Graceful

by Wendy Mass

  I whirl around so fast my neck hurts. There she is, standing beside the birdbath, holding what looks like a cup of lemonade with ice.

  We all stare in shocked silence. Then Leo sticks out his finger and pokes her on the arm.

  “Um, ouch?” she says, rubbing the spot.

  Leo grins. “Yup, she’s real.”

  “How did you get here?” I ask.

  Bailey shakes her head. “Couldn’t tell ya. One minute I was in study hall doodling my name on my sneaker” — she pauses to lift one leg up to show us her name in purple sparkly gel pen — “then the next I was here with you fine folks and this refreshing icy beverage.” She lifts the glass in a toast. “Here’s to freaky magic stuff!”

  “It’s my first time, too,” David admits after she drains her cup. “I was starting to think all Grace could do was make pizza!”

  Tara kicks him in the shin. “And cure your dad!” she says.

  “Well, that, too,” he admits, winking at me.

  We all laugh, and for a second I almost forget why we’re here. But only for a second. I bend down to look over the names of the herbs printed on tiny wooden sticks. I can’t even pronounce half of them. “I wish Angelina had left a book of instructions,” I mutter. Then I look up at the group hopefully.

  They all shake their heads. I knew it was a long shot.

  “Have you ever been inside Angelina’s house?” Bailey asks me. “Maybe she did leave something for you.”

  “Amanda and I are pretty good at climbing in windows,” Leo volunteers.

  I get to my feet. “Knowing Angelina, she’d have a shark with its mouth open waiting under the window.”

  “No crime on my watch,” Ray says. “I’m too pretty to go to jail.”

  Amanda and Tara roll their eyes.

  “What if the key to the store isn’t actually the key to the store?” Bailey asks. “What if you got it wrong and it’s the key to the house?”

  I hesitate. That would explain why I haven’t been able to get into the shop. But then I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Angelina’s letter said the key would ‘open doors to wonders unimagined,’ and that Tara would know where to use it. So it’s got to be the store.”

  “I agree,” Tara says. “I’ve never been inside her house.”

  “We could still try it,” Amanda says, stuffing what looks like a clump of blue flowers into her pocket. “If Angelina ever said exactly what she meant, I’d fall over in shock.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Rory says. “It feels a little weird, though, to go in without permission.”

  Bailey pulls the pouch with the key out of her back pocket and holds it out to me.

  I look at Tara. She shrugs. “Angelina moves in mysterious ways. If there’s something in there that could help you, I think you should do it.”

  I look back to Rory. She hesitates, then nods.

  “Okay, I’ll try.” I take the key from Bailey and slowly climb the porch steps. With each step, I feel the pull of the house getting stronger, as if I’m being tugged by some unseen rope. One more strong yank, and I’m suddenly standing right in front of the door. I turn around to look at the others and see MYSELF, still standing on the second step, frozen with one foot in the air.

  The rest of Team Grace is frozen, too. How can we be frozen in time when we’re already out of time? How can I be both here and there?

  I really should stop asking questions I have no hope of knowing the answers to. I put my hand on the door, and it opens without me even using the key. Instead of the wooden floor and painted walls I would have expected to see in an old house, I find myself in a lush, tropical garden that smells of ripe grapefruit and the sea. A circle of stone benches surrounds the garden. In the distance I can see the beach and can just make out the sound of the surf lapping at the shoreline. It is the most beautiful and relaxing place I have ever been.

  And I have been here before.

  When I lay frozen in bed the week after my birthday, feeling the vortex’s power run through my veins, I wasn’t in the hospital, or in my bedroom. I was HERE. This garden paradise, this is the place that kept me safe, and sane. And I had forgotten all about it.

  The benches are empty, except for one. I should be surprised to see her here, duck-shaped birthmark and all, but somehow I’m not.

  “Are you real?” I ask Angelina.

  She smoothes out the long brown dress she’s wearing. “That depends. Quantum physics tells us reality is actually not real at all. What we think of as solid matter turns out to be invisible waves of energy existing in a field of mathematical possibilities. Once you choose a direction, only then does it become real.”

  “Um, that’s a little beyond my fifth-grade science unit.”

  “Perhaps,” she agrees. “But you will need to know this one day, so don’t forget it.”

  I’ve already half forgotten it now! My bare feet sink a little deeper into the soft, white sand. “Where am I?” I ask. “Are we actually inside your house?”

  She shakes her head. “You are nowhere, and you are everywhere.”

  I cross my arms. “Seriously? That’s the answer you’re going with? First quantum physics and now nowhere and everywhere?”

  She chuckles. “We are in your power center, my feisty little friend, your higher self, if you will. You built this place with your imagination, but you breathed life into it, and now it’s as real as anyplace else. When you’re ready, this is where you will come to focus your power. For now, it waits.”

  “I’m ready,” I tell her. “What’s it waiting for?”

  “For you to get stronger, young Grace. What is the rush to end your childhood? Ask your friend Rory how well that worked for her. The turning of the planet will march you inevitably forward either way. I’ve been alive more than a century and it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

  It’s not like I don’t want to spend my days playing with Bailey, sewing funny outfits, and dancing really badly, but I am part of something much bigger than myself now, and no amount of ignoring that fact is going to change it.

  She taps her foot, waiting for an answer. But I don’t know how much to tell her about wanting to make my parents forget, or about the “big thing” that I want to be prepared for when it comes. Especially when I have no idea what that big thing is.

  Meanwhile, Angelina reaches for a glass beside her. Ice cubes clink against the sides as she sips. Good thing my imaginary power center is polite enough to offer drinks to its guests!

  “You surprise me, Grace,” she says after emptying the glass. “You are already stronger than I thought you would be so soon after draining your power. You have your own secrets, as I had mine. Soon you will begin to see where your gifts are needed. It may happen differently for you than it did for me. Time will tell.”

  “I really am ready,” I repeat.

  “You may or may not be,” she says, sounding a bit bored now. “There are many ways to connect to the source. Each will strengthen your connection to the power in a different way and will help you learn to control it. Experiment. Train yourself. Offer gratitude.”

  Okay, that’s vague, but at least it sounds like a start. “So … um, how exactly am I supposed to do all that?”

  She shakes her head at me. “Doesn’t anyone go to the library anymore?”

  Before I can argue that I was, in fact, just at the library last week to return the summer reading books Rory picked out for me, I am whisked out of the garden until I’m back inside my body, the key still unused in my hand. “Wait!” a voice shouts as I reach one hand out to the porch railing to steady myself. At first I think it’s my voice calling out to Angelina. But Rory is the one shouting. I force myself to focus on being back in the front yard. The others are all moving around like normal again. They must not have noticed anything different while I was gone. Rory runs up the steps and grips my arm.

  “Wait,” she repeats. “I don’t think the answer’s inside. Look.” She faces me toward Angelina’s gard
en. At first I don’t see anything different. But then Max swoops down low, grabs a clump of purple stalks in his beak, and drops them into the center of the birdbath. Flo approaches from the other side and adds a batch of green stems with tiny white flowers at the ends. Then they both fly off to different parts of the garden and do it all over again.

  “You may not know how to make a forgetting potion,” Rory says. “But they do.”

  Dear Diary,

  So it wasn’t even a full week before Grace pulled us out of time and brought us to Angelina’s house. I’m not blaming her, but I’m not even really sure why she needed all of us there. I was trying to be normal for a change, sitting in biology class, learning about DNA and how the human genome has a blueprint for not only our bodies but also for all of life on the planet hidden inside it, when suddenly the plastic double helix that Mrs. Robinson was holding up stopped swaying in midair.

  “Sweet!” Leo said from his stool next to me. He waved his hand in front of the faces of the two kids sitting across from us at the lab table. “Guess we have Grace to thank for this break from learning!”

  Biology and lunch are the only times I see Leo during the day. When it was time to choose lab partners, none of the other kids even glanced our way, like they wouldn’t have even considered asking either of us. So we chose each other. We’ve been choosing each other since the day we were born. But actually, when you think about it, we didn’t really have a choice at all. It wasn’t like we were waiting up in heaven — or wherever you wait before you’re born, if there is such a place — and said, let’s be born on the same day! And be best friends! And later, girlfriend and boyfriend!

  At least I’m pretty sure we didn’t. I sound like I’m complaining. I don’t mean to. I don’t think I mean to. When I was eleven, Kylie told me being thirteen is hard! She was SOOOO right. I never thought I’d miss being younger, and I definitely like the independence of thirteen, but I could do without feeling like sometimes I don’t know myself anymore. Like Stephanie’s pool party. It was okay, and her friends were nice to me and all. But I wish it had been just the two of us. Sometimes I would catch her eye across the pool and know she was thinking the same thing. I don’t really talk to her about Leo even when we ARE alone. When one person has a boyfriend and the other doesn’t, it just comes out sounding obnoxious when you complain about yours.

  Anyway, so after everyone turned all statue-like, Leo hopped off his stool and shouted something like, “The adventure begins!” But all I said was, “Didn’t Grace say she wouldn’t need us for a while?”

  And Leo said, “I guess she said that. But you know how these things go.”

  And, Diary, let me tell ya, I DO know how these things go. I told Leo to go ahead and I would meet him.

  “Okay,” he said. He hesitated, though, and I knew he didn’t want to leave me behind, so I said, “Hey, maybe there’ll be pizza.” He squeezed my hand and ran out. As soon as he left the room, I took out the folded piece of paper I’ve carried in my back pocket for a week. I’ve read the phone number over and over. I still haven’t called it, yet. I tucked it back away and then ran out to join the others.

  At Angelina’s house, Leo kept looking at me, and I know he was wondering if everything was okay, but he didn’t ask, which I’m glad about. I was also glad when Grace wound up not going inside. It just felt wrong. I don’t know when Angelina is going to be home, but entering her house without asking felt like invading her privacy. I think the key is for the store, anyway.

  So then, Diary, things took a weird turn (as though all the rest wasn’t weird enough!!! But that’s my life, I guess, measuring things in weird, weirder, weirder still, and weirdEST). Anyway, we got back to school and Grace told us to count to a hundred before she started time up again. That way we’d all have a chance to get back where we were before it happened, and no one around us would notice anything. David had to go back to the bathroom and lock himself in a stall, which was kind of funny.

  So Leo and I got back to biology class, and something about the way he looked at me as we climbed up onto our stools made me feel a little dizzy and warm. I glanced quickly around the room to make sure everyone was still frozen. Leo was counting out loud. “Seventy-eight … seventy-nine … eighty …”

  Before he could say eighty-one, I leaned over and pressed my cheek against his cheek. I closed my eyes. He wound his fingers through my hair and the dizzy feeling grew. We stayed like that, him breathing the numbers out into my ear, me just breathing.

  “Ninety-eight … ninety-nine …”

  I pulled away and we both turned to face Mrs. Robinson, who continued telling the class about the miracle of life.

  RORY: see pic below!!!!

  ANNABELLE: You’re going to make yourself crazy if you believe everything you read about him. There’s not even a picture.

  I know, I know, but I texted him this morning to see if it was true, and he didn’t answer.

  It’s the middle of the night there. Plus, if that article is true, which I’m sure it’s not, then he might still be out dancing!!

  Bleh. :(

  Honestly I’m not sure mere mortals are supposed to be in a relationship with movie stars.

  I know, it’s crazy-making. Hold on, doorbell. Probably paperboy wanting to be paid.

  What’s a paperboy?

  Been 5 mins. Forget about me?

  Roooooryyyyy. Hellllooooooo?

  I’m just going to start singing until you come back. Lalalala, this is my song. Doh Re Mi Fa So La Ti Doh. Ti Doh! Tea Dough! Tito! OMG I think I’m losing my mind. Twenty minutes now.

  SOOOOOO sorry!

  Finally! Paperboy? Whatever that is?

  No … guess again.

  Sunshine Kid selling cookies? Early trick-or-treater?

  Nope.

  I give up.

  HEY, ANNABELLE, THIS IS JAKE. HOW ARE YA?

  Er, um, huh? What?

  CAME TO SURPRISE RORY. SURPRISE!

  Uh … aren’t you in Hollywood right now? You know, dancing up a storm with uberwitch Madison? I mean, that lovely girl, Madison?

  ONLY IF HOLLYWOOD IS IN WILLOW FALLS THESE DAYS. AND JUDGING BY THE LACK OF TAN SKIN AND FAKE BLOND HAIR, I’M GONNA SAY IT’S NOT.

  But there’s no way you could have gotten here so fast after the show and the dancing.

  THEY FILM THOSE SHOWS IN THE AFTERNOON, THEN AIR THEM LATER. AND IT WASN’T ME WITH MADISON. IT’S MY NEW LOOK-ALIKE, A KID NAMED CARSON! NOW I CAN BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE. VOILÀ! MAGIC!

  Okay then. You know it’s a school day, though, right? Did you miss our school so much you felt the overwhelming urge to come back?

  LOL. YOUR SCHOOL IS NOT WITHOUT ITS CHARMS, BUT NO. HERE’S RORY.

  Okay, it’s me again. My parents said we can skip school today. Sawyer is losing-his-mind excited. We’re all going hiking at the reservoir.

  Have fun. Try not to fall into the water.

  I’ll do my best. XOX

  Ode to Our Compost Heap (Part One)

  By Leo Fitzpatrick

  O compost heap, you are so smelly

  Full of worms and dung and bones and jelly.

  But we’re doing our part to save the world

  Or so I’m told.

  The thing that I like most about you,

  Is the time I spend thinking while shoveling your goo.

  I don’t only think about eating, you know,

  Even though most people would think so.

  My head is full of other stuff,

  Like sometimes with Amanda things get tough.

  A teenage girl must be a hard thing to be,

  They worry about things that are foreign to me.

  I prefer to keep life simple,

  (Although I really could do without this pimple!)

  Ode to Our Compost Heap (Part Two)

  Washing off the sweat and dirt

  Always puts me in a happy mood.

  Life is simpler when you work the earth

  By turning garba
ge into plant food.

  I will bring some compost up to Apple Grove

  For our little trees struggling to take hold.

  I’ve never told Amanda this (in case she doesn’t feel the same)

  But those trees are a part of us,

  And I’ve given each a name.

  Bert and Hortense and Morris and Sue

  Mac and Ann and Phil.

  Okay, so those last lines don’t rhyme,

  But, really, that’s no crime,

  Because yesterday I got pulled from time.

  And if time had stopped forever

  During those last ten seconds,

  With my hand in her hair

  And her breath in my ear

  I wouldn’t have minded a bit.

  Dear Julie,

  My dad and I drove all the way home (to our old home) to arrange for the moving people. The house sold in less than a week! Apparently the people who bought it are huge fans of my dad and simply HAD to own the house where My Mailman Was the Leader of the Alien Zombie Apocalypse was written. My dad said now that I’m thirteen, I can start reading his books. I’m not sure I want to, though. What if I don’t like them? That would make for some awkward dinner table conversation! :0) Maybe YOU can read them?

  w/b/s

  Tara

  PS: About David … he makes me a nicer person. How’s that for mushy?? I haven’t seen him as much as I thought I would, but he’s been really busy with his dad and I’ve been busy moving … so, you know. It’s okay, though. Not every couple can be glued at the hip like Amanda and Leo.

  The thing about making a forgetting spell is that I have no idea how to do it. Sure, the hawks gave me the ingredients, but being able to understand the language of birds must not be in my job description. And don’t think I didn’t try, because I did. I asked them what I should do with the herbs and flowers they gave me, but they just made this loud kreeee sound (which was like the bird equivalent of rolling their eyes) and flew off.