“What’s so funny?”
“How come you don’t have wings?”
“Wings are so last-century.”
My hysterics last until she touches my face with one claw.
“Are you finished?” she purrs.
I hear motors in the distance and Dad shouting, “Winifred, Winifred. Can you hear me?”
“It’s my dad!”
She exclaims, “Oh bother! I can’t be seen.”
“You’re invisible to others?”
“Not as long as FIMM malfunctions,” she said in disgust.
“Quick, disappear!” I exclaim.
“I can’t,” whispers Fairy Godmonster. “My whip won’t work.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“My powers are limited without it.”
“Winifred.” Scott’s voice calls now.
“Hide!” I plead. “They’ll be here any minute.”
Fairy Godmonster looks around. She grabs her cycle and hurls it under some large bushes. She leaps to a low hanging tree branch and glides up the trunk like a snake, snarling when the needles pierce her hands. She disappears into the high branches.
“Don’t move,” I warn. “Stay there. I have enough problems.”
Needles and small branches fall to the ground as she hides.
Dad and Scott drive in on three-wheelers.
I run toward them to keep them from coming into the meadow.
“Win!” Dad shuts off his motor. “Didn’t you hear us calling? Are you all right?” He looks me over from head to foot.
“I’m fine.” I ignore his first question.
I hold my breath and hope Fairy Godmonster doesn’t move. What if her yellow boots show in the trees?
Dad continues, “When Scott told me Dancer came back without you or a saddle and bridle, I was worried.” He hugs me.
“What happened?” asks Scott.
“Something scared Dancer. I wasn’t expecting him to stop and I came off.”
“That’s not like Dancer,” says Dad. “What frightened him?”
I can’t tell him about ‘you know who,’ so I say, “He spooked at a cloud of mist.”
Dad looks into my eyes. He can always tell if I’m lying. Luckily, he believes the
part of the truth I tell him.
“Can we go home? I’m hungry.”
Dad laughs. “That’s my girl. You missed lunch, but I think Erminia left a sandwich for you.”
Scott says, “You okay? You look as white as a ghost.”
Not now, I don’t. Heat sneaks up my neck.
“Sure,” I mumble. “You just have to know how to roll when you land.”
“Famous forward dismount?” Dad grins.
I laugh. “How’d you guess?”
He frowns. “Where’s your helmet?”
I cringe, “Forgot it.”
“That’s not like you. What happened?”
I don’t look at Scott and hope he doesn’t say anything about Weasel’s insults. “Nothing. I was in a hurry.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” growls Dad.
He jumps on his three-wheeler and starts the motor.
Scott smiles at me. “Hop on.”
“I drive,” I say.
He jumps off and smiles. “Your wish is my command.” He sits behind me.
I ignore my burning face and start the motor. Not prepared when his arms circle my waist, I floor the gas pedal. A surge of energy electrifies my body.
“Hot-rodder!” Scott laughs.
We head for home and I hear a loud CRACK and THUMP in the woods behind us.
Scott, whispers in my ear, “What was that?”
The chills up and down my spine from his arms almost make me let go of the handlebars.
“Do you mind not talking? I’m trying to drive.”
He continues, “Just a warning. Mrs. Dudley needs to see you about the wedding.”
I forgot about the wedding. His warmth makes my mind numb.
Could my life get any worse? Yes. If I knew what was going to happen next, I would have stayed in the forest and begged Fairy Godmonster to take me to Monsterdome.
Chapter 11: Fasten Seat Belt – Curves
I check the fridge when we get home. No sandwich. Stupid Weasel. Grabbing an apple, I follow Dad and Scott into the living room where everyone is gathered.
“Win, are you all right? I was so worried.” Claire rushes to hug me.
“I’m fine. Even the best riders come off their horses once in a while.”
“Thank goodness. I don’t want anything to happen to my new sister.”
John adds, “Yeah, I need you to hold me up during the ceremony, Win. I’m going to be in shock when my best friend loses his freedom.”
David laughs. “You’re jealous because I met Claire first.”
“Darn right,” John says. “I’ll have to remember your technique and sprawl over
some beautiful girl’s car hood.”
Everybody laughs, except Weasel. “Charles, we need you and Scott to accompany us to town.”
“We need measurements for your tux, Dad,” David says. He takes Dad aside.
I scoot over to listen.
David adds, ”I need your support and approval for my garden plans.”
“I expect at least two hundred guests, David,” says Weasel. “Where do you plan to seat them? From what I’ve seen, you will need a bulldozer to make room.”
“You can’t rip up the garden!” I yell. My heart beats like it will explode.
“Calm down, Sis.” David pats my head and I pull away angrily. “I’ve got a plan that will keep the integrity of the garden, yet enhance it.”
“I want it the way it is.”
Weasel interjects, “We don’t always get what we want when other people are involved, Winifred.”
I almost scream at her until I see Dad shake his head at me. I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth.
Mr. Dudley says, “I’m sure that with David’s talents and my money, the garden will be beautiful.”
Dad stiffens.
Mr. Dudley’s phone rings, breaking the tension in the room.
Daria pulls on his sleeve. “Daddy, you promised. No phone today.”
“In a minute, Daria.”
The hurt in Daria’s eyes matches the growing crack in my heart. She sees me watching her and turns away.
I plead with Dad. “Dad, you can’t - ”
“We’ll handle it Winifred. You have enough to do. Have you talked with Erminia about the division of chores?”
“No.” I swallow the lump in my throat and hold back tears.
Mr. Dudley’s usually quiet voice raises to an ugly roar. “Sell immediately! I don’t need your opinion!” He hangs up. It rings again. “Yes?” He relaxes and nods his head. “The limousine is waiting outside.”
Wow, I wouldn’t want to work for Mr. Dudley. When he’s mad, he’s scarier than Weasel.
She announces, “The limousine seats eight comfortably.”
I count nine.
She continues, “I’d like to ask a favor of Winifred.”
I don’t raise my eyes to hers.
“David says you have excellent penmanship.” She pretends to smile.
I look at David. He mouths, ‘I’m sorry.’
She continues, “I was hoping you could stay here and address the invitations for Claire. They need to go out tomorrow. We only have three weeks, which isn’t a proper amount of time. It can’t be helped. Will you be a dear and help us out?”
Now I exist? When she wants something from me?
“Sure,” I say. I can’t stand the thought of going anywhere with Weasel. My idea of a limousine ride has me in a prom dress sitting next to a boy. Besides, how hard can it be?
“We need a dress and shoes for Winifred, too,” says Claire. “She can’t stay here.”
“I’ll stay and help Winifred.” Scott smiles and I look at him gratefully.
Weasel says, “Tux measurements a
re more difficult. We need you to come with us, Scott. I’m sure we can find an appropriate dress for Winifred. What size do you wear?”
I squirm as everybody looks at me. “Two in dresses, four in shoes.”
“Measure the length, Claire.”
Claire frowns. “Do you have a measuring tape, Winifred?”
I get the tape and Claire whispers, “I’m sorry. It’s my responsibility to do the invitations.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to go with you anyway.” I see her wince, and feel bad.
Claire sighs. “I hope someday we can be like sisters. Please stand on your toes while I measure.”
Daria runs over and wraps her arm around Claire. “She’s my sister. You’re just an outlaw.”
I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Yeah, and you’d better watch out. You know what outlaws do.” I turn away from Weasel and point my imaginary guns at Daria.
Daria scuttles to her mother.
Weasel corrects her daughter. “Daria, the word is in-law.” She turns to me. “Everything is on the dining table, Winifred. Use two envelopes per invitation. The names and addresses go on the outside envelope. The names of the addressees go on the inside envelope. I left an example. Come everyone. Time to go.”
Dad pulls me aside. “I don’t like what’s happening.”
“Neither do I, Dad. How come I don’t have any say about anything around here anymore?”
He ignores the question, his mind elsewhere. “I have never met a woman as pushy as Erminia. I don’t know how to handle her.”
“I don’t want to go anyway.”
“You’ll be all right?” he asks.
“Fine.”
“I’ll take the cell phone in case you need to call.” He smiles, kisses me on the cheek and is gone.
Weasel looks back at me before she goes out the door. “Thank you, Winifred.”
She makes a ‘thank you’ sound like an insult.
I don’t watch them leave. I stomp into the dining room and find a table full of boxes.
I snatch ‘The List’ and flip to the last page. Five hundred names! Double the envelopes! It will take as much time putting the addresses on the computer as doing it by hand. I need food to tackle this job.
I make a sandwich out of roast beef, mustard and dill pickles. My favorite. Then I notice the silence. Dashing to the stable to find Kong, I wonder how Fairy Godmonster is doing alone in the forest. I let the dog out and he follows me into the house. Since Daria’s gone, I don’t think it matters.
Kong looks at my sandwich and slobbers. I give it to him and make myself another. Then, I tackle the invitations. Three hours later, I unbend my cramped fingers to answer the phone.
“Hello.”
“It’s Dad. This is taking longer than I thought. We’re going into Salem. We’ll have to eat dinner there.”
“You’re in Sisters?”
“Yes. Erminia can’t find what she wants here. We’ll be home very late. You’ll be okay?”
“Yeah.”
I eat boxed macaroni, feed the horses and continue doing the invitations. The pen runs out of ink. I head to my bedroom to get another one. Kong follows me upstairs.
I open my bedroom door, forgetting about the cat.
Kong jumps for the bed.
Godzilla sits in the middle of it, licking her fur. She takes one look at Kong and puffs up like a blowfish.
Kong spots the ferocious cat and twists midair to avoid her. He plops on the pillow.
Godzilla arches her back and slowly stalks him.
“No!” I yell at the cat.
She hisses and spits in fury.
Kong yelps and falls off the bed backward.
Godzilla takes a flying leap after him, fangs bared. She misses and claws Daria’s curtains.
I’m amazed Kong can move so fast. He squishes under the dresser.
“Kong, come!” I yell.
He doesn’t hear me over his whining and the ear-shattering shrieks of the cat.
Godzilla pounces to the floor, swiping her claws at the trapped Kong. He zooms out the end and jumps onto the top of the dresser, crashing into the stuffed animals and trophies.
The cat jumps behind him and tries to bite his tail.
Kong bumps the dresser mirror. It tips over and knocks the cat on the head. I barely grab it before it falls off the dresser.
Kong slips off the end and crashes to the floor.
I lean over and grab his collar.
Godzilla pounces onto my head, digging her claws in.
“OW!” I yell, trying to get the cat off my head.
She springs to the bed, yowling like she’s being eaten alive.
Kong rises stiffly on all four legs and snarls so viciously that the hair stands up on the back of my neck.
“Kong, come!” I scream, scared and horrified at what might happen. He looks at me a second.
Godzilla hisses and swishes under the bed. Kong sticks his head under it, growling. He yelps. I grab his collar and drag him away.
Long scratches bleed on his nose. I pull him out of the bedroom and close the door. He pants, tongue lolling to one side. I drag him to the bathroom.
My legs shake so much, I collapse to the floor. I bury my face in his neck. Tears drip down my face.
“Oh, Kong, I’m sorry, boy.” I pull myself up and grab a cloth from the closet. Still shaking, I wash his scratches with hydrogen peroxide and put some aloe vera on them. He gives me a slobbery kiss. Then I do the same to my head. I take him to the attic and lock the door.
The bedroom is a disaster. An hour later, everything’s back in order. Godzilla growls and howls the whole time, staring at me with those eyes. Luckily, nothing’s broken. I can’t do anything about the ripped curtains. Let Godzilla worry about that.
Grabbing some pens from my desk, I go downstairs. Hear a door slam and voices. They’re back! Only one hundred and three invitations are done. I snatch up everything, hurry to the attic and lock us in. I turn off the light and jump into bed.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.
“Win, you awake?” asks Dad.
Kong’s tail thumps the bed. “Ssh, boy.” I pet him, ignoring Dad.
I hear his footsteps retreat and take a deep breath.
“Good boy.” I stare at the boxes of invitations and get to work.
Three a.m. and 225 invitations left. My eyes are blurry. Fingers stiff and achy. How am I going to finish in time? And how am I going to hide Kong’s scratches from Dad?
Kong jumps off the bed and goes to the door. I unlock it and we sneak down the stairs. I let him outside and decide to keep him in my room tonight, so Dad doesn’t see his nose before I can explain.
A shadow covers the moon and is gone. My eyes ache. I need some sleep, even if I don’t finish the stupid invitations. What’s Weasel going to do to me? Send me to the attic? Hah.
We sneak back upstairs. I open the window to cool off the attic.
Suddenly, a head pops in the window.
“AAAGGHHH!” I yell.
“Put a lid on it,” warns Fairy Godmonster, hanging upside down.
Kong rumbles low in his throat. I hold him tight. “Easy boy.”
Her spiked hair looks spooky in the moonlight. She glides through the window.
There’s a knock on the door. I suck in my breath. “Hide,” I whisper.
“Yeah, right,” she says.
“Win, it’s David. Open up.”
Fairy Godmonster slips to a corner behind the door.
I unlock it and stick my head out.
“I heard you scream from the open window in the study. Are you all right?” asks David.
“Fine. Scared by a silly noise.”
“You okay up here?” My brother tries to look around the door, but I don’t let him.
“I’ve got Mom’s things to keep me company.”
That shuts him up.
Kong sticks his head out. David looks down and pets him. “I
see. Don’t let anyone find him in the house.”
I’m glad it’s dark. He doesn’t see Kong’s nose. “I’ll take him to the stable early. ‘Night, David.”
He kisses my cheek. “Goodnight, Win.”
I close and lock the door.
Kong leaps over to Fairy Godmonster, expecting to slobber kisses all over her.
She growls softly. Kong lies on the floor at her feet.
“Good dog.” She pets him, smiling. Her fangs don’t bother him.
“Are you crazy? Someone might have seen you.”
“Please. I’ve been doing this a hundred and fifty years,” she replies.
Whoa. She looks twenty-five. “How did you find me?”
“X-ray vision.” She primps in Mom’s mirror.
I snicker. “You’re kidding, right?”
Her yellow eyes flicker red. “What do you think?”
“Sorry. It’s not like I’ve had a Fairy Godmonster with x-ray eyes before.”
“Ooh, I do like spunk.” She fluffs her tail.
I feel the laughter bubble up inside. I can’t hold it back. My Fairy Godmonster has superpowers? I giggle. Smother my face in my pillow and laugh hysterically.
“Is this going to become a habit?” she asks.
“Sorry. My head feels like Jell-O. I have to address all these invitations before tomorrow.”
“What for?”
“My brother’s getting married.”
She purrs, “A wedding. How fab. I want to come.”
I shake my head. “Why?”
“The champagne, silly.”
She peers at the list of addresses. “Maybe I can help. If I really concentrate, I can get my whip to work for short periods of time. Stand back.”
Kong and I move away. Fairy Godmonster swings the whip around her head. Her
eyes flame purple. The whip snakes across the room flashing tiny bolts of lightning. CRACK! Black mist swirls over the bed.
I shiver. What would Weasel do if I ruin the invitations?
The mist disappears. I run over. The invitations lay neatly stacked in the boxes. All addressed and stamped.
“Thank you.” I almost cry from relief, but hold it in.
Fairy Godmonster runs along the length of the attic and jumps into the air in a tuck position. I know gymnastics. I can’t believe what happens next. She does a triple, triple - a triple twisting, triple back somersault. She lands perfectly. Nobody can do that. Well, nobody human.
My Fairy Godmonster Page 5