way, no one would ever argue or get into fights. There would be nothing to disagree on if everyone was the same.

  “In her mind, she was giving the world a gift—the gift of assimilation. That means everyone would act the exact same way. Like a copy of each other.”

  “She was obsessed with what she called ‘perfection,’ which meant that everything and everyone is to be the same.

  “And to make sure no one got in her way, she created an army. She took the most dangerous parts of various animals and put them together. She created creatures with venom, claws, and wings and allowed them to be invisible until she wanted them to be seen. She called them the Flying Evil Army of Rage; FEAR. And they had only one mission: do Lydia’s bidding.”

  “Did they do her bidding?” Rocky asks.

  “Oh yes! She was able to use them to scare the kids, and adults, too. I finally had to step in and stop her. I couldn’t do away with her completely, or maybe I didn’t want to, since we were friends at one point. Anyway, she’s back now, and this time, Gabrielle, you have to do the one thing I couldn’t—you have put an end to Lydia, once and for all. Now tell me you didn’t make a wish yet.” Her eyes are looking right through me.

  “I made two of them,” I confess as I lower my head.

  “You made two wishes?” she yells. The cloud we’re sitting on starts to shake and sputter. It throws us off and down to the floor.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset. Oscar is connected to my emotions. If I’m upset, he’s upset,” she says as she looks at the sofa.

  “You named your sofa Oscar?” Rocky asks.

  “Of course. Oscar’s a good name for a cloud. Now, Gabrielle, why in the name of all that is good would you make two wishes?”

  I quickly tell her the story, and she listens carefully.

  “And now, my family is gone. What do I do?” I ask.

  “This is some pickle you’ve gotten yourself into. But if I had made the spell stronger, it would have kept Lady Lydia in place. Well, no, because sooner or later, she would have gotten free. Well, that doesn’t mean we’re not to blame . . .” Madam Monday is having a conversation with herself. She starts to argue back and forth about whether it was her fault or not.

  “Um, excuse me. Can we get back to my missing family?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes. Sorry. I just hate that I wasn’t able to keep her locked up for good,” Madam Monday says.

  “But you can fix that now, can’t you? You can lock her back up or something? Maybe drop a house on her like in The Wizard of Oz?” Carmen asks.

  “It’s not that simple, Carmen,” Madam Monday says.

  “Why not?” Rocky asks as he pokes the cloud sofa.

  “Lady Lydia is a very clever witch. She knows that I can’t interfere with a deal that has taken place in good faith. Now, did she hurt you and force you to make a deal with her?”

  “No, I guess not,” I reply.

  “Did she make you eat or drink anything that played with your mind to make you say yes to the deal?”

  “No, Madam Monday. She didn’t,” I reply.

  “Then it was a fair deal, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. And she’s too powerful now. I won’t be able to put her back into the graveyard.”

  “There has to be a way to get her to return my family. And set the kids in the stream free,” I say.

  “Lady Lydia has gotten strong thanks to all the essences she’s collected from all the kids. If you set them free, that should diminish her powers. And when that happens, all the magic she’s done should come undone,” Madam Monday tells us.

  “Then maybe I can get my family back?”

  “Exactly,” Madam Monday replies.

  “Okay, so how do we set the kids free?” I ask.

  “The stream has a thin layer on top that keeps all the essences trapped. It blocks them from breaking free. There’s an animal that feeds on protective coatings just like the one in the stream. It’s native to Haiti. It’s called the candy cane snail. Before Lydia was trapped in the graveyard, she killed all the snails because she knew they could be used against her. I managed to save one—just one.”

  “I know it! It has colors on its shell that go around in circles,” I say.

  “Yes, that’s the one you need. But now there is only one left in existence. And to make sure Lydia didn’t kill it, I enchanted it so that only the person who has struck a deal with Lydia can hold it. If anyone else tries to hold it with their bare hands, it will sear their skin.”

  “Where can we find the snail?” I ask.

  “You have to go get the snail in the forest just beyond that door,” Madam Monday says, motioning toward the door a few feet away from us.

  “I just walk through that door and grab a snail?” I ask.

  “Yes, but there are traps.”

  “She can’t go alone. Gabrielle needs us to go with her,” Rocky says.

  “You don’t have a choice; only one person through the door at a time,” Madam Monday says. “And only the person who made the deal can hold the snail. Otherwise, it will burn you. There’s a portal right through there. Be warned: there will be evil things waiting for you on the other side of that door. Are you ready?”

  I don’t answer. I keep thinking about how powerful Lady Lydia is and how weak I have been. If I weren’t weak, I would have never gotten into this mess to begin with, and now look: my family is paying for my mistakes.

  “Gabrielle, are you ready to go through that door?
” Madam Monday asks.

  “It’s all my fault. I’m weak; I couldn’t resist her offer,” I reply.

  “Gabrielle, why do you think Lady Lydia picked you?” Madam Monday asks.

  “Because I’m from Haiti and she needs my essence to destroy Brooklyn.”

  “Well, yes, but why you? Other kids from Haiti live in Brooklyn. You’re not the only one. So why, out of a hundred kids, did she choose you to be the one to give her your essence? Why you and not someone else?”

  I think about it for a moment, but I can’t come up with an answer. I shrug, and she smiles warmly.

  “Gabrielle, she picked you because you are special. You have courage like no one else I’ve seen in a long time. That means your essence is stronger than most. And that will give her even more powers. That’s why she picked you. But that’s also the reason you will defeat her.”

  “Do you really think I can?” I ask.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. I need you to believe that you are strong enough and courageous enough for this battle. Do you believe that?”

  I look out the window because I don’t want to face Madam Monday or my friends. The good witch turns me to face her and says, “It seems that along the way, you’ve forgotten just how special you are. Allow me to remind you . . .” She waves her hand, and I am standing in the middle of my village.

  “What am I doing here?” I ask.

  “No one can see you. You’re inside your own memories. Do you see yourself over there?” she asks.

  I follow her gaze and watch a younger version of myself help my mom carry gallons of water from our well into the house.

  “You were too little to carry them, but you wanted to help so bad that you found a way to make it work. It took you seven trips, but you did it. You helped your mom get water from the well.”

  “I remember that. I was so excited to help.”

  “She knew that you wanted to ease her load, and it made her proud. And take a look over there. Who is that girl who is helping to hide a friend from soldiers who came to do him harm?”

  I look where she’s pointing, and I see a boy from our village—Jessie—being chased by soldiers. He quickly enters my house, and I hide him under my bed. I had forgotten that.