“Kind of,” I say. “Where I live, we know your whole story from beginning to end.”
Lottie nervously bites her thumbnail. “I can’t believe it didn’t work,” she mutters. “My mother is going to freak.”
Huh? “Who’s your mother?”
“Carlotta!” she replies. “The thirteenth fairy!”
Sleeping Beauty gasps. “The thirteenth fairy!”
What? “Lottie’s mother is the thirteenth fairy?” I guess she isn’t the villain herself, but daughter of a villain is close enough.
“Yes,” Lottie says. “I’m Carlotta the Second. Lottie.”
“But you’re so old! How old is your mother?” Jonah asks. “A hundred?”
“No,” Lottie titters, and nibbles her pinkie nail. “She’s seventy. Since her retirement, I’ve taken over her wand and all her fairy responsibilities. Including you.” She nods toward Sleeping Beauty. “This is terrible. Absolutely awful. I have to tell my mother what happened at once. She’s going to be very upset.” With a poof of sparkle, Lottie disappears.
“Wait!” Sleeping Beauty calls out, but it’s too late. “Now what? Why didn’t the spell work?”
I look at Robin and then back at Sleeping Beauty. Robin is asleep. Sleeping Beauty is awake. I clear my throat.
“I’m sorry, but I think my friend Robin accidentally used up your spell.”
“Who?” Sleeping Beauty asks, but then she notices Robin lying on the bed with her eyes shut. “Is that Robin? Why is she sleeping? Who is she? And who are you people? Can someone explain what’s happening?”
“I’m Abby,” I say, standing up straight. “And this is my little brother, Jonah. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hey, there,” Jonah says. “Is your real name Sleeping Beauty?”
“No,” she says. She sits down on the bench and slumps. “It’s Princess Brianna.”
Jonah nods. “Can I call you Bri?”
“Sure,” Brianna says. “I like it. It sounds almost …”
“Like a cheese,” I say. A delicious, fancy cheese — but still a cheese.
“Like a name from the future,” she finishes, brightening. “Brianna is such an old-fashioned name. And I am all about the future.”
“Maybe you should try the spindle thing again,” Jonah says.
Princess Brianna pokes her pinkie against the needle and winces. “This finger is a lot more sensitive than the other one. And it still didn’t work!” She glares at Robin. “Did that girl really use up my spell?”
“Seems that way,” I say sheepishly.
Her shoulders sag. “Does that mean she’s going to marry my prince, too?”
“Oh, um, no,” I say. “No way. She can’t stay asleep for a hundred years. She needs to wake up. Soon. We need to get home. Her mother is picking her up at ten.”
I glance down at my watch. Then I realize I am not wearing it. Argh. I took it off before bed. I was not expecting to go kingdom-hopping tonight.
“Never mind. What time is it here?” I ask.
“It’s just after lunch,” Bri says. “Around twelve forty-five.”
Time back home is always slower than time in fairy tale kingdoms. When we were in the kingdom of Mustard, every hour at home was a day in fairy tale land.
Hmm. Maybe a hundred years here isn’t long at all. Maybe a year here is only a day at home. Or maybe a year here is only a minute at home. So a hundred years will pass in a hundred minutes. That’s less than two hours.
“If only we knew what time it is back home,” I sigh. I gaze out the skylight and into the clouds. It’s getting gray out there.
“It’s a quarter to one back home,” Jonah says.
I look down at him. “How do you know that?”
He waves his electronic game in front of me. “This tells the time.”
“Wait. You’ve had that with you all along?”
He nods. “It was in my pajama pants between my tummy and the elastic band.”
I grab the game and see that it does indeed tell the time. Twelve forty-seven, to be exact. “You’re lucky you didn’t lose it.”
He snorts. “You’re lucky I know what time it is.”
I shove the game back at him. “If it’s twelve forty-seven during the day here and twelve forty-seven in the middle of the night there, then, even though there is a twelve-hour time difference, time is passing at the same speed here as it is back home.”
“So a hundred years here is a hundred years there,” Jonah says.
My stomach sinks. “What are we going to do?” I turn to Robin and shake her by the arm. “WAKE UP, ROBIN, WAKE UP!”
Instead of waking up, she lets out a tiny snore.
What now?
It’s raining. HARD.
The water is loudly click-click-clicking against the skylight, and it’s hard for me to think with so much noise.
Bri hasn’t moved from the bench. She’s spinning the wheel with her foot. “I can’t believe this happened.”
“I can’t believe this happened again,” I mutter. “But here’s what I don’t understand: If Robin activated the spell, shouldn’t all of us in the palace have fallen asleep? That’s what was supposed to happen.”
“It was?” Bri asks. She stops spinning. “My family, too?”
I nod.
“Oh, that would have been so great,” she says sadly. “They would have been with me when I woke up.”
Jonah bounces on his exposed toes. “Imagine Lottie had put us all to sleep for a hundred years. Mom and Dad would have freaked out!”
I turn to Bri. “Doesn’t the idea of sleeping for a hundred years scare you?”
Bri looks up at the skylight wistfully. “No. I’ve been waiting for this day since I was born. This” — she motions around her — “is me biding my time. I’m waiting for my real life to start. And now, because your friend stole my curse, it never will.” She sighs. “I’ll never get to see all the things that haven’t been invented yet. Like ways to get around without horses. Or a boat that flies. Or faster ways to send messages to your friends.”
“Cars, planes, and e-mail,” Jonah says, and squats down on the ground.
“I don’t know what those first two are,” Bri says. “But we do have mail without the E. My friend Tom’s father is the mailman. He delivers messages across the land.”
“Cell phones get messages to friends, too,” I say.
Bri frowns. “What’s a cell phone?”
“Something I don’t have,” I say with regret. “So I guess that means this place has no modern stuff?”
“If by modern you mean cars, planes, elevators, and cell phones, then no,” Bri says. “Where are you from exactly?” Her eyes widen. “It really does sound like the future.”
“Kind of,” I say. “But not exactly.”
“If I can’t get to my future, maybe I’ll go back with you,” she says eagerly. “Do you have any princes where you live?”
“Not in Smithville,” I tell her.
“Never mind, then,” she says, spinning the wheel again.
The rain bangs harder against the skylight.
“Speaking of Smithville,” I say, “we need to find a mirror or some sort of magical object that will take us back.”
Bri pokes her thumb against the needle. “I’d suggest the spindle, but its magic appears to have been used up.”
“True,” I say. “We only have just over nine hours to figure it out, too. Robin’s being picked up at ten.”
“At least it’s the weekend,” Jonah says. “Otherwise Mom and Dad would wake us up at seven.”
“Yeah, but they’ll probably start wondering where we are if they don’t see or hear any of us by nine thirty.” A drop of water lands on my head. I look up. Terrific. Now the ceiling is leaking.
“If we find a portal home, we could always carry Robin back asleep,” Jonah says.
Another water drop lands on my head and I wipe it away with the arm of my pajama top. “And then what? Won’t her pa
rents freak out when they can’t wake her up? They’ll think she’s in a coma. No, we have to figure out how to wake up Robin here. Plus, find a magic portal. Plus, put Bri to sleep.” I’m feeling overwhelmed. Another drop lands on my head, so I stand up. The bed creaks. “Let’s start with waking Robin up and putting Bri to sleep.”
“But how are we going to do that?” Bri asks.
“I don’t know. What puts people to sleep?”
“Car rides,” Jonah says. “I always fall asleep in the car.”
“You drool, too.”
“Do not!”
“Do so. Anyway, cars are not helpful.”
“We should move Robin to the floor,” Jonah says. “So Bri can lie down. Anyway, Robin looks way too cozy.”
He has a point. Robin does look a little too cozy. Even on the burlap sack. “Jonah, you take her legs,” I say. “Bri and I will take her shoulders. Ready? One. Two. Three!”
We pull Robin onto the floor. I feel bad, but it’s for her own good. Kind of like a flu shot.
“Now you lie down on the bed,” I order Bri.
She kicks off her red heels and does as she’s told.
“Now we’re in the right positions,” I say. “I’ll help Bri fall asleep, and Jonah, you help Robin wake up. ’Kay?”
Jonah’s eyes light up. “I have an idea,” he says. “Be right back.”
“Be careful!” I tell him as he disappears out the door. I turn my attention back to Bri. “Do you want to take your crown off first? It doesn’t look that comfortable.”
“It’s not, but I want the prince to realize I’m a princess, you know?” she says.
“Good point,” I agree. I sit down at the edge of the bed beside her.
Bri adjusts her head on the pillow and closes her eyes. “What are you going to do?” she asks.
“Sing you a lullaby,” I say.
She adjusts her position again. “I can’t get comfortable.”
“You need to relax.”
She tosses and turns and turns and tosses. She loosens her gold sash. “Ready,” she says finally. But then she squirms again. “Really ready.”
I clear my throat. “Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bow breaks the cradle will fall. And down will come baby, cradle and —”
Bri’s eyes jerk open. “How is this supposed to relax me? You’re singing about a baby falling from a tree! The baby is going to break her poor little neck!”
“That’s the way the song goes,” I say. Hmm. She has a point. What if I change the words? “Let me try again. Close your eyes. Ahem. Rock-a-bye Brianna, on the tower top. When the wind blows the … princess will rock. When the bed breaks, the mattress will fall. And down will come princess …” My voice trails off.
“That is not much better.”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Bri sighs. “Why don’t you just hum softly?”
I nod. Then I hum. Robin closes her eyes.
I keep humming. Hummmmmmmm. Another drop of water lands on my head. Then on Bri’s cheek.
“This isn’t working,” Bri says.
“Do you want me to find you some warm milk? That helps me fall asleep sometimes. Or maybe an eye mask? It’s too bright in here because of the skylights, even with the rain. Where are we anyway? We’re in a tower, right?”
“We’re in the west tower,” Brianna says. “At court.”
“We’re at a court?” I ask. My heart thumps. “Like criminal court?” I would love to see a court. Judges work in courts!
Bri shakes her head. “No. The royal court.”
Oh. Right. Royal court. Oops. “So we’re not in a castle?”
“No,” she says. “But we’re only a few minutes away.” She closes her eyes again. “Maybe we should try counting turtles.”
Did she say turtles? “You mean sheep, right?”
She shakes her head. “No, I mean turtles. Why would you count sheep?”
“Um … I don’t know. Because they’re kind of fluffy? They look like clouds. Why turtles?”
“Because they’re slow walkers.”
Can’t hurt. “One turtle. Two turtles. Three turtles —” I feel ridiculous counting turtles but at least Bri looks more relaxed, so I keep going.
I try to imagine them. Little turtles. Green turtles. Slow turtles.
“Four turtles. Five turtles. Six.” Bri looks like she’s relaxing even more. This is working! Her breathing just got heavier, too. I wave my hand over her eyes and she doesn’t move. I think she’s sleeping! I should keep going, though, so her sleep gets really deep.
“Seven turtles. Eight turtles. Nine turtles.” Yawn. Maybe I should lie down, too? My arms are feeling kind of heavy. “Ten turtles. Eleven turtles.” I curl up at the bottom of the bed. “Eleven turtles.” Did I already say eleven? I think I did. Oh well.
It can’t hurt if I close my eyes for a few minutes, can it? I’m tired. It’s the middle of my night, after all.
Eyes. Heavy.
So very heavy.
I’m so very ti …
BANG! BANG! BANG!
My eyes fly open. What is that? Where am I?
BANG! BANG! BANG!
I open my eyes. Jonah is smashing together two copper pots directly above me.
I realize I’m lying in a very uncomfortable position on the bed, my head at a ninety-degree angle. Bri is sleeping on the other end. Robin is sleeping on the floor beside me. Everything that’s happened rushes back to me.
“What are you doing?” I whisper to Jonah while waving frantically. “Stop!”
“I’m trying to wake up Robin,” Jonah says.
“I just put Bri to sleep,” I whisper back.
But it’s too late.
Bri is groaning in bed, her eyes open. She is covering her ears with her hands. “Has it been a hundred years? Are we in the future?”
“No,” I say. I pry the pots out of my brother’s hands. “My brother ruined our plan.”
“But I was asleep,” Bri complains. “I really was.”
I glare at Jonah. “What were you thinking?”
He scowls. “She’s supposed to sleep for a hundred years. Once we put her to sleep, I didn’t think she was going to wake up. It was a curse.”
“He has a point,” I admit, staring at my sleeping friend. “I don’t think any amount of noise will wake up Robin.”
“So what will?” Jonah asks.
That’s when it hits me. “A prince! A prince will wake her up! That’s what the twelfth fairy said and that’s what happens in the story. A prince kisses her and that’s when she wakes up. We need to find a prince.”
“Great idea,” Jonah says. “Do you know any princes?”
“Do I? No. But Bri must know a couple.” I glance back at Bri. “Don’t you have prince-and-princess mixer dances or something?”
She shakes her head. “I have friends who are dukes and duchesses. My parents think I’m going to marry one of the dukes, but I’m so not. Oh, and I have one friend who’s a commoner. Tom. We’ve been friends since we were babies. He’s really great. Very smart. And sweet. And funny.”
“But he’s not a prince?” I ask.
“No.”
I sigh. “Then he can’t help us.”
Bri rubs her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Are we sure wearing a sleep mask won’t help me? Or maybe throwing cold water on your friend will do the trick?”
Jonah licks his lips. “Speaking of water, I’m thirsty. Do you have any soda?”
“Jonah, can you please focus?!” I say. I turn to Bri. “I’m sorry. Little brothers are so annoying. Plus, Jonah knows he’s not allowed to have pop.” Or soda as Jonah now calls it since we moved to Smithville. I’m sticking to calling it pop, thank you very much.
“Little brothers are annoying,” Bri says. “Felix is such a thorn in my side.”
“Who’s Felix?” Jonah asks.
“My little brother,” Bri says.
“I wish I
had a little brother,” Jonah says wistfully. “At least he wouldn’t boss me around.”
“I didn’t know you had a little brother,” I say to Bri. “I thought your parents had a hard time having kids.”
“They did. He was a surprise baby. He’s much younger than me — only three.”
“Aw,” I say. “That’s so cute.”
“Did he have a magical gift party when he was born, too?” Jonah asks.
“Are you kidding me?” Bri asks incredulously. “No way. My parents wouldn’t let any fairies near him after what happened with me.”
Just then a loud trumpet noise blares.
I check to see if it woke Robin up.
It didn’t.
“That trumpet blast means my parents and brother are back at court,” Bri says. “They’ll be serving tea now if you’re still thirsty, Jonah.”
“He doesn’t drink tea,” I say. “But he can have some milk.” I look up at the skylight. The sky still looks gray, but the click-click-click noises have stopped. “At least it’s not raining anymore.”
“For now,” Bri says. “April is a rainy month in our kingdom. We should move while it’s dry.”
“It’s April here? It’s only November in Smithville!” I guess it’s not only the time that’s different here — the months are different, too. “What’s the name of this kingdom?” I ask.
“Is it Ketchup?” Jonah pipes up hopefully.
Bri looks puzzled and shakes her head. “No. It’s the Kingdom of Rose.”
“Like the flower?” I ask.
She nods.
“Roses are my favorite flower,” I tell her. I can draw them well. All you need to do is make small half circles going outward. They’re one of my best doodles. Well, roses and judge gavels.
Oh, I wish this were a criminal court.
“Do you guys have a lot of roses?” Jonah asks.
Brianna nods. “They’re everywhere.”
“That’s the sweet smell!” I exclaim. I take a big sniff. “It’s delicious.”
Bri shrugs. “I don’t notice it anymore. I’m used to it. C’mon, let’s go get Jonah something to drink at Rose Abbey. That’s the name of the castle.”
Rose Abbey? The castle has my name! Kind of! Cool!
“Before we go can we move Robin back to the bed?” I ask. “I don’t want to just leave her on the floor.”
Whatever After #4: Dream On Page 3