Spell Check

by Julie Wright

  I got out of bed, knowing that closing my eyes and trying to force sleep would be entirely useless and would only serve to frustrate me. My whole body felt fully awake—fully ready for action.

  So I went to my computer and checked emails. The one from Kristin had the subject line: HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  I clicked on it to open.

  Ally,

  I tried texting you, but you’re not answering so I figured your phone is either lost, out of battery, or your mom took it away because you didn’t do chores.

  Good news: Nathan asked me out.

  Bad news: The cheerleaders=still sick. They’ve cancelled all our practices and decided to quarantine the rest of us. I won’t be in school tomorrow. I’m worried, but everyone keeps saying this won’t affect grades and that I can get my work and do home-study until they’re sure I’m not carrying a contagion.

  Worse news: I can’t go out with Nathan because I’m under quarantine. I’m officially freaking out. Call me ASAP!!! How many ways can you say nightmare?!?!?

  Kris

  Oh great. My best friend was under quarantine, and her love life was being destroyed. “You didn’t do this,” I told myself. “It was a solar flare. You didn’t do this.”

  Cinders cast a critical green eye my direction.

  “What?” I asked the cat. “You never talk to yourself in the middle of the night?”

  Cinders blinked. I paced the floor for several minutes, feeling restless and cooped up. Finally, with a grunt, I grabbed the cape Grandma Peterson made me and wrapped it around my shoulders. I sneaked down the stairs and out the back door. A little fresh air might help me think. Cinders wound around my legs and made it outside before I closed the door. She sat in the center of the lawn while I walked in slow methodical circles around her. I was glad she’d followed me. The company was definitely appreciated.

  I pulled the cape around me tighter and stared up at the sky. “I’m sorry, Kristin,” I said to the moon. What else was there to say? Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I looked up to my mom’s darkened bedroom window. She looked tired as she trailed into the house after our picnic. It hadn’t relaxed her at all since Robison ended the night with the announcement of Dad being late to pick him up.

  My ring’s opal glinted in the light of the full moon.

  The ring really had been an amazing gift. I wondered if explaining the gift to my mom would soften her up to my dad a little.

  “Probably not.”

  With a sigh, I glanced back up into the forlorn face of the waning full moon. I thought about what Mom said about living in Hawaii if she really had powers. We didn’t need anything fancy like that. I liked our old, little house in our old, little city. If I really had powers, I’d change things, but not anything huge—just small things—small things like putting the pieces of my family puzzle back together again. “It’d be nice if they were together. It’d be nice if they just learned how to deal with each other being in the same room at the same time.”

  Cinders curled her tail around her legs and bobbed her head at me as though offering her encouragement. I smiled at her. “If I really had powers, Cinders, I’d cast a love spell that would bring my parents back together.”

  She stared at me. I smiled wider.

  Why not? Why not cast a spell while standing in my backyard under a full moon while wearing a witch’s cape? Because it’s dumb? Yes. Yes, it is. But it’s not like I was doing anything else during my moment of insomnia. So I went ahead. Cinders was the only witness anyway.

  It took a few moments to come up with a rhyme that sounded like a spell. “Moon and shadow, hear me now, bring together these two, I don’t really care how. A mom and a dad who are living apart, bring them together; heal their stubborn hearts.”

  No zip of lightning or crack of thunder. Nothing. Cinders mewled at me. It almost sounded like she was making fun of me. “I know.” I told her. “Mrs. Schroeder says I suck at poetry too.” I sighed for the fiftieth time that day. “C’mon, Cinders. We’re being stupid. Let’s go back to bed.”

  She mewled again as if to let me know that I was the one who sounded stupid. She’d just been sitting there watching me be stupid.

  I turned to go back to the house and stopped in my tracks. A blonde, willowy woman dressed all in tight, black clothing, stood before me. I made a noise . . . something like eeeyaaah! as I jumped back.

  She smiled. “You’re a strong one,” she said.

  Cinders hissed, but the woman didn’t care.

  “They’ll definitely want you bound. Can’t have that kind of power running unchecked through the world.” She circled me.

  Had I thought her hair was blonde? No. Not that. More like white. Cinders fled to nearby bushes, leaving me alone with the woman. Traitor.

  “They don’t like anyone to have power they don’t control. But you can change the power. You can restore the balance of everything.”

  “Who are you?” My voice trembled. This person scared my toenails off.

  “Just the moon and shadow you were trying to summon,” she whispered. “This power is too much for you, Allyson. It’ll burn you out. Besides . . . you’re a good girl. You like to do the right thing, don’t you?”

  I didn’t answer. My tongue had become lead inside my mouth. It felt like all my muscles stiffened and cracked under her penetrating gaze. She really did seem to be nothing more than moon and shadow.

  “Always the right thing. After the trials; there will be four stones that line the dais of the Troll King. Touch the farthest one on the left and all the troubles caused by this menacing little power will be gone, and you won’t ever have to worry about it again.”

  I wanted to tell her I didn’t feel all that troubled, but my entire body felt like it was becoming more solid—petrifying in the presence of this icy woman.

  She leaned close to me so she could whisper directly into my ear. “You might not feel troubled now, but just you wait. It’s too much to handle. Best you do the right thing, and let it go when the opportunity presents itself.”

  I wanted to flinch away as she read my thoughts.

  She disappeared.

  Did I dream that?

  I spun around, but she really was gone.

  I shivered. It was as if she’d literally frozen me. The thawing out was painful. I pulled my cape tighter around me and ran-stumbled back into the house. Cinders beat me there and sped through before I shut the door and locked it tight behind me. In my room, I crossed my floor to the window and drew the curtains closed. After my heartbeat returned to a less frantic rhythm, I crept back to the window and peeked through a slit in the curtains. Nothing was out there.

  I returned to my bed, tossing and turning, checking the clock every several minutes. The numbers slowly dragged their way forward, but I almost didn’t dare to wish time would move along faster. I didn’t want to challenge any solar flares to try again. 1:57 . . . 1:58 . . . 1:59 . . .

  Chapter Six

  Note to self:

  Sleep is awesome. I should try it sometime.

  I slapped my alarm buzzer hard enough that my clock slid off the edge of my nightstand without falling to the floor because the cord remained plugged into the wall. Thoughts of the woman outside made me shiver. That had to have been a dream. Lack of sleep made me delusional. I staggered out of my room to find my mom standing in the hallway. It couldn’t be helped; I glanced behind her to see if my dad had magically appeared in the night, but she stood alone.

  “Did you say something about missing thirty-two minutes yesterday?” she asked me again as if still trying to reconcile what she’d heard.

  I scratched at my collar bone. “It wasn’t anything important. Is Dad here?”

  She lifted an eyebrow at that. “He better not be.” The look on her face was the look of a woman who felt all kinds of things, except love struck. My dumb spell in the middle of the night did nothing. In some ways, it was a relief. This left me blameless for Lisa and the time shift. It meant the crazy ice princ
ess in my yard probably really was a dream. In other ways, it meant my parents still weren’t back together.

  I shrugged. “I mean, of course he’s not here. Just wondering if he and Robison were doing anything today.”

  “Oh,” she said. “So . . .” She took a deep breath. “Are you okay?” k'12

  “Yeah, Mom. I’m great.” I smiled, showing all my teeth to prove it.

  She shook her head. “Of course you are. Course you are.” She shook her head again. “I just . . .” She squinted at me. “Nothing.” She patted my shoulder and sent me off to get ready for school.

  After getting ready, I had a few extra minutes and called Kristin, who was still under quarantine and not allowed to come to school or go on her date. At least I didn’t have to feel guilty about that. A non-magical girl can’t make the whole cheerleading team sick.

  “I’m miserable, Ally.” Came Kristin’s declaration. She almost sounded like she was sick. I wondered if maybe she had caught whatever it was that ailed the clingers.

  “I know. I’m so sorry.” I had to call her on my mom’s phone since mine was broken. Mom’s phone was one of those old models that didn’t sit right in your hand. I had to readjust several times to be able to hear out of it.

  “I want to go with Nathan so bad this weekend.”

  The longing in her voice was almost a physical entity. I let her rant for several long moments before leaving for school. It felt good to finally let the whole “I can do magic” thought go. It made it so much easier to empathize when not being attacked by guilt.

  I tucked my phone into the pocket of my jeans—determined to find out how much a repair would cost on the way home—slung my bag over my shoulder, and hurried out the door.

  School felt vacant without Kristin, who buffered me from Lisa and the clingers, and more empty still without Lisa and the clingers to be needing protection from. I muddled through the day feeling odd and displaced.

  Jake must have felt displaced too because at lunch, he spent several moments standing there, holding his tray, looking out over the sea of students. He usually sat with Lisa and her crowd. But the guys who usually sat with their group had drifted off to sit with other girls. When Jake’s eyes settled on me, I almost turned away, feeling embarrassed for getting caught staring at him. Instead, I offered over a smile—a smile that hopefully looked inviting.

  He nodded and wound around the other tables to join me.

  Jake Warren set his tray down next to mine and lowered himself onto the seat—next to mine. Jake Warren. Sitting next to me. On purpose and by his own free will and choice!

  “Wicked crazy about that epidemic, huh?” he said.

  “Yeah, crazy.” I looked down, reminding myself not to feel bad, since it obviously wasn’t my fault.

  What else could be said? We picked at our food making small talk about classes and the weather. Gratitude over him not mentioning the tree incident overwhelmed me. I might have died if he’d brought that up again. My mom said that being with guys required common ground. The only thing I had in common with Jake was the tree. No. Surely we had more in common than the tree.

  “So you like chess?” I blurted after several moments.

  His smile brightened. “Yeah. You?”

  “Love it.”

  His smile went from bright to arrogant and disbelieving. “Really? You play chess?”

  “Why is that so hard to believe?” He wasn’t nearly as adorable when he looked smug like that. And why did he have to look so surprised? My ego overtook my feelings of being in love. “Not only do I play, but I’m pretty good.” The challenge in my voice was unmistakable. I had to be stupid. Jake was a champion. He’d kick my butt if he took me up on the challenge in my voice, and then what would he think of me?

  He was giving me that interested look again, almost making me forget to be irritated with him. “We should go out on Friday. We could have a little tournament and see if you’re any good.”

  Yep. All irritation forgotten.

  “Go out? Like a—” The word stuck in my voice box.

  “A date.” He finished for me. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for the answer that I couldn’t seem to shove past my lips.

  Had I been irritated before? Totally and completely forgotten.

  “Yeah.” I said, forcing air up and out of my throat. It sounded wheezy and unnatural, but it was the best my lungs offered. I tried at a smile and hoped it didn’t look manic.

  Jake Warren just asked me out. Jake Warren just asked me out! The guy I’d been crushing on since seventh grade. The guy who was previously impossible to date because Lisa already had her life plan mapped out with him being the groom on her wedding cake. I was torn between two equal, but opposite, feelings: elation and abject terror.

  Lisa was going to do worse than hang me. And yet I continued nodding at Jake—nodding until long after he’d said, “I’ll be at your house at six.” And then he was gone with his tray and his eyes and his smell, and as soon as he was out of sight and earshot, I whooped, tugged my phone out of my pocket, and hit the call icon for Kristin’s phone.

  Only my phone didn’t work.

  The one day where I had earth shattering news, and the phone sat in the palm of my hand—a casualty of Lisa’s Snoddy’s cruelty.

  “Not today,” I said to the phone. “Not now when I have great and terrifying news. I wish you weren’t broken.” I whispered this over the phone like a prayer over a grave and tapped on Kristin’s name softly as though leaving a flower on a tombstone.

  The phone shocked me. An electric arc zipped from the button to my finger, making me pull my hand away and glare at the thing. That was when Kristin’s voice came through the tiny speakers. “Hello? Ally? Are you there?”

  In my surprise, my hands fumbled, but I managed to save it from clattering to the floor. I put it to my ear and said a bewildered, “Kristin?”

  “I thought you said your phone was broken.”

  “It is. It was. But it isn’t . . . I guess.” Impossible that the phone worked.

  “You better be careful. You’re gonna get it taken away if Mr. Bailey sees you using it. So, what’s up?”

  It was lunch, which meant phones were allowed. But her mentioning being careful shook me back to my senses. The reason I wanted to talk to her so much. I got up with the phone wedged between my ear and shoulder, and dumped my tray, hurrying to get out of the lunchroom where I could squeal the way I wanted. “Guess what happened! Oh never mind, you’ll never guess. Jake Warren asked me out on a date! A date! He even used the word, date.” I sighed and leaned against the wall. I’d never really known what a beautiful word date was until that moment. Date. Date. Date.

  “Wow!” Kristin said. “Wow. Really? He said ‘date’?”

  “What if he kisses me?” I asked, letting my mind wander to thoughts of his face, close to mine . . . leaning down . . . .

  “What’ll you do when Lisa finds out?” she asked.

  Jake’s face in my imagination turned into Lisa’s with her green hair and her perfect flawless face boiling over into rage. I shook my head to clear those images out. “She doesn’t own him.” I cast a furtive glance around the hall. Not that Lisa’s name had been said out loud or anything, but if anyone was eavesdropping and told her, she’d have me dropped into a manhole.

  “She doesn’t own him.” Kristin’s echo thrummed with the lie. Lisa may not have been in possession of a deed to Jake Warren, but she owned him outright even so. Everyone knew it—even if he didn’t know it himself. And everyone knew Lisa wasn’t the sort of girl you stole things from.

  “So, are you feeling better?” I asked, changing the subject, not wanting to overthink things. Thinking might make me do something stupid—like not go on my date with Jake Warren.

  “I’m not sick.” Kristin reminded me. “I’m under house arrest. My mom keeps treating me like I’m sick though. She even made soup. I hate soup. The whole house smells like onions and garlic now. Anyway, I better go. If you g
et caught on your phone, you’ll lose it. Have fun on your date. Bye Ally.” The longing in her voice stabbed me with guilt.

  I was going on a date with the guy who’d haunted my dreams for years, and she would have been having the same opportunity with her Nathan if it wasn’t for the sickness.

  The words it’s not my fault were about to parade out of my mouth again, but halted on the word “not.” I looked down at my phone. It worked. It worked because I told it to.

  No. Because I wished it to.

  I let out a little cry of panic and, with a jolt, stuffed it back into my pocket where I wouldn’t have to see it. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about it or about that weird woman in my backyard.

  I thought about my phone through the rest of my classes, up until the final bell rang, and as I walked through the bright halls, down the stairs and out of the school building. Normally, I took the bus to and from school—or Kristin drove us now that she had her license. But today, even though the buses were on time, I walked past them and down the street. Walking helped me think. What had I said while hanging from the tree? When the time changed? When holding the phone? They all involved wishing. Maybe it was some freak birthday wish granter thing that came from blowing out all sixteen of my candles. But I made the wish about Lisa and the clingers well before the birthday cupcake. And there was the creepy lady in my yard to think about too. She told me I had power. And it all seemed to revolve around wishing.

  So, I figured, why not? Why shouldn’t I just try it and see? So instead of fancy spells in bad rhyme, I made a simple out-loud wish—right there on Essex Street.

  “I wish my parents would get back together and learn to get along!” k'12

  Wind rustled dried leaves along the sidewalk towards me. My hair felt as though it were sticking straight out from my head as the current of electricity snapped through the air. Dry lightning flashed above. I felt the hugeness in the movement of electrical current. It was so much bigger than with the phone, or even when hanging from the tree. Whatever had just happened—had just happened big.