Tuesday 18 March
Had an excellent first dress rehearsal for our Fair performance. I am so proud of my class! Their masks are wonderful, and Eleanor and Mitch’s choreography for the dance is fabulous, too. Zinnia was wearing the full Halloween getup: black cloak, pointy hat etc, as worn by no real witch, ever. Quite a relief. Dressed up like that, she seems far less real. Perhaps she’s worked out the ‘hiding in plain sight’ business for herself. She might be more switched-on than I thought.
Speaking of costumes, I’ve only got this week to get my Ophira outfit ready for Fair day. Hopefully Jessamyn will have something I can borrow. I wonder if she’s had any ideas about getting Barnaby back? I’m trying not to be too anxious about him, but it’s hard.
I won’t dwell on Broomstick Lesson 2, except to say that I appear to have improved slightly since yesterday. I did not turn upside down. But I did almost plunge into the muddy pit of a building site.
Wednesday 19 March
I know that Jessamyn loves a good plot twist, but this really sounds like one fantasy too far. She is convinced that MM put the hex on Principal Biggins!
My first reaction when she told me was, Jessamyn, you are off in fairyland. Why would MM hex the principal? With Biggins hiding in his office all day, MM has to do more work than anyone. And she doesn’t seem to have anything against him. In fact, she is the one who is helping him to keep his ‘condition’ a secret.
Jessamyn laughed and said I was ‘as naive as ever’. Wasn’t it obvious that MM was after the principal’s job? Soon enough Principal B will have to resign: he can’t keep hiding in his office forever. And then MM, the loyal vice principal who has been selflessly doing Biggins’s job for months, will be ready to step into his place. Principal Melody Martin. Boss Snake-Eyes. What a horrible thought.
Even if Jessamyn is right – and I’m not totally convinced – it’s not like we have any evidence to prove it. This doesn’t bother Jessamyn though. She says that evidence is for plodding policemen, and that with a bit of imagination, we can make MM reveal her own dirty deeds.
Jessamyn’s plan sounds a bit flimsy to me, but she is positive it will work. During her talk at school, she’ll tell the story of Baldarin’s betrayal, from ElfinFire Book 1 – when Baldarin hexes King Elsifor so that he, Baldarin, can take over the throne. The cursed King ends up confined to the cellars of his castle, because any sunlight, even sunlight reflected off the moon at night, will cause his flesh to crumble to dust. It is weirdly similar to the MM/Biggins situation, actually.
The idea is that I am supposed to watch MM’s face during the story to see how she reacts. Jessamyn is certain that her expression will give her away.
I’m not so sure. MM is clearly a master of self control. I can’t imagine that a story – a bit of ‘fairytale fluff ’, as MM calls it – could rattle her composure. Jessamyn has no such doubts. ‘This is a tried and tested method!’ she said, waving her arms about. ‘William Shakespeare used it in Hamlet! So it’s got to be good. You do know who Shakespeare was, don’t you, Zelda? Only the greatest playwright in the English language! Are you telling me that you can come up with something better than him?’
Um…she does know that Hamlet is just a story, right?
But she’s got a point, I can’t come up with anything better. So I suppose we’ll have to give Big Will’s method a try.
Thursday 20 March
Final dress rehearsal today. It’s looking fabulous. And my costume for Saturday is ready too, all thanks to Mother. I only told her about it on Tuesday night, and she flew straight home to pick up her sewing machine. She wouldn’t let me look until it was finished; I even had to keep my eyes closed when she did the fittings. But today, when I got home from school, there it was, draped across my bed. And it is magnificent.
Mother still insists on doing her sewing the Ordinary way. No magic at all. She spent hours perfecting the pleats and getting the edging just right, without using the tiniest spell to speed up the job. She even did all the beading by hand. Which is amazing, considering how much she loves to laugh at Ordinaries labouring away at simple tasks. But she says she finds it relaxing. A way of smoothing out her mind.
The costume looks like it has leapt straight out of Jessamyn’s pages: a long, draped dress of silver and sea-green panels with trails of glittering beads running along the bodice and down the skirts. And the cape! Like a spider’s web, exactly how Jessamyn wrote it. I wish I could wear it all the time! I gave Mother a huge hug and told her how beautiful it is. She said that it was the perfect outfit for a witch like me. Yes, she actually said that! I am beaming with pride and happiness.
Of course I haven’t told the class who I’m dressing up as. Their guesses did make me wonder, though. The Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz? (Rose’s guess.) A clown? (Thanks very much, Zinnia!) Owen even asked if I was dressing up as Dame Scaryhair from the Bad Ballet books!
Do I really seem that…messy?
Ha. Wait until they see me as Ophira.
Ugh, have to get ready for my broomstick lesson. I’m no Ophira in the air, that’s for sure.
Thursday, 11pm
Can’t get to sleep. Partly because I’m nervous about Jessamyn’s talk tomorrow. And partly from the buzz of my broomstick lesson – in which I performed an actual loop-the-loop! Admittedly I didn’t do it entirely on purpose. I was trying to avoid some power lines (because nobody likes a fried witch) and suddenly I was wheeling up and over and back down again, and then swooping up, shrieking into the wind with a mixture of triumph and terror. Amanita said that it was a perfect loop. Still very rough on the dismount, though: two grazed knees, a big bruise on my left hip, and a whopping dent in the roof of Amanita’s car. Oops. But definite progress. Hooray!
Friday 21 March, 7.30am
Wowee. I know I was pretty impressed with myself on the broom last night, but a loop-the-loop is small change compared to what happened during Incantations this morning. Right now, my kitchen is full – and I mean pouring-out-the-door full – of warm, fluffy cinnamon doughnuts. Hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. Plump and perfect and sparkling with sugar, all heaped up in delicious, cinnamon-scented mountains. The smell! It’s heavenly. Is there anything in the universe that smells better than hot cinnamon doughnuts?
Believe it or not, I made this happen. I don’t know how, but I did. I was trying to transform a jar of lentils into jelly beans, and somehow they turned into all these amazing doughnuts instead. They were shooting out of the top of the jar like popcorn and piling up all over the kitchen. More and more and more of them – they just kept on coming, while Mother and I stood there open-mouthed with amazement. Who knew there were so many lentils in one jar?
They’re really, really good doughnuts, too. Best I’ve ever eaten. Probably the best anyone’s ever eaten. But no matter how delicious doughnuts are, a person can only consume so many of them. Mother and I managed six or seven each, which didn’t even make a tiny crater in Planet Doughnut. Someone has to eat them: by tomorrow they’ll be stodgy and greasy and no good at all. Fortunately, I had a brilliant idea: bring them to school! Can you imagine everyone’s faces when I show up with enough doughnuts for every kid and teacher in the school? Five each! Ten each, if they want!
Nobody needs to know where they came from. I can say that…um…that my cousin has a bakery, and someone cancelled a huge order this morning! Why not?
So I called Briony and begged her to help me take the doughnuts to school in her SUV. It took some begging – you know how she is about her freaky-clean car. I promised that I’d get every last grain of sugar out afterwards, even if I had to get down on my knees and vacuum out the crevices like an Ordinary. She still wasn’t all that keen (sugar, children’s teeth, blah blah blah). But she agreed to help. Phew. She should be here any minute now.
Hooray for me! Not only am I a super-powerful witch, I am also going to be the teacher who gave out free doughnuts to the entire school!
Friday, 8.30am
I
am writing this in the front seat of Briony’s car, with horrible sticky hands and sugar grains grinding through my stockings. Completely gutted. Cannot believe the unfairness of it. We were packed into the car, ready to go – and then Briony went and looked in the rear-view mirror. Without any warning, there was a barrage of popping noises – and every single one of the doughnuts turned back into a lentil. I cannot believe it. I am devastated. I really don’t know how I made the lentils into doughnuts in the first place, and I’m far too upset to try and get them back.
Briony swears on her witch’s honour that she didn’t do anything. But seriously? A dentist? Delivering a carload of doughnuts to a school? Maybe she didn’t mean to, but she must have accidentally bounced a spark off the mirror and reversed the transformation. She might think she’s got total control over her powers, but I bet things slip out sometimes, even for Ms Perfect Pearlywhites. Trying not to be mad at her while she drives me to school.
Bitterly disappointed, though. I’ll be looking around at the children’s faces all day and imagining how it could have been: an entire school blissing out on the best cinnamon doughnuts ever, all thanks to me. Sigh. At least they’ll never know what they missed out on. But I know! Waaahhhh!
Friday, 2.10pm
Sitting in the main hall waiting for Jessamyn’s talk to begin. Feeling all jumpy, with galloping brain and shaky hands. Maybe eating six (seven? eight?) cinnamon sugar bombs for breakfast wasn’t the best idea. I’m hoping that writing will calm my nerves a bit. Bringing my diary to school was a stupid risk to take, though. What was I thinking?? But it’s here now, so the safest thing to do is keep it firmly in my hands. I can pretend to be taking notes or something.
The whole school is quiet and attentive, oblivious to the fact that they just missed out on a doughnut extravaganza, and totally unaware of the witch-catching plot about to be set in motion.
Here we go. MM and Jessamyn walking onto the stage. Lots of applause.
MM is doing her introduction now. All syrupy smiles. She’s really laying on the sugar:
‘…so very lucky to have famous author Jessamyn Lark…’
‘…all huge fans of ElfinFire here at the school…’
‘…they’ve always been my favourite…’
WHAT A LIAR!!!
Favourite??? She hasn’t even read the books! And she hates ‘that fairytale fluff ’! But listen to her: marvellous characters, spellbinding stories…!!!!!!! She can lie and lie and lie without that sappy smile ever leaving her face! How can we possibly catch her out? Shakespeare’s got nothing on that witch!
Okay. Focus now, Zelda. Don’t give up yet. You never know what might happen.
MM’s sitting down. Quite a good view of her face from here. Need to be careful not to stare.
Jessamyn has started. How she began writing ElfinFire. The characters. The Kingdom…
Entire school completely spellbound. MM looks politely interested, that’s all.
And now – here we go! The Elsifor story. This is it! Keep pretending to write. Don’t stare.
DEADLY NIGHTSHADE!!!!
IT WORKED!!!!!!!!!
Jessamyn’s a genius! It happened just like she said it would! She got to the part where Baldarin hexes the King, and right away MM’s expression changed! Her eyes widened, and then her brows came down like she was furious. Her jaw clenched and her top lip started to twitch on one side. She was obviously struggling to get her face under control. And I don’t know if it was a trick of the light, but I’m sure I saw a flash of gold in her eyes!
And now she’s gone. Sneaked out through the side door. Nobody else has noticed a thing; they’re all looking straight ahead, captivated by Jessamyn’s story. I saw it, though, no mistake. Now I know for certain that MM hexed Principal B. But the question is, what am I supposed to do about it?
Friday, 4pm
I had no chance to plan my next move: MM got in first. And she was furious. She must be a Shakespeare fan too, because she twigged right away to Jessamyn’s game, and from there it wasn’t hard to figure out that I was in on it. She cornered me in my classroom after the final bell, stormed in and slammed the door behind her. I attempted an Unflappable Power-Witch expression, but my heart was going like a basket of bats at Full Moon, and my throat was far too tight to speak. I don’t think MM even noticed. She was boiling mad, and ready to do all the talking.
‘Here’s how we’re going to do this, Zelda,’ she said. ‘You don’t mess with me, and I don’t mess with you. You keep my secret; I keep yours.’
What a nerve! As if my secret is anything like hers! I may be a witch, but I haven’t cursed anyone. And I’m not some sort of freaky monster under my skin! I was so angry, the fury eclipsed my fear. I looked her straight in the eyes and said, ‘You need to lift the hex on Biggins.’
MM gave me a withering glare, and hissed, ‘Don’t you meddle in things you know nothing about.’
Then I really let rip. ‘I know all about you! I know about the hex, and I know you’ve got my cat. Stealing another witch’s companion! You’re the lowest kind of witch there is!’
MM’s eyes darted sideways. Just for a fraction of a second, but I definitely saw it. ‘I don’t have your cat,’ she said.
Liar.
‘No deal,’ I said. And I walked out the door without looking back.
Brave, right? Except that now I’m cringing under the covers like a miserable mouse.
What have I done???
Saturday 22 March, 2.15am.
Still can’t sleep. Tried to do some marking to take my mind off things, but can’t concentrate at all. Found Phoebe’s notebook inside her homework folder. She must have left it there by mistake. She’ll be frantic, wondering where it is.
I’m not going to read it, of course.
Saturday, 3am
How can I be so tired and still be awake??
Maybe I should have a quick look at Phoebe’s notebook. She’s been a bit unsettled lately. If she has a real problem, shouldn’t I find out so I can help her?
No. I won’t. I’m not a stickybeak like Barnaby. Anyway, look where being nosey got him.
Saturday, 4am
But what if there’s something about MM in there? Something I need to know? What if there’s something about me?
No! Do. Not. Read. It.
Saturday, 8am
Fair day. Hands shaking from lack of sleep. Sitting here in the kitchen in full Ophira getup, trying not to spill coffee down the front of my dress. Can’t even look at my toast – my throat is so dry, it’s like swallowing bits of pumice stone. What I could really do with is half-a-dozen cinnamon doughnuts.
Mother is clucking around me like it’s my first day of school again. First day as a five-year-old, I mean, not as a teacher. She’s already taken a zillion photos (‘Grizelda! Stop grimacing and smile!’), and she’s been adjusting my dress and tidying my hair all morning. Any minute now she’ll lick her thumb and clean my face with it.
Said that I had a stomach ache and should maybe stay home. Mother told me not to be such a sook. ‘That MM creature won’t dare do anything in front of hundreds of Ordinaries. Really, Grizelda, what could possibly happen at a school fair?’
Monday 24 March, 11am
I am in hospital! I’m covered in bruises and scrapes, I’ve got a black eye and a cut lip, and my left elbow is broken. My entire body hurts, but especially that arm. I got a huge shock when I woke up and saw it encased in a gigantic cast. The doctor told me I had an operation yesterday: they put in a big metal screw to fix the broken bone. I had no idea. In fact I have no memory of the last two days at all. That’s because of the concussion, apparently.
When I woke up, Mother was sitting in the chair by my bed. She’s still here, humming away to herself and stitching together the shreds of my Ophira costume. The dress is in even worse shape than I am. At least my arm is still attached to my body.
Mother brought in my pyjamas and toiletries, a huge box of Tweezels and a bag of cherries. Plus all
the books that were on my bedside table at home, including my diary. She says that if I start writing, it might loosen up my memory a bit.
All that the nurses could tell us was that I’d had an accident at the Fair, and somehow fallen from the top of the giant slide. How??? Why??? What could I possibly have been doing on the slide? Well, apart from making a giant fool of myself, obviously. I’m trying to picture myself doing it, but I just can’t.
I am getting some little flashes of the Fair, though. The smell of the sausage sizzle. A clamour of kids around the Chocolate Throw. The jumping castle! Yes – it was shaped like a haunted house, with inflatable turrets and bats bobbing on top. I remember that. And I remember seeing Ben and Adeline and the rest of the library crew. We got together for photos in our ElfinFire costumes. Ben was Hoskin the Ogre. And Adeline was a forest elf, with her entire face painted green. And – wait – I can see another green face. It’s Maggie from the front office, dressed as one of the wicked witches from The Wizard of Oz. She’s standing with Selina – a very tall Dorothy, complete with little white dog.
Now a flash of kids from my class, all cheering and laughing while Amelia rides the bucking bronco machine. Someone doing cartwheels. Helium balloons shaped like dogs and cats and ducks, with funny dangling feet. Laughter. Music. I can feel it all happening around me, but I can only glimpse scraps and flashes, like I’m seeing it from a spinning carnival ride. If I could just slow it down—
Whew. Nurse just gave me an injection. It seems to have stopped the spinning. But now I’m getting a lurching feeling in my tummy, like I’m falling through the air. I feel like I need to grip onto the bed, but since both my arms are occupied, I’m bracing my feet on the mattress and pushing myself back into the pillows. It’s still happening, though, like…like a broomstick swoop. A really fast one. Which is impossible. There is no way I could have been riding a broom at the Fair. I didn’t have a broom with me, for starters. Is it the giant slide? Am I up on the slide??
The Cursed First Term of Zelda Stitch. Bad Teacher. Worse Witch. Page 7