Secondhand Wishes

by Anna Staniszewski

  I couldn’t imagine what he did with all his earnings. Everyone in school knew about Felix’s side business, and his supply would always get dangerously low before big games and tests and dances.

  “Thanks,” I said as I carefully slipped the clovers into the small coin purse that I always kept with me. I wasn’t sure I believed in all that four-leaf clover superstition, but it was better to be on the safe side. Even if it did mean forking over most of the money I earned at the antique shop.

  “Thank you,” Felix said, shutting his locker. “You’re, like, my best customer.”

  “You must be the luckiest person on the planet to find so many clovers,” I said.

  Felix shrugged. “My mom’s half Irish. That must be it.”

  “Huh, I thought your mom’s family was from Vietnam,” I said, remembering an ancestry report we’d all had to do back in fourth grade.

  “They are, but some of them live in Ireland.” Felix slung his bag over his shoulder. “Well, see ya!” he said before heading off to catch the bus.

  When I went to meet Cassa in front of the school at our usual bench, she jumped to her feet. “Lexi! I heard them call your name over the loudspeaker. Is it Austin again?”

  “Another stomach bug gone wrong,” I said. “My mom called your mom about having me stay over, but she said you guys are redoing your kitchen?”

  “I thought I told you.” Cassa’s forehead wrinkled. “Or maybe I told Marina. Anyway, Mom’s finally replacing that gross linoleum and it’s such a mess! We’ve been living on takeout for the past couple of days.”

  “Bummer,” I said. “I guess that means I have to go stay with my weird aunt instead.”

  I waited for Cassa to insist that I stay at her house—that’s what I would have done in a second if the situation were reversed. But instead she said, “That stinks!” And that was it.

  We stood in silence for a minute because, really, what else was there to say? It would be weird to beg her to let me sleep over if she didn’t want me to, right? Finally, I glanced at my watch. “We should go or we’ll be late.”

  “Late for what?” Marina asked, appearing in front of us. She was wearing one of her brightly colored necklaces that she’d beaded herself. It was pretty, I supposed, if you liked drawing attention to yourself. Then again, Marina was one of the tallest girls in our grade, so maybe she couldn’t hide even if she wanted to.

  “There you are,” Cassa said. She turned to me. “Marina’s coming to check out the shop today. She’s going to love it, don’t you think, Lex?”

  I tried to smile, but my lips didn’t want to cooperate. Marina was coming to the shop now too? Maybe it was silly, but the Antique Barn had always been mine and Cassa’s after-school thing. We’d never invited anyone to come with us before.

  As we left the school grounds, passing the old cemetery next door, Cassa explained about her mom’s store to Marina. “She opened it right after she and my dad got divorced, so she calls it her second husband.” She laughed. “The place is awesome, though. You never know what you’ll find. One time, I was looking for a book on Scottish lochs, but none of the libraries had it and then—poof!—it showed up at the shop! The exact book I needed for my project! And another time, a lady was looking through the jewelry display, and she picked up this old ruby necklace she said was just like one her mom used to have. When she looked at the back, she realized it had her mom’s initials engraved on it. Isn’t that insane?”

  “How did the necklace get there?” Marina asked. She was walking so fast on her long legs that I was practically running to keep up. Cassa didn’t seem to notice that we were almost sprinting.

  “I don’t know,” Cassa admitted. “The point is, there’s like this magic to old things. Sometimes they pop up right when you need them. And every old lamp and book and teapot is on its own little adventure, you know?” Her voice took on the same dreamy quality it always did when she talked about the Antique Barn. I didn’t know why she was so eager to try out knitting when it was obvious that she was happiest working at her mom’s store.

  Marina didn’t look all that impressed. “So the shop is on Main Street? Is it anywhere near that bead store I was telling you about?”

  “Beady Buy?” Cassa said. “Yeah, it’s a block away.”

  “Can we go? I want to get some stuff for a new bracelet I’m working on.”

  “We don’t have time,” I jumped in, glancing at my watch. “We have to be at the Antique Barn at three thirty.”

  Marina let out a little “tsk” sound. “So we’re a couple of minutes late. Who cares?”

  We stopped at an intersection in front of the synagogue where Cassa and her mom went sometimes. As we waited to cross the street, I flashed Cassa a pleading look. “We really have to stick to the schedule,” I said. Surely she’d understand why this was so important today.

  “Why?” Marina asked. “You won’t get fired, will you?” She giggled.

  Cassa smiled back at her. “No. It’s just that Lexi has a deal with the universe.”

  I glanced at the ground, my face suddenly hot. My theory wasn’t exactly a secret, but whenever I’d tried to tell anyone else about it, they never understood. Why would Cassa bring it up?

  Sure enough, Marina frowned and asked, “What does that mean?”

  The light changed and the “Walk” sign turned on, but Marina was clearly not going to move until I explained. “Think of the universe as one of those two-sided scales,” I said. “If something bad happens on one side, you have to put something good on the other side to balance it out.”

  Her frown grew deeper. “Why would the universe care about you being on time?”

  “Because it’s a good thing.”

  “You know when it’s supposed to snow,” Cassa jumped in, “and you do all your homework because you know if you don’t, then there’s definitely going to be school the next day? Well, it’s like that. You do the homework so you get a snow day.”

  “You do everything right so that nothing goes wrong,” I added.

  Marina shrugged as the “Do Not Walk” sign started flashing. “Okay, I get it,” she said. But I could tell she didn’t. Even so, that didn’t mean I could give up on trying to keep the universe happy, not when there was so much to lose.

  “Come on,” I said. “We should go.”

  But Cassa didn’t move. “Lex?” she said, winding one of her curls around her finger. “I do kind of want to check out the bead store. You don’t mind going ahead on your own, do you? And we’ll meet you at the Barn in a few?”

  I stared at her for a second, sure she was joking. Maybe she didn’t totally buy into the whole idea of keeping the universe happy, but she knew how important it was to me. How could she change our routine just like that, especially when Austin needed my help? I mean, she didn’t even like beads. But Cassa didn’t look like she was kidding. Instead, there was something like a pleading look on her face.

  “N-no,” I said finally. “I don’t mind, I guess. If that’s what you want to do.”

  “You’re the best!” Cassa said, her face exploding into a bright smile. Then she grabbed Marina’s arm and the two of them hurried away, leaving me standing at the corner by myself.

  When I got to the Antique Barn, I scanned the rows of weathered tables, dressers overflowing with knickknacks, and old clocks hanging from beams in the ceiling. It was perfectly controlled chaos, which was part of what I liked about helping out here, that and the comforting smell of pine that always hung in the air. I took a deep breath and waited for the dusty, familiar feeling of being in the shop to settle over me. But being there didn’t feel right without Cassa.

  “Where’s my daughter hiding?” Ms. Hinkley called from behind the counter. It had been made from a couple of old wagon wheels, a “great find” at one of the antique shows that Cassa and her mom were always visiting.

  “Cassa’s on her way over,” I said, not wanting to go into details.

  “How’s your brother?” Ms. Hinkley
’s face was full of concern. “I’m sorry we can’t have you stay with us this time, but you’ll be okay with your aunt, won’t you?”

  “Austin will be fine. I’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine,” I practically squawked. Desperate to change the subject, I added, “Cassa told me you picked up some things this morning?”

  Ms. Hinkley nodded and led me to a pile of boxes in the back of the store. “A couple of nice armoires, and a box of odds and ends. Oh, and when I got to the shop, I found a few cartons on the steps. Would you mind sorting through everything?”

  “Sure.” That happened a lot, people dumping their old stuff in front of the store. Maybe it was easier to have someone else throw some of your memories away for you.

  “As always, if there’s anything you like, feel free to put it aside for yourself,” Ms. Hinkley said.

  “Thanks.” That was technically one of the perks of helping out at the Barn. Cassa was always bringing stuff home from the store, but I’d never found anything that spoke to me.

  “I’ll be in the back office. Give a shout if anyone comes in, okay?” Ms. Hinkley asked.

  I nodded and pulled on some plastic gloves. When I opened one of the boxes, my eyes stung from the dust. It was clear no one had looked at this stuff in years, and I could see why. The box was full of broken toys and yellowed books and musty T-shirts with weird band names, nothing you’d bother to remember.

  As I sorted through the items, my muscles slowly relaxed. No matter how out of control life felt, putting things in order always made me calmer. After a few minutes, I had four separate piles on the floor: Trash, Recycle, Keep, and Maybe. The Maybe pile was the one I kept agonizing over, so I was glad Ms. Hinkley would make the final decision.

  Satisfied, I opened the next box. On top was a shoebox full of ticket stubs from concerts and a stack of tattered teen magazines. I put them all into the Recycle pile and kept digging. Underneath an unused calendar from over twenty years ago and a couple of creepily smiling dolls with neon hair, I found a small velvet bag. The fabric used to be soft and black, but now it was faded and matted. It felt as though there were marbles inside, but the shape of them was wrong. They clinked together as I pulled open the bag. Inside, I found four shiny stones, about the size of chocolate coins, each a different shade of gray. Each had a word written on it: Friendship, Family, Health, and Success.

  What were these?

  I glanced at the velvet bag again and read the small tag hanging from the string. Magical Wishing Stones, it said in loopy cursive. Then, in smaller letters: Make a wish and let the magic of the stones bring luck and happiness to all areas of your life.

  Um, okay. What kind of magical kit had four of something? There were always three wishes in fairy tales, and it was always the seventh son of the seventh son who did big important things in fantasy novels. Even five stones would have been better than four! Then again, four-leaf clovers were supposed to bring good luck, so maybe it wasn’t that weird.

  I poured the stones back into the bag and cinched up the top, but I couldn’t quite make myself put them in the Trash pile. I knew avoiding sidewalk cracks to ward off bad luck was silly—not to mention handing all my money over to Felix—but I did it on the off chance that it might keep the universe happy. I didn’t believe in magic, definitely not the way Cassa did, but maybe there was a chance these stones had some good energy attached to them too.

  Just then, the front door jingled open, and Cassa’s deep laugh echoed through the store.

  “Those earrings are going to look so good on you when they’re done!” Marina was saying. I could just see the top of her head over one of the shelves, but she couldn’t see me.

  “We can make them on Friday, after we work on our time capsule project,” Cassa said. “I know! We could have a sleepover at my house.”

  “Sure!” Marina said. “That would be fun.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Cassa didn’t want me to sleep over when I desperately needed a place to stay, but she hadn’t thought twice about inviting Marina? And it wasn’t only that. It was Cassa always going on about how great Marina was, and telling her about things first, and wanting to spend every spare minute with her. Ever since school had started, it was as though my best friend had started to forget about me. And the more she saw Marina, the worse things got.

  I squeezed the bag of wishing stones in my hand so tightly that my palm hurt. Then, on a whim, I pulled out the Friendship stone again, curled my fingers around it, and closed my eyes. “I wish Cassa and Marina wouldn’t talk to or see each other anymore,” I whispered.

  I waited for a second, hoping to feel a tingle or a zap, some sign that my wish had worked. Of course, there was nothing. Nothing but Marina and Cassa’s laughter still echoing through the shop.

  With an angry sigh, I grabbed the bag of stones and threw the Friendship one inside. I pulled the bag shut and tossed it on top of the Trash pile. Finally, I yanked off my gloves and dropped them next to the two unopened boxes.

  Then I marched out of the Barn, straight past Cassa and Marina.

  “Hey, Lex. Where are you going?” Cassa called.

  But I didn’t dare stop. Instead, I took off at a run, focusing on stepping exactly in the center of the sidewalk and breathing in time with my strides—step and step, and breath and breath, and step and step, and breath and breath—until there wasn’t room in my brain for anything else.

  When I got to Aunt Glinda’s house, I leaned against the front gate for a minute, trying to catch my breath. Back when Grandma Jean had lived here, I vaguely remembered the house looking cheerful and bright, but now that it was only Aunt Glinda, the paint had started to chip and the house generally looked tired. I knew how it felt.

  It was strange to be at the house by myself. Usually my family only went over to Aunt Glinda’s on her birthday. We didn’t see much of her besides that, other than holidays at our place. Mom said it was because her sister was “a bit of a loner,” but I wondered how someone could spend so much time by herself in such a cluttered old house. It would drive me insane.

  “Lexi?” a voice said behind me.

  I turned to find Elijah Lewis-Green standing by the driveway. I hadn’t seen him since he’d started being homeschooled last spring, but he still wore jeans covered in hand-drawn cartoons and blue glasses that popped against his dark skin. He could have been a character from one of his favorite comics.

  “Hey, Elijah,” I said. “Um, what’s up?”

  “I have something for you,” he said, pulling a rolled-up piece of paper out of his pocket. “I heard your brother was sick again. I made this for him.”

  I was about to ask Elijah how he’d heard about Austin, but then I remembered that one of his moms was a nurse at the hospital. I unrolled the paper—a drawing of Austin dressed up as Batman—and smiled. “Wow, thanks. How did you know he’s into Batman?”

  “I remember you talking about his Halloween costume last year.” Elijah shrugged. “Well, see ya.” Then he flashed a small smile, hopped on his skateboard, and rode away.

  Only after Elijah had disappeared around the corner did I think to wonder how he’d known I was going to be at Aunt Glinda’s house. Then I noticed my aunt waving to me from the front window. I carefully slipped the drawing into my bag in between my color-coded notebooks and then ventured up the sagging porch stairs.

  Inside, the house reeked of mustiness and burned molasses.

  “Lexi!” Aunt Glinda singsonged from the kitchen. “Guess what just came out of the oven!”

  I dabbed at my sweaty forehead with my sleeve and then reluctantly peeked into the kitchen, trying not to cough. My aunt was decked out in one of Grandma Jean’s flowery aprons, holding a heaping plate of what looked like tiny brown bricks. That explained the terrible molasses smell.

  “How was school?” Aunt Glinda asked in a fake chipper voice, as if we were acting out a scene from a TV show. “How many cookies would you like? Two? Three?”

  My throat threatened to close up.
It was clear Aunt Glinda was trying to make me feel at home. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I also didn’t want to risk breaking my teeth.

  “Thanks. I don’t want to spoil my dinner,” I finally said. Too late, I noticed a pot of something greenish bubbling on the stove.

  “Oh, that’s my spinach stew,” Aunt Glinda said, following my gaze. “I found a recipe for it in one of your grandmother’s cookbooks. I didn’t have all the ingredients, but I think it should still be good.”

  I glanced around my aunt’s mess of a kitchen, which was in serious need of some life hacks. She didn’t even have her spices stored in mason jars! No wonder she couldn’t keep track of which ingredients she needed.

  Aunt Glinda finally gave up and put the cookies down on the table. “I’m so glad we get to spend a little time together,” she said. “When your mom called me, I jumped at the chance to help. I only wish poor Austin was feeling better.”

  “Do you know how he’s doing?”

  Aunt Glinda’s smiled faded. “He’s okay, but they’re thinking about keeping him longer than one night to be safe.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “The good news is that you can go see him tonight after all. We can stop by your house on the way to the hospital to pick up some clothes for you.”

  I was glad about the last part at least, but my heart still sagged. So much for catching Austin’s stomach problems early this time. But he’d be fine. He had to be.

  “Thanks,” I told my aunt. I pulled Elijah’s drawing out of my bag. “I’ll have to make sure to bring this for him. My, um, friend made it.”

  Aunt Glinda’s face lit up. “How nice! Was this your friend Cassandra?”

  “Cassa,” I corrected. “And no, it wasn’t her. She’s …” But what could I say? She’s not my friend anymore? She’s been brainwashed by an alien named Marina who’s probably taking her back to the mother ship right now? “I think it’ll cheer Austin up,” I said instead.

  “It certainly will,” Aunt Glinda said. “What’s this?” She held up a piece of neon paper that had stuck to the edge of the drawing.