Princesses, Inc.

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Princesses, Inc. Page 7

by Mari Mancusi


  “Aye, aye, Captain.” He gave me a salute, then ran back into his yard and disappeared through his front door. I watched him go, then turned back to the kids.

  “Guys!” I cried, beckoning them over. “Circle round. We need to talk.”

  The kids ran over to me. They didn’t look happy. “I haven’t found any treasure,” Tommy complained.

  “That’s because there isn’t any,” Izzy sniffed.

  Out of the corner of my eye I caught Brody leaving the house again, out the back door this time, tiptoeing across his yard and into Bella’s. He was carrying a large sack—presumably the so-called treasure.

  Skyler started to turn around. I clapped my hands to get her attention. No matter what I had to do, I couldn’t let them see Brody. That would ruin the game altogether.

  “There is a good reason you haven’t found the treasure,” I declared.

  “What’s that?” demanded Skyler.

  “Because the treasure is . . .” I trailed off, my mind racing. I watched Brody slip behind a tree. Disappearing from sight. “INVISIBLE!” I cried.

  Three of the four children screwed up their faces. Only Bella looked as if she still held out some belief that this could possibly be true.

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Izzy muttered.

  “How are we supposed to find the treasure if it’s invisible?” Skyler demanded.

  “I know! I know!” Bella cried. She turned to me, her eyes shining. “You can do the magic, right? You can make it un-invisible?”

  I nodded solemnly, as if that were obvious. Thank you, Bella. She’d definitely earned an extra scoop of ice cream after this was all over. “Actually, I can. But I’ll need all of your help to do it. Are you willing to help me?”

  “Yes!” Bella cried.

  The others didn’t look quite so sure, but to their credit they didn’t say no outright. Reaching into my magic bag, while keeping an eye on Brody, who was still traversing the yard, bag in his hand like some pirate Santa Claus, I pulled out my magic snow powder. This was something I’d discovered from watching a Collin Prince Frozen parody video a year ago, and it was pretty much my coolest trick. Hopefully it would work under pressure.

  “Okay,” I said. “Who wants to hold the magic powder?”

  They all did, so I poured a little in each kid’s hand. Then I reached into my bag again, pulled out my vial of water, and cupped it in my hand so they couldn’t see it. A magician was all about misdirection, as I’d learned from Collin, the master magician.

  “Okay. Close your eyes,” I said. “On the count of three I want you to yell, ‘Treasure appear!’ Okay?”

  “Okay!” they agreed, with varying levels of enthusiasm.

  I drew in a breath. Here went nothing. I waited until all their eyes were closed, then counted them down as I got my water ready. “Three, two . . . one!”

  “TREASURE APPEAR!”

  I dripped water into each of their hands.

  “Okay! Open your eyes!”

  They did, all four of them shrieking in delight as the tiny drops of magical powder in their hands expanded into entire fistfuls of flaky white snow. I smiled to myself. Score another for Princess Awesome.

  “Okay!” I said. “It appears the spell has worked. Now all the treasure should be revealed. Go forth and search again.”

  I waved my arms in the air, sending them back to the yard, hoping Brody had had enough time to do his thing. I watched as they spread out again, still excited about the magic powder, which in hindsight I realized could have been a treasure all its own.

  “You guys! I found something!” Tommy shrieked a moment later. “Come here!”

  Yes! I mentally raised my fist in triumph. Go, Brody!

  I ran over to see what he had found. He held up what looked like a tennis ball, but painted gold. Perhaps very recently painted gold, in fact, judging from the gold paint now all over Tommy’s hand. Thankfully, Tommy didn’t seem to notice that.

  “Wow, that’s amazing, Tommy!” I cried. “Quick, put it in my bag.” I held out the bag and he threw it in. “I wonder if there’s any more—”

  “Look, look!” squealed Izzy, interrupting in a voice filled with excitement. Everyone ran to where she was standing. She held up an old bronze statue of a bucking bronco the size of her arm. “Do you think this is treasure too?” she asked, looking quite pleased with herself.

  “Oh, definitely,” I agreed, stifling a grin as I took the horse from her and placed it in my bag. These were definitely interesting treasures, that was for sure. “Let’s keep looking.”

  Now the kids were truly into the game, running all over the yard looking for more treasure. Over the next ten minutes they acquired a crystal vase, a pewter spoon, a macramé owl pot holder, and a plastic light-up version of Darth Vader’s lightsaber. It was the most unusual and yet most awesome treasure trove a pirate could ever hope to have.

  From across the yard, Skyler suddenly screamed in delight. “Come here! Come here!” she cried, waving us over.

  We joined her under an old oak tree, right on the border of where Brody’s yard met Bella’s. There, nestled under a bush, was a small wooden chest.

  “A real pirate chest!” she announced proudly.

  I grinned. Brody deserved more than an extra scoop of ice cream. Maybe even an extra large hot fudge sundae.

  “All right,” I declared. “This is it. The last treasure. Let’s go ahead and open it and then we can all—”

  “ARRR!”

  A sudden cry echoed through the yard, causing the kids to shriek in alarm. They scrambled behind me, Tommy clinging to my leg, Izzy and Skyler to my arms—shaking like crazy.

  The voice came again, seeming to ring through the air. “ARRRR! Who goes there?”

  I stifled a giggle as Brody jumped out from behind the tree, nearly losing his balance as his foot caught on an upturned root. He was dressed in pirate gear from head to toe—a bandana around his head and an eye patch over his left eye. Raising his pirate sword in the air, he winked at me with his non-eye-patched eye and then turned to the kids.

  “And what might ye be doing with me treasure?” he demanded, giving my little crew a suspicious once-over.

  “Nothing!” Skyler cried, looking petrified. “We were just . . . looking at it!”

  “We weren’t going to steal it!” Izzy protested. “Really.”

  Pirate Brody narrowed his eyes. “Then what be in yer pocket, me laddie?” he demanded, pointing at Tommy’s pocket. Which, I realized, was glowing bright purple—one of the glow sticks he’d found in the yard. Tommy swallowed hard, fear clear in his eyes, and I did my best not to crack up laughing.

  “I was just . . . keeping it safe for you?” he tried.

  “A likely story,” Brody snarled. “I think you tried to steal it from me. And now you must pay the pirate price.” He paused. “Unless there be a champion amongst you who will save the day . . .”

  He turned to me, shooting me an encouraging look. I drew in a breath and stepped forward.

  “Nay, it is you, Dread Pirate Brody, who has stolen from me. This treasure has been in my family for generations. And now I will finally reclaim it.”

  “Over my dead body,” scoffed Brody.

  “If you like.” I stepped forward, reaching down to Bella and retrieving my bag of tricks. After rummaging around for a second, I pulled out my Elsa wand. Not exactly a sharp blade, but it would have to do for now. “Prepare to meet your maker!”

  I waved the wand. Brody raised his sword, his eyes flashing with mischief. He lunged forward, but I easily parried, knocking him back. We went back and forth like this a few times, with the kids all watching with anxious eyes.

  “Use your magic!” Bella cried out from the sidelines. “Princess Awesome! USE YOUR MAGIC!”

  I gave Brody a knowing look, then held up my free hand and whooshed it in his direction. “Stand down, evil pirate!” I cried.

  Brody staggered backward, clutching his chest
with his hands, as if he really had been hit by a mighty force. I had to admit: The guy made a very good pirate.

  “NO!” he screamed—a little overdramatically in my opinion, but the kids were totally eating it up, so who was I to judge? “You are a vile sorceress! How dare you use your magic on me!”

  “There’s a lot more where that came from,” I declared. “And if you do not yield, I will be forced to use it.”

  Brody whimpered, dropping low before us, bowing in submission. “Please,” he warbled. “I’ll be a good pirate. You can have your treasure back. Just . . . don’t use your magic!”

  I glanced over at the kids. “What do you think?” I asked. “Should we let him go?”

  Even as I asked, I wondered what I was going to do if they demanded actual blood. But thankfully, this crew was too concerned about their treasures to worry much about true justice being served, and they decided on mercy.

  “Very well,” I said, giving Brody a stern look. “We will let you go. As long as you promise to be a good pirate from now on. And never terrorize anyone from this day forward.”

  “I promise,” he said, looking relieved. He staggered to his feet.

  “Now go!” I commanded. “And let us never see your face here again!”

  And with that, he took off, running into the next yard and disappearing from sight. I watched him go—a small smile playing at my lips. We had managed to pull it off . . . together.

  Or almost, at least. I still had to bring this big bad princess party home.

  I turned to the kids, a triumphant smile on my face. “It appears evil has been vanquished,” I announced. “So how about we round up the rest of the treasure and celebrate our victory—with ice cream?”

  12

  AFTER THAT, THE KIDS ALL settled in the living room, looking over their treasure. I told them they could each keep one piece—or I could buy it all back from them in exchange for an extra scoop of ice cream—a deal they were all happy to accept. They were playing happily when the other babysitters finally emerged from upstairs. They stared at the kids, then at me.

  “So, uh, how it’d go?” Skyler’s babysitter asked.

  “Best. Babysitter. Ever!” Skyler cried. “Do we have to leave?”

  “Yes. Your mother will be back any second now. And you know she doesn’t want you out of the house.”

  I raised an eyebrow, an idea coming to me. I walked over to the babysitter and held out my hand. She looked down at it, then up at me. “What?” she asked in an annoyed voice.

  “That’ll be ten bucks,” I said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh. I just figured, since I was doing your job all afternoon, I should probably get paid for it.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You were so not doing my job. We just happened to come over to visit.”

  “Oh. Okay. That’s fair. If you don’t want to pay me, then I can swing by Skyler’s house on the way home. I’m sure her mother will hook me up once I explain my services to her.”

  The babysitter’s eyes widened. She reached into her pocket and shoved a crinkled ten in my direction. Bingo.

  “Whatever,” she muttered. “Come on, Skyler. Let’s go.” She dragged the girl out of the house. Skyler gave her a nasty look, then ran back to me.

  “Thank you!” she cried. “You’re the best babysitter ever!”

  I gave her a hug. “Tell your mom,” I whispered. “And maybe next time she’ll hire me instead.”

  She grinned. “I will.”

  The babysitter rolled her eyes and grabbed Skyler, shoving her out the door. A moment later the next babysitter came down the stairs. I smiled and held out my hand.

  In the end I collected forty extra bucks (with the final ten coming from Trina, who didn’t want me to tell her mother), and after dinner Bella and I spent the rest of the time together, playing Candyland. By the time her father came home, the little girl was asleep on the couch, thumb securely locked in her mouth.

  He raised an eyebrow. “How did you manage to get the perpetual-motion machine to crash?” he teased.

  I smiled. “A princess never tells.”

  He paid me—double what I had asked for—and I headed out the door, practically dancing. A few hours of work and I’d scored almost a hundred dollars. We were well on our way to Comicpalooza. My friends were going to completely freak.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the all-powerful party princess herself.”

  I looked up, surprised to see Brody, watching me from his front porch. He leaped over the railing and headed in my direction. His pirate gear was gone, and he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that totally brought out his eyes. Not that I was noticing stuff like that.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling at him. “I suppose you want your treasure back.”

  “Aye, lassie. Hand it over before me mother comes home and thinks someone robbed the house.” He laughed, taking the bag from me and pulling out the artifacts. “Not bad for last-minute scrounging though, right?”

  “Amazing. The gold-painted tennis ball was a particularly special touch. I can’t believe no one wanted to bring it home with them.”

  “Yeah, that one might have gone over better if it had time to dry.” He snorted. “I was originally going to do a bunch of those until I realized how messy it would be.”

  “Hey! Beggars can’t be choosers,” I assured him with a smile. “And trust me, the kids didn’t even notice. They were just excited to find any treasure out there in the backyard.”

  “Find treasure and fight a real pirate prince. Not bad for one afternoon.”

  “Yes. Thanks to you.”

  He waved me off. “It was an honor and a privilege to serve, m’lady,” he quipped. “And just think. You're one step closer.”

  Now I gave him a puzzled look. What?

  “You know,” he said. “The writing contest. That’s why you’re doing this, right? So you can get to Comicpalooza and launch your writing career?”

  “Oh. Right.” I nodded quickly. Probably too quickly. “Of course. I didn’t . . . Yeah. My writing career. One step closer.”

  “Have you started your story yet?” he asked. “ ’Cause I’d be happy to read it if you wanted me to. I’m no writer—but my dad always says it helps him to have people read his stuff before he passes it in to his editor. They can catch stuff he can’t see.” He shrugged. “But . . . I would understand if you wanted to keep it private, too,” he amended.

  I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. He wanted to read my writing? But I barely had any writing. I mean, at least not for the contest. I’d written some pages, but thrown most of them away. Which meant the only thing I did have was the fan fiction stuff for my friends about Collin Prince. And I couldn’t show him that. That would be way too embarrassing. Especially with his dad being a real author and all. He probably read good stuff all the time.

  But . . . he wanted to read my writing! And maybe he’d even show his dad, and his dad could give me pointers. Pointers that might help me actually win this contest. Get the scholarship to the writing camp.

  “No, that would be . . . great,” I managed to squeak out. “But, uh, I’m still working on it, you know? When I’m done, I’ll totally let you read it, though. If the offer still stands.”

  He nodded solemnly. “It’ll still stand,” he agreed. “As long as your offer still stands to go play PlayStation at your house sometime. I’m pretty much dying of withdrawal at this point.”

  I grinned. “Well, we certainly can’t let that happen. After all, if you’re dead, who will edit my story?”

  “Ouch!” he cried, holding his hands over his chest as if I had wounded him. “Right to the heart.”

  I giggled. “Don’t worry. The offer still stands,” I assured him. “In fact, if you want we could go play right now.”

  13

  “SO WHERE’S THE NEXT PART?” Sarah demanded, pouncing on me the second I sat down at the lunch table the next day, nearly upsetting my tray. “Tell me yo
u brought a new part.”

  Uh-oh. I bit my lower lip. I knew there was something I forgot to do. After the babysitting gig yesterday and then having Brody come over to play PlayStation and then doing my homework, I’d forgotten all about the Collin Prince chapter I’d promised her.

  Okay, fine. I hadn’t completely forgotten. It was just that hanging around Brody had made me want to work on my other story—the one I was going to enter in the Comicpalooza contest. I needed that story to be especially good, seeing as it would be read and judged by actual editors, versus just my Collin Prince–crazy friends, who would pretty much love garbage so long as Collin Prince was the garbage man. Which meant it was going to take a lot longer to write.

  I had planned to wake up early this morning to bang out a quick chapter to bring to school—to get Sarah off my back. But I’d been so exhausted from the babysitting adventure, I’d hit snooze three times on my alarm. And it wasn’t until now that I remembered why I’d set it for so early in the first place.

  Should I confess about having Brody come over? She’d freak out if I did. After all, I wasn’t the type of girl who normally invited real-life boys over to my house. And boy crazy Sarah might decide to make more of it than it actually was. Like a real date. Me having a new boyfriend. (Or any boyfriend for that matter.)

  And what if she told someone about it and it ended up getting back to Brody? And what if Brody didn’t actually like me in that way—and just thought of me as a fellow gamer—a cool friend, nothing more? At that point, I would pretty much have to die of humiliation.

  Clearly it was better to keep the whole Brody thing on the down low for now. . . .

  I realized Sarah was still waiting for an answer.

  “Sorry. I didn’t have time to work on it,” I told her apologetically. “I had that babysitting job, remember? You’re welcome to keep going on your end, though, if you want. I’ll catch up wherever you leave off.”

  She frowned. “Hailey, I’ve done three chapters in a row now, and you haven’t done any,” she whined. “I can’t write the whole thing myself.”

  “You mean like I was doing before you decided to jump in?” I shot back before I could stop myself.

 

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