“No,” Samantha said. “It’s not enough. Make her mess up. Make her fall down. Make her the worst witch ever.” She stomped her foot. “And do it now.”
Isabelle didn’t want to hurt Nora. And this would hurt.
But Isabelle also knew the rules.
Right now, she had to ignore what she was feeling. She had to remember that more than anything, she wanted to be an official fairy godmother. She wanted to be able to come back to the real world again to grant wishes to other regular girls. She really liked the regular world, even with all its silly problems.
As her grandmomma would say, this was the job.
Isabelle whipped out her wand and closed her eyes. She hoped for the best.
She imagined Nora messing up. Falling down. Missing her lines. Then Isabelle flicked her wand with as much enthusiasm as she could, under the circumstances.
Then she turned to Samantha and said, “Your wish is granted.”
Samantha didn’t even say thank you. (She was too nervous.) Instead, she turned around and stalked out of the bathroom.
The show was about to start.
It is not fun waiting for certain disaster to occur onstage.
But Isabelle wouldn’t leave. She wanted to be there for Nora and Samantha, too.
The play started with Gregory’s announcement. (It went very well.) Then a couple of kids walked onstage and pretended to be spoiled rotten. They made terrible wishes. And then some other kids made some good wishes. And then they all sang songs and did a couple of dances.
In spite of all that practicing, there were some problems.
One little girl had to hold up her tutu to keep it from falling down. And another said her lines to the back of the stage, instead of turning around to face the audience. But when you’re little, mistakes are funny. The audience laughs. The people take pictures and they think you’re really cute.
That wasn’t true when you were older. When you were older, the audience wanted you to be great.
When it was time for Samantha’s first big number, Isabelle could barely sit still. Samantha looked just like the best good witch ever, in a big white dress with lots of tulle and ribbons (and thank goodness, no wings). When she hit the high note of the line “Good wishes always get granted,” Isabelle clapped her hands with the rest of the audience.
Then it was Nora’s turn. Her hair glowed from the sparkles. Her dress twinkled, too—but not in a sweet way. As she marched around the stage, she explained to the audience that the well used to belong to Samantha, but one day, when there was magic in the air, she stole it. She could do that because so many boys and girls made bad wishes.
Then Mason and Teja wobbled onstage to deliver their favorite line, “We are going to make those kids suffer.” This was the cue for Nora’s big song. Isabelle clutched her wand, even though it was mostly empty.
She wished she could wish. But she couldn’t. So she crossed her fingers the way everyone in the regular world does when they want something good to happen.
Nora began her song. “I am the wicked witch of the wishing well,” she sang. Then she stepped forward to begin her dance.
She took another step and then two shuffles and then she opened her arms—and BAM! She knocked over the top of the well.
Of course, everybody laughed. (They thought they were supposed to.) Isabelle started to close her eyes, but the funny thing was, Nora didn’t look upset. She kept singing. And smiling. And then she tripped on the top of the well—maybe even on purpose—and that was funny, too. The entire audience was roaring when Mason and Teja wobbled around the stage trying to put it back together. The best part was when Teja went left at the same time Mason went right and with Nora stuck in the middle, they all fell down and practically kissed (by accident).
When the song ended with Nora waving a limp wand that looked more like a sock than a stick, Isabelle stood up and cheered with everyone else. This was fortitude. This was bravery.
The audience loved it. For a serious person, Nora was really, really funny!
Intermission was almost over when Janet found Isabelle. “There you are,” she said. “Samantha needs you. In the girls’ room. Now!”
Isabelle ran back to the long row of stalls. Samantha stood there, hands on hips. “This is not what I meant by make her mess up big-time. Do you know that Dee actually told her that she was a genius? That she should ham it up even more in the next act—especially in our big number, which is supposed to feature me?”
Isabelle felt bad for Samantha. “I told you to wish to be the best.”
“Can’t you do something?” Samantha pouted. She paced around the room.
Isabelle felt her wand. She had maybe three or four sparkles left. And maybe Nora’s sparkle/glitter (or whatever that was) would run out of juice. She wasn’t sure if this was what Grandmomma meant by “the importance of independence” or why Zahara thought “delayed gratification” was so great. Or if these were shenanigans meant to hurt the fairy godmother world.
Isabelle had a strange feeling about Auntie Viv. She was too eccentric to be real.
But right now, Isabelle had to help Samantha. She had to make her happily ever after.
“A wise fairy godmother once told me: You get the right princess at the right time,” Isabelle told Samantha. “And now I understand why.” She took a deep breath. What she was about to say was going to be difficult. “So, no. I can’t undo what I did. I can’t make this easier for you. Samantha, you made your official wish, and that means you have to trust the sparkles. You have everything you need to be happily ever after. And the truth is: I know you can do it, even though Nora is going to keep messing up. So go out there and break a leg! But not really! If you want to be happy, you can do it. You know what that means. And you don’t need magic.”
In the second act, nothing went according to plan. But it was perfect. Samantha showed as much bravery and fortitude and good humor as Nora.
When Nora tripped, she helped her up.
When Nora forgot a line, Samantha spun in circles and made up great lines a good witch would definitely say.
She even told one of the kids that she couldn’t grant his bad wish, because he hadn’t yet thought out all the consequences. But in this case, she gave the kid a second chance.
When the play ended, Nora got a standing ovation. Samantha did, too. Together they stood at the center of the stage and bowed.
And then the real magic happened.
They stood together, arms linked. And they both started laughing. When the audience cheered even louder, they gave each other a big hug.
This was the power of sparkles. It was the power of friendship. It was the power of happily ever after.
Isabelle had done it!
When the lights came on, she looked for Auntie Viv. (She really wanted to ask her about those sparkles.) But Isabelle couldn’t find her. Not in the audience. Or backstage. Or in the girls’ bathroom.
But she did find Samantha. “Are you happy now?” Isabelle asked.
Samantha’s stage makeup was smeared and her hair was almost as messy as Nora’s, but it was obvious. She was definitely happy.
“Thanks, Isabelle. I am happily ever after. Nora and I made up. Do you want to go to her house for some post-play cookies?” She told Isabelle she shouldn’t say no. “Nora’s stepmom is one of the best bakers ever. Even without a fairy godmother. Although, who knows? Maybe she does have one.”
This was Isabelle’s chance.
All the way to Nora’s house (in the car), Isabelle thought about the upcoming Extravaganza. And Angelica and Fawn. Even though she knew returning the sparkles meant admitting her guilt, she was ready to start fresh. She wanted more than anything to be a good fairy godmother. But being a fantastic and loyal granddaughter was even more important. She didn’t need a book to teach her that.
It was strange being back at Nora’s house.
It was hard pretending that she had never been there before.
But she did it.
And when everyone started singing the big song from the show, Isabelle grabbed a cookie (she couldn’t resist) and snuck back to Nora’s room.
Isabelle dropped to her knees and wiggled under Nora’s bed. Even though the room was well lit, it was dark under there, and it was hard to see. Nora stored her memory box all the way in the back corner. There was also an old birthday card with a smiling elephant on the front, a picture of Samantha and Nora, and a notebook filled with ideas about how to change the world.
Isabelle pulled out the box and sat in the middle of the floor. She had done it. She had made Samantha happily ever after. Nora had her friend back. Everything was going to be great.
Then she opened the box.
The sparkles were gone.
No!” Isabelle shouted. “No, no, no, no, no!”
They couldn’t be all gone. This couldn’t be her fault. It couldn’t be that her sparkles had been used to wreck wishes.
But that’s what it looked like.
Then she felt a cold and familiar hand on her shoulder. She looked up. She knew that hand.
It was Grandmomma. Dressed like a regular person, with a long coat and a scarf and a snazzy fedora. She did not look happy. Or in the mood for excuses.
Isabelle immediately confessed. “I’m sorry I gave Nora the sparkles. I’m sorry they fell into the wrong hands. I’m sorry that so many things went wrong because of me.” Then she confessed all of her secrets, from stealing the sparkles from Grandmomma’s office to breaking Rule Three C to giving a couple of sparkles to Nora.
She didn’t have to look humble.
She was humble.
All she cared about was the fairy godmother world. “Can you fix this? Can we get the sparkles back? Was Aunt Viv an ex–fairy godmother? What’s going to happen to me? Is Mom really in trouble?”
Grandmomma looked at Isabelle in the way that made strong fairy godmothers weak in the knees. “First let’s get out of here,” she said. “Then we can talk.”
Isabelle didn’t want to argue. But she did want to say good-bye, even though she knew Samantha and Nora wouldn’t remember her tomorrow. This was probably the last wish she’d ever get to grant.
Isabelle looked back through the door. She could see Nora and Samantha singing. And laughing. And flapping Samantha’s wings. “Can I just …”
“No,” Grandmomma said. “If you want to be a fairy godmother, we have to go now.”
Isabelle took her grandmomma’s arm. She hoped that whatever was going to happen next wouldn’t be all that bad. The truth was she was scared, but she was also relieved.
There’s nothing worse than keeping a secret for a long time, but some fairy godmothers need to learn things a couple of times.
Even though the Extravaganza was almost ready to start (and fairy godmothers always arrive on time), Grandmomma didn’t seem in any rush. First, she took some time to sort through her mail and wiggle her toes. She also couldn’t resist a little “I told you so.” She was a mother, first and foremost.
Then she was ready to lecture Isabelle. “So you understand why we make these rules? And that leaving sparkles unattended will always have very bad consequences?”
Isabelle agreed to everything Grandmomma said. “I have a lot to learn,” Isabelle admitted. “But now I know that much.”
Grandmomma told Isabelle to stand up. She had something to tell her. She reached into her drawer. Isabelle was sure it was a certificate of banishment. Or a one-way ticket to the Home.
Instead, it was a jar of sparkles. With Isabelle’s note still on it.
Isabelle didn’t know whether this was nice or mean or positively wonderful. “When did you find them?” Also: “You tricked me!” and “No wonder Nora never wished for me to come back.”
Grandmomma looked pleased with Isabelle’s response. “Isabelle, who do you think you’re dealing with? I got them the night you gave them to Nora.” She added, “Why do you think I wasn’t in the picture with Clotilda, Angelica, and Fawn?” Grandmomma got up and tried to neaten Isabelle’s messy hair. “Did you actually think a fairy godmother in training could fool the most powerful fairy godmother, who happens to live in the same castle?” When she put it like that, it really did seem ridiculous. “It’s a good thing we’re family. And that I care so much about the job. And you. Please promise me you won’t do that again. It’s hard enough dealing with all the real issues in the fairy godmother world without having to defend you to my friends.”
“I promise,” Isabelle said. Then she asked, “But then whose sparkles were loose? And why didn’t you tell me right away?”
Grandmomma didn’t answer the first question. She let Clotilda (who was snooping) answer the other. “Because, obviously,” Clotilda said, “you’re a trainee! We wanted you to learn the hard way. Plus, it was sort of funny watching you try to keep your secret.”
That was a little mean, but Isabelle knew she deserved it. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But there’s one thing I don’t understand. Nora had sparkles in her hair. But they weren’t magic? Or were they?”
“As far as I know, Nora’s magic came completely from her heart,” Grandmomma said. “And Aunt Viv’s just a nice lady with bad fashion sense and a flair for glitter.”
Isabelle wasn’t quite sure she believed that. “But she seemed so magical. And lovely. And funny. And those sparkles were so, well, sparkly.”
“Perhaps she was once a princess?” Clotilda asked.
That was an interesting idea, but Isabelle didn’t have time to think about that now. She was too happy. She wasn’t in trouble. Plus they had an Extravaganza to attend. “I can still go, can’t I?”
“Of course you can,” Grandmomma said. “You passed Level Two.” Then she added, “Next time something doesn’t make sense, trust the sparkles. Use your common sense—not just your gusto. You two are my family. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, family always comes first.”
Grandmomma told them to gather around so she could talk about something really important. In other words, Mom. “When sparkles started disappearing, I hoped that maybe I could find her. But I couldn’t.”
Isabelle felt sad. “So it was her?”
“I can’t say for sure.” Grandmomma sighed. Then she sat down. “I had hoped she needed me. I miss her so much.”
“I do, too,” Clotilda said.
Isabelle said, “And I do, too. Even though I don’t remember her at all.”
“Isabelle,” Grandmomma said, “I know when you gave those sparkles to Nora your intentions were good. But as we have all seen, sparkles can make mischief.” She waved her wand and Isabelle’s rule book appeared. “So I have a deal for you. I won’t tell Luciana about those sparkles. And in return, every day until Level Three, we are going to study together. Do you understand?”
Isabelle understood her vacation was ruined. But she didn’t care. This time, she was determined to learn.
“And what about Zahara?” Isabelle asked. “Are you friends again?”
“It might take some time, but I think we’ll get there.” Grandmomma opened the door. “The last time Zahara hosted an Extravaganza, she gave everyone chocolate shoes. They were delicious! We definitely don’t want to miss those.”
Unfortunately, Zahara did not have enough sparkles to make chocolate shoes.
But she did have enough to turn the ballroom into a lush and beautiful enchanted garden, complete with trails covered in moss, as well as all kinds of flowers and shrubs. Isabelle admired how the walls looked like sunshine. The girlgoyles looked gorgeous in their flower wreaths.
“It looks beautiful,” she told Zahara. The old woman was dressed in a long flowing dress covered with real flowers. She picked two flowers right off her dress and handed them to the sisters. “Go on, eat them. They’re actually pretty tasty!”
Before Grandmomma could say anything, she added, “And welcome home, my friend.” At first they just stood there. Then they shook hands. Then Isabelle shouted, “Hug a
lready!” So they did. And then everyone laughed, because Grandmomma was tall and Zahara was tiny and they looked funny hugging and laughing in their fancy clothes.
Since they had a lot of catching up to do (which might have included an invitation to teach again in training), Isabelle decided it was a good time to explore. She walked down the path and admired all the exotic flowers. Then she found an actual wishing well (still not magic), made a wish, and poured herself a cup of sparkling raspberry juice. To her surprise, right in front of her was a gigantic gnarly tree just like the one she had planted. It was even covered with pink blossoms! And right behind it was the buffet.
The food looked wonderful and natural (if maybe a tad on the healthy side). There were cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off, flower-shaped cookies, muffins stuffed with blueberries, and tiny scones and cakes that tasted like they were filled with mango cream. Just as Isabelle was about to eat her first chocolate-covered strawberry, Luciana came over to congratulate her. “I knew you could make those regular girls happily ever after. Now I hope you will eat and dance and celebrate that we fairy godmothers can do anything! Having fortitude isn’t about being unhappy. It’s about trusting yourself. And, of course, the sparkles. When you want to make a princess or regular girl happy, you have to believe in their power. Am I right or what!” She patted Isabelle on the head and handed her another edible flower. “I have an idea. Why don’t you give this to Angelica?”
Isabelle understood what she was saying. To Isabelle’s surprise, she found Angelica at the other end of the buffet, filling her plate with enough sandwiches for three trainees.
They traded treats. “I heard you got a standing ovation,” Angelica said.
She was still wearing her necklace. And it was still bright red. When Isabelle stepped back, Angelica said, “It’s never not red,” and she looked sincerely humble. “Either my magic is on the fritz, or everyone has secrets. I just think it’s pretty.” (This was her way of unofficially burying the hatchet.)
Keep Calm and Sparkle On! Page 8