The Wish Stealers

by Trivas, Tracy

  Together they walked to the rooftop. The cool breeze brushed against Griffin’s cheeks. She was relieved they couldn’t see Mr. Schmidt’s house and its creepy shadows from the roof. Thankfully the platform faced only their backyard and the deep night sky beyond it.

  “Here, Griff, look through that telescope and tell me what you see.”

  Griffin looked through the telescope and saw Polaris, the planet Jupiter, the constellation Sagittarius, and the swirling spiral galaxies M81 and M82.

  “I see stars that must be millions of light-years away,” said Griffin.

  “In one of those distant and deep parts of space is a hidden and beautiful constellation called Caelum. It can only be seen at the equator or in the southern hemisphere, where your dad and I gazed at it on our honeymoon. We want to name the new baby Caelum if he’s a boy and Caela is she’s a girl.”

  “What does Caelum mean?” asked Griffin.

  “It’s a constellation named in 1754 by my favorite astronomer, Lacaille. Caelum means ‘the heavens.’ Its second meaning is ‘les burins,’ which is an old instrument for engraving on copper.”

  “Engraving on copper? Like a penny!” said Griffin.

  “A burin probably helped engrave the models for the first pennies.”

  “Wow!” said Griffin as she drank up the night sky filled with millions of bright stars. I can’t wait to meet Caelum or Caela!” Then she had an idea. “Mom, wait here!”

  Griffin ran downstairs and lunged under her bed. She took the label off the “baby” penny so her mom wouldn’t become suspicious. Bounding back up the stairs, Griffin held out the penny to her mother. It glowed wildly under the canopy of stars. “This is a lucky penny I found.”

  “Really?” said her mom.

  “Yeah,” said Griffin. “Do you want to make a wish about the baby?” she asked.

  “Okay,” said her mom, smiling. She put the penny in her left palm, closing her fingers tightly around it. In her right hand she held Griffin’s hand.

  A meteor whizzed by overhead.

  “A shooting star!” exclaimed Griffin. At that exact moment her mother made a wish and gently placed the penny down on the railing.

  The door to the roof swung open. “Hello, everybody. What are you doing up here?” asked Griffin’s dad.

  “Hi, Dad! Mom and I just saw a shooting star!” said Griffin.

  “You know what Mom says about shooting stars, right?”

  “They’re lucky!” said Griffin, feeling better for the first time in a while.

  “Griffin gave me a lucky penny to make a wish for the baby,” said her mom to her dad. Then Dr. Penshine scooped the penny off the railing. It was wet, now covered in dew. It sparkled even more like a star that had landed.

  “Mom, we need to save this and give it to the baby when she or he is born.”

  “Good idea. Where should we keep it?” asked Dr. Penshine.

  “I know,” said Griffin, taking the penny from her mom. “Good night!”

  “Good night, Griff,” called her parents, smiling.

  Griffin raced downstairs, but before turning into her own bedroom, she tiptoed into the guest room that had been converted into a nursery. The penny felt warm in her palm. Very carefully she placed the penny in a keepsake box on a high shelf next to the crib. The “baby” penny glowed.

  Starlight, star bright,

  first star I see tonight.

  I wish I may, I wish I might,

  have the wish I wish tonight.

  Chapter

  22

  Louder!” shouted Garrett over the cacophony of banging drums inside his garage. Griffin forced a smile. Her mom had dropped her off after school and had gone to run an errand. “In thirty minutes I’ll be back to pick you both up,” she’d said.

  “Louder, guys!” Garrett yelled again as he pounded on his drums.

  Covering her ears was what Griffin really wanted to do. She had a splitting headache from thinking about Mariah’s gifts. What did Mariah use that creepy yarn for? Why did she have that bloodred ring? Mariah’s antique black mirror gave Griffin the chills. Did it reflect only the dark side of things? Did it show the sadness people felt when their stolen wishes never came true? The song ended, but no one finished at the same time.

  “Hey, Griffin,” called Jason Scott. “Garrett wants our band to play for science night. We usually charge for our gigs, but because this is Garrett’s science project, we’re going to play for free.”

  “Thanks,” said Griffin, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  “What do you think, Griffin?” asked Garrett as he stepped out of the open garage onto the driveway, where Griffin stood. Griffin didn’t know what to say.

  “Cool.” She gulped. “It’s really nice your mom lets you have the garage to practice in.”

  “It’s mostly our hangout. We just practice here when we feel like it,” said Garrett.

  “Oh,” said Griffin.

  Garrett looked at Griffin funny. “Hey, where’s your bass? Did you bring it?” he asked.

  Griffin was so afraid that she wouldn’t be able to play because of the curse that she hadn’t brought her bass guitar. “I totally forgot it, but I have some video of me playing bass this summer. I was in a band at the music conservatory where I take lessons.”

  “Cool,” said the guys, passing around Griffin’s phone and watching her play her bass guitar.

  “You’re amazing!” said Todd Wherry, who played electric keyboard.

  “Cool stuff,” said Ethan Bergwein, the lead singer.

  “Thanks,” said Griffin. Inside she shrank. Maybe I’m not a good player anymore because of the curse. I wish to become an amazing bass guitarist sirened through her head.

  “Hey, guys. Let’s break for today,” Garrett called.

  Griffin looked at her watch. They had five minutes until her mom picked them up.

  “We’ve been jamming hard. Let’s meet the same time next Tuesday. I gotta go work on that stupid science project.”

  All the guys started high-fiving one another. Two of the boys besides Garrett went to their school: the lead singer, Ethan, and the guitar player, Jason, who Griffin recognized from classes at Dadesville’s music center. Todd Wherry and Kurt Keene, who were packing their instruments, went to the rival middle school.

  “Mom! We’re done!” screamed Garrett to the dark upstairs windows.

  Nothing happened.

  “She must be asleep.” Garrett shrugged.

  Jason’s older brother, whose car was at the end of the driveway, blasted the horn. “Come on, kiddies, jump in the Batmobile!” he yelled. The four boys lugged their instruments down the driveway.

  “Later,” they called.

  “Later,” said Garrett, banging some final beats and fills on his drums. “I’m just gonna put some of these speakers away.”

  “Okay,” said Griffin, who sat down at a broken piano in the front of the garage.

  “Do you think my band is bad?” Garrett said.

  “No,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

  “Come on, tell me the truth. You think my band stinks, don’t you?” said Garrett.

  “No, I think you guys could be amazing—”

  “Could be? Like we’re not or something?” he said, sounding defensive.

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that—”

  “You sound like Mr. Blackwell,” he said with a sharp tone.

  “No, I don’t! He’s a Wish Stealer!” Griffin blurted out.

  “A what?” said Garrett, staring at her.

  “He just makes fun of people for trying,” said Griffin.

  “Whatever,” said Garrett, turning away from her. He beat loudly on his drum.

  “What’s going on in here?” asked Garrett’s mom, sticking her head into the garage. She looked very tired.

  “Nothing,” said Garrett.

  “Hi. You must be Griffin,” said Garrett’s mom.

  “Hi, Mrs. Forester,” Griffin said, standing up from the pia
no bench to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Were you about to play the piano?” she asked.

  “No. I play bass guitar,” she said.

  Mrs. Forester had the same dancing, kind blue eyes as Garrett.

  “Mom, my band’s going to play a concert for science night.”

  “I’ll make sure to get out of work early so that I can be there.”

  “But Griffin said my band stinks. I don’t go to the music center like she does.”

  Griffin’s mouth flew open. “Garrett! I didn’t say that!”

  “I would love to send you to the music center, Garrett.” The saddest sigh deflated out of Mrs. Forester. “We just can’t afford it right now. I better let you kids do your work. Nice to meet you, Griffin.” She headed inside.

  Just then Dr. Penshine honked the car horn. Griffin swiveled her head toward the car and then back to Garrett.

  “I don’t feel like working on our project tonight,” said Garrett angrily.

  “I have more stuff to do on my part,” said Griffin, her eyes now moist. “I guess I’ll just work on that.”

  “Yeah,” he said, not looking at her.

  “Bye, Garrett,” she said.

  But Garrett had already bolted inside his house and slammed the door.

  People’s dreams are fragile—be gentle.

  Chapter

  23

  Griffin slid into the passenger seat of her mom’s car. “How’d it go?” asked her mom.

  “Fine,” said Griffin, staring out the window.

  “How’s his band?” asked her mom.

  “Fine,” she said unconvincingly.

  “So they weren’t very good?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged.

  “I see,” said Griffin’s mom. “Where’s Garrett? Is he coming with us?”

  “He’s not coming,” said Griffin.

  “Why not?” she said.

  “Garrett’s mad at me. Garrett’s mom said they couldn’t afford to send Garrett to the music center for lessons, he thinks I think his band stinks, and now he doesn’t want to come to the library,” said Griffin in a single breath. “I really am a Wish Stealer.” She bit down on her trembling lip.

  “What’s a Wish Stealer?”

  “Someone who makes people afraid to try. That’s what Grandma told me.”

  “I see,” said her mom as she backed the car out of the driveway. “I have to agree with Grandma. Wish Stealers are awful, the worst kind of people.”

  Griffin stared at her mom. Tears filled her eyes. Does my own mom think I’m awful?

  The car stopped at the stop sign at the end of Garrett’s street. “But you are far from a Wish Stealer.”

  Griffin couldn’t look her mom in the eyes. How little her mom knew.

  A group of pigeons congested the road, and the car slowed again. “Remember when we saw that beautiful duck on Fern Lake?” asked her mom.

  “Yes,” said Griffin as she watched the pigeons flap to the curb.

  “It seems like a duck is just gliding along like magic. But do you know that underwater it’s kicking and paddling, moving its little webbed feet so fast, working hard to move through that water?”

  “Yeah,” said Griffin.

  “I think that’s how wishes work. Like when astronauts walked on the moon, someone made a wish and dared to dream something impossible at the time. But then someone dared to work for the wish. I’m sorry Garrett is sensitive about his band right now, but with a little practice I bet they could be great.”

  Griffin stared out the window.

  “What timing!” said Dr. Penshine, and she pulled into the ice cream store’s parking lot and got the best parking spot.

  “Mom, what are we doing?” asked Griffin.

  “The very first way to approach a problem is to relax and get a scoop of rocky road ice cream!” said her mom, laughing.

  “What?” said Griffin, laughing too.

  “I just remembered I got an e-mail that the music center is holding open auditions for reduced rates for really good students. I can forward the e-mail to Garrett’s mom if you like. I have her e-mail from the school directory.”

  “Okay,” said Griffin.

  “There are always a couple ways to solve a problem.”

  Griffin laughed. “Mom, after our ice cream cones, can you drop me off at the library?”

  “Sure. How about I pick you up in an hour? Is that enough time?”

  “Thanks,” said Griffin. Her mom’s words ran through Griffin’s mind. There are always a couple ways to solve a problem. But the new idea she had just might get her into big trouble.

  Even magic has a secret.

  Chapter

  24

  Fingers steady on the keyboard, Griffin typed in her new password, WISH.

  Kids were allowed thirty minutes on library computers for research. Griffin clicked on Google. She ripped a scrap of paper out of her notebook. Two names were written on it:

  Florence L. Daniellson: puppy.

  Garrett Forester: a dad.

  She entered the first name. Florence L. Daniellson, Topeka, Kansas.

  A recent obituary popped up:

  August 4

  Busby, Elmer Bingham. Ninety-two, Topeka, Kansas. Survivors: Wife: Florence L. Daniellson Busby. Children: Lorraine, Henry, and Paul. Grandchildren: Lucy and Roger. Funeral home address …

  Could this be the same Florence L. Daniellson who’d wished for a puppy long ago? August 4 was only a few weeks ago. There was a good chance that Florence L. Daniellson Busby was still alive … and about the right age for a wish if she were close to her husband’s age. Griffin copied down the funeral home address.

  Next she typed in the words “Forester, Alaska, fisherman.” An Alaskan newspaper came up: the Nome Nugget, the oldest Alaskan newspaper. Griffin clicked on the link. The article was titled BIG FISH! A grainy picture of a man standing proudly next to a giant fish filled the screen. Under the picture a caption read:

  Brian Patterson Forester, of Nome, Alaska, catches a 59 lb. 52 inch king salmon! Looks like this former landlubber from Topeka, Kansas, has really learned to fish in the rough waters of Alaska! Brian said he is dedicating this catch to his son, Garrett.

  Griffin looked up the address for the Nome Nugget and wrote that down too.

  “Griffin!” someone called.

  Rotating her seat, she spotted Garrett walking toward her. Quickly she closed her notebook and the window on the computer screen. “Garrett! What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to get some more alchemy books, and my mom said she won’t let me get a dog if I didn’t come,” he said.

  “Garrett, I’m really sorry if I hurt your feelings about your band. I didn’t mean to at all,” said Griffin.

  He said nothing.

  “I didn’t know you wanted a dog. That’s so cool,” said Griffin.

  “Whatever,” he said. They walked to a long table, sat on opposite ends, and worked on their project in silence. Garrett did not look at Griffin once.

  Garrett and Griffin walked outside at five thirty.

  Beautiful violin music floated through the dark courtyard in front of the library. “That music is so incredible,” said Griffin, spotting the lonely, sad musician again.

  “Yeah, I bet he practices a lot,” shot Garrett, skimming a rock down the sidewalk.

  The large town clock rang, drowning out the musician’s Tchaikovsky violin concerto. The man stopped playing, hung his head, and waited for the clock to cease chiming.

  Griffin wiggled off her left shoe. Lately she’d been keeping a few pennies in each shoe just in case.

  “Not another penny!” said Garrett, watching her.

  But Griffin just stared straight ahead at the musician, flipping the penny in her hand. “Excuse me, sir?” called Griffin to the violinist.

  The musician looked up, surprised, like no one had ever called him “sir” in his whole life. “Your violin sounds amazing. What’s your name?”
Griffin asked.

  “Stanley,” he said.

  “I’m Griffin.”

  “Hi,” he said.

  He plucked the gloomiest notes on his violin. “Stick to your studies, kids, so you don’t end up like me!” This time he played an angry chord. His violin strings screeched in pain as he sawed against them with his bow.

  “Stanley, I have a lucky penny for you to wish on,” said Griffin, opening her hand.

  Stanley stopped his violin and looked at the shiny penny in Griffin’s palm. “That is very kind of you,” he said, bowing his head. “But I’m gonna need more than a penny after quitting my job and pouring my life savings into a dream!”

  “You can’t give up,” said Griffin. “Here, make a wish. Just try!”

  “Not everyone has a perfect life like you, Griffin,” said Garrett.

  “Believe me, my life is far from perfect,” said Griffin sadly.

  For the first time Garrett’s and Griffin’s eyes met. Tears brimmed in Griffin’s eyes.

  Stanley gently took the penny from her. Taped across it was the word “success.”

  “Success!” he read, and started to laugh bitterly. “To make a living doing what I love would be the greatest success to me.”

  Holding the penny tightly, he closed his eyes as if seeing a strange and faraway dream. Then he shouted, “I wish to be a success!” He rocketed the penny high up in the dark sky. Upward it streaked like a fiery comet. At that same instant the night sprinklers burst on. The blazing penny, already in the air, became engulfed in one of the water jets and began dancing. It bobbed gloriously on the shooting water.

  Craning their necks, the three of them gasped as the penny pranced high in the air, sparkling light everywhere, like fluorescent fireworks. “Wow!” said Stanley, smiling for the first time. He grabbed his bow and began playing the most beautiful music, the Paganini Etudes, to accompany the shooting water.