STOP! I don’t want the house to go backward!
The house stops moving. I sigh with relief. I write: I just want my house to be normal.
I think about the word normal.
The house is beginning to shudder and rumble.
NO! STOP! Not normal. I don’t want a normal, everyday house. I just want our house.
Okay. I’m ready when you are.
Wait! Let me think. I take a deep breath. I am a very good writer.
I can do this. Using my imagination, I start at the bottom of my house and work my way to the top.
Then, using my turquoise pen, I start to write.
I use my best words to describe our house. Like cozy. And stuccoed. And timbered (which is the word Dad uses to describe the outside of our house). I think about writing rabbit warren. But I decide NOT to use it to describe my house. My book might fill my house with rabbits! I decide to save rabbit warren for another story, another day.
I write my bedroom back with all my books. I write about Anna’s pink, glittery bedcover and all her stuffed animals. I describe my parents’ room. I put in Mom’s dresser with all her makeup lined neatly on top. I write in the baby’s room, even the crib in bits on the floor. I put in every single detail.
When I’ve finished, I title it:
OUR WARM, COZY, LOVING HOME
Then I remember one last thing.
And I, Polly Diamond, am not invisible.
Are you sure? Being invisible is pretty awesome.
I consider it. Being invisible is totally awesome. But I bet Mom won’t let me hold my baby brother if she can’t see me.
I’m sure.
Anything else?
I think.
Oh, all right. Anna’s not a banana anymore. She’s just Anna.
The walls begin to rumble and shake.
NINE
When the rumbling stops, Shaylene sits up and rubs her head. “Polly!” she says. “What’s going on?” She looks around nervously.
“I’m hungry,” Anna says.
“Do you want a banana?” I offer. And giggle.
“Hello, everyone! Where are you?” Ms. Hairball calls in her soft, sweet voice from the front door.
We hurry into the hallway.
“Guess what?” Ms. Hairball takes off her flowery coat.
I’m too busy looking around the house to answer. Phew! Everything is perfect! I even remembered that the picture by the front door is of a horse. I really am a very good writer. It’s our regular house. I glance up the stairs. The carpet is not on the ceiling anymore! But the roll of carpet isn’t on the floor, either. Whoops. I must have forgotten to write it in.
Shaylene comes up behind me. She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Is Anna still a banana?” she asks quietly.
“A what?” Ms. Hairball asks. “What’s going on?”
“I was a banana!” Anna says. “Polly was invisible!”
“I have a magic book,” I say. “Everything I write comes true.”
“A banana, huh! How fun,” says Ms. Hairball. “I’m glad you’ve had a good time.”
“The house had thousands of rooms,” I say. “And Anna really was a banana.”
“Any guesses yet?” Ms. Hairball asks. “Your parents have exciting news!”
“What?” I ask.
“Your brother arrived!”
“Our brother?” I say. My brother. My new baby brother.
“Look!” Ms. Hairball holds up a photo on her phone. The baby is small and scrunched.
“Yuck,” says Anna.
“He’s soooooo cute!” Shaylene cries.
I roll my eyes. Like Anna, I have a scary-good eye roll. Secretly, I agree with Anna. The baby looks like a big raisin.
“What’s his name? Cootchiecooooo,” Shaylene says to the photo.
“Finn,” Ms. Hairball replies.
“Finn? Like a shark fin? That was not on my list,” I say.
“Shall we call your parents, girls?”
When Dad answers the phone, I say, “I like the name Finn, but I like the name Basil better.”
“That’s good,” Dad says, “because his name is Finn Basil Diamond.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he says.
“It’s the best name ever.”
“How’s everything at your end?”
“Great!” I say. “I turned the house into a house with a thousand rooms. My bedroom was an aquarium.”
“Super-Polly-tastic,” says Dad.
“I really did!”
In the background at his end, there’s a LOUD yell. “Is that baby Basil?” I ask.
“Finn is very . . . vocal about what he wants,” Dad replies. “You wanna talk to Mom?”
Finn gets even louder. “Maybe later,” I say.
“Good idea,” says Dad. “Okay, Dolly P. See you in the morning. And then you can show me your book.”
My tummy grumbles. “I’m so hungry,” I say to Ms. Hairball as I hand the phone to Anna.
“Let’s eat,” says Ms. Hairball.
“After we eat,” I say, “maybe we can fix up the house for baby Basil.”
“Fix up the house?” repeats Shaylene, turning away from her phone. Her eyebrows rise.
I imagine my house fixed up. Perhaps my book would put it in the sky! “Actually, I probably don’t want to fix it up! But don’t worry,” I say. “I have a great idea.”
After supper, we get to work. Shaylene and Ms. Hairball put up the curtains. They’re patterned with birds. I smooth on the wall stickers.
Shaylene checks her phone. “Nooooooo way! A giant snake was just captured on Main Street.”
“A giant snake?” I say. “Was it as big as . . . oh . . . I don’t know—a roll of carpet?”
“Snakes are gross!” cries Shaylene, still looking at her phone. She passes me a onesie. We all take the tags off the baby clothes. Ms. Hairball strings up some fairy lights that we find in the basement.
“Baby Finn needs fish,” Anna says, looking at the walls.
I giggle. A fin needs a fish! “But our fish are gone,” I say. “Maybe when Dad’s back, we can paint our room Aquarium Blue. Like an aquarium.”
“Okay,” she says. She picks up her stuffed unicorn and puts it in the baby’s crib. “Our baby can have that.”
“I’m glad you’re not a banana anymore,” I say.
“Me, too.”
I notice my open book on the floor. It has written to me: So, have you picked out my name?
Your name? I forgot I was supposed to give you a name! Hmmm. What about Mint? Mint is a great name. Mint means an herb—like Basil—AND mint means a place where money is made, AND it means new and unused, AND it’s a word for candy.
Um . . . any other ideas?
Crane? That’s the name of a machine and a bird. Or Jam—a thing to eat, and a word for when people squeeze together, and a word for when a band plays. Or Date—a fruit, and an outing . . .
Those aren’t really names.
I think. And think. And think some more. Then I smile.
SPELL. It means three things—a spell, like a short period of time. But that’s not the best meaning. It means spell, like a magic spell, AND spell, like spelling a word! You are a writing and spelling book after all!
My name’s Spell! I love it!
What should we do tomorrow, Spell?
Whatever you like.
Spell’s right. We can do whatever we like together.
“Kidlets, come on,” interrupts Shaylene. “We’re nearly done in here.”
I put the book to one side and draw a picture of our whole family on paper Ms. Hairball gave me. I draw baby Finn Basil Diamond in the center. I color. Anna covers the edges with sparkles. Then we make a huge sign.
We hang it across the room. And we stick up the picture of us all.
“It’s perfect,” I say when we’re done.
And it is. It really is.
The End.
ALICE KUIPERS writes both novels and picture
books. Her debut YA novel, Life on the Refrigerator Door, was published in thirty countries. School Library Journal said her debut picture book, Violet and Victor Write the Best-Ever Bookworm Book, was “a charming exploration of the creative process that will inspire young writers,” while its sequel, Violet and Victor Write the Most Fabulous Fairy Tale, was a Kids’ Indie Next List selection. Born in London, she now lives in Canada with her husband, who is also a writer, their four children, and their dog, Bamboo. Learn more about her at www.alicekuipers.com.
DIANA TOLEDANO’S name is pronounced “Deanna” because she is from Spain. Like Polly, she has curly hair and wears glasses. She grew up in Madrid where she studied art and art history. In addition to working as an illustrator, she also teaches in museums. She lives in San Francisco, where she shares a hundred-year-old house with her red-bearded husband and a fluffy kitty. Learn more about her at www.diana-toledano.com.
Polly Diamond and the Magic Spell Page 3