Upside-Down Magic

by Emily Jenkins

  He didn’t smile. He sat rigid.

  He didn’t have to tell anyone that Nory was his daughter. Everybody knew.

  Nory’s legs wobbled.

  “State your name,” commanded Mr. Puthoor. Nory had met him before, when she’d attended school events with her siblings. In all those times, she’d never seen him smile. Not once.

  “Elinor Boxwood Horace,” she answered. “But everybody calls me Nory.”

  Mr. Puthoor drew his eyebrows together. “We will begin with basic tests, Ms. Horace. If you show talent in one area of magic, we will ask to see more of what you can do in that category.”

  Nory nodded.

  “For example,” continued Mr. Puthoor, “the Flare test begins with lighting a match. If you can do that, we will ask you to roast a marshmallow, then cook an egg, and so forth.”

  Nory nodded again.

  “However, if you cannot light the match, you are not a Flare, in which case we will move on to the next category. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please approach the table, Ms. Horace.”

  Nory stepped forward. On the table was a box.

  “You may open it,” said Mr. Puthoor.

  Nory opened it and pulled out a large warty toad. It croaked and blinked its bulging eyes.

  “Make the toad disappear,” Mr. Puthoor instructed.

  This is the Flicker test, then, thought Nory. Making things turn invisible, like her father could.

  Nory figured she might as well give it a shot. It would be so great to be a Flicker like her father and not a messed-up Fluxer.

  She closed her eyes.

  She tried to erase that toad with her mind.

  She really, really tried.

  No toad, no toad, no toad.

  She opened her eyes.

  The toad was still there. Its eyes were still bulging.

  The teachers made marks in their notebooks. Nory’s father pursed his lips and made the toad disappear himself.

  Next, Mr. Puthoor stepped onto the stage and produced a box of matches. He set the box on the table, took out a single match, and held it out to Nory.

  “Light this for us without striking it.”

  The Flare test. Flares could manipulate fire and heat, like Hawthorn did.

  Maybe I can do this one! Nory thought. She had lit the sofa on fire, after all. That time she came down with a small case of dragon.

  Don’t even think about it! Or it might happen.

  Nory shook her head. “I can’t,” she told Mr. Puthoor.

  The teachers made marks in their notebooks.

  “All right, then,” said Mr. Puthoor. “Lift yourself into the air. Two feet from the floor, precisely.”

  Oh! Nory thought. The Flyer test!

  Nory wasn’t a Flyer, but she had indeed flown. More than once. For example, in January, she had turned into a mouse with bluebird wings and—

  Nope, nope, nope. They do not want to see that.

  These professors wanted normal Flyer flying.

  Nory contracted her muscles. She sensed her face turning red.

  Up up up up up up up up UP.

  She remained firmly on the floor.

  “Silly faces won’t make you fly, Ms. Horace,” Mr. Puthoor scolded. “Let’s move on. I will summon Pokey.”

  He whistled a short melody. A silver unicorn peeked out from backstage. Shyly, it trotted out.

  “As you know, unicorns do not like mushrooms,” Mr. Puthoor said. “And they’re quite skittish around most humans.”

  A small pile of mushrooms appeared on the table in front of Nory.

  “Convince Pokey to nibble them from your hand.”

  The Fuzzy test, then. Animal magic. Dalia could do this in a heartbeat.

  Nory scooped up the mushrooms. “Here, girl,” she said. “Here, Pokey.” She took a step toward the unicorn.

  Pokey whinnied and stepped away.

  “No, Pokey, you like mushrooms. Yummy yummy mushrooms!”

  Pokey stepped back again.

  “Enough,” Mr. Puthoor said wearily, but Nory kept trying.

  “Come on, Pokey. Be a big brave unicorn! I won’t hurt you.” She took a deep breath. “Eat the mushrooms! Pretty please?” Nory moved a step forward.

  Pokey reared onto her hind legs and bolted. She galloped three times around the stage before leaping off and thundering down the aisle. She made a sharp right in the lobby and disappeared up the stairs.

  Nory wanted to hide.

  Four tests failed.

  Pokey afraid. Mr. Puthoor exasperated. Her father, frozen in his seat.

  Still, the Fluxer test would be next. She could do it. She knew she could.

  Nory’s father rose. “There is one category left,” he said in a great, booming voice. It was the voice he used when addressing large crowds. Also, sometimes, at home. “Please turn yourself into a black kitten, Ms. Horace.”

  Nory concentrated. Hard.

  Kitten, she thought. Kitten, kitten, kitten!

  Like before, she felt her body shift, her vision blur. Popping noises. She concentrated on the details she knew the teachers would want to see: whiskers, claws, a bit of fluff in the ears. And …

  Nory was a kitten! A black one, too, from what she could see of her paws.

  “Very nice,” said Mr. Puthoor.

  Yes! Yes! Yes! Girl-Nory thought.

  Kitten-Nory purred.

  “Dr. Horace will now check the details,” Mr. Puthoor said.

  Nory’s father climbed onstage. He looked down at Kitten-Nory. She jumped onto the table and licked her paw, showing off.

  Father’s eyes were serious behind his glasses, but Kitten-Nory thought he looked pleased. He bent over her.

  Her senses went on high alert. What was that good smell?

  Fish!

  Fish! Fish! Fish!

  Ignore that fish! Girl-Nory tried to tell Kitten-Nory. Father liked to eat smoked salmon for breakfast. There was a smell of it left on his hands, that was all.

  But Kitten-Nory couldn’t help it.

  Fish!

  No fish for you!

  Father reached to pet her. His hand smelled yummy.

  Fish! Fish! Fish!

  Kitten-Nory’s jaw unhinged like a snake’s.

  A snake? Was she a snake-kitten now? A snitten?

  SNAP!

  Nory chomped her father’s hand with her snitten jaw.

  He yelped in pain and tried to shake her off, but she held on.

  Fish!

  STOP IT NOW!

  Fish!

  That is not a salmon! That is Father!

  Fish!

  You will never get into Sage Academy if you eat the headmaster!

  Fish!

  STOP!

  Fish!

  YOUR ENTIRE FUTURE IS AT STAKE!!!

  Oh, fine. With a wrench, Snitten-Nory let go of her father’s hand.

  Slowly, Nory felt the snake in her disappear.

  Phew. Now she was just a kitten again. A good black kitten, she was pretty sure. So maybe she could pass this test after all? It had been only a minute of snitten. Maybe they hadn’t even noticed.

  Nory felt a tingling on her shoulders.

  What was happening? She squirmed to look.

  Oh, no.

  She had sprouted wings. Enormous wings that were three times the size of her kitten body.

  Huge claws burst out of her kitten paws.

  Flap. Flap! Roar!

  She leapt into the air. She swooped around the auditorium with her big dragon wings.

  She was a full-on dragon-kitten now!

  How awesome is this? Dritten-Nory thought. So awesome!

  Girl-Nory disagreed. No, not awesome! Just be a normal kitten!

  But Dritten-Nory wasn’t going to listen.

  No way. Flying is too much fun! Maybe it’s time to breathe some fire, yeah?

  No fire! thought Girl-Nory.

  Yes fire! thought the Dritten. And that unicorn—what a yum
my snack a unicorn would be!

  Wait! thought Girl-Nory. Stop. Calm down. Fly lower.

  Maybe she could still fix things. In fact, she had an idea. A good idea.

  And if the idea worked, Nory might get into Sage Academy after all.

  Dritten-Nory flew down from the high ceiling of the hall. As the teachers watched, she flapped her wings and hovered over the stage—two feet above the floor, precisely.

  Just like the Flyer test.

  Did the teachers notice?

  Yes, they did! They were scribbling in their notebooks.

  Then, because she might as well try, Dritten-Nory went for the Flare test. With a great puff, she set the entire box of matches on fire.

  Wahoo! Fluxer, Flyer, and Flare—that was three out of five categories!

  Would they consider her a triple talent?

  Even if they didn’t, it was going to be okay. She had big magic! That had to be worth something.

  Or was she really, REALLY failing the Big Test?

  Her sudden doubt knocked the excitement out of her. She turned back into a girl.

  “Thank you very much for testing me,” Nory said. She forced a smile just the way Hawthorn had told her to. She used her very best manners.

  The teachers continued making marks in their notebooks. But Father couldn’t. He was cradling his swelling hand. His swelling, bleeding hand.

  The teachers looked stern. Finally they stopped writing and put their heads together. They whispered fiercely.

  Nory went cold.

  Mr. Puthoor looked up. “Miss Horace, I’m sorry. We can’t have such wonky magic here at Sage Academy. No matter how big your power, and no matter who your family is.”

  “But—”

  “Your magic is damaged somehow.”

  Nory looked at her father.

  Her father looked at her.

  “Agreed,” he said grimly. “Elinor Boxwood Horace, your admission is denied.”

  That evening, Father and Hawthorn picked at their dinner. Dalia ate only half a turnip. Nory couldn’t even manage that. Her throat was clogged with held-back tears.

  No one talked about what had happened. No one spoke at all.

  As soon as he finished his food, Father turned invisible and went to his still-invisible office. He didn’t come out for the rest of the night.

  Hawthorn let Nory stay up late in front of the television. He made her toasted marshmallows. Dalia coaxed a rabbit to cuddle in Nory’s lap.

  Still, they didn’t talk about what happened. Not that night, nor any of the days and nights afterward.

  Nory wasn’t sure what happened to kids who didn’t get into any schools.

  Nobody would tell her. The one time she asked Hawthorn, he said not to worry about it now.

  Lots of kids went to public schools, but Father didn’t like them. He would hire a governess, maybe, to teach her at home.

  Summer stretched toward fall. Nory played with her friends from Woody Dale Ordinary School. She heard them talk about the schools they’d gotten into. She admired their new talents without ever showing them hers.

  She read books. She watched movies. She kicked a soccer ball around the yard. She remained scared to ask Father what would happen to her when school started, so she never did.

  One cool August evening, Father’s phone beeped during dinner. He checked it and pushed back his chair.

  “She’s on her way,” he said to Hawthorn. “You’ll take care of everything?”

  Hawthorn hesitated. Then he dropped his gaze. “I will,” he said.

  Father strode from the room, going invisible as he did so.

  “Who’s on her way?” Nory asked. “What will you take care of?”

  Hawthorn lit his paper napkin on fire and put it out again.

  Dalia offered a spoonful of jam to the ferret at her feet.

  “What’s going on?” Nory persisted.

  “I’m here!” called a vibrant voice from outside.

  Through the open kitchen window flew a sturdy-looking white woman. She wore jeans and sneakers. Her short hair was sticking up every which way. She swerved neatly into the dining room and lowered herself gently onto the floor.

  Nory’s mouth fell open. It was Aunt Margo. She hadn’t been to visit since Nory’s mother had died six years before.

  Margo hugged Hawthorn and Dalia, saving Nory for last. “Oh, my little Nory. You’ve grown so big!”

  “I have?”

  “And I hear you’re quite a talent. Have you got your stuff?”

  “Huh?”

  Aunt Margo’s eyebrows shot up. “Shirts, jeans, jammies. Your toothbrush. I can come back for your cold-weather clothes, but you’ll need the basics.”

  Nory turned to Dalia and Hawthorn. They wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Oh, seriously!” said Aunt Margo. “Did they not tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” Nory replied in a tiny voice.

  “Sheesh. Why doesn’t anyone in this family talk about anything?”

  “Sorry,” muttered Hawthorn. “I was getting around to it.”

  Aunt Margo lifted off the floor so high she nearly touched the dining room ceiling. She banged on it with her fist. “You need to talk about things, Stone!” she yelled to Nory’s father. “It’s bad to not talk about things with your own children!”

  Nory gaped.

  “He won’t listen to me,” Margo said, lowering herself back to the floor. “He never did and never will. But it still feels good to speak my mind.”

  Nory thought it would feel even better to change the subject. “Father said you drive a taxi,” she blurted. “He says you don’t get paid much. Actually, he says you’re poor, which is why we haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Nory!” Dalia scolded.

  “Meh,” said Aunt Margo. “I’m not poor. I’m just not rich. And I don’t drive a taxi. I am a taxi.” She pointed to the logo on the front of her T-shirt: DOUBLE M FLYING TAXI.

  Despite herself, Nory was impressed. All Flyers could fly, or they wouldn’t be Flyers. But very few could take passengers.

  Hawthorn went to the coat closet and pulled out a blue duffel bag. He put it by the front door. “I got her packed,” he said, not looking at Nory.

  Nory’s lip trembled. “Father’s getting rid of me? Because I flunked the Big Test?”

  “It’s not like that,” said Dalia.

  “It’s just for a little while,” Hawthorn promised.

  “For your education,” said Dalia. “You’ll come visit on holidays. It’ll be fun!”

  “He’s ashamed of me,” said Nory. Her eyes teared up. “You’re all ashamed of me!”

  Aunt Margo shook her head. “Not true. They want what’s best for you. And I can’t wait to get to know you again.”

  The energy drained from Nory’s body.

  Father. Hawthorn. Dalia. The two bats, the three toads, the ferret, the toucan, the pair of mice, and the twelve rabbits. None of them wanted her.

  Hawthorn handed Nory’s duffel to Aunt Margo.

  “What about a jacket?” Margo said. “Does she have a jacket?”

  “Um,” Hawthorn said.

  “Get your jacket,” Aunt Margo told Nory.

  Nory did.

  “Button it up.”

  Nory did.

  “Say good-bye to Hawthorn and Dalia.”

  In a fog, Nory said good-bye.

  “Hold on to my shoulders, now,” Aunt Margo told Nory. “And whatever you do, don’t let go.”

  * * *

  The night air tingled on Nory’s skin. The moon, just rising, glowed bright.

  Down below, the towers of Sage Academy disappeared. Then the lights of Nory’s hometown were gone, too.

  Nory and Margo flew over black blobs that looked like forests, and black blobs that looked like buildings. The roads were lit up by streetlights and tiny cars.

  At one point, a family of crows flew alongside them. Nory reached out to touch them but they swooped away.

  A
unt Margo wasn’t chatty. She was concentrating.

  Eventually, they flew down to the lights of a small town built on a hillside. Little houses with porches were jammed up against one another, many of them brightly lit inside.

  Aunt Margo landed in a yard full of flowers next to a very small, very old wooden house. A battered WELCOME! sign hung from the door.

  “This is your new home,” Aunt Margo said proudly. “Number 14 Clover Street in Dunwiddle.” She pointed to the right. “Six blocks that way and four blocks over is Dunwiddle Magic School.”

  “What kind of school is it?” Nory said.

  “It’s a school school,” said Aunt Margo. “A public school.”

  Nory’s legs quivered.

  “It’s a nice place,” Margo continued. “Not fancy like Sage Academy, which I would argue is a good thing. Just a school where you’ll learn lots and make friends and have fun.”

  “Oh,” Nory said. “But will they know what to do with my—” She couldn’t get the words out. My messed-up magic?

  “Yes,” Margo said. “They have a great new program geared toward students like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Well, not exactly like you, because there’s only one Nory.” Aunt Margo smiled at her, as if being the only Nory wasn’t a bad thing. “But the school has just started a class for kids who struggle with magic. It’s new this year! Isn’t that exciting?”

  Struggle with magic?

  Oh, no.

  Nory had heard rumors of programs like this. There were a few in New York City. One in Miami.

  She was going to be in a particular class for the worst of the wonky.

  “What’s it called?” Nory asked. She had a bad feeling in her gut.

  Aunt Margo walked up to the door of the house and unlocked it. “It’s called Upside-Down Magic.”

  Aunt Margo had fixed up a tiny guest bedroom for Nory. It had bright green walls and an iron bed frame. There were no toys, no art supplies, no family photographs. But there was a stack of library books by the bed and a vase of late summer roses on the desk.

  In the morning, Aunt Margo showed Nory the rest of the house. She explained how to work the remote control for the television. She taped a chore schedule on the fridge. Then they went to the grocery store, where Aunt Margo asked Nory what her favorite cereal was. Nory knew she should say Fiber Flakes, because that was Father’s favorite. But Father wasn’t here, was he? Father had sent Nory away, on purpose, so in a flash of recklessness she told her aunt the truth.