Twist My Charm

by Toni Gallagher

  This is it! Larry has given me the perfect opening. It’s time to do what I came here to do, no matter how tough it’s going to be. “I’m glad he liked it,” I say. I lean over like I’m talking to the little monkey. “Have you ever seen anything like that where you’re from?” Then I look up at Larry. “Where is he from again?”

  “Costa Rica,” he says. “In Central America.”

  “That’s so cool!” I say, looking at the monkey more closely. He’s almost smiling and has a little mischief in his tiny eyes. He really is cute. But more importantly, he’s an extension of who Larry is. Mono will make the Siren Call work, and after that, Larry will like Samantha instead of me!

  As Larry and I empty our gunk into a trash can and return the bowl to Kevin, it’s finally time to make my move. “Do you think I could take him home for the weekend? I’d love to show him to my dad.”

  “I don’t know,” he says, looking uncertain. “Maybe instead I could show Mono to your dad in the parking lot when he picks you up.”

  Darn it! Why is Larry so smart? “Yeah, that would be great…,” I say, stalling for time. “But, you know what, my uncle Arnie is coming to town on Sunday, and he’s the one who would really love it.” I catch myself saying the word love and I stop for a second. But I have to go on. “He’s always wanted to visit Costa Rica because he…” I can’t say the word love again. “He likes monkeys so much.”

  “I don’t know,” Larry says again, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose this battle. For one terrible second, I actually think about stealing Mono. But I can’t. No matter how awkward Larry has made my life for the last couple of days, I couldn’t do that.

  Larry picks up the monkey and looks at it. “I haven’t been away from this monkey in a long time,” he says. “But you know what? I’m a man. I can handle it. You’re my friend, Cleo. I…like you.”

  He took a pause before like. I’m sure he was thinking love, but I’m so glad he didn’t say it.

  Then Larry hands me the monkey.

  “Oh my gosh, thanks so much!” I wrap my hand around Mono’s little body and I can feel all the delicate carving against my fingers. “I can’t believe…I mean, my uncle’s going to be so excited. Thanks, Larry!”

  I’m so happy, I do the dumbest thing possible. With the entire class wandering around, cleaning their desks and washing their bowls, I hug Larry.

  Larry steps back, surprise shooting out of his eyes. I step back even farther. I’m the one who did it, but I’m even more shocked than he is. Across the room, Samantha looks sour. I want to run over to her and explain how this is all a misunderstanding and the only reason I hugged Larry was because he gave me his monkey, which will get him one step closer to loving her instead of me. But I’m not allowed. The universe said so.

  “Cleo and Larry, sittin’ in a tree, just like dates for the Bling Bling would be.” Lisa Lee, walking back to her desk, smirks at her own brilliance.

  I glare at her, but my evil eye only hits the back of her head. What she thinks doesn’t matter. I’ve got my offerings for the universe tomorrow, and I’m ready to go.

  —

  When Dad picks me up, I rush to the car and scrunch down in my seat. I can’t risk Larry running over and telling Dad that he hopes Uncle Arnie likes his monkey. That would take a long time to explain.

  “What’s wrong?” Dad asks.

  “Oh, nothing, just ready to go home!” Luckily, Dad doesn’t ask me anything else; he just shakes his head, mumbling something about kids, and turns up a podcast.

  When we’re safely out of the parking lot, I sit up straighter. That’s when I see something on the dashboard of the car.

  A postcard!

  I reach out and grab it. “Is this from Uncle Arnie?” I ask. But before Dad can even open his mouth, I have my answer.

  SOMEONE IN ALAMOGORDO, NEW MEXICO, LOVES YOU! is what it says on the front. HOME OF THE WORLD’S LARGEST PISTACHIO!

  There’s also a picture of a person looking very small while standing next to…well, I guess it’s the world’s largest pistachio. Not a real one, though; it’s a huge statue, probably thirty feet tall.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure what your uncle’s up to, but it sure looks like he’s having an adventure,” Dad says as I turn over the postcard and read.

  Cool quote for Cleo: a drop of love, no matter how small, can be detected in river, lake, or endless sea! Live for friendship, love & magic!!!!! From ewe-no-hoooooo!

  I figure out Uncle Arnie’s code quickly this time. You Know Who.

  “Do you have any idea what these postcards are about?” Dad asks.

  “No, not really.” That’s the quickest and easiest answer I have. But inside, I know there’s a meaning to each one. Uncle Arnie is trying to tell me something; I just don’t know what!

  One thing I do know is that I am not going to call him again. I learned my lesson. What happened last time, with the Southern lady calling me a ghost child, was just too strange. I can’t imagine what’s going on in Uncle Arnie’s household, and I don’t even want to try!

  Instead I look at one side of the postcard and then the other, again and again before bedtime. I don’t come to any great conclusions while I’m awake, but after I go to sleep and wake up in the morning, there’s an idea in my head. I think it came to me in a dream. Like most dreams I have, it didn’t make much sense, but I definitely remember a giant pistachio. That’s how I know it had something to do with Uncle Arnie’s postcard. I’ve never dreamed of a giant pistachio before…and I doubt I ever will again!

  In the part I remember, I’m standing by the pistachio in Alamogordo, New Mexico, and though there’s not a drop of water in any direction, a red-haired tour guide, maybe Terri, asks if I’ve been to the lake. Then we’re magically transported to a lake surrounded by thick evergreen trees. The guide says it’s a shame the lake is so low. “All it needs is rain. Just a few more drops of water and it’ll be all right.”

  Then the really weird part—a lame spaceship, looking like two dinner plates facing each other, lands on the shore of the lake. Its roof opens, and guess whose head pops out? Pandaroo’s! The Terri look-alike says goodbye, climbs into the spaceship on a rope ladder, and flies off.

  When I open my eyes in the morning, the first thing I do is turn my head and see the love potion bottle across the room from me. It looks more magical than ever as the Saturday sun streams through the window and shines on it.

  Drops! Drops of water in a lake. Drops of love potion. Somehow, all the wackiness in my dream has led me to a perfectly sensible idea.

  I reread the postcard. A drop of love, no matter how small, can be detected in river, lake, or endless sea! A drop of love equals a drop of love potion. That’s got to be what Uncle Arnie means. What else could he mean? I know I promised not to use the potion until I had the instructions, but here they are—finally! They’re not exactly clear or understandable, but neither is Uncle Arnie.

  I don’t need to call him or the strange ladies at his house. I know what to do.

  It’s time to use the potion.

  I unzip my backpack and pull out my offerings for the universe—Larry’s monkey; Dad’s glasses; and finally, a page from the Healthyland play, which I’ve decided to use as the extension of me and Madison. It was during the play that we became friends; it was the place where we realized that no matter how different we seemed, we had things in common.

  I lay these three important items on my dresser—in front of the red bottle. I take a breath and pull off the top. I begin to tip it over and…

  DING DONG!

  Someone’s here for the Siren Call.

  I quickly put the top back on the potion as I hear Dad greeting Madison. By the time I toss the bottle into my backpack, followed by my offerings, Madison’s standing at my bedroom door.

  “Ready?” she asks.

  “Ready!” I smile, but inside I’m a little less than ready. I was just about to use Uncle Arnie’s love potion—without the official instructions. Is
that really the right thing to do, with only his postcard from Alamogordo and my own silly dream as direction? One minute ago I was ready to tip the bottle’s contents all over Larry’s monkey, Dad’s glasses, and the Healthyland page, but now I’m not sure. What should I do?

  The doorbell rings again, so I can’t answer that question yet.

  “Cleo! Are we expecting someone else?” From down the hall, Dad sounds confused.

  Oops. I forgot to tell him about Samantha coming over, but I also forgot something else—that it meant he’d be seeing Paige (ugh!). I run out of my bedroom to meet them at the door. I don’t want anything happening between Dad and Paige that I’m not there to see.

  “Well, this is a nice surprise,” Dad says, too happily. “Cleo didn’t tell me you two were coming over.”

  “Some things never change,” Paige replies, and they both chuckle. It’s a chuckle I don’t like. I don’t want them chuckling. Why couldn’t Paige leave Samantha at the curb and let her come to the door by herself? We’re not children anymore!

  Sam knows the way to my room, so she walks past the adults with a quick “Bye, Mom” and zips down the hall. I don’t leave the doorway. I need to keep watching.

  “Do you want to come in for a few minutes? Have some tea or coffee?” Dad asks.

  Paige has got to say no to this dumb invitation! She’s all dressed up in a tight skirt and blouse; she must have things to do. Plus, who says yes to tea or coffee when it’s eighty degrees outside? I turn and start off toward my room, but I stop when I hear what Paige says next.

  “That’d be nice, Bradley. Do you have any caffeine-free tea?”

  No, no, no, no, no, I think. We only have tea that will keep you up all night. We have extra-amped-up caffeinated tea; it will make you bounce off the walls and the ceiling!

  “Sure, come on in,” Dad says, and Paige strolls toward our kitchen, her high heels click-click-clicking on our hardwood floors.

  Ugh. There’s nothing I can do about it…until we get to the lake and do the LLAMADA DE LA SIRENA. This means I have to leave them alone, whether I like it or not.

  I run to my room, where Madison is sitting on my bed, petting Toby. Toby likes her so much that he didn’t even run and bark when Samantha and her mom rang our doorbell. He’s going to miss Madison when she goes away after the Bling Bling Summer Fling. Three months is a long time. And to a dog, it’ll feel like twenty-one months! Or it could be forever, if Madison chooses Lisa Lee and Kylie Mae over me.

  Samantha’s on the other side of the room, letting Millie the millipede crawl on her hand. I have the feeling she and Madison are both nervous; that’s why they’re playing with my animals instead of talking to each other.

  “Sam, are you going to wish for your mom and my dad to be together?” I ask loudly, without even saying hi.

  Sam jumps a little. “I’m not allowed to tell!” she says, but her face looks truly confused, like she hadn’t even considered the idea. Then she adds, “I thought he liked Terri.”

  “He did. I mean, he does. He still does,” I say. “Okay. Just wanted to make sure. So, your charm is going to be for yourself?”

  Madison looks at me like I should know better. “We’re not supposed to tell, Cleo. It says so in the book.”

  “Sorry,” I say to both of them, though I’m sick of testing my patience and would really, really like to know what both of them are wishing for! “I’m nervous, I guess.”

  “We all are,” Madison says, mature person that she is. “So, are we going to sit around here or are we going to do it?”

  Of course. It’s time to do the Siren Call.

  We sling our backpacks over our shoulders and make our way toward the front door. Dad and Paige are at the kitchen table with mugs in front of them. They’re not sitting too close together, thank goodness, and it doesn’t look like we’ve interrupted anything romantic. It barely looks like they were talking.

  They just don’t look right together. They never did. They don’t look like Terri and Dad used to. After we do the LLAMADA DE LA SIRENA, Terri will be the one drinking decaffeinated tea here with Dad, like it should be.

  “Have fun, girls,” Paige says. We all nod without much of a response.

  “Call and check in if you’re gone longer than an hour,” Dad says. I shout for Toby, but Dad says we don’t need to take him, since he wants to jog around the lake later anyway.

  “Oh, you jog?” asks Paige. Maybe I’m imagining it, but she sounds like she’s impressed, like the next thing she’s going to do is squeeze his biceps and tell him what nice muscles he has. She’d better not! He has no muscles at all!

  I take Madison and Sam across the street. We walk on the dirt path until we reach the meadow that leads all the way to the bank of the lake. It’s warm out and the sun is shining, so people are all over the place. A large group of ladies is taking a yoga class, while families and friends are having picnics. Even the people who are by themselves, reading books or snoozing, look like they’re having a good time. All of them are too busy to care about three girls by the edge of the lake.

  We sit on the ground and open our backpacks. Madison pulls out a ziplock bag filled with shells she took from the vase in her house’s entryway. I start looking through them right away. I don’t know if it’s true, but I like to think that shells are like snowflakes and fingerprints, with no two being alike. How could they be? The water and sand and air affect each one a little bit differently, so some look chipped and some look perfect—just like people. “Why’d you bring so many?” I ask.

  “Well, if we need to make holes in them to put them on the string, I figured some of them might break.”

  “Good thinking,” Sam says. “Let me get my things….” Her voice trails off as she digs in her backpack. Then she pops up holding two items for making holes in shells—a small pair of sharp scissors and something that looks like a teeny, tiny screwdriver.

  My only item to bring was the string. That was easy because my dad has junk drawers filled with old computer cords, rolls of tape, random stamps, and other things he’ll never miss. I throw the wad of string on the grass between us. Madison and Sam look at me like I just barfed up a big hair ball.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I thought—” Madison starts.

  “I expected a ball of string,” Sam says over her. “Not a tangled-up mess.”

  “You expect my house to have a nice, neat ball of string?”

  Madison and Sam laugh; they’ve both been there enough to understand. But now that we’ve contributed our items, it’s time to get started. One by one, we each manage to pull out strings long enough to make necklaces; then we pick shells and poke holes in them. Madison was right; a few of them crack and break. I’m making three necklaces, so I have to slow down and be more careful. Eventually I get the hang of it. Then I remember that I want the necklaces to fall off soon, so I take Sam’s scissors and scrape the sharp blade against the edges of my strings to fray them a little.

  “Ooh, good idea!” Sam says. It feels nice, getting a compliment from her after all this time. “Let me have the scissors when you’re done.”

  Once she and Madison have thinned out their necklace strings too, we walk to the edge of the water to dip our shells in. That part is easy, except for the tips of my sneakers getting wet. It’s the part that comes next—deciding what to sing—that isn’t easy at all. Of course it’ll be a Ryder Landry love song, but which one? Sam suggests “Love Monsoon” (“Love is a monsoon, a typhoon, it takes you over and spins you around!”), but Madison doesn’t think we should sing that next to a body of water, and I have to agree. Madison votes for “You and Me on a Boat in the Sea,” another water-themed love song. I love that one too, but when I make my suggestion, Madison and Sam both realize there is no other choice.

  “Only One.”

  What else could it be?

  We sing it happily to the world. We’re Landers and we want everyone to know. “You don’t want just anyone, you only want you
r only one…”

  Sam raises her arms into the air and sings louder, so we do it too. “The one who always stuns, the one who never runs, the one who’s there for fun…”

  We might not have the best pitch, but we’re making it up with power. It’s a beautiful day, the LA air is semi-fresh, and for this little moment, life is almost as awesome as a Ryder Landry love song. We finish loud and proud: “The one who will be by your side forever, the one who will turn on you never, never ever, she’s your Onnnnnly Onnnnnne!”

  When we turn away from the lake, the ladies from the yoga class are staring at us. “Namaste!” Sam shouts to them. We learned that word in Janet the Recreational Wellness teacher’s Spiritual Growth class, where we do things like yoga and drumming and meditation—the stuff my dad calls “New Age mumbo jumbo.” Madison and I put our hands in a prayer position in front of our hearts and shout “Namaste” too. The ladies should know this word, but they just look at us strangely, then go back to their downward facing dog yoga pose.

  Madison, Sam, and I take turns helping each other put on our necklaces. Samantha ties mine too tight at first, but she loosens it when I let out a little “ow.” We all agree that the string is slightly scratchy, but as necklaces, they actually look pretty good. I’m sure Ryder would like them too; according to Zip! Pow! magazine, he likes a girl who “revels in her uniqueness.”

  With our song sung and our necklaces on, it’s time for our offerings. We settle back down on the ground and go through our backpacks. One by one, I pull out my items: Dad’s glasses, the page from Healthyland, and Larry’s monkey.

  But there’s one more thing in my backpack the other girls don’t know about. The love potion.

  My hand wraps around the edges of the glass bottle, edges that are sharp and smooth at the same time.

  Should I use it?

  And if I don’t use it now, when will I?

  Trying not to be too obvious, I turn my back, just a little, from Madison and Samantha. With my hand still in my backpack, I pull the top off the bottle. There’s a small POP, but to me it sounds like an explosion. I glance behind me, but they haven’t heard the noise.