by Liz Kessler
The second I’d finished speaking, the voucher flew from my hand.
No! Had I dropped it? “What’s happened?” I asked.
“It’s OK. See?” Daisy said. I looked where she was pointing. I hadn’t dropped the voucher at all. There it was, shining in bright, vivid colors, lighting up the night sky as it flew away from me, away from the tree house, up toward the stars. I watched till my eyes watered. It was like a magnificent firework display shooting across the sky. It was like a rocket blasting into space: colors dancing and crackling and zooming away into the night.
And then I saw the shooting star, bolting across the sky in a flash of white light. In an instant, the dancing colors were swallowed up by the star. The voucher vanished into the bright light; a moment later the night was pure blackness again.
I’d done it. I’d made my first wish.
I left Daisy punching buttons on her MagiCell and crept back into the house as silently as I could. Mom and Dad’s light was off now and I could hear Dad snoring gently as I tiptoed past.
I shivered as I got back into bed, even though it was a warm night. What had I done? Would it work? Would I know right away? How long would it be before the wish took effect? And why hadn’t I asked Daisy these questions?
My mind swirled and spun, and I fell into a restless sleep, waking three or four times before morning. Each time I woke, the night seemed to grow darker, the house more silent, my head more full of questions.
What was that smell?
My nostrils woke before the rest of me. Bacon. Someone was cooking bacon. Mom would be so mad! She’s been vegetarian forever!
I squinted at my alarm clock. Six thirty. I was about to turn over and catch a bit more sleep when I became aware of something else. Classical music. It was coming from downstairs. No one ever listens to classical music in our house! It’s always Celtic pipe bands and Chilean drummers or Irish folk music with a political message.
What was going on?
Then I remembered the voucher and the shooting star. Was this because of my wish?
I jumped out of bed and threw on my bathrobe. I pulled back the curtains just to check that the outside world hadn’t changed. It hadn’t. At least, most of it hadn’t. Something had, though. It was there — for real. Sitting in the driveway. A black, shiny Ford Mustang!
It had worked! It had really worked!
I ran downstairs and burst into the kitchen. There was a man who looked kind of similar to Dad sitting at the table. Similar, yet so different. For one thing, his hair was short and neat. And was that gel in it?
For another, he was wearing a suit and looking clean and tidy — and awake! He was just finishing off his breakfast and reading the Financial Times.
He smiled at me. “Morning, sweetheart,” he said in Dad’s voice. “Better get yourself dressed. We don’t want to be late.”
I stared at him. Did he remember yesterday? Was he even the same person? Did he know that if it wasn’t for me, he’d probably never in his life have gotten me to school on time?
“Cat got your tongue?” Mom said from behind me. I whirled around to see a woman who I guessed had to be Mom. Again, the resemblance was there. Just barely. But she was dressed! And cooking! I’ve never seen Mom in anything but her nightgown before midday. And I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had anything but rabbit-food muesli and thinly sliced bricks for breakfast. Of course — I’d wished that she would cook my favorite meals!
“Mom?” I said shakily.
She smiled back. Mom’s smile. Except perhaps a bit tighter. As though she was in a rush, but trying not to show it. Of course! She had to get to work! If she was the mom I’d imagined, she was a PA in a local firm. She was wearing really trendy black pants and a nice top — with an apron over it. And her hair was different as well. It was kind of neat. Short. Straightened? And blond. Mom’s hair had always been a kind of out-of-control frizzy brown mess, like Dad’s. Between their hair genes, I’d never really stood a chance.
“What have you done to your hair?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Mom looked puzzled. “What do you mean, dear?” she said. “It’s the same as always.” Then she went back to the stove. “I’ll finish making your breakfast, OK?” she said, cracking an egg into the frying pan. My mouth watered. I nearly dribbled down my chin.
“I’ll be down in two minutes,” I said, darting out of the door to get dressed.
It worked! It worked! It worked! I screeched to myself as I pulled my clothes on, leaping up and punching the air. My mom and dad were normal! They both looked respectable and ordinary. We had a normal car in the driveway! Mom was making a real breakfast!
I laughed with excitement. I wanted to call Charlotte and tell her. I wanted to run down the road screaming with joy. I wanted to hug Daisy. I wanted to tell everyone! My parents were normal!
Dad was still at the table when I went back downstairs. He was drinking coffee and reading the paper. “This came for you, dear,” he said, passing an envelope to me. It had Charlotte’s writing on it!
I ripped the envelope open. To my bestest, bestest friend in the whole world, it began. I wanted to laugh with pleasure.
“Sit down, hon, I’ll bring your breakfast over,” Mom said with a smile. I stuffed the letter in my pocket and tore into my breakfast as soon as she put it down on the table.
“Easy there, girl,” Dad said sternly. Easy there, girl? He made me sound like a horse! “You’ll give yourself indigestion,” he added before I had a chance to say anything.
“Anyone would think you’d never seen a plate of breakfast before,” Mom said more gently.
I looked down at the fried egg and bacon and sausages and hash browns. “Do we, um, do we have this every morning?” I asked hesitantly.
Mom laughed. “What a silly question.”
I laughed, too. Yes, ha, ha. “Sorry,” I said, still wondering what the answer to the silly question was.
After a while, Dad pulled his napkin out of its brass ring. Cloth napkins! We never use those! He wiped his mouth. “Darling, that was delicious,” he said, leaning over to give Mom a kiss on the cheek. Then he got up from the table and straightened his tie. “Ten minutes, Philippa, OK?”
“Ten minutes?” I repeated, looking at my watch. I’d be early. I’d never been early for school!
“You know your father doesn’t like to be late,” Mom said after he’d gone out of the room.
“Dad!” I burst out. “Dad doesn’t like to be late?”
Mom gave me a funny look. “Are you all right, Philippa?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. You just seem a little different this morning.”
I seemed different! I started to laugh. I stopped myself by stuffing my napkin in my mouth. I seemed different! What a joke! But then, it wasn’t a joke to her at all. It was real life. Real, normal, ordinary, everyday life.
“Ready, hon?” Dad called from the hall. From the window, I watched him get into the Mustang. A moment later, I heard the engine gently humming in the driveway. Gently humming! Not clattering and banging and blasting out the tune to the Hokey Pokey. This was real, normal, everyday life for my dad, too.
Mom was still looking at me quizzically. I smiled at her, then reached out to give her a hug. “I’m absolutely fine, Mom,” I said. And for once, I actually meant it.
I smiled to myself as I closed the car door behind me with a soft thunk. No clambering into the torn plastic seat. I studied the dashboard. It even had air conditioning and a CD player.
“Can we listen to music, Dad?” I asked.
Dad laughed and reached toward the radio.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, still smiling, waiting for him to explain the joke. If there’s one thing about Dad, I have to admit he makes me laugh. Granted, sometimes you’re laughing at him rather than with him, but I do like his sense of humor, and he has such a funny laugh that you just want to join in.
&
nbsp; “You are,” Dad said, smiling. He switched the radio on. I looked at the display. NPR!
“Why?”
“Listen to music,” he chuckled, as though listening to music was ridiculous or illegal or something.
“But —”
“Shush now, it’s the stock market report in a minute.” And with that, he turned the radio up and listened attentively while the broadcaster went on about the NASDAQ and foreign exchange rates and all sorts of other things that might as well have been another language to me. I pulled out Charlotte’s letter instead.
To my bestest, bestest friend in the whole world,
We only just got here, but I wanted to write straightaway. I’m in my new bedroom surrounded by about fifty thousand boxes. I can’t find anything. I start my new school tomorrow!
This weekend, we’re going to the ASPCA to see if they have any puppies. I can’t wait!
Wish you were here. Miss you so much already. Write sooooooooon!
Your best friend always,
Charlotte xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
I grinned to myself as I folded the letter and put it in my pocket. This was officially the best day ever — and it had hardly even started!
We arrived at the school gates. This was it. The big test. What was he going to do?
“Bye, Dad,” I said, leaning over to give him a hug. He flinched and looked at me strangely, as though I’d done something abnormal. Then he gave me an awkward pat on my back, shushed me again, turned the radio up, and shooed me out of the car.
“See you later,” I called from the pavement, but he was already whizzing into a three-point turn and zooming off down the road.
Oh. Well, that was weird. I stood on the pavement for a moment, watching the Mustang drive around the corner. Maybe he was going to wave to me at the end of the road.
But he didn’t.
I joined the steady stream of kids heading toward the front door and laughed at myself. Imagine being disappointed that he didn’t wave. Having to turn at the door and wave back had driven me crazy nearly every day for years! I would never have to do that again. Yay!
I’d turned up at school in a normal car. And lots of other kids saw me. Things were looking up. No more Hokey Pokey, no frantic waving — and no worries about Dad coming into my class in his pajamas!
I stood by the stream, waiting for Ray. The grass was wet with dew. I let it soak into my bare feet, filling me up. I closed my eyes, drinking the relief of it into my whole body.
I stretched my wings, opening them all the way out with a quick glance to check that I couldn’t be seen.
This little spot was perfect. Trees shielded it in every direction.
The morning was cool. I could hear a few birds tweeting high up in the trees.
After a few moments, I felt one of the sun’s rays beam brightly down in front of me, landing in the center of the glade.
“Ray.” I smiled, opening my eyes.
He didn’t smile back.
“What is it?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
Ray frowned. The light flickered and broke up for a second, casting shadows in tiny spots around the glade.
“ATC are concerned,” he said. “We’re not sure that you’re giving this assignment your best attention. This isn’t the same as your training exercises, you know.”
“What do you mean?” I sputtered. “I’ve already achieved all of the preliminary stages: Making Contact, Establishing Relationship with Client, Imparting Wishes — she’s even used the first one already! How can you say I’m not giving the assignment my best attention?”
Ray paused again. “You have done all of these things; it’s true. We’re not doubting your ability to perform.”
“What are you doubting, then?” I snapped, leaning back and folding my arms. The dew on my feet felt clammy and cold, and the trees were silent in the sudden stillness.
Ray leaned toward me, warming me with his brightness. “Daisy, you are working with real humans now. Your assignment has tasks within it.”
“I know. Like I said, she’s already had her first wish!”
“Not just the wishes, Daisy. Extra tasks.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lessons. For you. Every assignment has them. When you pass these, you progress in your development as a fairy godmother. I wasn’t sure you were ready for this, and —”
“I am ready!” I burst out.
“Daisy, you will have to work harder to prove this.”
“How can I work harder? I did the first wish at the earliest shooting star.”
“It’s not just about efficiency,” Ray said with a smile that made the grass light up and sparkle.
“I don’t understand.”
“Just remember to think as broadly as you can with each wish. Be sure to give Philippa what she really wants.”
“I am giving her what she wants!” I said, growing more exasperated by the second. “Haven’t you noticed her new parents?”
Ray paused again. “Get to know her, Daisy. And get to know yourself,” he said enigmatically before waving and flickering. He was starting to break up. “Oh, and Daisy, you’re lucky that you’ve got me as your supervisor on this assignment.”
“Why’s that?”
“Breaking Fairy Godmother Code? Revealing your true identity?”
I lowered my head. “I’m sorry. She just —”
“I know. She made you angry. I’ve persuaded ATC to let you off with a warning on this occasion. But Daisy, learn. Think about your personal tasks. Do your best. And remember, try to get to know Philippa.”
Then he disappeared into a narrow shaft of light and was gone.
I strode away from the glade, angrily shaking leaves off my feet. Work harder, indeed! What was I already doing? I’d granted her the wishes. I’d given her new parents, like she’d asked. I’d showed up at her silly school to make sure that I fulfilled the Monitor and Support part of the assignment. What more did they want?
By the time I arrived at school, I was seething. I got there just before the bell and spotted Philippa in the playground. Lauren and Beth were with her. Trisha Miles was approaching the group just in front of me. She was heading for Philippa and was bound to make some snarky comment as usual.
I sauntered over, almost hoping I wouldn’t get there in time to stop Trisha. It wasn’t my fault if I was a butterfly beat too late, was it? It would be so satisfying to see someone really go at Philippa. I’d never get away with it myself, but boy did I want to now! First she threw me out a window, then she landed me in trouble with ATC.
Get to know her? As if I was interested in doing that!
“Nice car,” Trisha said as she passed me. Nice car! That’s what she said! To me!
She’d walked away by the time I managed to recover enough to think of a reply. “Thanks,” I said weakly to her retreating back. I was still smiling to myself when Daisy appeared by my side.
“What are you looking so happy about?” she asked grumpily.
“Trisha Miles just said something amazing,” I replied.
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “What did she say?”
“Nice car.”
Daisy stared at me. “That’s it?”
I nodded. “I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to me!”
Daisy let out her breath in a low whistle. She seemed disappointed. She could at least pretend to be happy for me, couldn’t she? “I take it you’re pleased with your first wish, then?” she said flatly.
I smiled. “Totally. Thank you so much!”
Daisy shrugged. “All in a night’s work,” she said. We were at the front door. Daisy looked at me for a second, struggling to say something, then shook her head and went inside. I followed her into school.
I couldn’t stop smiling all morning. Everything felt different. I know it was a simple thing for Daisy to do, but it meant so much to me. I would never have to worry about my parents embarrassing me again
. I couldn’t concentrate on anything we did in class; I was too busy thinking about all the things that would be different. No ridiculous van, no more worrying about what my dad might say in front of people, no — my smile fell for a second. No more magic tricks? Would he remember how to make a penny disappear and then reappear in my ear?
I shook myself. It was a small sacrifice — and well worth it for how much better my life was going to be. All that was missing now was sharing it all with Charlotte.
I didn’t care if she laughed; I was going to tell her. I would burst if I didn’t. Still smiling, I opened my notebook and started scribbling her a letter.
I was packing up at the end of the day when Miss Holdsworth clapped her hands to get our attention. “Children, don’t forget to pick up the letter for your parents on your way out. There’s a pile by the door.”
I grabbed a letter and put it in my bag. A shot of nerves spiked through me as I went out into the playground. I wasn’t sure what to expect out there. Maybe the wish wouldn’t have worked properly or might have worn off by now. Perhaps I’d even imagined the whole thing and it would be back to normal. Daisy had shot out the door without even saying good-bye, so I couldn’t ask her anything. Not that I would have wanted to, anyway. She hadn’t been overly forthcoming with reassurance for me so far.
I needn’t have worried. There was no van to be seen. I let out a breath that I realized I’d been holding since I came outside.
Mom was standing on the pavement near the Mustang. I smiled when I saw the car. It was so normal! So un-vanlike. So not yellow.
She was chatting to some other moms when I went over. She glanced up and gave me a quick smile, then carried on talking.
“Well, it’s just not good enough, really, is it?” she was saying. “I mean, they’re not babies. It’ll be high school soon, and then before you know it, they’ll be off to college. There’s no point in having them leave here unprepared, is there?”