by Susha Golomb
“Oh, they told me, all right. But they told me that Mom was a mermaid. Naturally, I assumed they had just made it up.”
“Miriam,” he said slowly. “Read my lips. Your mother was a mermaid.”
Miriam sat there with her biggest skeptical smirk to date. I folded my feet under me and tried to look inconspicuous.
CHAPTER 28
EVELYN X
“Would you like me to say it again?” Grandpa said. “Your mother was a mermaid. For six years, she lived under the ocean with an adopted family.
“Miriam,” he said, sounding seriously frustrated. “You’re walking around with wing buds and a magic coat. Why is this so hard for you to accept?”
I knew the answer but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it out loud. Big sister would know what to do, but how could I ask her if she wasn’t there.
“Because,” I finally mumbled, still mad, and not really wanting him to hear, “if everything Mom and Dad said was true, then they were telling the truth when they said that I didn’t have a sister.”
I let my voice go so low by the end of the sentence, that even I had trouble understanding what I was saying. Grandpa sighed and began to speak.
“It happened,” he said, “because we didn’t know that magic ran in our family and neither did Evelyn X. Not only that, but I don’t think Evelyn ever figured out that she probably had a fairy ancestor in her own closet as well.”
“Evelyn X?” I said. Come on, Grandpa, I’m thinking. You can do better than that.
“X isn’t her original name. Evelyn was a college friend of Grandma’s. She changed her name when she decided to become a witch.”
“Witches and mermaids,” I muttered. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this.”
“Just be quiet and listen,” Grandpa said sharply. “I don’t like talking about this anymore than you like hearing it.”
I kept my mouth shut, but I let him have my biggest, my-god-adults-are-such-morons, sigh.
“It was right after Woodstock,” he continued, clearly choosing not to notice my non-verbal signal. He went back into that story-telling way of talking that always makes me suspicious.
“People were doing lots of strange things. Evelyn happened to think witchcraft was the ultimate cool. It was fun, and it annoyed the older generation. That was all that mattered in those days.”
“So you’re telling me this person was really a witch?”
“There are no witches, Miriam. At least not in the Halloween, wicked witch, broomstick tradition. What there are, are people like you and your mother – and Evelyn – who because of their histories, are more susceptible to magic.
“Even so, when Evelyn started messing around with magic spells the only time it really worked was when she tried it out on Rose. She thought she was doing a parlor trick. No one was more surprised than Evelyn, when Rose disappeared.”
“This is not making sense,” I said. “Why should her trick only work on Mom?”
“There were three conditions Evelyn needed to do real magic. First, she had to be able to call the subject by her true name. That part was easy. Second, she had to be someone who could use magic and apparently Evelyn was.” I nodded, but kept my hands crossed over my chest.
“Last and most importantly, the person she did the spell on had to meet the same condition of being someone who could use magic, which Rose did.”
“So what happened?” I asked. My hands fell to my knees and I leaned forward to hear the answer.
“That’s it. She was over for a visit, showing off some silly hocus-pocus. Uncle Mickey was just a baby, but Rose was all of eight years old and thought it was wonderful. She begged Evelyn to let her be a helper. We thought it was sweet of Evelyn to include her.
“`First, I must render you invisible,’ Evelyn had said, with as much drama as she could muster, `so that you can be my unseen helper.’ She waved her arms around and repeated some nonsense that none of us including Evelyn understood and Rose disappeared.
“There was no flash of lightning. No thunderbolt from beyond. Rose was just quietly and completely gone.
“What a great trick it was, I thought at first. No mirrors. No equipment. Right there in front of our noses. I started to applaud. Then I saw the look of shock on Evelyn’s face and I went nauseous with fear.
“`It never did that before,’ she whispered.
“Everything, including my heart, froze and stayed that way for the next six years. Rose wasn’t invisible. She was gone, completely and utterly gone.
“So was Evelyn, by the way. She didn’t have the courage to stay and try to figure out how to fix what had happened. She left town the next day. We never saw her again.
“For six years, after Evelyn’s accidental Sender Spell dumped Rose in the ocean with a tail where her legs should have been, your mother lived with adopted mer-parents in a city on the bottom of the sea.
“For six terrible years until the spell simply wore off of its own accord, we didn’t know if our child was dead or alive.”
CHAPTER 29
A GAME WITH A SISTER IN IT
“There’s a meteorite shower predicted for tonight,” Grandpa said to me that night at supper.
“I’ve never seen real meteors,” I said, trying to sound at least a little enthusiastic.
“What? Never seen a shooting star?” Grandpa said.
“There are hardly any stars where we live,” I answered. “We’re too close to the city.”
“Well, we get plenty here,” Grandma said. “The shower won’t start till late, ten thirty, eleven. But it’s a warm night. Why don’t you three,” she nodded at the stool where Tefnut was sitting with Poppy curled up between her feet, “take a blanket out to one of the chaise longues in the yard.
“You can sleep out there if you want, or use the futon on the back porch if you’d rather. You’ll still be able to see most of it through the porch screen.”
“Aren’t you coming to watch, too?” I asked.
“We’re real tired,” Grandma said. “It’s an early night for us tonight.”
Tefnut `excused’ herself right after dinner.
“I gotta go,” she said. “Say goodbye to the oldies for me.” CHAPTER 29
“What’s up, Tiffy?” Poppy asked.
“Nothing. It’s over. We found Miriam. Now I want to go home. Not for me the open road. Bye.”
“Don’t you want to see the meteor shower?” I said to her vanishing tail. But she had already pushed open the unlatched screen door and disappeared into the backyard.
“How will she get home?” I asked.
“Shortcut,” Poppy answered. “We found a Gate, a couple of blocks away and from there it’s not far to the beech tree in your yard.”
“Oh.” I replied. “I don’t suppose I can get home the same way?”
“Nope. Maybe when you’re older.”
I shook my head, understanding, but, not really. Isn’t it amazing how many things you have to wait for when you’re a kid, I thought. Then I’m supposed to grow up and wish I could be a kid again.
“Oh, well,” I said out loud. “Maybe it will make sense someday.”
“What will?” said Poppy.
“Nothing, really,” I answered, resignedly. “Let’s get some pillows and stuff for the porch.”
We got the futon ready for later, then set ourselves up with pillows and blankets on one of the lounge chairs in the yard. With the back lowered almost flat, it was a perfect setup. All I had to do to watch the sky was open my eyes.
“I can’t believe it, Poppy,” I said after we were settled. “Somebody poofed my mother, just like you did to that flea.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone using the Sender Spell with people before,” Poppy said. “Although now that I think about it, it should be easier, because you need a name for it to work, and with people, you usually already know what their name is.”
“Fleas have names?”
“Yup.”
“What do you do, ask t
hem? Excuse me, Flea, would you kindly tell me your name so that I can kick you out of your nice furry home and send you to some cold damp nasty place?”
“Nope. Fleas aren’t smart enough to tell you, even if they know, which they don’t.”
“They don’t know their own names?
“Like I said, they’re not real bright.”
“Come on, Poppy. Gimme a break.”
“No, really. It’s not that hard. There are only about a dozen different Flea names.” She started to count off on her fingers. “Brandycone, Flopbane, Legwort, Eggpaddy, Dustdragger, Prince Edward…”
“Prince Edward?” I said, trying not to crack up.
“Sure. Prince Edward is one of the more common ones. There must be a zillion fleas called Prince Edward. So I look at the flea, and usually I just know which name it is. Don’t ask me how…It’s magic,” she said, wiggling her fingers and making a silly face at me.
“You must have a really strange reputation back in Ardu,” I said.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Poppy said, throwing her arms over her head. “And, please, no flea jokes.”
The only way I was going to avoid coming out with all the flea jokes that were already swarming into my brain was biting my tongue – too painful – or with a quick change of subject.
“How did you find me, anyway?” I asked.
“Tefnut figured it out. It had something to do with a game.”
“A game?”
“Yes. A game with a sister in it.”
“Oh,” I said, mortified, realizing that my most private moments weren’t so private.
Duty done and glad to be home. I jumped out of the tree house and headed for my cat-door. Padding leisurely through the tame grass, I raised my nose to catch all my special smells. Ahhh, the smell of home. Delicious. My mice, my chipmunks, my shrews and voles, my…predator?
I was not alone! Someone was stalking-in on my territory. I swiveled my ears to tune in on the rotten interloper. Nothing moved. It must be another cat. I tuned in to its heartbeat. Ka-thumpa, ka-thumpa, ka-thumpa. A cat all right, a big one, very big. I sniffed again. Male. Big fat male cat in my yard. Unacceptable.
“You touch my mice, you die, scum.” I spoke in a whisper, knowing full well that he would hear every word. A low chuckle came back from beyond the rhododendron.
“Fear not, fair pussy. I’ve already eaten.”
That voice dripping with sarcasm. I knew it well. My nemesis. My evil shadow. Pisu was back for his annual gloat.
This is getting old.
I sat. Let him come to me, the old hairball.
Pisu waited vainly for me to try to chase him away. I could hear his tail swishing with impatience. I held to my position in the middle of the open lawn where a sneak attack was not possible, keeping my tail still and controlling my breathing to a steady ‘I couldn’t care less’ beat.
Eventually, Pisu gave in and stood up. He tried to compensate for this loss of face and lack of cat-like patience with a menacing approach. The effect was spoiled when he stopped abruptly midway to chew on his right hind leg.
“Hello, Tefnut,” he said through a mouthful of fur. “I’m here to see if you need anything. I’ve come to help.”
“From you?” I was too incredulous to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Well, now that your grace period is up you’ll be coming home, won’t you, Tiffypoo?” My skin crawled. “I’ve come to help you get ready.”
“Help? The only thing I need, Pisu, is to never see you again.”
“But, Tefnut. Everyone is so looking forward to having you back. We really need you.” He used the most irritating possible pretend whine. This, he was good at.
“Give it up, Pisu. I’m not coming back. You set me up. You used magic. You made me think a mouse was a bear. I had to leave or be chased out of office and laughed out of Ailuria. You got what you wanted. Leave me alone.”
“But, Tiffypoo…”
“I have everything I need, Pisu. This is a very Comfortable place. Go away.”
“Aw...please come back, Tefnut. Please…please?” Chomp.
“Go away, you old fleabag. This place is mine. I want you off my territory.”
“I do not have fleas,” Pisu said petulantly. “You know my skin is sensitive.” He had hardly gotten the words out before he was seized by another itch. Chomp. This time it was the base of his tail.
“Pisu. I had a hard day. I am not in the mood for an extended visit. Get lost,” I hissed.
“Oo, oo, I’m so frightened,” Pisu didn’t bother to hiss back, instead, he just leaned over me in case I hadn’t noticed that he was twice my size.
“You have to come back, Tefnut,” he snarled. “Your time is up. And when you do,” Chomp, “I will be released from my tooth-and-claw-bond. My silence is only promised as long as you stay out of Ailuria.”
“I concede you a significant size advantage, Pisu. You’re the biggest cat I’ve ever known. Some of it may even be muscle, although I doubt it… maybe your head…?”
“I don’t need muscle. I could squish you like a flea.”
But I was a female in her own territory. I feared nothing. Pisu knew this. He knew I wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if he tried anything. He might win a fight with me, but he wouldn’t walk away from it. He would crawl. Damaged cats have short lives.
“There are still cats in Ailuria who will kill for me,” I snarled at him in full bristle, letting out a long, low growl. “If I wanted to come back, you would have been dead long ago.
“Try listening with both ears this time, Pisu,” I screeched, in classic catfight mode. “I like it here and I don’t want to go back and if you keep annoying me, I’ll have you killed anyway.” I gave him a good, close-up view of my rear end, and walked away.
“Oh, and don’t take the trouble of following me, Pisu,” I said without bothering to turn around. “You’re too fat to fit through the cat-door.”
CHAPTER 30
GROWING WINGS
We sat quietly for a while looking at the sky. It was still too early for shooting stars, but with full darkness, the Milky Way – the galaxy, not the candy bar – glowed, lighting up a big piece of the sky.
“I wonder what it would be like to watch the sky like this but from a planet right in the center of the Milky Way?” I said. “I bet the whole sky would be so filled with starlight, it would be like daytime.”
“Would you like me to take you there some day?” Poppy said shyly.
Without sitting up, I turned my head to the wide padded arm of my chair where under a washcloth blanket, Poppy lay on her back looking up at the stars with me.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like if the Milky Way filled the whole sky. But I didn’t seem to be in charge of my imagination tonight. It was like being on the edge of a dream when things push in without permission.
Because, as soon as I closed my eyes, I was overwhelmed by the feeling that I had just lost my best friend. I couldn’t stop thinking about my sister. It didn’t feel like she never existed. It felt like she did, and that now she was dead.
I closed my eyes tighter to squeeze out the tears then opened them to see four, no five shooting stars in a row.
“Poppy. Look.” I pointed. “Over there.”
I wanted to join them, leave my sadness behind, and race through the sky with them. I could feel myself pulled towards the stars. Almost as if I was floating.
“Sit up a minute, Miriam, will you?” Poppy was staring at me.
It was too dark to see her expression, but her voice sounded, like I shouldn’t ask questions. I sat. She pushed back her covers and flew around behind me.
“Miriam,” she said from behind my chair, “I think it’s time to go home.”
“I know,” I said with a sigh. “I thought I’d leave tomorrow. That way I’ll only miss one day of school.”
“No, not tomorrow, tonight. Now.” Her voice had a funny sound, like she was scared or exc
ited or something.
“I can’t leave tonight. How would I get there?”
“Fly.”
“Poppy,” I said. This conversation was going nowhere fast. “There isn’t a plane until one o’clock tomorrow.”
“Look at your back,” she hissed.
I twisted my head around. I could see Poppy behind me, and just out of the corner of my eye, I could see that my T-shirt was all pushed out.
My heart stopped. I ripped off my shirt so fast, that it really did rip. I wiggled my shoulder blades where the wing bumps were. They weren’t bumps anymore.
CHAPTER 31
WINGING IT
“But it’s been less than three weeks,” I said. “How can they grow so fast.”
“I guess we got you at a good time. When your body is ready, it just happens. Sort of a `now-you-see-them, now-you-don’t’ deal.”
“Was it like that for you, too?” I asked.
“Worse. I was born with wing buds. I spent my entire childhood watching those stupid stubs in the mirror. Until they grew in, I had to walk or be carried everywhere. Then one morning, I woke up and there they were, just like with you. It was total freedom.”
“I don’t feel so free,” I said.
“That’s because you haven’t tried them out yet. Come on.”
Poppy flew up, urging me to follow. She was so excited, she was bouncing in the air.
“Wait,” I said nervously. “What do I do? Aren’t there any rules or anything?”
“Yea. Don’t get tangled in the electric wire. Let’s go.” She flew higher.
“Wait,” I shrilled. “What do they look like? They’re not angel’s wings, are they? I would hate it if they were angel’s wings.”
I turned around like a cat chasing its tail trying to see behind me.
“They’re not angel’s wings, Miriam. They’re more like floppy butterfly wings. Not feathered, but sort of moth soft.”
“Thank God. What color are they?”
“Maybe lavender. I don’t know. It’s dark. What’s with you, anyway?”
“Don’t I have to do something? Say a magic word or something?”
“Yes. Say abracadabra. Jump up in the air and flap your wings.
“What?”
“Just do it. Come on. Come on.”
“Abracadabra,” I said, feeling stupid. I jumped up and wiggled my shoulder blades.
“What if it doesn’t work?” I said to Poppy.