“Well, to get back to the point,” continued Luna briskly, because she did not like to be reminded that both her brother and her sister were more athletic than she was, “at first, I also thought maybe Justin was mad about Dad and Fluff’s engagement. But last night, he told me that Fluffy gave him her Dictaphone.” Luna shook her head in disbelief. “He thinks she’s a real princess.”
“If Justin’s in serious trouble, he’d never tell us,” Claire said. “He thinks we’re squirts.”
“I know. That’s why I was thinking how about we spy on him, like detectives?”
Spying on their brother was always an exciting idea, even if Justin wasn’t in trouble. So the girls hung back, waiting for their brother to cross the next light. When he walked through Tower Hill’s seventh-grade entrance, he was too far ahead to notice them following.
The seventh-grade hall looked different from the fifth-grade hall, thought Luna as they sneaked through it. It was more grown-up, especially since there were lockers in it. (Fifth and sixth graders kept their books in their desks.) Luna could not wait to be in seventh grade, when she would get her own locker. In fact, she already had cut out some magazine pictures of horses, and one of cleft-chinned Captain Xeno from Galaxy Murk, to decorate the inside of her future locker door.
When Justin got to his locker, he stopped and glanced around nervously. Then he hunched down and used his shirtsleeve to try to rub something off its surface. Finally, he gave up, grabbed his books, and slunk off to class.
The twins waited until he rounded the corner before they hurried over to his locker. Scribbled in sloppy blue marker, they read:
Bundkin’s my breakfast! S.Z.
“Who’s S.Z?” asked Claire.
“I don’t know,” Luna answered. “We’ll have to do more detectiving.”
Just then a couple of seventh-grade girls stopped at the locker next to Justin’s. They read the locker scribble and started to laugh.
“Poor Justin,” said one girl. “I hear Stew is going to pulverize him.”
“Over what?” asked the other girl.
“Oh, who cares? Dumb guy-stuff.” The girls giggled some more and then glided away like a pair of swans. Luna watched them go. Oh, she couldn’t wait to be in seventh grade!
“Stew Zumback,” she said, tracing her fingernail over the initials. “He’s on the snow chain list. You know who he is, Clairsie. He’s big and plays basketball and he has a little mustache that looks like his lip needs dusting.”
“Anyone who wants to eat our brother for breakfast should be boycotted,” Claire said sternly.
“The problem is, you plus me equals a whole lot less than Stew.”
“I’m going to do something, anyhow!” Claire slammed her fist against Justin’s locker. It made a crash of noise, and some seventh graders turned to look. “Whoever wants to eat my brother for breakfast has to answer to me first! I’m gonna confront him!”
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” But Luna was not Claire, and once her sister decided to do something, Luna could count on her to do it.
That afternoon, the twins spied Stew Zumback at the bus line. He was stuffing chips into his mouth as fast as he could before the line monitor caught him.
“Now let me do the talking.” Claire grabbed Luna’s hand and marched up. “Are you Stew Zumback?” she asked.
Stew turned, mid-chew, and frowned. “Who’s asking?”
Claire’s mouth snapped shut. Under Stew’s beady eye, she seemed to have lost her nerve. Luna felt an odd and sudden surge of bravery. She stepped forward in front of her sister.
“You keep away from our brother, Justin Bundkin,” she squeaked. “Or one day, you might live to regret it.”
Stew gaped, giving a full view of the potato chip paste inside his mouth.
“Get lost, twins,” he said. “I’m gonna give Bundkin a black eye, just for your trouble. That kid’s got it coming.”
“We mean it!” squeaked Luna, after Claire still had not said a word.
Stew stepped closer. Luna saw that her height stopped at his armpit.
“And I mean, get lost!” he roared.
The twins ducked and ran.
“Now you’ve done it,” huffed Claire. “A black eye! Poor Justin!”
“I’ve done it? You did it! You and your bad idea!”
“Was not!”
“Was, too!”
“At least I did the talking! At least I didn’t just stand there!”
“So?” But Claire looked so embarrassed that Luna decided to drop it.
“Clairsie, I think that instead of looking for fights, from now on we should proceed with caution,”” said Luna. (To proceed with caution, in Luna’s mind, was always the best way to proceed.) “Starting with going home and asking Justin why he’s Stew Zumback’s breakfast.”
“Good idea!” Claire started to run down the street.
“Proceed with caution,” Luna warned.
Claire took off like a shot. Luna trailed her all the way home, through the front door, and up the stairs to Justin’s room.
“Justin-Justin-Justin! Why is Stew Zumback going to pulverize you? Why are you his breakfast, huh? Why-why-why?” shrieked Claire, taking a flying leap onto the middle of Justin’s bed.
“Hey! Out of my room, squirt!” Justin ordered, looking up from his homework. But he didn’t say it with his usual Justin energy. He didn’t even make a grab for Claire, who, after finding his hacky sack under his pillow, began playing a lying-down version of the game.
Luna hovered in the doorway. “Is every thing okay, Jus?” she asked.
“It’s nothing. Stew wants to beat me up ’cause I slammed him out of Destroyer three times in one day,” Justin mumbled. His face was red. “I can’t help it if I’m awesome at that game. And Stew’s an easy target. He’s big, and he moves slow. I’d have a harder time hitting a parked car.”
“Is that why you’ve been staying inside at recess?” Luna asked. “Is that why Stew wrote that stuff on your locker?”
“Yeah,” Justin admitted. “The guy’s just a jerk.”
“Poor you, Justin,” said Claire. “We tried to warn him off you today.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I can take care of myself,” Justin answered stiffly. “I’m kind of known as a lone wolf around school, you know.”
“You are not,” Luna corrected. “You’re hardly ever alone.”
“Well, if you ever wanted to call me Lone Wolf, though, you could. It’s kind of a nickname I’ve been working on.”
“Okay,” said Luna. She didn’t want to point out that most nicknames were given by others, not self-started. Justin seemed depressed enough as it was.
“Are kids really talking about it?” he asked. “Jeez. Even in fifth grade.” He looked sad. Then he looked grouchy. “Okay, squirts, you have five seconds left in my room before I start hollering. Four, three, two—”
The girls jumped out the door. Justin wasn’t fun to be around once he decided to start hollering.
“If we really want to help Justin, there’s only one solution,” Luna said when they were safe in their room. She used her grave almost-one-star-witch voice. “We’ll cast a spell.”
“No!” Claire gulped. Casting spells without Grandy to supervise was almost as strong a rule as No Telling.
“Yes! A small spell. A harmless little pinkie powder love spell,” said Luna, who loved-loved-loved-love spells. “A smushy, squishy, soften-up-Stew spell!”
Claire’s brow puckered. “Last time we did a spell without Grandy, we made a big mistake, remember? We tried to get Mr. Nadeesh’s cat out of a tree, and instead we turned it into a crow.”
“That’s because you said, ‘unstick thy caw,’ instead of ‘claw.’ Let me do the spell this time. Crumbs Claire, we learned love powders years ago! Besides, they’re harmless, you can even buy premade ones at some drugstores.”
Luna looked at Claire. She knew that she and Claire were thinking the same thing. Sure, Justin could be
obnoxious, but other times he was a terrific big brother who’d taught them how to do stomach-burps and headstands against the wall. If he needed witch protection, they ought to be gracious enough to give it. Otherwise, what was the point of witch powers?
They got to work.
Almost all the ingredients for the love powder could be found in the medicine chest or kitchen cupboard. The Little Book of Shadows called for talc, brown and white sugar, cinnamon, sweet basil, jasmine, and myrtle.
“I hope that the container is okay,” said Claire. “It’s supposed to be a cherished chalice. The only chalice I have is my Pooh drinking cup.”
“As long as you’re sure it’s cherished,” said Luna doubtfully. “It looks kind of chewed on the sides.”
“This is my favorite cup!” exclaimed Claire. “It’s perfect as it is!”
They pooled their allowances to get the jasmine and myrtle from the RiteAid, and they made the powder late that night, after Justin and their mother had gone to bed. At twelve minutes to midnight, they sneaked into his room, stood at the foot of his bed, crooked their right pinkies, and quickly chanted:
Goblet, chalice, cauldron, cup
Of love’s ambition, fill’er up!
Then they whispered Justin’s name and Stew’s name, sprinkled the powder over his outline, and tiptoed back to their room.
“If that does the trick, then it was worth losing sleep over,” said Luna as they burrowed in their beds.
The next morning, Justin looked radiant. His eyes and skin seemed to glow. Even more strange, he walked in step with the twins to school and held their hands at the cross lights, the whole time whistling “You Are My Sunshine.”
It was the handholding that made Luna think that maybe something in the spell had gone wrong. But what happened next was even more strange. After Justin dropped them off at the fifth-grade hall, the twins turned and followed Justin around the corner. They watched in dread as he strode right to where Stew and his buddies were leaning against the fire escape doors.
“I think you’re the greatest person I ever met!” Justin announced. He threw his arm around Stew’s shoulder. The other guys started to laugh.
“You’re crazy, Bundkin!”
“This some kinda joke?” growled Stew.
“Not at all. I have a very special feeling for you in my heart!”
“Get away from me!” barked Stew. “Or I’ll give you a black eye!”
“You big lunk.” Justin grinned. “That’s a good one.”
“Toenails and tombstones!” said Claire. She turned wide eyes on her twin. “What happened?”
“We mixed it up!” gasped Luna. “Justin’s smushy for Stew! Where did we go wrong? Was it the chewed chalice?”
“Of course not!” Claire answered hotly.
That afternoon, back at home, Luna flipped open their Little Book of Shadows and reread. It turned out to be the smallest thing. They were supposed to say Stew’s name first, then Justin’s. In their excitement, they had done it the other way around. But of course the teeniest mistake can be devastating, even in a harmless pinkie powder spell.
“Grandy would pulverize us, if she ever found out!” Luna despaired.
“She’d never give us our stars and kittens,” moaned Claire.
“How long ’til the spell wears off?”
Claire checked the book. “Three days! Poor Justin. I saw him hugging Stew at the fire drill. But I guess there’s nothing to be done.”
“There’s one thing,” Luna corrected. “We should be extra-extra nice to Justin. It’s all our fault he’s got two more days of slobbery Stew chasing.”
“Agreed,” said Claire, and they hooked pinkies on it.
But that night at the dinner table, Justin surprised them.
“Hey, Mom, I guess it’s just like you said—you really can kill people with kindness,” he announced.
Their mother lowered her fork. “How’s that?” she asked.
“I’ve had some problems with this kid at school, and I’ve been chasing him off by being extra nice. Like, every time I saw him today, I tackled him in a hug. By the end of the day, whenever he caught sight of me, he cleared out fast in the opposite direction! Problem solved!”
Jill Bundkin shook her head and laughed. “Well, that’s one way of taking my advice,” she said.
“I guess we shouldn’t have pinkie-hooked to be extra-extra nice,” said Claire. But since there was no going back on a pinkie hook, Luna gave Justin full rights to the remote control, while Claire took out the trash even though it was Justin’s turn.
They even served him the last of the carton of Schmidt’s coffee ice cream when there wasn’t enough to split three ways.
“Is this Be Kind to Big Brothers week?” asked their mother. Being a doctor, she was watchful of sudden changes.
“Love comes around and goes around,” Claire answered.
“And,” added Luna, “it’s never too late to change your mind about your brother.”
4
Fluffy’s Dresses
UNAWARE THAT SHE HAD been boycotted, Fluffy set the day of the wedding for June fifth.
“Mark that date!” she told the twins over the phone.
On their wall calendar, Claire marked a square black border around June fifth. Inside the square, she drew in a picture of Fluffy with crossed eyes and fangs and a Texas hat and the word yuck! underneath. (Since Claire was terrible at drawing, the picture was extra ugly, which made it extra good.)
Boycotting Fluffy was the only plan, unfortunately, that had popped out of the twins’ brewing vats. And all it meant really was thinking of new excuses for not spending weekends with their dad.
For example, they skipped one weekend by deciding to attend Julie Aledort’s indoor swimming party instead.
“I thought you girls hated swimming parties,” said their mother, which was true, but only because witches are known to hate-hate-hate still water, the kind that is in lakes and pools. (Ocean water is a different story. Since it’s controlled by moon tides, witches enjoy it enormously.)
And the twins had a terrible time at Julie’s since all they could do was watch every one else get wet and have fun.
But at least they didn’t have to see Fluffy.
The following week crossed into April, so that weekend they went out to Bramblewine.
“But you were out there two weekends ago,” said their mother.
“Yes, but we always go the first weekend of the month,” said Claire. “You can’t go against tradition.”
“I’m sure your father misses you,” said their mother.
The twins missed him, too.
“Nobody said boycotting would be easy,” Claire reminded Luna.
Luckily, April was Claire’s favorite month at Bramblewine. New grass was starting to come up, and Grandy was devoting every hour to her spring plantings. (Witches tend to be passionate about their gardens.)
“Are you girls over your snit with Woolly?” asked Grandy, as the three of them were planting pea squash in Grandy’s organic vegetable patch.
“Fluffy,” Luna corrected. “She’s awful.”
“In what way?” asked Grandy.
“In every way,” said Claire, though at that moment, she couldn’t think of any particular way.
“Silly grudges will never get you your first star,” Grandy warned. “The GSTs are hard enough without soaking yourselves in negative energy.”
The twins looked up from their planting. “GSTs?” they asked together.
“Girls, I’m sure I’ve told you about GSTs. It’s the National Witches’ Bureau one-star test. It’s divided into three parts. You must do something good, something smart, and something tricky.”
Of course, Grandy never had told them about the GSTs. Grandy’s way of teaching was very sneaky, and the girls knew better than to ask. After she went up to the house, they were able to speak privately.
“Grandy must think we’re ready for our stars, or she never would have mentioned th
ose GSTs,” said Luna. “Imagine us finally as one-star witches!”
“We’d get our kittens,” said Claire, who had been wanting her witch-kitten ever since she could remember.
All that day and the next, they waited and hoped Grandy would tell them more about the GSTs. Instead, she made them help her put up her tomato frame, and they spent the rest of the weekend painting a coat of weatherproof sealant on the porch steps.
There came one final false hope when Grandy dropped them off at the train.
“Here, this is something very important!” she said, thrusting a box into Claire’s eager arms.
“A GST study guide?” breathed Luna.
“Our kittens!” exclaimed Claire.
But it turned out to be some purple-print pajamas for their mother.
“Mom means well,” said Jill Bundkin, after the twins got home and she opened the gift, “but these are outrageous.” And she packed the pajamas straight into her MOM—CRAZY STUFF box that she kept under her bed.
“I guess well just have to keep patient,” said Claire. She hadn’t really thought there would be kittens in the box, but it was pretty disappointing to see pajamas.
Meantime, the boycotting began to get difficult.
“I hope you girls will see us next weekend,” said Fluffy when she and their dad dropped off Justin that Sunday.
“We’ll go horseback riding. And I cleaned the grill for a cookout,” said their dad.
“Actually, we volunteered for Philadelphia Cares weekend cleanup project,” said Claire.
“Claire and I need to refresh our commitment to community service,” said Luna, quoting the flier. Their father gave them both a funny look.
“Can’t argue with that,” was all he said.
The cleanup turned out to be a pretty good experience. Their mother and Steve came along, and afterward they went to The Aubergine, where Steve made them fancy cheese omelets.
“Steve is a way lot easier to get along with than Fluff,” Luna decided.
“Well, Fluff was okay, too, until she wanted to marry Dad,” Claire said. “It’s one thing to borrow a mom or dad. It’s another thing to steal them off to Texas.”
Witch Twins Series Page 3