Wonder Never (The Fairytale Diaries #2)

by Amanda Gatton

  She slammed in the front door of her home after resolving to never work, and she ran upstairs to her room.

  ***

  Clementine's mother died when she was seven. She remembered the woman well as a kind and gentle person and devoted loving mother. She also well recalled the day she was told her mother had joined the angels in heaven.

  It wasn't for several years she learned the thing that sent her there was a train plowing into her stalled car on the tracks.

  On her sixteenth birthday, Clementine had been given a necklace from her father. He told her a tale of her mother's lineage and how the necklace was a treasured family heirloom. It had a shining golden ball pendant with a row of perfectly pure diamonds around the circumference. The pretty golden ball dangled from a delicate gold chain.

  A different girl than Clementine would remember the significance of the charm. Or at least, would cherish the beautiful remnant of her dearly departed mother. OR at VERY very least, would not pawn her mother's priceless family heirloom.

  But alas, Clementine wasn't a different girl. She was a wretch.

  After pulling his eyes away from the small jewelry magnifying glass, the man gave Clementine an inquisitive look. "Are you sure about this?"

  Clementine nodded eagerly.

  "And this is yours?" he wondered.

  Clementine gave him a scathing look. "Of course it's mine. What do I look like?"

  The man arched an eyebrow but refrained from making the rude comment that was on the tip of his tongue.

  "OK, well, you understand if you don't pay me back in thirty days, the item will go up for sale, and you'll have to pay full price unless someone else gets it first?"

  Clementine groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I know how a pawn shop works. How much?"

  "I can give you three hundred dollars."

  Her jaw dropped and her cheeks blazed scarlet. She could hear all the blood rushing to her head as it whooshed in her ears. "You've got to be kidding, right?" she said, struggling not to scream.

  "No ma'am, I'm not," he man said evenly. He laid her necklace on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

  "That is a five thousand dollar necklace," Clementine seethed. "Are you an idiot? Are you a COMPLETE MORON?"

  The man only smiled in the face of her fury, which further enraged her. "Take it or leave it," he insisted.

  She stared at the necklace. Three hundred would pay her phone bill for two months. And she felt certain she would sort out her finances long before thirty days. She sighed.

  "Fine," she muttered.

  He plucked the necklace from the class counter, wrote her up a claim slip, and sent her angrily out the door with three hundred dollars cash in her pocket.

  Chapter 8

  June

  "Daddy?" Clementine knocked timidly on the door to her father's home office. For the last month, she'd carefully avoided him. She'd been sure to behave, get all school work done, and keep a low profile with her friends. She was certain he'd had time to cool off.

  "Come in."

  She let herself in as he spun in his seat to face her. Mr. Giroux had no smile for her, or even so much as a word of hello. It suddenly felt like it was a hundred degrees in their house. She felt droplets of sweat trickled beneath her armpits. She decided she'd better just cut to the chase.

  "Um, Daddy, I need a huge favor."

  "Oh? What might that be?" he asked. His face remained stony.

  "Could I please borrow three hundred dollars?"

  He chuckled. "For one, Clementine, the word 'borrow' implies that you have a way to repay; usually, with interest. And another thing, I can't believe that you have the audacity to approach me again about that damned cell phone." He glared briefly into her eyes. "You figured out how to pay the bill last month. Do it again." With that, he spun back to his desk, putting his back to her.

  Her heart hammered. This was in no way how she'd envisioned this going. "Daddy," she said, the pitch of her voice rising. "It's not for my phone! I have to pay back the loan for my phone!"

  Mr. Giroux simply raised one hand and waved it, as if to dismiss her.

  Tears began to stream down her face. "Oh Daddy, please! PLEASE! I'll never ask again, I swear. Please!"

  "No, Clementine," he barked, still refusing to face her.

  "B… Bu… But, Daddy. I pawned my golden ball necklace. And today's the last day I can get it back!"

  That got him to turn around. His mouth hung open and every bit of color drained from his face. "You… You sold her necklace?" he whispered, tears glimmering in his eyes. It came crashing in when she saw her father's eyes wet with tears; how much she'd truly hurt him.

  "Not sold! Pawned, Daddy! I can get it back today for three hundred dollars. Tomorrow… It'll be much, much more."

  He gaped at her for such a long, silent time, it seemed like maybe he didn't hear her. She contemplated dropping to her knees and begging, but finally he spoke again.

  "You gave your mother's necklace to a pawn broker knowing that you might not be able to get it back?"

  She blinked a few times rapidly. "Well, I… No, not exactly."

  Mr. Giroux stood abruptly. "Oh really? Because you thought sure I'd get it back for you, right?"

  Clementine stammered for an answer. Except there wasn't one because he was correct.

  "Your mother always meant for you to have that necklace. It was never mine. It was yours. If that’s all the more it meant to you," he said with another dismissing wave. "Then so be it."

  "Daddy, no…" Clementine whispered.

  "You made the wrong choice. Get out," he demanded darkly.

  "Please Daddy!"

  "GET OUT!"

  ***

  Her hair streaked out behind her like a flag in the wind. Her feet pounded the sidewalk so hard that daggers of pain shot up her shins with each long stride. Sweat poured as she sprinted. By the time she burst into the pawn shop, she could barely breathe. She doubled over, resting with her hands on her knees briefly to catch her breath.

  "Oh, hey there! Didn't expect to see you again," said the man behind the counter.

  She straightened to approach him.

  The man reached into a small card box containing the matching claim slip to the one she had in her pocket. "Just in time!" he said with a smile. "Three hundred dollars and I'll get your necklace out of the safe for you."

  Clementine tried to keep herself calm. She smiled at him. "Well, there's just a tiny problem."

  The man's smile disappeared and he rolled his eyes. Clementine's smile faded as well.

  "I just need a little more time."

  He shook his head. "You have til store closes at ten. That's it."

  Hysteria bubbled up, burning her throat with bile and her eyes with tears. "Mister, please, it belonged to my mother. She died."

  He gave her a disgusted look. "This ain't a charity, lady. I'm a PAWN broker. As in, YOU PAY."

  "Have a heart!" she cried.

  The man rolled his eyes again which sparked Clementine's temper. "Listen, Miss," the man said with an attitude that could easily match hers. "Here in grown up world, things work a certain way. When you pawn something, you run the risk of losing it. The end."

  Her eyes narrowed evilly. "Are you an idiot?" she spat. "Are you a complete moron?" Anger boiled inside her. "You're seriously going to sit there and tell me you're keeping my five thousand dollar necklace? You're a con man. A rip off artist. I should call the police."

  He burst out laughing at that and shook his head. "You know how many sob stories I've heard in here?" the man asked. "Con artist. That's rich." His smile faded once again and he glared at her. "I'm not going to tell you again, kid. Unless you have three hundred dollars, you get out of my shop, and you don't come back, got it? Or I'll be the one calling the cops."

  She stood there a moment longer glaring with nostrils flaring at the man. But, beneath her self-righteous anger, she knew that there wasn't anything she could do. She'd encountered someone who wou
ldn't respond to her intimidation tactics. Clementine spun on her heel and stormed out of the shop.

  ***

  Outside the pawn shop was a wooden bench against the brick wall, where people could sit and watch the traffic go by. Clementine's knees buckled and she sunk onto the bench. She dropped her face into her hands and wept bitterly. She cried so hard, she felt ill and dizzy. Tears mingled with the grimy sweat all over her face. It was definitely the worst spot she'd ever stumbled into. Time stopped as she sat there crying, as though the world stopped turning. She tried to determine how her life had become such a mess. However, being the girl that she was, she couldn't put the pieces of the puzzle together and see how she'd created her own problems. She drowned in her own self-pity.

  "Excuse me, Miss?"

  The sound of the voice was the strangest thing she'd ever heard. It seemed to croak, not unlike a frog. She raised her head, regarding the bearer of the voice with blood shot eyes and blotchy face. Before her stood a boy who looked close in age to her, perhaps a hair older. He was dressed in an odd green suit that made him seem as though he'd just wandered out of a story book. He was tall and gangly, with weirdly long arms and legs. He had piercing dark eyes and dark skin that was marred by many ugly pock marks. He may have been handsome were it not for the ugly rash all over him. She grimaced at the sight of him.

  "What?" she snapped, wrinkling her nose rudely.

  The strange boy shifted from foot to foot nervously, wringing his hands. "I was just wondering if you're alright?" he said kindly despite his alarming hoarse voice.

  "Go away, leave me alone," Clementine demanded.

  His eyes were sorrowful as he studied her. She had to look away, as the sight of him so thoroughly disgusted her.

  "But maybe I can help!" he said.

  "You can't, now go away," she insisted, staring at the ground.

  The boy persisted. "Listen," he insisted. "My name is Alfred Green. I'm sure that I can help you if you just tell me why you're crying."

  She forced herself to look at him again, her disgust still written all over her face. She pondered him momentarily. He was most definitely grotesque and odd ball. But, that was exactly the sort of person who she manipulated and used shamelessly. With a shrug, she decided it wouldn't hurt to talk to the strange fellow.

  "I pawned my mother's necklace," Clementine explained. "Today's the last day to get it back, and I don't have the money."

  Alfred nodded. "I see. How much do you need?"

  She stared at him suspiciously. "Three hundred dollars."

  He smiled a wide peculiar expression that gave her a shiver. "Oh that's not a problem at all!" he exclaimed. "I'll pay it for you and get your necklace back!"

  Clementine's jaw dropped. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Why in the world would you do that?" she asked in honest shock.

  "I just want to help, Miss."

  She shook her head. "It doesn't make any sense."

  "Well, you could do something for me, if you would."

  "What?" she asked suspiciously, beginning to think she was being scammed.

  "I could really use a place to stay tonight. Some good food and a friend's company."

  She sneered. "If you have three hundred dollars to spare, why don't you just get a hotel room?"

  Alfred's homely face fell. "I'd prefer some kindness and company, ma'am," he admitted sadly.

  Clementine had no idea if this strange guy would really pony up three hundred bucks for her, but she didn't have to think twice about at least trying to see if it would play out favorably. "Fine, Alfred," she said brandishing a sugary sweet smile. "That wouldn't be a problem at all! I'd be happy to let you stay at my house for the night!"

  He smiled again and gave her a courteous nod. "Great, thank you so much, Miss."

  "Call me Clementine," she said sweetly.

  It gave Clementine intense pleasure to reenter the store and watch the manager's face as Alfred paid her debt for her. In a matter of moments, they were back on the sidewalk and her necklace was tucked tightly inside Clementine's fist.

  "I have to do a couple things first, Clementine," Alfred said. "If you could give me your address, I shall come shortly."

  Clementine giggled at the way Alfred spoke. Not only was the sound of his voice bizarre, he spoke in a strangely old fashioned manner. Who in the world is this guy, she wondered. She gave him her address and directions to the Giroux home and the pair parted company.

  ***

  Clementine went straight home and tucked the necklace safely inside her jewelry box. She thought of Alfred and how strange he was. What didn't occur to her was that even stranger than his appearance was the fact that a random stranger had arrived at just the right moment to offer her three hundred dollars. Good sense had never been a strength of hers. She knew she had no business telling a boy he could stay at her house; her father would never allow such a thing. But she convinced herself that Alfred would never show up anyway. The whole thing was just too preposterous.

  She whiled away the afternoon lazily wasting time on Likebook and the boy and his good deed were soon forgotten completely. Early evening fell and her stomach began to rumble with hunger. It was when she was making her way down the stairs to seek out some dinner that the doorbell rang. Her heartbeat picked up pace a bit because of course, she knew who it was.

  She ran the rest of the way down the steps and swung open the heavy front door to find the weird guy in the green suit standing their grinning broadly.

  "Good evening, Clementine," croaked Alfred Green.

  Clementine scowled deeply. "What are you doing here?" she whispered angrily.

  His smile was replaced by a look of confusion. "What do you mean? Aren't you going to let me in?"

  "Of course not, are you crazy?"

  Alfred's eyes widened, and suddenly his kind face took on a malevolent expression that sent a shiver racing up and down her spine. "We had an agreement," Alfred said evilly.

  Chapter 9

  "Oh please, you cannot be serious," Clementine snarled.

  "I cannot be serious?" Alfred asked incredulously, his throaty voice growing louder. "What about you, Clementine? What about our agreement? A very small thing I asked of you, your friendship for a day. You can't repay me just that for three hundred dollars? Then give me the necklace!"

  Clementine grew increasingly nervous. She was honestly stunned Alfred had shown up. The thought of a perfect stranger staying the night in her house was so absurd, she hadn't thought for a second he'd actually expect it. But since he stood before her, his temper ignited, it occurred to her just how strange he was with his out of date clothing, ugly skin, and croaking voice. Perhaps he was a criminal. An insane person. A mass murderer!

  "Please," Clementine said, trying to sound soothing. "Please just go, Alfred. I don't want any trouble."

  "Oh no? Then give me the necklace!"

  Her eyes began to fill with tears once again. The necklace was worth infinitely more than three hundred dollars. There was no way she could give it to him, not to mention its sentimental value. But she had no idea what else she could offer him to get rid of him.

  "What's going on here?"

  Clementine startled at the sound of her father's voice. Mr. Giroux emerged from his office off the front foyer and strode to the door where he came shoulder to shoulder with his daughter.

  "Good evening, sir," Alfred said, extending his hand. "I'm Alfred Green."

  Mr. Giroux looked Alfred over skeptically and eyed his outstretched hand. Always a sucker for nice manners however, Mr. Giroux grasped the hand and gave it a firm shake. "Hello, Alfred, I'm Mr. Giroux. Is there something I can help you with?"

  Clementine wished the world would open up and swallow her whole when Alfred shot her a scathing look.

  "Well, Mr. Giroux, I met your daughter here outside the pawn shop. She was in a bit of a bind, unable to settle a debt with the proprietor. It happened that I was in a position to pay for her necklace on her behalf, and all
that I asked in return was a place to rest my head tonight and some friendly companionship, to which she wholeheartedly agreed."

  Mr. Giroux turned wide eyes down to Clementine, staring open mouthed at her. After a speechless moment he spoke. "Clementine, you told a complete stranger he could stay in our house? A teenaged boy? You knew I'd never allow that. You conned this boy!"

  Under the scrutiny of both her father and Alfred, Clementine's cheeks blazed red. She stuttered incoherently and her father rolled his eyes and groaned.

  "You never have an answer when you're caught in a lie, do you young lady?"

  She stared ashamedly at the floor.

  Mr. Giroux turned back to Alfred. He reached into his pocket and extracted his wallet. "Alfred," he said boisterously. "I'll do you one better. I will refund your three hundred dollars and, Clementine will honor her offer to let you stay the night as our guest."

  Alfred grinned broadly. Clementine gasped.

  "My daughter needs to learn to keep her word. What a wonderful opportunity for her." He glared at Clementine. "Let me get my keys, we'll all go out to supper."

  ***

  The three of them sat in a cozy round booth of Enchantica's five star seafood restaurant that Clementine usually adored. However, that time she had absolutely no appetite, sat with her back rigidly straight, and she felt a little ill. Mr. Giroux and Alfred chatted away like lifelong compadres. Her father seemed like he didn't notice all the odd things about Alfred. But the boy's frog voice grated on Clementine's last nerve.

  When their dinner plates arrived, Alfred began to devour his food as though he was starving to death. Clementine kept sneaking glances at him while she could only manage to pick at her own food. Halfway through his food, Alfred paused and studied Clementine's plate.

  "That looks delicious, Clementine, may I have a bite?" he asked, presumptuously extending his fork toward her lobster. Mr. Giroux chuckled.

  "You want to eat off my plate?" Clementine asked, wrinkling her nose.

  "Just a bite," said Alfred good naturedly.

  She rolled her eyes and shoved her plate in his direction. "Here," she said grudgingly. "Have it all. I'm not even hungry."