by Ahmet Zappa
First step: find her Wisher.
Clover flicked her Star-Zap for directions. She followed the route, going around and around the building, walking down ramps separating floors marked F, E, D, C, B, and then A. Hmmm, the letters must be for levels, she thought, glad she hadn’t entered the observation in the journal. That would have been slightly embarrassing.
Also, she noted the lined spaces were for Wishling vehicles. She recognized them from looking through the Starland telescope. But they seemed much more primitive up close, with clunky shapes and actual wheels. As Clover went lower and lower, more and more spaces were filled.
Beep! A vehicle was coming right at her, honking like a glowgoose! Clover jumped out of the way just in time. These Wishlings should slow down, she thought, moving to the side, where she thought it would be safer.
She checked the directions again and found a door marked PARKING GARAGE EXIT. That’s where she was! A parking garage. A sign below it read MALL ENTRANCE.
Mall, she said to herself. It sounded familiar. She’d learned about it in Wishling Ways…something about a place where teenagers “hung out” and shopped for friends. Basically, that was what she’d be doing. Making friends with your Wisher was the first step to finding out the wish. So the location seemed promising!
Stepping inside the mall, Clover was immediately surrounded by people. There were some teenagers. But the crowd was really a mix of all ages: some adults pushing little wheeled vehicles with wee Wishlings inside, Wishling kids holding their parents’ hands, older Wishlings walking in pairs. They all held bags and rushed here and there with determined looks on their faces.
She peered around the Wishlings and realized store after store lined the walls. Clothing stores, shoe stores, toy stores, many with signs that read BACK TO SCHOOL SALE! So this must be the end of the Wishling warm weather break, Clover thought. And teenagers didn’t shop for friends there; they shopped with them! Along with everyone else.
A mall was really just a star–shopping center—only not half as stellar. Yes, there were moving steps in the middle, but it was nothing like the Cosmic Transporter. Plus there was no Choose-Your-Sparkle Shop or Groom-Your-Glowfur Corner. Not quite as useful a place—she’d have to tell the other Star Darlings.
Still, it was interesting. The mall was one long rectangle. It had an open center space with moving steps taking people from level to level and a very nice glass roof that let in the afternoon sun.
Clover leaned over a railing so the rays hit her face, then she moved on. Wait! Were those carts in the middle of the floor? Vehicles with wheels? She jumped out of the way, expecting them to come at her like the car in the garage. Then she realized the carts weren’t actually moving. They were really mini-stores that specialized in very odd items.
One, with a sign reading HEADCASES, had only strange little statues with giant heads that bobbed when you touched them. Another sold miniature scenes in clear rounded plastic containers. She shook one that showed Wishlings wearing heavy coats, scarves, and hats, and tiny snowflakes fell on their heads. That made sense. But when she shook a beach scene, snow fell, too!
Suddenly, Clover noticed something familiar: Starland-like creatures!
Creatures that resembled glions and galliopes were grouped in a circle, just waiting to be petted. Clover rushed over, looking for starapples or some other snack to feed them. But when she got closer, she discovered they weren’t real. In fact, they were part of a ride. Kids clambered on top of the fake creatures, which then moved around and around on a platform to sprightly music. Interesting.
Next Clover wandered into a hat store just for fun. She caught sight of her plain Wishworld self in a mirror. Even though she’d been expecting to see dull skin and Wishling-colored hair, it was still a bit of a starprise. Of course, she felt glad she could pass for any old mall visitor. And she did have a bright purple streak left in her hair, an occurrence many Star Darlings had already mentioned. So it could have been worse.
“Oh!” Clover cried as she spied a floppy purple hat. Maybe she could wear that instead of the cap! She plunked it on her head and checked out her reflection. It did look good. But then a sales Wishling walked over and asked, “Would you like to see more in that style?”
“No, ah, ah, thank you!” Clover said, hurrying out. How could she forget she had no Wishworld currency?
Not only that, but she’d been wasting valuable time shopping! You’re already way behind schedule, Clover scolded herself. Now get moving!
Not even glancing at any other shop windows, concentrating only on her directions, Clover went up two levels and found herself following signs to the “Food Court.”
Another oddity, thought Clover. Hadn’t she learned that Wishlings played sports on courts, too? Did they eat meals surrounded by balls and nets and whatever other equipment they used? No, she realized as she stepped into the bustling space. There were only tables and small takeout restaurants. Most had food words in their names: Bongo Burger; Pizza, Pizza, Pizza; and The Smoothie Shack. Clover felt proud that she recognized most of the Wishling food names. But wait—there was one called The Sushi Spot. On Starland, Sushi was the most popular singer on the planet! Wait until she told Leona!
Again, Clover glanced at her directions. They ended there, at the entrance to the food court. So her Wisher must be at one of the tables or waiting in line. How could she possibly find her in this crowded place?
She took a few steps, moving closer to The Sushi Spot for lack of a better plan. Suddenly, she felt a slight vibration on her head. The Wish Pendant barrette! Good thing the cap was covering it. Otherwise, everyone would notice its glow.
Clover wove through the tables haphazardly at first, changing directions on the strength of the Wish Pendant’s vibration. As she neared one table with a daughter and mother, the barrette pulsed so strongly that Clover stopped suddenly. The Wishling girl, staring with narrowed eyes at her mom, must be Clover’s Wisher.
A couple was just leaving the next table, so Clover slipped into an empty chair. Immediately, her nose wrinkled in distaste. The Wishlings hadn’t cleared their trays, which were covered with crumpled napkins and leftover food! And unlike on Starland, the mess would stay right there unless someone cleared it away. That most certainly won’t be me! Clover thought.
She turned to her Wisher just as the girl, upset over something her mother had said, tossed her head. Clover grinned happily. The girl had a purplish streak in her hair—not quite as bright and shiny as Clover’s, but it was a streak nonetheless, standing out in her long blond hair. They had something in common!
“I am not happy with you, Ruby Marshall,” the mom was saying. “How could you go and dye your hair like that without asking permission? And purple of all colors. It looks ridiculous!”
Humph, thought Clover, a little insulted. Of course, it was different there. She knew that Wishlings had to add chemicals to their hair to make it look Starland-normal. How sad for them, Clover thought. And apparently, the procedure was frowned upon by adult Wishlings—at least when their children were involved.
“Stop it, Mom,” the girl answered. “You are so old-fashioned. No one thinks a purple streak is a big deal anymore. Look around! Lots of kids do it!”
Clover took off her cap, expecting the mom to do what her daughter asked—look around. Once she spotted Clover, she’d realize her daughter was right.
But the mom just shook her head, glaring at the girl. The girl glared back, not noticing Clover’s hair, either.
This was Clover’s big chance to meet her Wisher. She needed to act quickly. She had to get the girl’s attention so she’d see Clover’s streak, realize they had lots in common, and want to be her friend.
Reining in her repulsion, Clover picked up the heavy food trays and carried them to the garbage container right next to the Wishlings. She made a big show of pushing against the swinging door to empty the tray.
The girl looked up. “Hey!” she called out. “I like your hair! See, Mom? I t
old you purple hair is not a big deal at all!”
Clover smiled at the mom. The mom frowned back.
“Did you use Splatter?” the girl asked excitedly. She held up a long lock of her streaked hair and examined it closely. “Yours is better,” she said decidedly. “I definitely missed a few spots.”
“You have to leave it on longer than the directions say,” Clover said, as if she knew what she was talking about.
“Did your mom get mad when you did it?” the girl asked eagerly.
Her mom finally gazed up, meeting Clover’s eyes. She didn’t look angry now, just sad. She had a kind, open face—very similar to the girl’s—with big brown eyes.
Clover shrugged, trying to be noncommittal.
“No, really. Is she angry about your purple hair?” the girl insisted.
“No,” Clover said truthfully, stopping short of saying her mother was actually thrilled. She and her mom had the same shade.
“See, Mom? I’m the only one who gets treated like a baby!”
The girl stared at Clover, taking in her outfit with approval. “And are you allowed to pick out your own clothes?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m not,” the girl said quickly, giving her mom a significant look. “My mother chooses all my clothes. Like I said, she treats me like a baby.”
At this, the mom finally spoke. “Ruby Marshall! I only want you to wear clothes that are appropriate! You know I hate leggings and short tops that don’t adequately cover your posterior!” She looked at her watch and stood up. “It’s almost time for your appointment. I’m heading to the ladies’ room and I’ll be back in a minute.”
With her mom gone, the girl deflated slightly. “My purple streaks are history. My mom’s taking me to Snippy’s to dye it back.” She sighed loudly. “I wish she’d let me grow up!”
Clover felt a tingle run down her spine and her mouth fell open in starprise. She’d barely said two words to the girl, but she’d already discovered her wish. How easy could a mission be? Thank the stars, she thought, since time was of the essence!
Clover sat in the mom’s seat and smiled. “I know I’m lucky. My parents talk to me like a…a person! Not a wee Star—I mean, little kid.”
Clover couldn’t even imagine her mom babying her. She’d always been treated like an important member of the circus family, with jobs and responsibilities. Even before she could walk, she had been crawling around to retrieve ozziefruit for juggling acts and sitting on top of spinning chairs. Once she could talk, she offered opinions about starwire performances. Poor Ruby Marshall. She really needed Clover’s help.
“My name is Clover,” she said in a friendly way.
“I’m Ruby.”
Ruby slid her tray toward Clover. “Here, want some french fries?”
Clover realized she was hungry. She followed Ruby’s lead and dipped the long objects into some red sauce. A smile spread across her face. They were delicious! Before she knew it, she had finished them all.
“Sorry,” she said.
“No problem,” said Ruby. “I’m kind of too nervous to eat, anyway.”
“How come?” asked Clover.
“School is starting soon,” said Ruby, clearly embarrassed.
“Where do you go to school?” Clover asked, knowing exactly what she’d say when Ruby answered.
“Westlake Prep.” Ruby’s eyes flashed—with excitement or nervousness, Clover couldn’t tell. “It’ll be my first year.”
“Me too!” Clover said quickly. “I’ll be a first year at Westlake, too!”
“That’s so sick,” said Ruby excitedly.
Clover frowned for a moment, then remembered that the word had two meanings, at least to young Wishlings.
“Yeah, sick!” she replied, feeling slightly silly.
“It’s going to be so different,” Ruby went on. “The school is really big and there’ll be so many people I don’t know! It would have been nice to have an older brother or sister who was going there, too, to show me around.”
In Clover’s circus family, there was always someone older to help you with a new act and always someone younger who needed your help. “Well, at least you can do that for your younger siblings,” she suggested.
Ruby shook her head. “Uh-uh. I’m an only child. I loved it when I was little. I had my parents’ total attention. But now it’s too much attention! My mom watches over me like a hawk.”
Clover didn’t know what a hawk was. But she guessed it was some sort of security system.
“I’m back,” Ruby’s mom—Mrs. Marshall—announced. “Time to go.”
“M-o-o-o-o-m,” Ruby said, stretching out the word. “Clover and I are starting Westlake together. We have to talk!”
“Well, I’m sorry, girls.” And Ruby’s mom did look sorry, Clover thought. “Why don’t you make plans to get together before school starts?”
That was nice of Mrs. Marshall, given that she didn’t approve of Clover’s hair, and possibly Clover herself.
“Yes!” said Ruby. “Hey, want to shop for school supplies together? We can meet right here tomorrow. I’ll bring the list.”
Supplies for school? On Starland, students didn’t really have supplies. They used their Star-Zaps for just about everything. Of course, here students had cell phones, which could only handle a bare minimum of tasks but still served Wishlings in a similar way. “What do we need besides our phones?” Clover asked.
“I know, right?” said Ruby. She laughed, as if Clover was being funny on purpose. Ruby insisted on exchanging numbers, just in case—so Clover input Ruby’s number and called her, not entirely sure it would ring. Luckily, it did. But they promised to meet in the same spot first thing in the morning.
“Come on, Ruby!” Mrs. Marshall called, already outside the food court.
Clover waved good-bye. What should she do next? She had to fill the time between then and the following morning. She looked longingly at her backpack, where the invisible tent—complete with comfy bed—was just waiting to be used. Then she looked at her Countdown Clock. So much time had passed! Did she even have time for rest?
Yes, she decided. Realistically, she couldn’t do any wish granting until she saw Ruby in the morning. She couldn’t follow her now. Ruby would think she was weird. And what would her mom say? She’d tell Ruby she couldn’t hang out with the strange stalking girl. Clover had to stay on everyone’s good side for her mission to work!
That settled it. She was going to find an empty space somewhere, set up her tent, rest, and use the time to come up with a plan to help Ruby. The top floor of the parking garage would be a good empty place, she decided.
She hurried through the mall, retracing her steps to the garage: out the exit, up the ramps, straight to the top.
“Ugh,” she groaned. That level was filled, too, and drivers were circling, looking for spots, zipping quickly up and down rows, tires screeching around turns. She certainly couldn’t set up an invisible tent there. Wishling drivers were crazy! It wouldn’t do at all.
But she didn’t want to go far. Maybe she could find an out-of-the-way place where cars weren’t allowed. She searched around corners and found a large empty space with a sign that read NO PARKING. EMERGENCY USE ONLY.
Well, this will do, Clover thought. As far as she was concerned, she was in an emergency situation. She walked to the far end of the spot, leaned against the wall, and unzipped the main compartment of her backpack.
It was empty.
“What? There’s no tent in the backpack?” Clover searched through the side pockets and the big front one, where she’d packed the shooting star. They were all empty, too, aside from the star. She turned the backpack upside down and shook it. Nothing. Had Vega forgotten her invisible tent on Wishworld, or were they one-time use only? In any event, it didn’t matter. Clover was out of luck.
Why, oh, why hadn’t she used mind control on Ruby’s mom when she’d had the chance? She could be staying in a cozy, warm house, not in a drafty g
arage without a tent!
So what next? If she hurried to the hair salon…What was it called? Flippy’s? Tippy’s? Snippy’s! That was it! If she left right away, she could still catch Ruby and her mom.
But the mall was big. Very big. Clover made several wrong turns before she discovered that the mall had a map. Finally, she located Snippy’s, full of salon chairs and mirrors, and walked inside.
Someone was sweeping hair from the floor. Yuck! Another worker was talking into a device that looked a bit like a cell phone but had a cord that plugged into the wall. Stylists were snipping, washing, drying, and brushing their customers’ hair. Clover peered around. She could only see the customers’ backs. But one had long, straight blond hair. Ruby!
“Excuse me,” she said, using the correct phrase, as she stepped between Ruby and the facing mirror. Only, when she was face to face with the blonde, she realized that it wasn’t Ruby. It was a woman she’d never seen before—with big thick glasses and a wide round face, her mouth falling open in surprise.
Clover did the first thing that crossed her mind. “Here, I think you dropped something,” she said. But when she bent down, the only thing she found was a long lock of blond hair. She handed it to the confused woman. Then she raced outside.
She kept running until she saw an empty bench, where she sat down to think. Okay, she’d missed Ruby. So she could forget about staying with her. The night stretched in front of Clover, and she had nowhere to go and nothing to do. What time does the mall close, anyway? she wondered.
Just then a young woman walked over and handed Clover a flyer. She marveled at the feel of the paper, about to crumple it into a ball, just for fun. But a big word on top caught her attention: FREE!
Clover read on.
FOCUS GROUP: FREE MOVIE SCREENING! BE THE FIRST TO SEE THE NOT-YET-RELEASED FILM VAMPIRE’S KISS. FILL OUT SHORT QUESTIONNAIRE AFTERWARDS. FREE SNACKS PROVIDED!
Clover checked a big clock on the mall wall and realized the movie would be starting shortly. Perfect, she thought.