by Liz Kessler
I just smiled. I didn’t trust my voice to get past the stone lodged in the middle of my throat.
Charlotte pulled the door closed behind her, and I stood on my own outside her empty house, waving and waving and waving as the huge white van carried my best friend and all her belongings away to start her new life.
I stood in the glade, waiting for the pre-assignment meeting to start. Come on, where are you? Dawn, they’d said.
I glanced at my watch, noticing the stupid clothes I was wearing. They’d been left for me near the stream. I told myself it wouldn’t be for long. But why did they have to put me in this department? I mean — humans!
I looked longingly down at the rushing water, sprinkled with sunlight in sparkly patches. My throat was parched.
I knelt down at the edge of the stream and scooped a few handfuls into my mouth. Much better.
What would I have to do to be a river one day? Or even a bird, or a squirrel, or a mouse? Did they have to work with humans, too?
“Daisy.”
I turned to see a shaft of sunlight beaming down from a cloud all the way to the floor of the glade in front of me. Specks of dust flicked around inside it. The light was so bright that I had to shield my eyes.
“About time,” I said, getting up and wiping my mouth.
I should have known better than to talk like that to my boss — but I was angry. And besides, it was only Ray. He was one of the soft ones. I’d worked with him a couple of times in the Seasons and Colors Department.
Some of them made you call them by their full names. FGSunray63728 was the worst. Most people called him by his nickname, the Godfather, but not to his face. Ray was the best of the bunch — which meant it was perhaps a little bit too easy for me to lose my temper with him. Not smart. I could still get into trouble with him — or get passed on to his superiors, the rainbows.
The sunlight flickered and danced on the ground. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said.
“Just LOOK at me!” I burst out before I could stop myself. I was too angry — I’d deal with the consequences another time. I pulled up a sleeve to reveal a giant bruise spreading up my arm in a mottled mass of purple, black, and blue.
Ray’s face glimmered inside the sunlight.
“We were all extremely sorry to hear of what happened,” he said. “But you know that there’s nothing we can —”
“And this!” I pulled down a white sock and stuck my left leg out in front of him. Specks of dusty sunlight spread and wavered in the air as he leaned forward to take a closer look at my ankle. I noticed him wince at the swelling.
“I could have broken them both!”
“We do take this seriously,” Ray said gently, “and I’ve reported it back to the whole 3WD team. But the assignment has to go ahead as planned.”
“But — but it can’t!” I sputtered, limping around to make sure he could see how badly injured I was. “I never wanted to work with humans in the first place. You know how upset I was when my friend was swatted — before he’d even started his assignment! I told you humans don’t care about us. They’re dangerous and mean and callous. But you said it would be all right. You said that being a flower would be straightforward. And then she did this to me!”
“What would you like us to do?” Ray asked.
“I want you to take me off the case,” I snapped. “Surely you can’t expect me to work under these conditions!”
A sudden breeze brushed through the trees, shaking the leaves on an old willow.
“I can’t do that,” said Ray. “Once the drop of sadness has fallen on you, the assignment has begun. You were carefully chosen for this task. We need you to follow it through.”
“Can’t you do anything?” I asked, aware that my voice was coming out in a whine. I hated myself for pleading like that, but I hated her even more. “Couldn’t you at least delay the start or something while I get over my injuries?”
“One moment,” Ray said. He disappeared as a big fluffy cloud moved across him. I pulled back my sleeve and pointedly examined the bruises on my arm while I waited.
The cloud moved on and Ray was back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do. Delaying the start will only cause problems. Now that you’ve been picked, you’re on the life cycle. We can’t risk you running out of time. Especially with this being your first fully solo assignment. You understand, don’t you, Daisy?”
I nodded. I understood, all right. I had less than two weeks, if I was careful — or my life was at stake. Every assignment is a matter of life and death for fairy godmothers; we all understood that right from the start. You had to do the job within your life cycle, or the life cycle ended — literally. Under normal circumstances, there was always plenty of time, so it shouldn’t have been an issue. But these didn’t feel anything like normal circumstances to me.
“Come on, then,” I said. “Give me what I need, and let’s get on with it.” I reached into the sunlight and waited for the envelope and MagiCell to materialize.
“Good luck,” Ray said as he faded away, glinting briefly across the trees and throwing a final spotlight onto the stream.
“Yeah, whatever,” I replied. Then I turned and limped away.
The first thing I noticed on Monday morning was the gap where Charlotte should have been. It was everywhere. First we drove past her house and didn’t pick her up. I tried not to look at the empty dark windows and the SOLD sign on the lawn.
Next was crossing the playground all on my own. No one to complain to about my totally embarrassing dad, who always insists on dropping me off at school in the van. He can sometimes look a little crazy in the morning, grinning and waving till I get to the front door, his hair sticking out at every angle. Not that I can talk. At best, I could describe my hair as light brown and wavy. In reality, it’s mousy and frizzy and no matter what I do with it, it looks like a well-used mop.
Dad always gives me a great big bear hug before I can get out of the van, which I pray every morning that no one notices. You’d think he wasn’t going to see me again for a month, the way he carries on.
And then he always has to toot the ridiculous horn as he leaves.
He had this special horn installed that plays the chorus to the Hokey Pokey. One time, when he was in an even better mood than usual, he actually got out of the van and did some of the actions. That was possibly the lowest point of my whole life. It got around the whole school, and for an entire semester kids would walk past me spinning around in a circle, sticking their left leg out, and then bursting out laughing. Yes, very funny. Very original. You try having my parents.
Dad always sits and waits in the van for me to wave at the gate before he leaves. So there’s no way of pretending that I don’t know him. The worst thing is when Trisha Miles arrives at the same time as me. She always makes some barbed comment. Usually I just grab Charlotte and run inside. I had no one to grab today, though, so I just gave Dad a wave and scurried in as quickly as I could.
Inside school, it was just as bad. I noticed Charlotte’s bare cubby. And her seat next to me was empty, like everything else.
I tried to join in the general buzz as everyone came in, talking in high-pitched voices about what they’d all been up to over spring break. Lauren and Beth tried to include me. They sat at the same table as Charlotte and me. They’re best friends, like us. I could tell they only really wanted to talk to each other, though, as they kept referring to things they’d done together and then laughing like hyenas.
They kept trying to explain the jokes, but I told them it was OK. I said I had things to do. To be honest, I don’t always get their jokes, anyway. They’re both into sci-fi and number puzzles, and they do things like write notes to each other in codes that no one else can understand. It was nice of them to try to include me, though.
I made myself look busy, opening the drawer under my desk to tidy it. There wasn’t really anything to tidy, so I just moved my pens and pencils around a bit, and then pretended to be
looking for something in my bag. At least I didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to include me in their conversations or looking sorry for me.
“Is this seat taken?” a strange voice said.
I looked up to see an unfamiliar girl standing beside me. She had blond hair that framed her head in a curly mop. Her face was pale, but with pink splotches on her cheeks and bright green eyes that were staring into mine.
“I said, is this seat taken?” she repeated, pointing at the chair next to me. Charlotte’s chair. A couple of the others nearby had turned to look at the new girl.
“I — well, no, I guess not,” I said.
“Good.” The girl pulled the chair out. She had a bag over her shoulder that squelched against her back as she sat down.
“Um, don’t you want to take your bag off?” I said hesitantly.
“What? Oh, this. Yes, I was about to,” she said snootily, dropping it on the floor beside her. Then she turned away from me and sat high in her seat, her back as straight as a wall. She drummed her fingers on the desk and looked sharply around the room, her lips pursed and eyes wide as she took in her surroundings.
A couple of the boys at the next table were staring at her with blank faces. The two girls opposite them were staring at her, too, only slightly more subtly. One of them smiled. The girl didn’t seem to notice any of them.
Who was she?
I’d find out soon enough. She wasn’t showing any signs of wanting to talk to me, so I decided not to ask.
Miss Holdsworth came in a few minutes later, and the room gradually hushed. “Good morning, 6B,” she said, smiling at us all.
“Good morning, Miss Holdsworth. Good morning, everyone,” we replied, as we did every morning. The girl next to me looked startled for a moment, then nodded to herself as though she’d just learned something new, and repeated what we’d said.
Most of the class looked over to see who’d spoken at the wrong time. A few of them laughed. I wanted to tell her not to worry; it didn’t matter. Some of them laughed at you over anything. You got used to it. Kind of.
But she didn’t look bothered. She still had that aloof look in her eyes, as if she were slightly above the rest of us, slightly removed.
“I see our new girl is here,” Miss Holdsworth said, putting on her glasses and opening her attendance book. “Daisy, isn’t it?” she said, scribbling away. “I haven’t been given your surname yet.”
“Surname?” the girl said.
“Your last name, dear,” Miss Holdsworth said. She often called us “dear” when she was in a good mood. She was a bit old-fashioned like that. She was pretty strict as well. She called us all sorts of other things when we were in trouble. Sometimes they were funny. Lizzie Andrews once got called a fishwife for talking too much. We all laughed at that. We usually knew by the look on Miss Holdsworth’s face when it was time to stop laughing, too.
Daisy glanced quickly around. Her eyes seemed to fall on the books I’d piled up at the edge of the desk. Then she snapped her eyes away and said briskly, “French. Daisy French.”
Miss Holdsworth continued talking while she wrote Daisy’s name in the register. “Philippa, you’ll look after Daisy for her first week,” she said. “Make sure you show her around the whole school. I don’t want her getting lost.” She looked up. “Is that all right with you, Philippa?”
“Yes, Miss Holdsworth,” I said. I peeked at Daisy to smile at her, but she didn’t return my look. She must have been really nervous. I wasn’t surprised that she’d clammed up. I would have, too. I hate being put on the spot like that. I’d probably have turned bright pink as well. In fact, I could feel my cheeks burning now, knowing I was the center of attention, even if it was only for a few seconds.
While Miss Holdsworth took attendance, I kept trying to catch Daisy’s eye to let her know I’d take care of her. It might take my mind off Charlotte not being here. Give me something useful to do.
As I glanced at her, I noticed she had a scratch on her cheek. Her arm looked bruised, too. I couldn’t help wondering what had happened. Maybe she’d been in an accident. Perhaps that was why she’d had to start at a new school so late in the year. I’d look after her. I leaned over to whisper to her. “You’ll be fine with me,” I said.
Daisy turned to look at me. “I’ll be fine anyway,” she replied in a sharp whisper.
I felt as though I’d been slapped. My cheeks burned again.
I tried to tell myself that people act differently when they’re shy. I’d still be nice to her. I’d still show her around. Apart from anything else, I’d be in trouble with Miss Holdsworth if I didn’t.
We had P.E. first thing. It was a sunny day, and we were playing kickball. I noticed Daisy had quite a bad limp as we went outside. She went up to talk to Miss Holdsworth and must have gotten excused from playing, because she sat on the side for the whole game.
I was made an outfielder with one of the boys. I hate that. You have to be good at catching people out, and catching is not one of my strong points. In fact, sports in general are a weak spot for me. I’m not terrible at them. I just don’t have much coordination.
Trisha Miles was on the opposite team and high-fived her teammates every time I failed to catch the ball. I could see Daisy out of the corner of my eye. She rolled her eyes a couple of times when I missed the ball. She and Trisha looked like they were sharing a laugh one time when I fell over trying to catch it. Why didn’t she go off and sit with Trisha, then? I didn’t ask to take care of her!
I’d been jealous of Trisha’s gang for years. They might be mean, but they were supercool, too; they were the ones everyone wanted to hang out with. I’d never gotten anywhere close. And here was some new girl exchanging knowing smiles with her, five minutes after arriving.
But Daisy hardly watched the game. Just sat there with her sweater on, fiddling around in her bag. It was so warm out, she must have been boiling. Why didn’t she take her sweater off? At one point, she took something out of her bag. It looked like a cell phone. Good thing Miss Holdsworth didn’t see. She’d have hit the roof! Daisy just sat there playing with it. She didn’t strike me as someone who worried about what people thought of her.
“This is the cafeteria,” I said lamely, holding the door open for Daisy.
As we stood in line, I mulled over the strange morning I’d had. The lunch line had that empty feeling about it, like everything else. Charlotte’s absence seemed to be everywhere. The only things that took my mind off her were having to look after Daisy and wondering why she seemed to have such a problem with me. Not that either of those was much fun to think about.
Daisy picked at her lunch. I don’t think she ate a single thing — just drank two cups of water. A group from our class crowded around our table, clearly wanting to check out the new girl. Daisy didn’t even seem to notice them.
“I’ll see you outside,” she said, getting up after a few minutes of sitting together.
“You hardly touched your food.”
“Not hungry,” she said with a shrug. Then she drained a third cup of water and left me to polish off my lunch as quickly as I could.
She was leaning against the wall when I came out of the cafeteria. I tried smiling at her again. She just raised her eyebrows and started walking. I wanted to ask what I’d done. I mean, how could I have done anything? I’d never met her before this morning!
Whatever her problem was, it couldn’t be anything to do with me.
We walked along in silence. Every time I opened my mouth to speak, I stopped myself and shut it again. I didn’t want to give her an excuse to snap at me. With every silent second, I felt more miserable and missed Charlotte even more.
This was starting to feel like the worst week of my life.
Why, why, why? WHY did I have to put up with this? Why couldn’t they have taken me off the assignment? Why did they have to put me on it in the first place? They knew how I feel about humans. I was perfectly happy working on Seasons and Colors.
&
nbsp; Anyway, I was here now. There was nothing I could do about it other than get the job done. And like it or not, I was responsible for Philippa — even if she thought it was the other way around!
I reached into my bag, thinking now was as good a time as any to get started. “I’ve got something for you,” I said. I still wasn’t sure how to get the assignment going without giving myself away. Why hadn’t I concentrated properly during my training?
Philippa looked shocked that I’d spoken to her. Then she smiled gratefully. For a second, I almost felt sorry for her. Then I shook my head. Humans hurt fairy godmothers without a thought, I reminded myself. They swat them, stand on them, and squelch them. They throw them out windows!
I stopped feeling sorry for her pretty quickly after that.
I was about to pull the vouchers out of my bag when a couple of girls from our class came toward us. It was the girl named Trisha, with someone else. Now these were the kind of girls I could get along with. Trisha had a look in her eyes that I liked. A kind of sparkle. So much more fun than Philippa. Why couldn’t I have been given her instead? It was obvious that her friends were the ones worth knowing around here.
Trisha and the other girl looked us both slowly up and down as they passed. Hey, don’t associate me with her! I wanted to shout. I’m only doing my job. I’m way different from her! Look at me — it’s obvious!
I couldn’t say anything, though. I had to swallow my real feelings and put up with it. Just get on with the assignment, I told myself. Get it done and get out of here.
The girls passed us, laughing and whispering.
“Don’t worry about them,” Philippa said. “They’re like that with everyone. They think they’re better than the rest of us.”
Maybe that’s because they are, I thought. “OK,” I said.
I reached for the vouchers again, but as I did, my MagiCell started beeping in my pocket. “’Scuse me a sec,” I said. Then I turned away from Philippa and checked out the screen. OBSTRUCTION TEN SECONDS, it read.