The Secret of Goldenrod

by Jane O'Reilly

  As the class started lining up for lunch, Charlotte blocked Ben and Edward, who were pushing and shoving their way to the front of the line. And then Charlotte sneered at Trina, which made Trina more determined than ever to get back at Charlotte, but first she had to save Augustine.

  Miss Dale blew her whistle again. “I want everyone to stand perfectly still and silent for the next sixty seconds.” Preoccupied with Augustine’s whereabouts, Trina felt as if she were watching her classmates in slow motion: Edward was chewing gum again, Ben was balancing his brownie on the back of his hand, Prissy Missy fidgeted with a bow on her dress, and Charlotte played with her ponytail.

  In the fifty-ninth second, Edward blew a bubble as big as his head. In the same second, Charlotte pulled the rubber band from her ponytail. Trina watched, agog, as the bubble stretched and stretched from Edward’s mouth toward Charlotte’s shoulder.

  And then, at the sixtieth second, Charlotte turned her head, the bubble popped, and Edward’s wad of gum was left dangling from Charlotte’s long red hair.

  “Edward!” Charlotte screeched.

  Trina covered her grin. She couldn’t have imagined a better outcome for Charlotte.

  “Shoot,” Edward said, looking wide-eyed at Miss Dale. “That was my last piece.”

  Miss Dale couldn’t contain her exasperation a moment longer. “Edward, you and I will be talking after school.”

  Sniveling, Charlotte pulled on the gum, but wisps of bubble stuck to her fingers and then to her cheek and then to more of her hair. Miss Dale tried to help, but she couldn’t do much with one hand. And then Charlotte dropped her brownie and it slid, caramel side in, down the front of her shirt. And Edward managed to step on what was left of the brownie when it hit the floor.

  “Charlotte, I think you should go see the nurse,” Miss Dale said. “And Edward, please clean your shoe.”

  Amid snickers, Charlotte stormed to her desk, grabbed her backpack, and stormed out of the room, her red hair so tangled in pink gum it looked like cotton candy. “I’m being sabotaged,” she hollered.

  Trina was glad to see Charlotte go, but along with her went Augustine. How would she ever get the little doll back?

  Chapter Fifteen

  At recess, Trina sat on the bleachers, finishing the last of her potato chips while worrying about Augustine. What if Charlotte stuffed her in her backpack? What if she put her in her pocket and sat on her? It had just occurred to her that Charlotte might leave school early and take Augustine home with her when Edward tapped her on the shoulder with a butterfly net.

  “Want to help me catch some fresh flies for Prince’s dinner?”

  Catching flies sounded disgusting, especially on such a hot day, but it was better than sitting on the bleachers all alone, worrying. “Sure,” Trina said.

  “I know the best place.” He pointed to a big metal garbage can across the parking lot. “Race ya.”

  After a single stride, Trina knew she could beat Edward hands down, but she let him pass her when she caught a whiff of the garbage can, which was stuffed so full that the lid sat on top of the trash like a small hat. A cloud of black flies hovered there in a fury.

  “You count to three and lift the lid, and I’ll catch the flies with my net.”

  No way was Trina going to touch the garbage can. “You count to three,” she said, pulling the net from Edward’s hands.

  “One, two, three,” he said and grabbed the lid.

  The stench of rotting garbage filled the air.

  The flies buzzed madly.

  Trina breathed though her mouth, gave the furious black cloud one quick swipe, and the butterfly net filled with flies. With her other hand, she pinched the net closed and handed it back to Edward.

  “Wow!” Edward said. “You’re not like other girls.”

  Trina wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. “Probably not,” she said, trying not to gag on the smell of garbage.

  “Let’s take these to Prince,” he said, waving the net full of flies.

  When Trina and Edward walked into the classroom, Charlotte was sitting at her desk as if nothing had happened. As if no one would notice that she had changed her shirt. Or that her thick red hair barely brushed the tops of her shoulders. “Wow!” Edward said, carrying the flies toward Prince’s cage. “Someone got a haircut.”

  “Someone better mind his own business,” Charlotte snarled.

  She didn’t even look at Trina, but Trina was truly glad to see Charlotte. Now she had a chance to rescue Augustine before the end of the day.

  Seconds later, as Miss Dale and the rest of the class returned from recess, Edward screeched from the back of the room. “Oh, no! Prince is gone! All that’s left of him is a bunch of dead flies!” He waved the aquarium’s lid in the air and then he shot such an angry glare at Charlotte, Trina thought steam might come out of his ears.

  “What? I didn’t do it,” she said, looking up at Miss Dale pleadingly. “Really!”

  Everyone gathered around Prince’s aquarium as Edward shook the trapped flies from the butterfly net. A big black fly went buzzing by, but before any more could escape, Miss Dale reached down and repositioned the screen on top of the aquarium. “I have a feeling he just hopped out, Edward. And I think we’ll need something more secure than this screen if we find him.”

  “If?” Edward said.

  “When,” Miss Dale corrected herself. “If we’re really quiet, maybe Prince will croak—”

  “Croak?”

  “That’s not what I mean, Edward. I think if we are very quiet, we’ll hear him.” She looked up at the clock as if searching for a way to fast-forward the day to three thirty. “Please take your seats. And take out a clean sheet of paper for your spelling test.”

  Moans and shuffles were drowned out by Charlotte shouting, “Someone stole Mr. Nubby!” Trina turned to look at Charlotte, confused. Something else was missing now? First Augustine and then Prince and now something called Mr. Nubby.

  “Who is Mr. Nubby?” Miss Dale asked, as a group of kids swarmed Charlotte’s desk for a glimpse of the crime scene.

  “He’s my little blue pencil. I’ve had him ever since first grade and I always keep him in my desk. I’m going to get whoever took him.” Charlotte shot Trina an accusing look.

  Miss Dale waved her good hand in the air. “Go back to your seats, everyone. Charlotte, let’s keep everything in perspective. Please borrow a pencil from one of your classmates. We can look for—Mr. Nubby—later.”

  Trina zipped opened her backpack for a pencil and shut it instantly. In that split-second glance, she had spotted a little blue pencil sharpened down to the size of a paper clip. It had to be Mr. Nubby, which meant someone was framing her. But who? She caught Edward watching her, but he was the only one treating her like a friend. She slipped her hand inside the pouch and felt around for one of her pencils. “Here, Charlotte, you can borrow this one.”

  “Teacher’s pet,” Charlotte hissed at Trina beneath her fake smile. “I have my own pencils.” And then, in a loud, polite voice she said, “I’m ready, Miss Dale.”

  “The first word is ‘special.’ Today is a special day,” Miss Dale said. The room was silent as everyone wrote down the word.

  “That’s it!” Charlotte shouted behind Trina.

  “What is it now, Charlotte?” Miss Dale said. She sounded seconds away from losing her temper as she walked down the aisle.

  “I took out my barrette just before ‘One-Minute Me’ and I put it in my pencil tray. And now it’s gone. See?” Charlotte opened her desk wide so Miss Dale could see for herself. “I bet two dollars the same person who stole Mr. Nubby stole my barrette,” she said, scowling at Trina.

  “Charlotte, please don’t go jumping to conclusions.”

  Edward smiled slyly at Trina as he climbed up on his desktop for a better look. Clearly Edward thought Trina was the culprit, but he seemed to be happy with the idea.

  “Edward, get down,” Miss Dale said. “Charlotte, I think it
’s time to clean out your desk. It won’t even shut. We’ll keep an eye out for your barrette and pencil.”

  When the spelling test was over, Edward waved his hand in the air frantically. “Miss Dale, shouldn’t we organize a search party for Prince?”

  “Edward,” Miss Dale said. “Frogs like water. Why don’t you fill one of the art trays with water and set it on the floor. Right now it’s time for Silent Reading.”

  Trina didn’t have anything but her schoolbooks to read, so she pulled out her geography book and looked up all the cities and states she’d ever lived in. She was reading about the Santa Fe Trail when something tickled her ankle. A black fly was her first thought, until she remembered it might be Prince. Careful not to make any sudden movements, she sneaked a look beneath her desk.

  No black fly. No warty bullfrog. But there, perched on the toe of her tennis shoe, was Augustine—leaning on a pink angel barrette half as tall as she was. The covert operation had been exposed. “So it’s you!” Trina said out loud, forgetting all about Silent Reading.

  “Is it Prince?” Edward shouted from his side of the room.

  Trina shook her head and did her best to fake a sneeze. “Ah-choo!” And then she coughed. She reached under her desk, grabbed the pink barrette with one hand and Augustine with the other, faked the biggest, loudest coughing fit she could, and dashed out of the classroom, down the hall, and into the bathroom. She checked the stalls to make sure she was alone before she released her grip on the little doll.

  Augustine stood up on Trina’s palm with her hands on her hips, madder than a swatted bee. “You have ruined everything.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You left my best treasure behind. It was very heavy. I needed your help.”

  “I have it right here,” Trina said, waving the barrette at her before shoving it into her shorts pocket. She wasn’t sure who made her angrier at the moment—Charlotte for stealing Augustine, or Augustine for stealing Charlotte’s things. “This whole time I thought Charlotte had you. I thought she might take you home. And then what would happen? It’s all been fun and games for you, but I’ve been worried sick.”

  Augustine fumed. “Fun and games?” The little doll was so mad that she shook to the point of rattling. “That witch nearly crushed me in her fist. And it was everything I could do to escape her big satchel.” Augustine pinched her nose and shook her head in disgust. “I jumped from precipice to precipice. I climbed heavy ropes and slithered in and out of a vast, dark cave. I would not call my endeavors fun by any means,” Augustine said, stamping her foot on Trina’s thumb.

  Trina flinched on instinct, but she barely felt a thing. She figured the precipices were desktops and the dark cave had to be Charlotte’s desk. “That must have been horrible for you, I’m sure. But Augustine,” Trina pleaded, “why are you taking Charlotte’s things?”

  “I am revenging upon her.”

  Trina slumped to the cool bathroom floor and set Augustine down in front of her. “Augustine, you don’t understand. If anyone finds out I have Charlotte’s things, I’ll get in a lot of trouble.”

  Augustine folded her arms. “That is the problem with you, Citrine. You are just like Snow White. Snow White was too nice to everyone and that is why she choked on a poisonous apple.”

  Trina stifled a laugh. It was impossible to be mad at Augustine for more than a few seconds. “That’s true, but in the end, Snow White lived happily ever after.”

  “Only because her prince rescued her and shortly thereafter they were married in great splendor.” Augustine smiled her winsome little smile. “Dearest Citrine, may I tell you a secret?”

  “Of course. Tell me your secret.” Trina leaned her ear close to Augustine.

  “I am also to be married.”

  “Married! You?”

  Augustine placed both hands at her cheeks and nodded with pure joy. “It is true. As soon as I kiss my prince and free him from his wicked spell, we will be married.”

  It took Trina a few seconds to understand who Augustine meant. “You mean Prince? The frog?”

  Augustine spun in a circle, the back of her hand at her forehead. “Oh, Citrine, my heart aches at your words. How he longs to be free.”

  “He is free. No one can find him anywhere. He’s lost.”

  “No, Citrine, he is not lost.” Augustine cupped her hands at her mouth and spoke very softly. “I freed him from his dungeon and now he is in hiding.”

  “You mean you’re the one who let him go?”

  Augustine smiled demurely. “Oh, Citrine. He leapt with great surprise at the sight of me and broke free from his prison. He waits for me now.” She held her hand to her tiny brow, searching high and low. “Although I am unsure where he awaits me.”

  Just then there was the sound of high heels in the hallway. Trina put her finger to her lips and watched the large gap between the floor and the door as the toes of prim gray shoes approached the bathroom. Down the hall a teacher’s voice said, “Miss Lincoln, may I speak to you?” and the shoes turned and the footsteps faded away. As soon as Trina removed her finger from her lips, Augustine picked right up where she had left off.

  “We must find my prince, Citrine.”

  “Augustine, he’s five times as big as you are. If you get close enough to kiss him, he’ll swallow you whole.”

  “Please, Citrine. You do not see him as I do.” Augustine knelt on one knee and held out her delicate white hands to Trina. “I beg of you to give us this chance.”

  “But there’s no such thing as a—” From the corner of her eye, Trina saw something move. Without turning her head, she watched Prince land in a small puddle under the sink. He must have sneaked under the door in search of water. Trina stayed calm and whispered, “Be very quiet, Augustine, and turn around.”

  Augustine whirled around and swooned. “My prince! You have come for me!” Her little doll arms motioned urgently to Trina. “Hurry, Citrine. Help me kiss him and set him free.”

  Poor Augustine. How could Trina tell her there was no such thing as a frog prince? She couldn’t. Besides, Augustine would never believe her. Trina grabbed Prince with both hands and held him steady as Augustine reached up and fearlessly took the frog’s fat cheeks in her delicate hands. Trina took a deep breath and pointed his slimy green lips at Augustine’s face. When she bumped them together . . .

  Nothing happened.

  “Again, Citrine. Again!”

  This time, Trina held the frog like a bottle of ketchup and aimed him downward at the little doll, who was standing on her tiptoes, trembling. Augustine closed her eyes and kissed the frog smack on his lips.

  Again, nothing happened.

  Augustine looked up at Trina with a worry-stricken face. “Citrine, do you think he is ill?”

  Trina set the frog on the floor and wiped her hands on her shorts. “No, I think he’s just a frog. A regular old frog.”

  Augustine’s face fell, and her eyes glistened as if she might cry.

  “Don’t worry, Augustine. There will be other frogs. We just have to find the right one.” Trina picked up Augustine and stroked her cheek. “I am so glad to have you back,” she said as she tucked the doll into her pocket. “Don’t worry, school gets out soon and then we get to go home.”

  “Now, just one minute.” Augustine leaned over the edge of Trina’s pocket. “First of all, your witch is not truly a witch. She is a giant. And if there is one thing I know about giants, it is this: they all have their weaknesses. Secondly, the giant thinks I am among her belongings. What if she finds out I am no longer in her possession? What will she do then?”

  Augustine had a good point. Simply having the doll back in her pocket was not the end of the battle. Even though Charlotte had taken Augustine in the first place, if Trina kept the little doll, it might prove to Charlotte that she had gone through her things and stolen Mr. Nubby and her barrette. “I never thought of that,” Trina said with a sinking feeling. “But give me your word you won’t steal from her an
ymore,” she said, shaking her finger at the doll. “I don’t want to get in trouble for something I didn’t do.”

  “I do not have to steal from her. You told the giant yourself that bad luck comes to those who steal from Goldenrod, did you not? And I am from Goldenrod.” Augustine winked at Trina. “Now put me on the floor. I will find my way to the giant’s satchel.”

  Contrary to what Trina thought best, she set Augustine on the floor. “But how will I get you back?”

  “It is quite simple, Citrine. You will convince the giant to return me to you.” Without another word, Augustine scurried across the bathroom floor as fast as a mouse and ducked beneath the swinging door.

  “No!” Trina called, but Augustine was gone again, leaving her alone with the ugly bullfrog. Twice Prince escaped her reach until she cornered him in one of the stalls. She picked him up, water dripping from his webbed feet, and carried him into the classroom. “Look what I found.”

  “Prince!” Edward shouted, grabbing the frog. “All hail Citrine!” The whole class circled around Trina, chanting, “All hail Citrine!”—except Charlotte, who glowered from her seat.

  The rest of the afternoon was as normal as could be. No escaped frogs and no bubble gum. But normal also meant no Augustine. Trina still had no idea how she would convince Charlotte to give the doll back to her. She probably blamed Trina for everything that had gone wrong, including the unlucky moment she stood by Edward when the bubble gum bubble popped. All Trina knew was that she couldn’t go home without Augustine.

  The little doll’s words rolled through Trina’s head. I know of no good story where the maiden gives up. I know of no good story where the maiden gives up. Trina looked up at the clock. It was almost three thirty and she hadn’t come up with a single idea to save the doll. Maybe it wasn’t her lucky day, either.

  Lucky? Story? That was it!

  When the bell finally rang and the kids grabbed their things and headed for the door, Trina stood up in Charlotte’s path.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Latrine?”

  Trina did her best to keep a straight face. “I just wanted to say, I think your shorter hair looks really nice.”