Toby barks and scratches at the door. When I let him in, he immediately starts licking up the mess on the floor. “No, Toby!” I shout. I grab him by the collar and drag him back into the hall. He can come in again after I’ve cleaned up—whenever that is.
Things get back to normal at school after that. Well, as normal as things can be after everything that happened. Sam and I don’t become friends again, but we’re not enemies either. I’m not mean to her and she’s not mean to me. We just don’t talk much except to say hi. As far as I know, she never told anyone about our voodoo adventure.
I was a little afraid that Madison would get bored with me after we solved our voodoo problem, but we actually become better friends. We sit together at lunch, sometimes with other people from the play. When we’re waiting to practice our Healthyland scenes, she tells me about the latest science fiction book she’s reading and I make her laugh by drawing pictures of the characters she describes. We go to each other’s houses to hang out on the weekends. Hers is big and glamorous with way more rooms than her family needs. I like it there because we can practice Spanish with her nanny, but I don’t like the healthy snacks she has to eat. I teach her Pig Mania and explain how Terri introduced us to the game but hasn’t come back for it since she broke up with Dad. Madison and I also talk a lot about how I want Terri and Dad to get back together. I want to figure out a way, and Madison wants to help, but we’re having a hard time because they’re grown-ups. Their lives are different from ours. Plus, we don’t know much about love and romance. But we’re always thinking.
At rehearsal one day, I ask Madison’s opinion on inviting Terri to the play. She says it’s a great idea, so that night I sit at my desk in my pajamas, with Toby at my feet and Millie by my side in his terrarium. I know it should be an easy text to write, but I don’t know exactly what to say.
Hi Terri, this is Cleo. Remember me? I decide that sounds dumb. Delete.
Hi Terri, I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately. Too serious. Delete.
Hi Terri, I’m sorry I didn’t write before but I hope you might still be my friend. At that moment, Dad sticks his head in my room. Delete, delete, delete!
“Okay if I come in?” he asks. “It’s almost time for bed.”
“Yeah, I was just finishing up something,” I say, tossing down my phone and jumping into my sheets.
“Wow, I’ve never seen you go to bed that quickly,” Dad says, laughing. He’s about to turn off my light, but I stop him. There’s been something on my mind for a long time now, ever since I told Madison about our hexes. And after trying to write that text tonight, I decide this is the time.
“Dad, can I tell you something?”
“Of course, kiddo.”
“You might want to sit down.”
“Oh,” Dad says, still sounding jokey. “It’s something serious!” He sits at the bottom of my bed, and I guess when he sees my face he realizes I really am serious. His voice changes. “What is it, Cleo?”
I gulp. I take a breath. I gulp again. It’s time.
“Remember that voodoo doll Uncle Arnie sent me?”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen it lately,” he says, looking around my room.
“I got rid of it,” I say. “It was doing bad things.” I think about that, and though it’s hard, I say the truth. “I was doing bad things.”
Dad doesn’t laugh or say I’m being silly, and I’m glad. “Like what?” he asks.
I decide to skip what happened to Madison and go right to the things Dad would understand. “Well, one time Samantha and I cast a spell, and Toby got skunked the next day,” I tell him. “I mean, we didn’t hex Toby to get skunked—we were trying to do something good for ourselves, but we made a mistake and used his hair. So you had to lock him in the laundry room, which kept you two apart.”
Now he does laugh, but I know he’s not being mean. “Well, first of all, I told you not to play with that voodoo doll.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” And I really am.
“But second of all, it’s not real, Cleo. Dogs get skunked all the time in this neighborhood. And it’ll probably happen again to Toby, God forbid, even with no voodoo doll around.”
“I knew you were going to say that,” I tell him. “But the other one is much worse.”
“What else did you do?” he asks, and I can tell he’s not expecting anything more serious than the dog smelling bad for a day.
“Terri’s car accident…,” I start to say, but I can’t finish. My throat is closing up and I’m feeling tears in my eyes.
“Oh, honey,” Dad says. He slides up closer to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t tell me you think you caused Terri’s accident.”
“I did!” I say. I’m crying, which I hate—don’t like—but I can’t help it. Then I let it all out. “Sam and I wanted to be sisters and we thought if you liked her mom you might get married, so we wanted you and Terri to be apart. And now you are! I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” I have to turn away from him and put my head in my pillow because I’m crying so hard.
Dad spends a couple of minutes rubbing my back and saying, “Cleo” and “Honey” and “It’s okay.” But it’s not.
When I get tired and quiet down, he tells me to turn around.
“Cleo, there are lots of reasons Terri and I are apart right now. Our problems were there before your voodoo doll ever showed up at our house. And maybe she and I will work it out someday, but I don’t want you ever—ever—to think it was your fault.”
“But—” I say. He stops me.
“A car accident can happen to anyone. And my breakup with Terri was not your fault either. Not in any way whatsoever. You have to tell me that you hear me. That you understand.”
“But—” I say again.
“Butts are for cigarettes,” he says.
I smile a little. “Butts are for panda bears,” I tell him.
“Butts are for rhinoceroses,” he says.
“You know what butts aren’t for?” I ask.
“What?”
“Millipedes!”
“You’re right!” He laughs and stands up from my bed. “Do you feel a little better now?”
“A little,” I say.
“You’ll remember everything I said, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Don’t guess. None of this was your fault. Okay?”
I’m not sure I completely believe him, but I still say, “Okay.”
He turns off my light and closes the door. I wait until I hear his footsteps far down the hallway. Then I sneak out of bed and grab my phone. I hear the sound of the TV in the living room, so I know Dad won’t discover me. Once I pull up my messages, I type my text.
Hi Terri. I hope you’re feeling better. And I hope you’ll come see my play this Friday night at 7:00 p.m. at Friendship Community School. I’m a tree, but it’s really better than it sounds. Love, your friend, Cleo
That’s good enough.
Three weeks after the Great Destruction of the Voodoo Doll (as Madison and I call it), it’s the opening night of Healthyland. It’s actually the only night of Healthyland, but “opening night” sounds more glamorous.
Backstage, the adrenaline is running inside everyone. And though we’re supposed to stay backstage, I can’t help peeking through the curtain to look at the people getting settled into the rows of folding chairs. Madison’s parents are both looking at their phones, not talking to each other, but at least they’re there. It’s easy to spot Dad, of course, even though he’s looking down and reading something in his lap. I can’t blame him for reading, though; he has no one to sit with. A few rows behind him, on the opposite side of the auditorium, I see Sam and her mom. That’s interesting. When I said hello to Sam at school today, she didn’t mention she was coming.
Roberta shouts, “Places, please!” and I take one last look around the auditorium. I’m glad I do, because I see some red hair moving in the back row. Terri must have just walked in!
There’s no bandage on her face, but it looks like she has a cast on her wrist. She didn’t write back to my text, but I’m so glad she got it. Seeing her makes me even more excited to be The Tree tonight!
It’s hard to describe the show. It’s almost like a dream. I remember laughing with people (quietly) as they came backstage after playing their parts. I sort of remember being onstage and saying my five lines:
“I am the mighty, leafy guardian of the forest.”
“I give shade, I give oxygen, and,” I said, raising my arms, “I grow and grow.”
“Like rock and mountain, I will not move.”
When we were rehearsing, I didn’t understand that line, because trees can move sometimes. So Roberta let me add two other lines that I wrote myself. “I will not move…unless I fall down in a storm or tornado or someone cuts me down and takes me somewhere. Then I might become a porch or a tree fort.”
It’s fun to hear people laugh at that. And when I run offstage, Madison gives me a hug, then Larry does, and Roberta too. Other kids pat me on the shoulder or say “Good job.”
The show feels like it goes by way faster than the hour it really takes to perform. At the end, we all go onstage together and bow in a long line. The lights in my eyes are too bright to see individual people, but I can hear the applause and see that the audience is standing.
Afterward we go into the auditorium lobby, where there are cookies and lemonade for everyone. Before Madison goes over to her parents, she nudges me, points toward my dad, and says, “Uh-oh.” He’s talking to Sam and her mom. “You’d better go break that up.”
I say goodbye to Madison and walk over to Dad, Sam, and Paige. They stop talking when I get there.
“Hey,” says Sam.
“Hey,” I say back.
And that’s it. A moment later, Samantha’s mom interrupts this great conversation. “Sam, honey, I’m going to head out to the car. Come out when you’re done talking to Cleo, okay?” Sam nods.
“I’m going to get a lemonade. Okay, Cleo?” asks Dad. I nod.
Now it’s just me and Sam. I realize I haven’t had a real talk with her in weeks.
“You did a good job,” she says, looking at the floor more than she looks at me.
“Thanks. Did your mom make you come?”
“No. I wanted to. I wanted to see how you did. And, you know, see Madison and Scabby Larry and everybody.”
“We just call him Larry,” I tell her. “He’s really fun when you get to know him better.”
“Oh, okay,” Sam says. Then it’s quiet for a second. “So you had a good time?”
“Yeah!” I say. “You should try out for the next one!”
“Really?”
“For sure,” I tell her. “You feel really dopey sometimes, like when you try out and even during practice, but you get to hang out with people you normally wouldn’t hang out with and it’s really exciting when you perform! You definitely should try out next time!”
Samantha doesn’t exactly smile, but her lips turn up a little bit at the edges. “I’ll think about it.” We stand there for a second with nothing to say. Sam shuffles her feet a little, then says, “You never told me what you did with the doll.”
“Oh, it’s gone. Ripped up and buried.”
Sam sighs. “Well, that’s good, I guess.”
“Yeah, I think so too.”
“We used to have fun doing other things besides…that, didn’t we?”
“We did,” I say. And I guess I’ve known it ever since she got mad at me, but right now, I miss Sam. I hope someday we can be friends again.
It’s quiet again for a moment. Sam looks around the room and then points toward the lemonade table. “Hey. Check it out.”
I look over and see Dad—talking to Terri.
“I’d better go say hi,” I say to Sam.
She nods. “I’d better get to the car. See you Monday.”
“Yeah, see you Monday,” I say, and I’m so excited by everything that’s happened today, I give her a hug. When I look at her face afterward, I can tell she didn’t expect it, but I don’t care because this is a great night!
I look over toward the lemonade table again, and I wonder what I should do. I don’t want to interrupt them if they’re busy falling back in love, but I can’t stand here alone in the middle of the activity either. Then Terri makes the choice for me. She spots me and shouts, “Hey, it’s the star of the show!” I run over and hug her, making extra-sure to be careful of her wrist. She holds her lemonade away from her so it doesn’t spill on us and tells me I did a great job.
“Thanks for coming!” I say loudly. “Dad, did you know Terri was here?”
“Not until I saw her out here.” He thanks her for coming too, but he says it in a soft, sweet way. I’m hoping they’ll hug or even (yucch) kiss, but instead she says, “I should go. Invite me to the next one, Cleo.”
“I will, Terri, for sure!”
“Bye, Bradley. Nice to see you,” she says, and touches him on the back. It’s not a hug or a kiss, but at least it’s a start.
“Nice to see you too,” he says, and we both watch her walk away for a minute. Then Dad turns to me, looking happy. “So, what do you say? Ice cream at home?”
“And some TV?” I ask.
“Hey, it’s Friday, and it’s your big night. We can watch whatever you want!”
“Maybe past midnight?”
“Don’t push it,” he says jokingly. But I know I’ll be able to stay up as late as I want.
When we get home, there’s a gift waiting for me. Dad and I open the front door and Toby greets us in his usual barky, slobbery way, but tied to his collar is a bunch of helium balloons. They’re shiny and colorful and some of them say Congratulations. Hanging underneath Toby’s chin is a small envelope with my name on it, tied to a ribbon.
I sit on the floor, open the envelope, and read the card inside.
Sorry I couldn’t be there tonight, Cleo, but your dad’s going to send me a video. I know you are a star—and a tree! Congratulations! I hope it was a splendiferous night.
Love & magic, Uncle Arnie
I don’t know why, but my heart feels big and full. I look up at Dad and ask, “How did Uncle Arnie get balloons on Toby?”
Dad laughs. “He ordered them, and I put them on Toby.”
“Oh,” I say, though inside I’m thinking, Duh.
Just like Dad promised, we scoop out big bowls of ice cream. We don’t have to eat the crusty vanilla-chocolate combination that was already in the freezer, because while I was at school, he went to the store and bought my favorites—rocky road and cookie dough. We watch lots of TV, and though I’m still excited from the play and seeing Terri and the balloons and the ice cream, I start getting tired. But I don’t want this great day to end, so I ask if we can watch some more. Dad nicely says no; it’s bedtime.
I take my balloons to my bedroom and tie them to a knob on my dresser. There are so many and they’re so festive, I decide to untie one from the rest of the group and give it to Dad. I pick a silver one that has a confetti design on it and head down the hallway in my pj’s. “Dad, I have a present for you,” I say.
Dad is sitting at his desk and turns around. He smiles when he sees the balloon and thanks me for sharing. “I’m glad you came back out; I remembered that Uncle Arnie sent you something else, and he asked me to wait until after the play to give it to you.”
He hands me a cardboard box that probably came special delivery, just like the voodoo doll. It isn’t voodoo-size, though; it’s a lot smaller, like for a piece of jewelry. But I know Uncle Arnie would never buy me jewelry.
I plop myself on the floor of the dining room and ask Dad to hand me a pair of scissors so I can open the box. It’s stuffed with newspaper, but instead of throwing it to the ground like I did with the voodoo doll, I take my time and look through it carefully. That’s when I see what he’s sent. It’s a little red glass bottle, small enough to tie a string around and wear as a necklace. There�
��s some liquid inside. I pop off the lid and take a sniff. It doesn’t smell bad; it doesn’t smell good; it doesn’t smell like anything.
Just like with the voodoo doll, there’s a note at the bottom of the box. The paper is light purple with pink roses around the edges, and Uncle Arnie has attempted to write in pretty cursive handwriting.
The time for voodoo is over. Now it’s time for the magic of love!
When you’re ready, this love potion will improve your life and the lives of others. Instructions to follow.
Love & magic, Uncle Arnie
“What is it?” Dad asks.
I hold up the bottle and show him. But after everything I’ve told him about my voodoo, Dad’s not ready to hear about a love potion. I’m not sure I’m ready for it either. “Just a little perfume,” I say.
“Finally, something normal,” Dad says, then adds that it’s really time for bed now. Though I’m getting too old for it, I let him walk me to my room and tuck me in.
“I’m proud of you, Cleo,” Dad says.
“Really? Why?” I ask.
“This has been a hard couple of months, but you’ve handled it really well. I can tell things are going to get better and better for you.”
Maybe he’s just saying all that because it’s my big night, but I still like hearing it. I hope I can live up to what he feels about me. We’ll see.
I must start to fall asleep against his shoulder, because when he moves I kind of wake up. “Good night, Cleo,” he says.
As he leaves the room, I say, “Thanks, Dad. This was a weird day, but it’s the best day I’ve had in a long, long time.”
“Me too, honey.” He turns off the light and closes the door, so it’s just me and the darkness.
The Popularity Spell Page 18