The Glitter Trap

by Barbara Brauner

  “Then let me just change some of them! We can do the play with five or six people!”

  “You’ve already cast the spell. They’ll be like this till midnight.”

  I look over at the kids. They may not be throwing up, but they’re not going to be acting or singing or dancing anytime soon.

  I feel like screaming. We were so close! I planned for everything but a poisoned protein shake!

  To add insult to injury, Seymour the squirrel runs out onto a tree limb and starts chattering at me. I’ve had all I can take. “Shut up, Seymour!” I shout. “I’m sorry you hate me, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Do you hear me? Nothing!”

  He just keeps chattering. I’m sure if I could understand squirrel I would be really insulted right now. As he sits on the branch, he looks almost human.

  “Hmmmm…” I say. “Seymour would make a wonderful prince. What do you think?”

  I’m a little surprised when Katarina nods yes. “My thought exactly!”

  Sunny is worried. “Wait—you’re going to change him into a prince? But he hates you!”

  I say, “We talked about it in the bathroom, remember? Katarina said that as long as the spell lasts, the animals forget they’re animals and think they’re humans.”

  “I don’t have to kiss him, do I?” Paige asks. “I don’t want to kiss a squirrel!”

  “No, you don’t have to kiss him,” I say.

  Katarina says, “Here’s the spell: ‘On count of three, Cinderella’s prince you shall be.’”

  As I fish the wand out of my pocket, Sunny still looks worried. “But he won’t know his part!” she says.

  Katarina shrugs. “He’ll think he’s really a prince and that Paige is really Cinderella. It’s method acting at its finest.”

  I point the wand at Seymour and chant, “On count of three, Cinderella’s prince you shall be. One, two, three!”

  WHUMP!

  A handsome prince falls out of the tree and lands at Paige’s feet. He looks up at her and says, “Hello, peasant girl. I don’t know you, but something in you speaks to my very soul.” Paige looks totally grossed out when he takes her hand and starts kissing it.

  Okay, we have a prince! I turn back to Sunny, Paige, and Katarina. “Who else do we absolutely have to have?”

  Paige says, “The evil stepmother. And the stepsisters. And the fairy godmother.”

  I tell Paige and Sunny, “Take him inside. I’ll be there in a minute with the rest of the actors.”

  Not very long after that, I run backstage carrying a cage full of white mice from Mr. Carver’s science classroom. Sunny, Katarina, and Paige are peering through the curtain at the impatient audience.

  “I’m back!” I say. “Where’s the prince?”

  Paige points offstage to a storage closet where the prince is turning a light on and off, fascinated. “What’s he doing?” I ask.

  “He thinks the light is magic,” Sunny says. “He won’t stop.”

  “Good!”

  I get busy with the wand and turn one of the mice into the tall, thin, evil stepmother, who screeches at Paige to get back to work cleaning. Next, I turn another mouse into the first ugly stepsister, who orders Paige to brush her hair.

  Tossing the spell at a third mouse, I say, “On count of three, Cinderella’s stepsister you shall be. One, two, three!”

  The mouse grows up and up and up into the other stepsister. She’s half-human, but she’s also half-mouse, with watery pink eyes, white whiskers, and a long, long tail. I know the stepsisters are supposed to be ugly, but she’s ugly.

  I ask Katarina, “What’s wrong with her?”

  “You’re out of magic.”

  “That can happen?”

  “Yes, when you’re new. It never happened to me, mind you. But it can happen.”

  “But I can’t be out of magic! We still need a fairy godmother for the play!”

  Katarina smiles at me. “I’m looking at one right now!”

  I turn, hoping that Chloe Martin has stumbled back in. And then I realize what Katarina’s thinking. “No! I can’t do it! I’ll throw up, and there’s already been too much of that!”

  On the other side of the curtain, the audience claps and chants, “Start the play! Start the play!”

  Yikes.

  I go outside and nudge Chloe Martin. “Chloe! Chloe! You’ve got to go on!” She just groans and turns away. So I take her cloak and wand. Thank goodness I didn’t have beanie weenies for dinner.

  As I rush back toward the auditorium, I trip over one of the other green-faced kids.

  Oh, crud! This is why tonight’s whole plan won’t work. There are a dozen sick kids back here, and every one of them has family members in the audience who will wonder why they’re not onstage. I can’t exactly make an announcement that they’re sick in the parking lot.

  What am I going to do?

  This is what I do:

  The curtain rises, and a dozen green, groggy kids lie in a pile at the back of the stage. Paige, in her “before” costume, sweeps around them and complains, “The other servants are so lazy I have to do all the work!” To my relief, this gets a laugh from the audience. One problem solved!

  I push the evil stepfamily out onto the stage, and they instantly surround Paige and demand that she cook and sew and clean. Frankly, it’s better dialogue than what Mr. Griffith wrote. Paige sings her first song and manages to wow the audience even with the stepfamily shouting, “Why are you singing? Get to work!”

  It’s a lot harder to get the stepfamily offstage. Sunny, who’s doing all the stage-crew work, finally says, “Hark! The king’s messenger needs to talk to you in private!”

  They fall for it.

  I’m shaking in my shoes, but I go out and sing the fairy-godmother song anyway. I don’t throw up, but my British accent sucks.

  Then Paige walks behind a cupboard dressed in rags and comes out wearing the diamond dress, which sparkles like a million stars. Wow, just wow. I made the dress, and even I can’t believe how beautiful it is. The audience applauds and whistles for what seems like forever.

  Next comes the ball scene. Paige and Seymour the prince waltz around the stage like…like…something out of a fairy tale. Her dress catches the light and throws it back into the auditorium, which suddenly seems full of dancing fireflies. I’ve never heard this many ooohs and aaahs from a crowd.

  Katarina, hovering near me, makes the longest ooooooooooh of all, and then says, “Glur! GLURRRRRRRR!” Hypnotized by the sparkling light, she flies out into the auditorium, her butterfly wings spread their widest and most beautiful. People in the audience look up at her and point—a couple of kids even make a grab for her. But she just keeps reaching for the sparkling light. “Glitterrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” she says.

  I sprint out into the auditorium and say in my best fairy-godmother voice, “No! You cannot make them all sleep for a hundred years! That is another story!” and then ensnare Katarina in my silk cloak. The audience is confused for a moment, but then they applaud, thinking it’s all a special effect.

  The waltz ends, and Paige runs away, leaving a slipper behind on the stage. Just like he’s supposed to, the prince grabs the slipper and runs after her. And then Sunny and I lock him in the storage closet.

  So far, so good. It’s actually been kind of fun, though Katarina is cranky about almost getting caught in a glitter trap again. When this is all over, I’m going to buy her a pair of sunglasses.

  Sunny pulls a rope to change the backdrop from the ballroom to Cinderella’s kitchen, and the stepmother and stepsisters look around in a daze. “This is so confusing!” the stepmother finally says. “How did we get back in the kitchen?”

  Offstage, I open the storage-closet door and find the prince sitting on the floor talking to the glass slipper. “Where are you, my darling?” he’s murmuring.

  I point toward the stage. “She’s out that way!” He rushes past me so fast he almost knocks me down.

  As he runs onto the stage, th
e stepsisters tackle him and throw him to the ground. The first stepsister shouts, “I’ve got him! He’s mine!” And the second stepsister shouts, “No, I’ve got him!” The girls roll around on the ground clawing at each other, which gives the prince time to crawl away and finally reach Cinderella.

  He puts the slipper on Paige’s foot and says, “My darling, I have found you! Let the happily-ever-after begin!” He tries to give her a big, sloppy kiss, but Paige manages to slip away from him to sing the big finale. It’s a rock version of “I Lost My Shoe” that’s been changed into “I Found My Shoe and You!”

  If I do say so myself, Paige’s voice is awesome. She wails, she belts, she trills—in other words, she kicks butt. This is the moment she’s been dreaming of. She’s the biggest star that our school has ever had.

  Paige ends the song on one amazing note that starts low and slowly rises to an impossibly high, perfect sound that hangs in the air like a jewel. We all listen breathlessly, not wanting it to end.

  And then she leans up and kisses the prince—I guess she’s either forgotten he’s a squirrel or she’s ignoring it. Either way, it’s a moment so beautiful that I almost cry.

  I finally remember to motion to Sunny to lower the curtain and end the play. There’s complete silence from the audience. I have a split second of fear: did they not like it after all?

  But then the entire audience rises to its feet, clapping and cheering and whistling and calling out Paige’s name.

  Sunny high-fives me. “You did it! You did it!”

  Katarina says, “Excuse me; we did it!”

  Sunny raises the curtain again for the cast members to take their bows. The food-poisoning kids are still in a green heap, and the animal-humans are wandering around the stage aimlessly (the second stepsister is even chewing on her dress like it’s dinner). But it doesn’t matter, because all eyes are on Paige, standing at center stage and glowing with happiness.

  As the roars of approval continue, Paige scans the audience, looking at every single seat. And her happiness drains away like water from a bathtub.

  Katarina stiffens. “Uh-oh.”

  “What, uh-oh?” I say.

  “That is not the face of a girl who just had her dream come true.”

  “Sure it is!”

  “Trust me. I’ve been fairy godmother to six thousand, three hundred and twelve girls, and I know the dream-come-true face. And that’s not it.”

  “But that means…” I break out in a cold sweat. I know exactly what that means. It means no dream for Paige, no dream for me, and a lifetime of dryerdom for Katarina. I say, “We’ve done everything she wanted!”

  Suddenly, Mr. Griffith staggers onto the stage, still looking sick. He pushes in front of Paige, who seems perfectly happy to give up the spotlight. She walks into the wings with the prince following her like a puppy and the evil stepfamily close behind.

  Mr. Griffith, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, says to the audience, “Thank you, thank you! I’ve been near death for the past few hours, but there is no greater balm than the sweet sound of your applause. So I have dragged myself away from the abyss of illness long enough to acknowledge your love. I am glad my little opus has moved and delighted you.” He clutches his stomach, about to hurl again, but he manages to control it. He sits down on the edge of the stage near the Mellowtones, who all scoot further back in their chairs. “This evening is such a triumph that I feel compelled to acknowledge all the little people who have helped me along the way. Thank you to my preschool teacher, Miss Petrie, who was the first to see that I had talent. Kudos must also go to my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Stone, who introduced me to the Bard. I had occasional clashes of temperament with my second-grade teacher, Mrs. Brandenberg, but there is no art without conflict.…” He drones on and on and on, but the audience is too polite to get up and leave.

  Backstage, the prince clings to Paige, all kissy-face, while she simultaneously checks her text messages and tries to push him away. Unfazed, he says, “But, my love! I want to kiss you a thousand times while we plan our wedding!”

  I tell him, “Go sit in the corner, and make a list of everyone you want to invite!”

  The prince, happy to be given a job, scurries into the corner and starts list-making: “We must invite the Queen of England; Albert of Monaco; Her Majesty, Queen Sirikit of Thailand; Queen Latifah…” Not too shabby.

  Paige keeps looking at her cell phone unhappily.

  “Is everything all right?” I ask.

  Instead of answering, she holds up her phone to show me a text: Delayed with paperwork. Will be home around 10. Dad.

  What a jerk, I think. My dad would have walked over broken glass to see me in this play. But I’m not going to say that out loud.

  “What a jerk!” Katarina says. Out loud.

  I wince, but Paige says, “It’s true. He’s a big jerk who doesn’t care about me at all. Nothing I do matters to him!” She bursts into tears, and Sunny and I both hug her.

  “It’s going to be all right,” I say.

  Katarina shakes her head. “No, it’s not. We’re doomed. One hundred and ten percent doomed. What a fiasco! I’ve successfully made dreams come true for six thousand, three hundred and twelve girls. I got the fairy-godmother-of-the-year award for seventy-two years running. Now it’s over, done, kaput!” Katarina sits on my shoulder, buries her head in my hair, and sobs.

  When Sunny starts crying, too, I know this is the saddest moment of my life. One more second, and I’m going to start bawling myself.

  But I don’t.

  I pull away from the hug. “You guys, stop crying right now. I mean it! Stop crying!”

  They look at me through teary eyes.

  “We’re not giving up yet! There’s three hours till midnight. Paige’s dream is to have her dad see her in the play. If he won’t come to the play, we’ll take the play to him.”

  Katarina says, “We can’t do that! You don’t have any magic left!”

  “We’ve got Paige. We’ve got the actors.” I point at the prince and the stepfamily. “We’ve still got the costumes. We can put on the play again at Paige’s house.”

  Sunny asks, “You think that will work?”

  “Sure it will!”

  Honestly, I’m not sure at all. But it’s our only chance.

  When I go out to the auditorium to talk to Mom and Dad, Mr. Griffith is still sitting on the stage thanking people: “And I can’t forget Stacey Sniderman at Camp Entertainus, who gave me the lead in Annie despite the controversy, truly proving that the sun will come out tomorrow. Also in that fabulous cast were Nathan Wallace, Alison Chatsworth, Carlos Jimenez, and…”

  I crawl over a couple of parents who are so bored they’re just about sleeping in their chairs and reach Mom. “Lacey! You were wonderful!” she whispers. “You didn’t tell us you were going to be in the play!”

  Dad leans over: “I got it all on my iPhone.”

  And Madison says, too loudly, “Make that green man stop talking, Lacey!” There are snickers all around and a “You said it!” from a bored-looking guy behind us.

  I whisper, “Paige is having a slumber party to celebrate the play. Can I go? Please? Sunny’s going.”

  Dad whispers back, “I’ll let you go if you make that man stop talking.”

  Mom giggles and says, “Sure you can. Don’t stay up too late.”

  Mr. Griffith seems to have finished his speech, and a couple of people start clapping. He gives them a dirty look and continues, “Now, on to the college years!”

  Dad groans.

  Katarina flutters ahead as Sunny, Paige, and I walk toward Paige’s house with the prince and the stepfamily right behind us. The prince is happy just to be near Paige, but the stepmother and stepsisters have been complaining for the past ten minutes: “Where’s our carriage!” “Find a peasant and confiscate his horse!” “I hate walking!”

  Paige says, “I love walking!”

  The love-struck prince eagerly bobs his head in a
greement. “I love walking, too, dearest!”

  The stepsister with the tail hears this and plasters a smile on her face. “I adore walking!” This sets off another round of comments as each of them tries to outdo the others about how she loves walking more than anything in the world.

  Katarina can’t take any more. “Shut up! One more word out of any of you and I’ll turn you into toads!” I know she can’t do it, but they don’t. They all shrink away from her and clamp their mouths shut.

  So, for a moment it is quiet as we walk in the cool, clear night. Then: ROWF! ROWF! ROWF! A dog lunges at me from behind a picket fence. It’s Barnaby, who seems to have thought about things in the past few days and decided he hates me even more than he did before. ROWF! ROWF! ROWF! We pass the house, but the sound of the barking follows us.

  Dogs all over the neighborhood start barking, too, as if Barnaby had been warning them that there was a monster named Lacey in town. I don’t know what I’m going to do if we don’t get Paige her dream come true. I don’t want to be treated like a monster by every animal I meet; I really don’t.

  Sunny seems to know how I’m feeling and squeezes my hand. “Your plan is going to work,” she says.

  I sure hope so.

  It’s a quarter past nine when Paige unlocks the door to her house.

  The prince tells her, “What a charming hovel you have, my dear. If you like, we can have it moved into the west wing of my castle. Our castle.”

  Katarina snorts, “Castles are overrated.”

  Feeling like a general commanding her troops, I say, “Everybody, focus! We’ve only got half an hour until Paige’s dad gets home. The living room already has a fireplace, so let’s set up there.”

  Katarina supervises as Sunny, Paige, and I move things around. The prince tries to be helpful but just gets in the way, and the stepfamily doesn’t even try. So we move them all into the kitchen and distract them with microwave popcorn. When I pull out the bag, they think I’m a fairy godmother with great powers. Microwave popcorn is pretty magical, if you think about it.