Dreamer, Wisher, Liar

by Charise Mericle Harper

  She held one up and said, “It’s the enemy of the goldfish.” She didn’t have to convince me—sharks were pretty much the enemy of everything, and the number one reason why I was never going to swim in an ocean.

  The craft thing was harder, but not for me, because mostly it was just me and Claire waiting for Mom to come up with an idea. Still, it’s not exciting to just sit and watch other people think. Mom’s big idea ended up being that we should decorate mugs with Sharpies. It seemed a lot like what Claire had already done with the cups, but I didn’t argue. I just wanted get on with the party. Of course, the mugs were somewhere in the basement and I was given the job of finding them.

  “You’re looking for a box with six white mugs,” shouted Mom.

  She was giving me directions from the top of the stairs. Mom had picked up the mugs on one of her Freecycle trips.

  “It could take hours,” I complained.

  “You can do it. We’ll wait for you.”

  Mom’s words of encouragement weren’t a lot of help. Looking through all her junk was not going to be fun.

  On the way down the stairs I made a plan. If I didn’t have one, I knew what could happen.

  THE PLAN

  1. Put on rubber gloves.

  2. Do not go near the wish jar.

  3. Find the box of mugs.

  4. Take the mugs upstairs.

  Before Mom closed the door, I heard Claire ask her about love at first sight; it was another good reason to take my time. I walked straight to the sink and pulled on the rubber gloves. I turned around and scanned the basement. It was filled with boxes—hundreds of them. This was going to take forever. Finally I just made myself walk into the middle of it and get started.

  Going through the boxes was faster than I thought it would be. Each one took only a minute or so to examine. Really, the only hard part was moving the boxes around and remembering where I’d already looked. And then I miraculously found them, in box number nine—six white mugs. I couldn’t believe it.

  I dragged the box over to the workbench and unloaded the mugs. When I was done, I sat in the chair—just for a second, but that was a mistake, because with the sitting came thinking.

  I have extra time.

  I found those mugs really fast.

  Mom and Claire are probably still talking about romance.

  I bet Mom won’t even be looking for me for another twenty minutes.

  I could just do one wish.

  I had no choice. I had to do it. I jumped up, grabbed the jar, and picked out a wish.

  I Wish Anderson’s Was Always Good

  Suddenly I was in a Dumpster. Shue and Ashley were rummaging around on the far side, picking through boxes and bags. Maybe they’d lost something. Even though I was only watching, and nothing could touch me, it still grossed me out, being in there with garbage. Floating powers would have been better. I flapped my arms and tried to stretch up, but nothing happened. I was stuck, standing in trash. I took a step forward; at least it wasn’t rotting food—most of it was boxes and papers. I was picking my way toward the girls when I suddenly remembered my test words. I hadn’t said them. This time I had good ones. I shouted them out.

  “ORANGE WHALE!”

  It was perfect for where we were—the Dumpster was orange and huge like a whale. I smiled and continued toward the girls. They’d cleared out a tiny corner of the Dumpster and were piling up stationery supplies—pads of paper, pencils, pens, erasers, that sort of stuff. It wasn’t what I was expecting. They weren’t looking for something. They were being like Mom—collecting junk!

  “Look!” Ashley waved something in the air. “Three more pads of paper.”

  Shue pointed to the ground. “And I found these little bags. We can use them as pencil cases.” She looked over the Dumpster, smiled, and spread her arms wide. “I can’t believe all this.”

  Now Ashley was smiling too. “See, I told you. Isn’t it great?”

  Shue nodded and put her hand over her heart. “From now on, I’m always going to look in Dumpsters.”

  “And not run on them,” said Ashley.

  Shue looked embarrassed. For a second I thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, but she did.

  “Never again,” she said. “No running.”

  I didn’t know what they were talking about, but it must have been something bad, because now they both seemed serious.

  Ashley got out of the Dumpster, and Shue started handing her the things they’d collected. I ignored them for a few minutes and looked around. We were in the middle of a parking lot, and directly in front of us was the back of a building. I didn’t have to wonder what it was, because right on the side of it, in big red letters, were the words ANDERSON’S PRINTING. So this was Anderson’s. I’d been hoping for something more exciting. Never in a million years would I have guessed that Anderson’s was a Dumpster. There were hardly any cars in the parking lot, but the ones that were there were big and old-fashioned. What did that mean? Was it a clue? Was I going back in time? Suddenly Shue was talking again.

  “There, that’s it.” She handed Ashley the last handful and grabbed the side of the Dumpster and started to climb out. I was glad we were leaving. I stepped forward to follow them, but then things got confusing.

  “Ash! Do you hear me?”

  Who was talking? Was it one of the girls? How did she know my name?

  “Ash! I know what you’re doing, and I don’t like it!”

  Suddenly I knew who it was, and it wasn’t one of the girls. It was Mom! I was back in the basement! I panicked and tried to figure out what was going on. She knew about the wish jar! How? Could she see it from the stairs? I shoved the wish I was holding into my pocket. Mom took a few steps down the stairs toward me.

  “We’re upstairs waiting for you, and you’re down here feeling sorry for yourself. I sent you down here to look for something, not to sit and sulk!”

  I relaxed back into the chair; she didn’t know what I was really doing. It was a relief, but only for a second, because she was still coming toward me, and if I didn’t stop her, she’d see the jar. It was right there, out in the open. I jumped up, stood in front of it, and grabbed a mug off the workbench.

  “LOOK! I found them.” I waved the mug around.

  Mom stopped moving. I scooped up the mugs and walked toward her. The jar wasn’t hidden, but if she didn’t look behind me, I would be safe. I needed her to look only at me. I clanged the mugs together and kept talking.

  Mom leaned forward and held out her hands. “Don’t drop them.”

  As soon as I got to her, she took three. I followed her up the stairs. Halfway up she stopped.

  “Thank you for finding these. But this thing with Claire—it’s important to me. You have to try harder. Do you understand?”

  I nodded and looked down. I knew she thought I was feeling sorry and sad, but she was wrong. I was smiling and relieved, but I kept my head down—she didn’t need to see that.

  chapter sixteen

  Party

  Steve’s party turned out better than I thought it would. Mom kind of forgot about being upset with me, and I won the sock toss—two good things. Mom wanted me to let Claire win all the games, but I didn’t. Seven-year-olds aren’t stupid; if she’d won both games, she would have known it was on purpose. She was happy enough about winning the fishing game, and I think that she liked that we were both winners. Plus it was fun to high-five each other and make a big deal about it. Mom didn’t win anything, but she didn’t care. She was a good loser.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon looking for funny cat videos on YouTube, watching cartoons, and drawing, right up until dinner. Claire is crazy about drawing. Her favorite thing to draw is Steve, her goldfish—only she draws him with legs, so he can do people things instead of goldfish things. It’s a little strange, but Mom called it “marvelously creative.” I was glad when it was finally time for dinner—Claire takes up a lot of energy.

  After dinner I couldn’t wait for eigh
t thirty—Claire’s bedtime. When Mom took Claire upstairs, I followed them up and went to my room. What I really wanted to do was sneak back down to the basement, but I made myself sit down and write to Lucy instead. The jar could wait until tomorrow.

  I had Lucy’s letter all planned. I was sending her one of the party hats from Steve’s birthday, a shiny red cone with a glittery yellow pompom on top—her favorite colors. Instead of writing on the outside, I was writing on the inside, where no one could see it. It wasn’t easy to do; I had to use a very small pencil. I wanted to tell Lucy about Sam Leavitt and the thrift store, but that story was too long for the little space in the hat, so instead I wrote about the birthday party and the VS Depot. I’d tell her about Sam in the next letter. I couldn’t believe that Lucy had been gone for two days. It seemed a lot longer, but at the same time nineteen days seemed like forever. That was the countdown number until I was going to meet her. Mom knocked on my door just as I was writing out the address on the back of the hat.

  She came in, found an empty spot, and sat on the side of my bed. As soon as she looked at me, I started talking. I hadn’t meant to, but suddenly there it was, just coming out of my mouth—an eruption of complaints.

  “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to do everything that’s on Claire’s list. I don’t even know what’s on the list. Every day it’s a surprise, and I hate surprises. I’m trying to be nice and take care of her, but it’s really hard when she’s totally in charge of everything we do. I know she doesn’t have a mom. But still, it’s not fair.”

  Mom was quiet for a moment, and then she nodded. “You’re right.”

  I was surprised. “I am?”

  She nodded again and sighed. “Let me think about how to handle it. And you’re right about that list. I don’t know what’s on there either.”

  Having Mom say that helped; it was a relief. Suddenly I felt like we were on the same team. Me and Mom versus The List. I just hoped we were going to win.

  chapter seventeen

  Caught

  The next morning when I came downstairs, Claire and Mom were making pancakes again. I guess Claire never got sick of them. I liked pancakes too, but every day was too much for me. The wish jar was downstairs, still out in the open, and I needed to hide it. So before Claire or Mom saw me, I snuck past the kitchen and down to the basement.

  It was supposed to be just for a minute, to hide the jar, but once I was holding it, I changed my mind. I sat in the chair, put my hand in the jar, and made my own wish. I wish I knew which wish was next. It was a wish trifecta—me making a wish, holding the wish jar, and touching wishes. I waited for an extra second to see if anything special would happen, but it didn’t. That was okay; the wishes were enough. I gave the balls a final swirl and pulled one out, hoping it was the wish after Anderson’s.

  I Wish Spencer Was Around More

  We were in Ashley’s room. I could tell instantly, because right over the bed was a banner with her name on it. I looked around, but Ashley wasn’t in the room; it was only me and Shue. Shue was looking through Ashley’s desk, opening and closing the drawers. She was in a rush, but every couple of seconds she stopped, listened, and looked back at the door. What was she worried about? Someone catching her? I didn’t want to believe what I was thinking, but I couldn’t help it. Was she stealing something?

  “Green wolf.” I said my test words and walked toward her. I didn’t notice it at first, but she was holding something. I looked closer; it was the ugly yellow duck statue, the one with the removable head. After a few more seconds of watching, I knew what she was doing. She was looking for a place to hide it. It must be a game she and Ashley played—hiding the duck in each other’s rooms. How fun! Suddenly I felt uneasy, like someone was watching me—but that was impossible. I was invisible. I turned, and there in the doorway was one of Ashley’s brothers. I made a guess—Spencer. But he wasn’t watching me; he was watching Shue. I wanted to warn her, but I couldn’t. All I could do was watch. Shue walked over to Ashley’s closet, poked around for a minute or two, and then shoved the duck under a stack of clothes. Suddenly Spencer spoke.

  “I could tell on you,” he said.

  Shue gasped and spun around. As soon as she saw who it was, she smiled and relaxed.

  She took a step forward. “Oh, it’s you.”

  It was the first time I’d seen them standing together on even ground. I was surprised. I’d thought Spencer was taller than Shue, but he wasn’t, he was shorter.

  Shue pulled a brown paper bag out of her pocket and waved it in front of Spencer. “If you don’t tell, you can have some.”

  I didn’t know what she was talking about, but Spencer did.

  He stepped forward and pointed to the bag. “Let me see. What kind did you get?”

  Shue opened the bag so Spencer could see inside.

  After about twenty seconds he straightened up, grinned, and said, “Five Pixy Stix, half the red licorice, and all the orange sours.”

  Shue nodded. “Okay, but no orange sours.”

  Spencer wasn’t giving up. “What if I tell you a better hiding spot? An amazing one. Is that worth the orange sours?”

  Shue thought for a minute. “Maybe.” She hesitated. “But it has to be really good.”

  Spencer walked over to where Shue had hidden the duck and pulled it out.

  He turned to make sure she was watching and walked to the other side of the room. “This is where Ashley puts special things.”

  He stopped in front of the mirror above Ashley’s desk and fiddled with it. Suddenly the entire mirror swung open, and behind it was a hidden small shallow cabinet. Shue put her hands up to her mouth. It was obvious she’d never seen it before. The first thing I noticed was a jar filled with small pieces of paper.

  Shue pointed to it. “My duck notes!”

  There were other things in there too—a few necklaces, a pile of papers, a bunch of Shue’s drawings taped to the back of the mirror, a little blue vase, a tiny metal box, and one large sparkly earring.

  Spencer motioned to the cabinet. “See! I told you.”

  Shue was quiet for a moment. She pulled out an orange sour to keep and handed the whole bag of candy over to Spencer.

  “You’re right, it’s amazing. Here.”

  Spencer looked surprised, but he didn’t say no; he took the candy. A second later his mouth was full. Shue put the duck on the shelf and closed the mirror.

  She smiled. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Spencer nodded and rushed out of the room, probably scared that Shue would ask for the candy back. He wasn’t like me; he wasn’t curious. Why was she staying behind? What was she going to do?

  The first thing Shue did after Spencer left was check the hallway. He was gone—no one was there. She rushed back to the desk, opened the mirror, and took out the duck. I thought she’d poke around, look at stuff, but she didn’t. She glanced at her drawings on the inside of the mirror, smiled, and closed it back up. A minute later the duck was back in its old hiding place, under the stack of clothes. Why had she done that? What did it mean? But I never found out, because seconds later I was back in my chair. This time I moved extra fast. I grabbed a wish, read it, and was gone again in seconds.

  I Hope That Man Didn’t Really See Us

  “White cat!” I said my test words as soon as I saw Shue. Part of me was wishing I’d never started with the test words, but now it was too late to change it. Maybe they were important; I couldn’t tell. So now I had to keep doing it, just in case. We were at Anderson’s again, only this time the girls weren’t happy. They were standing outside the Dumpster, both looking grumpy. Shue stood on her tiptoes and peered inside.

  “There’s nothing good in there,” she complained. “Only food garbage.”

  Ashley looked over the edge and screwed up her face. “Ewww.”

  Shue slumped against the side of the Dumpster. “I wore my special sweatshirt for nothing.” She pulled it off and wrapped it around her waist. She was d
efinitely grumpier than Ashley.

  Ashley walked past Shue and circled the Dumpster. Was she looking for something? I couldn’t tell. When she came back around the other side, she was smiling.

  Shue was curious. “What? What’s so funny?”

  Ashley didn’t explain but grinned wider. “Come see.” She grabbed Shue’s arm and pulled her around the Dumpster to the back of Anderson’s. She pointed to a pair of men’s work boots sitting on the doormat in front of the door and giggled. “We could put stones in them, so when this person puts his boots on, he’ll be surprised.”

  Shue shook her head. She wasn’t convinced. “Whose boots are they?”

  “I don’t know.” Ashley shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  Shue was still worried. “What if we get caught?”

  Ashley frowned and put her hands on her hips. “It’s not like it’s against the law! It’s a joke. Plus it’s only a few stones.”

  Shue thought for a moment and then slowly bent down. She picked up a pebble. Ashley was more enthusiastic—she grabbed a handful. Quickly a few stones turned into hundreds, and soon the boots were completely full to the top. The man wasn’t going to be surprised when he put his shoes on—he was going to be surprised the minute he saw them.

  Shue stood back and admired the boots. “I bet—”

  Both girls looked up, startled; the handle on the door next to the boots was moving.

  “RUN!” yelled Ashley. They raced off down the street. I followed them, panting to keep up. Even in this fantasy world I was still a bad runner.

  The girls turned right at the end of the block and ran toward Ashley’s house. I followed them through the front door and up to Ashley’s bedroom. Ashley ran straight to the window, dropped to the floor, and peeked out from behind the curtain.

  “It’s a man,” she whispered. “He’s there!”