by Steph Matuku
The crackling magic sputtered and died. Whetū breathed a sigh of relief and sank back onto the cushions.
“Don’t you think he deserves it?” said the magician. “He almost killed the King himself! And you too, Whetū.”
“No. Please. I couldn’t bear it. If you hurt him, then you’re no better than he is.”
“She’s right.” Miss Pumbleduff looked at Mum. “You have a very wise daughter.”
Mum hugged Whetū close. “Yes, I do.”
Miss Pumbleduff picked up the hatbox. “Then I shall take him away where he won’t be able to do any more damage to anyone. He needs to remember what it’s like to be a proper rabbit, instead of a mischief maker. What do you think?”
The magician nodded. “Very well. I trust your decision.”
Miss Pumbleduff gave Whetū a little wave with red-tipped fingernails. “Goodbye, darling. See you in the dressing room again one day.”
“Where to, Miss Pumbleduff?” asked the door boy in the old-fashioned cap.
“Okunoshima,” said Miss Pumbleduff.
There was a renewed thumping from inside the hatbox. “No! No! You can’t make me!” The furious wail was cut off as the door closed firmly behind Miss Pumbleduff.
“Okunoshima?” asked Whetū curiously.
“It’s an island off the coast of Japan,” said the magician. “Also known as Rabbit Island. Absolutely jam-packed with Japanese rabbits who won’t understand a word of his nonsense. Errant will hate it. It’s perfect.”
“Then everything has worked out.” Whetū rose, this time with the help of her mother’s steadying arm. “You finished the concert and made enough money to pay off the debts. The animals have new jobs, which will help the farm earn its keep. And me and Mum, well …” She looked at her mother and smiled ruefully. “We’ve still got the car, at least.”
Her mother squeezed her gently.
The magician frowned, but this time it wasn’t as frightening. “What on earth do you mean, you’ve still got your car?”
“Errant said you’d be giving up magic shows. So we thought … I thought we’d probably have to find somewhere else to live.”
The magician shook his head. “For goodness sake, Whetū. You really have to stop listening to silly old rabbits.”
Whetū gazed at him, so full of hope she hardly dared breathe. And she could feel a tingling coming back into her fingertips, little familiar sparkles running up and down her palms and into her arms and down into her tummy.
“You mean we can stay?”
“My dear girl, this was the best performance I’ve ever had. And it’s all because of you. You’ve helped to bring the magic back. For that, I thank you. And of course you can stay, for as long as you like. I’d be honoured.”
He made a low bow.
“Well, that’s good,” Whetū said. “Because the bull has his first date on Wednesday and he’s going to need all the support he can get.”
The magician linked arms with Whetū and her mother, and all three walked out of the door, out of the dressing room, and out of this story.