The Problem Child

by Michael Buckley

  “You’re in love with me! I knew it!”

  “Gross!”

  “You want me to be your boyfriend, don’t you?” Puck taunted. His wings suddenly popped out of his back and he swooped over to Sabrina. Before she knew how to react, the boy kissed her on the lips. A million thoughts ran through Sabrina’s head at once. Puck was annoying. He had dumped her in vats of disgusting glop. He’d put creepy crawlers in her bed. But the most awful thought of them all was the one about the kiss—it was nice.

  The two separated and stared at each other for a long time. Puck grinned and broke the silence. “I believe the words you are searching for are thank you.”

  And then Sabrina punched him in the belly.

  Puck hunched over, gasping for breath.

  “You try that again, you little freak, and you’re going to need a dentist,” Sabrina shouted. She turned and stomped back down the path. “We’re going out with Uncle Jake. Granny says you have to go. We’re waiting in the car!”

  Sabrina found the door to Puck’s room, opened it, and slammed it behind her. She leaned against the wood, feeling hot embarrassment on her face. Ever since she had started noticing boys, she had dreamed about her first kiss. She had imagined it would occur on the beach or in a flower garden with a nice boy who really liked her. She had never once, not even in her worst nightmares, thought the boy would be Puck. She couldn’t believe her first kiss had been from a dirty, smelly Everafter surrounded by a bunch of screaming chimpanzee pyromaniacs.

  She rushed to the bathroom to see if her face looked different. Would anyone be able to tell what she and Puck had just done? She turned the water on, ran some soap over a washcloth, and scrubbed her face. When she was finished, her skin was as raw as when she had tried to scrub off Puck’s mustache and goatee. She still looked flushed and embarrassed.

  By the time Sabrina got back downstairs, Daphne was tapping her foot by the door.

  “Where’s Puck?” the little girl asked.

  “He’s coming,” Sabrina said as she snatched her coat from the closet.

  “Did you two kiss and make up?” Daphne asked.

  Though she couldn’t see it, Sabrina was sure her face was as red as a tomato. “C’mon, Uncle Jake is waiting,” she said and hurried outside with Daphne at her heels.

  Uncle Jake was leaning against the family’s rusty old jalopy. It hadn’t moved an inch since Mr. Canis had died.

  Puck came out of the house to join them, and when the boy fairy got close enough, Uncle Jake extended his hand. “Glad to have you along, Puck,” he said sincerely.

  The boy sneered at the man and crawled into the backseat of the car. The girls followed and the ancient car’s shock absorbers groaned with complaint. Seeing Uncle Jake behind the wheel where Mr. Canis usually sat was strange to Sabrina. But when Uncle Jake inserted the key something even stranger happened—the car didn’t backfire. Every other time the girls had been in the car, it had started with an ear-shattering explosion that could be heard across town. Now it rumbled softly like a brand-new automobile. Sabrina saw her own surprise reflected in her sister’s face.

  “How did you do that?” Daphne said.

  “I have a way with women,” Uncle Jake said, caressing the dusty dashboard. “Besides, this is my car. I left it here when I skipped town. Your father and I got into a lot of trouble in this car.”

  He put the car in reverse and backed it out into the street, and soon they were tooling through the back roads of Ferryport Landing. What Sabrina had always thought of as the world’s dullest town took on a whole new light when her uncle talked about it. Every mailbox, abandoned house, graffiti-covered bridge, and broken window had a story. The more the girls heard, the more it became clear that Uncle Jake and their straight-laced father had been first-class juvenile delinquents. As interesting as all the stories were, Sabrina found herself especially interested in the ones that had a magical element; the boys had cast a gigantic spell on the Three Blind Mice and watched them stagger around the town, they had poured a rusting potion onto the Tin Woodsman, and even found a way to give the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe and her thousand kids athlete’s foot. Jake and her father had done it all.

  Which made Puck’s dislike of her uncle all the more puzzling. After all, the two had so much in common. Uncle Jake’s stories were filled with mischief, but Puck was clearly unimpressed. He sat in the backseat, with his arms crossed, acting as if he weren’t paying attention.

  Sabrina and Daphne, on the other hand, had a wonderful time. Even the “A VOTE FOR HEART IS A VOTE FOR CHANGE” signs that had sprung up all over town couldn’t cast a shadow on the trip.

  After a couple hours of sightseeing, Uncle Jake made a turn that led up to the mountains. They drove for some time, then made a left on an abandoned gravel path and parked the car near a clearing.

  “What are we doing here?” Daphne asked as everyone got out of the car.

  “I have to admit that this walk down memory lane was all just a trick to get you girls out of the house,” Uncle Jake replied, leading the children to the center of the open field. “Mom doesn’t want you two messing with the stuff in the Hall of Wonders, but I have a few goodies of my own. I’m going to teach you to use some of them. Puck, would you like to learn something, too?”

  Puck sneered. “I know all I’m gonna.”

  Uncle Jake dug in his pockets and produced his Wand of Merlin. He handed it to Daphne but she refused to take it.

  Her uncle was surprised. “Wouldn’t you like to have something that you can use to save your mom and dad and keep you and your sister safe? Your grandmother never has to know.”

  Daphne shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  Uncle Jake frowned and handed the wand to Sabrina. As soon as she touched it she felt the familiar charge run through her body. It was exhilarating.

  “Looks like you’re going to be the hero of this family. OK, the name of the game with a magic wand is control. You want to be able to aim and concentrate all at once ’cause the thing about monsters is they don’t wait until you’re ready. So every time you point this thing, know what you want or someone could get hurt.”

  Sabrina nodded, doing her best to avoid Daphne’s disapproving glare.

  “So you’ve seen how it works for garland and tinsel,” Uncle Jake said. “Let’s try something with a little more punch. Let’s pretend those trees over there are the Jabberwocky. We need something really big to knock a Jabberwocky down. It could be anything, but let’s try lightning. To get some lightning, think about the worst thunderstorm you’ve ever seen, a really scary one with fierce wind and rain.”

  Sabrina closed her eyes to imagine the scenario and immediately remembered the night after her parents had disappeared. There had been a terrible thunderstorm right outside of their apartment windows. The girls had slept in their mom and dad’s bed, hoping they’d come home soon. They never did.

  “Now aim and say, ‘Gimme some lightning.’”

  When Sabrina opened her eyes, that same thunderstorm was building in the sky above her. There was static energy in the air that caused the hair on her arms to rise. She felt supercharged, like she was filled with enough power to do anything she could imagine, like there was nothing that could hurt her. All of her fears and worries about Red Riding Hood and the Jabberwocky faded away and for the first time in a year and a half she felt calm and confident. It was a sensation so incredible she wondered if there was a way to feel it all the time.

  In an instant, a bolt of lightning plummeted to the earth and crashed into the bank of trees. They disappeared for a moment in a flash of brilliant white light, which was followed by an earth-shaking boom! When it was over, the trees were cracked in half. Many were on fire.

  “Nice shot, kiddo,” Uncle Jake said. “I think you’re a natural.”

  “Could lightning kill the Jabberwocky?” Sabrina asked. She imagined unleashing the wand’s power on the monster and smiled.

  “It won’t kill it,” Uncle Jake
said. “But it would knock the ugly sucker off its feet, hopefully long enough to get your parents back.”

  Just then, one of Puck’s pixie minions zipped across the field. It stopped at Puck’s ear and buzzed excitedly. Puck’s eyes lit up and his wings popped out of his back.

  “There’s someone in the woods watching us,” he said, as he lifted off the ground.

  “Looks like we’re going to get a bit more practice,” Uncle Jake said to the girls. “Come on!”

  They all raced toward the forest and plunged into its thick brush. Sabrina quickly caught a glimpse of someone running far ahead—a man. His speed was superhuman, and she watched him leap effortlessly over a downed tree. Before they could get a good look at him, he was gone.

  “I’m going to follow him,” Puck shouted, zipping into the woods.

  “Be careful!” Sabrina shouted.

  “And what would be the fun in that?” the boy said and disappeared into the forest.

  “He’s just dumb enough to confront that guy,” Sabrina said.

  “Naw, he wouldn’t fight unless he had an audience. He’ll be fine,” Daphne said.

  “I hate to admit it, but he’s a lot like your dad and me,” Uncle Jake said. “I can see why Mom and you love him so much.”

  “Love him? I don’t love him. He’s a pain in the butt!” Sabrina shouted, a bit louder than she meant to.

  The group waited an hour and a half before they gave up on Puck. The boy could always fly home, so they got into the old car without him and cruised back down to the town. As they passed a diner, Uncle Jake slammed on the brakes and abruptly pulled into the parking lot.

  “This place is the best!” he cried.

  Sabrina had spotted the Blue Plate Special several times since they had moved to Ferryport Landing. It was right next door to the Ferryport Landing Post Office and had a neon sign of a grinning waitress holding a bright-blue tray of burgers and shakes. It was the kind of place her parents would have taken them to after a movie or a visit to the Central Park Zoo. Just looking at the sign made Sabrina’s mouth water for the kind of old-fashioned egg cream her father had gotten her addicted to. That and a plate of cheese fries was a meal made for a king, even if it was made by witches and ogres. Granny had told her the Blue Plate Special diner employed a lot of Everafters.

  The inside of the restaurant was decorated for the holiday season, with little Christmas trees painted on the windows and long strands of garland hanging from the ceiling. There were booths along a bank of windows, personal juke boxes at each table, and a counter at the front where people drank coffee and read the newspaper. A dessert case in the corner spun slowly, tempting diners with cheesecake dripping in strawberry sauce and chocolate parfaits. Overworked waitresses rushed from table to table, refilling coffees and shouting their odd diner-speak to the short-order cooks in the kitchen. The place smelled like hamburgers and mashed potatoes, and Sabrina knew everything would taste a little like chicken. She was in heaven.

  At a table at the far end of the restaurant sat Mr. Swineheart and Mr. Boarman. They set down their coffee cups and waved to the group. The girls waved back and then slid into a booth near the door with Uncle Jake. They each snatched a menu from behind the ketchup caddy and scanned it eagerly.

  “I swear I’m going to eat everything on this menu,” Daphne said. “Who wants onion rings?”

  Uncle Jake didn’t respond. He gazed around the room, looking depressed.

  “Uncle Jake?” Sabrina said.

  “We used to come here when I was a kid. Hank and I would collect old soda bottles and take them to Tweedledee and Tweedledum’s convenience store for the deposits. Then we’d head over here and drink chocolate malteds all day. This was our booth. That waitress at the door—she owns this place. We used to drive her nuts, but she doesn’t even recognize me. That man at the counter—he’s the Scarecrow. He runs the town library. I owe him probably forty dollars in late fees. Over in that booth at the end of the table is the Cheshire Cat—we once watched a pit bull chase him up a tree. The fire department had to come and get him down. He called us a couple of ‘no-good hooligans’ for laughing at him.”

  Sabrina turned around. The man Uncle Jake was referring to was studying his menu. He had the biggest eyes and grin Sabrina had ever seen outside of a cartoon.

  “But I’ve been erased.” Uncle Jake sighed.

  “What did you do?” Sabrina said.

  He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Something very, very stupid.”

  “How y’all doin’?” a waitress said as she bopped over to the table with a note pad and pencil in hand. She had a big out-of-date hairdo, bright-pink lipstick, and a name tag that read FARRAH. “What can I getcha?” she said, between chomps on her bubble gum.

  “I’ll have a grilled cheese with bacon and tomato,” Uncle Jake said. “You still make those fantastic chocolate malteds?”

  “You bet we do,” Farrah said. “Sounds like you’ve been here before.”

  “A couple times.” Uncle Jake sighed again.

  “And what about you, honey?” Farrah said, turning to Sabrina. Waitresses in Manhattan were always calling her “honey.” It made her a little homesick.

  Sabrina read her order straight from the menu. “Cheeseburger, medium, cheese fries with a side of brown gravy, an egg cream, and . . .”

  “What’cha lookin’ for, darlin’?” Farrah asked.

  “Oh, I wish you had blueberry cobbler. There was a diner near our apartment that specialized in it. Most restaurants don’t make it.”

  “Well, we do.” Farrah pointed to the bottom of the menu. Sabrina could have sworn it hadn’t been there before but at the end of the dessert list was BLUEBERRY COBBLER in black and white.

  “Looks like you’ve got the four major food groups covered,” the waitress said with a playful wink. “How about you, short stuff?”

  “I want chicken wings, some macaroni and cheese, and jalapeño poppers,” Daphne said.

  Farrah jotted it down.

  “Then, for my main course, I would like one of these overstuffed Reuben sandwiches with extra Thousand Island dressing, a side of tater tots, a black-and-white milkshake, and a cherry vanilla Dr Pepper.”

  “Sweetie, there’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that.” Farrah laughed.

  “Oh, she’ll eat it,” Sabrina said. “Back home they call her ‘The Stomach.’”

  “Save me a slice of cheesecake, too,” Daphne added after she’d stuck out her tongue at her sister.

  Farrah laughed, shoved her pencil behind her ear, and dashed to the back with the order.

  Suddenly, the door jingled and a crowd of people entered the diner. Leading them was the Queen of Hearts and Sheriff Nottingham. The queen called out a hello to everyone, while members of her entourage handed out “VOTE FOR HEART” buttons. The queen and the sheriff went from table to table, shaking hands with people and asking for votes. Sabrina frowned, knowing it was just a matter of time before they got to their table.

  “Maybe we should leave,” she said.

  “Leave?” Daphne gasped. “Do you know how long it has been since I had chicken wings?”

  “No, this will be fun,” Uncle Jake said, just as Mrs. Heart and Nottingham reached their table. Without even looking, the queen took Uncle Jake’s hand and shook it vigorously while her handlers pinned campaign buttons on the girls without bothering to ask if it was OK.

  “Hello everyone, my name is Heart and I’m running for mayor of Ferryport Landing,” the woman said.

  “Hello, your majesty,” Uncle Jake said with a mischievous grin.

  The queen’s eyes quickly darted to their uncle’s face and immediately flared with rage.

  “You!” she cried, yanking her hand away as if she had just put it inside a hornet’s nest.

  “Us,” Daphne said.

  “How is the campaign going?” Uncle Jake asked.

  “It’s going just fine, thank you.” Mrs. Heart seethed. “Your assault on the commu
nity yesterday only helped get my point across. There’s not enough room in this town for Everafters and Grimms.”

  “What an inspiring message of hope,” Uncle Jake replied.

  Sheriff Nottingham limped over and grabbed Jake by the collar. He pulled him close to his angry face and barked, “Laugh now, boy, but when we’re running this town, I promise you I will personally squash your filthy vermin family under my boot heels.”

  “Take your hands off my uncle,” Sabrina said.

  Nottingham snarled. “Shut your gob, child, or I’ll smack it off your face.”

  “What does gob mean?” Daphne asked.

  Sabrina shrugged, reached into her pocket, took out the wand, and aimed it at the sheriff.

  “Do you know what this is?” she asked.

  Nottingham stared at the wand. “I don’t have the foggiest,” he growled.

  “It’s the Wand of Merlin,” Sabrina said as she watched fear flash in Nottingham’s eyes. Sabrina smiled, but inside she struggled with an overwhelming urge to zap the man with a shot of lightning.

  “You’re bluffing,” Nottingham said.

  “Is she?” Uncle Jake said.

  Nottingham slowly let Jake go and stepped back from the table, but Sabrina kept pointing the wand at him. She had power for once and it felt good to let the bad guys know it.

  Just then, there was an enormous thump that knocked the ketchup bottle off the table. It was followed by another, the source of which seemed to be outside. Everyone turned to look out at the parking lot where a car suddenly flipped over and went flying into another. A moment later a second car got the same destructive treatment.

  Farrah returned with a tray of food and set the edge of it on the table. “Chow time!” she sang cheerily but her voice trailed off when she saw the destruction through the window. “Oh, my.”

  “What is that, Nottingham?” the queen demanded.

  The would-be sheriff pointed out the window. “I think it’s her.”

  Little Red Riding Hood came into view. She skipped through the parking lot like a happy schoolgirl, holding a leash, on the end of which walked her monstrous, reptilian playmate. The two demented creatures were coming straight for the diner.