by Chris Colfer
“I’m glad you brought this up,” Grandma said. “There is something I wanted to show you. Follow me.”
The Fairy Godmother helped her granddaughter to her feet and escorted her out of the room and down a very long hallway. They stopped at a large pair of doors in an impressive arched entryway. Alex had never seen these doors before.
“Where are we, Grandma?”
“This,” Grandma began with a smile, “is the Hall of Dreams.”
The Fairy Godmother pushed open the doors. Alex gasped and her eyes grew to twice their size. The room inside was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was a dark and endless space that seemed to stretch for miles in every direction. Bright orbs of all sizes floated around them. It was like the whole galaxy had been squeezed into the room in front of them.
They stepped inside and shut the doors behind them. Alex wasn’t sure how they were standing since there was technically no floor.
“This room has been here since the beginning of fairies,” Grandma said.
“What are they?” Alex asked as the orbs flew around her.
“They’re dreams, each and every one of them,” her grandma told her. “No matter how big or small the dream, a record of every wish or want can be found in this room.”
“There are thousands—no, millions of them!” Alex said.
“Oh, yes, possibly more!” the Fairy Godmother said. “As you can see, even with all the fairies in the world, it would be impossible to make every dream come true. When you look inside them you can see what they are and who they belong to.”
A medium-size orb floated directly into Alex’s hand. She peered into it closely and could see a small girl wearing a paper crown inside.
“That little girl dreams of becoming a princess,” Grandma said. “You’ll find a lot of those in here. We tend to pay special attention to the ones more like this.”
One of the largest orbs floated into her hand and they both looked into it. Inside the orb a sad little boy watched over his younger sister, who sat in a wooden wheelchair.
“This little boy would give anything just to see his sister walk again,” Grandma said. “It’s one of the larger orbs because it’s one of the larger dreams—and it’s easier to hold because it’s selfless. I’m going to save it and see if there’s anything I can do for them later.” Grandma promptly placed the orb in a pocket of her robes.
“So this is how you find all the people you help?” Alex asked.
“Indeed,” the Fairy Godmother said. “Much more efficient than unicorns, don’t you agree?”
The two exchanged a smile. Alex tried to reach for another large orb, but it wouldn’t stay in her hand.
“Why can’t I grab that one?” Alex asked, afraid it was something to do with her.
“Because whoever that dream belongs to doesn’t want your help, and from the looks of it, they don’t even want you to know what their dream is,” Grandma said.
“That’s silly,” Alex said. “Why wouldn’t they want me to see it?”
“To know someone’s deepest desires is to risk knowing them more than they want to be known,” the Fairy Godmother said. “I’ve had to learn that lesson the hard way many times.”
Alex thought for a moment and stopped trying to grab the orb. “It must be so frustrating to see all these dreams and know you can’t make them all come true,” she said.
“When I was younger, perhaps,” the Fairy Godmother said. “But we should do what we can, and not torture ourselves over the things we can’t. It’s unfair and unrealistic to expect yourself to solve every problem in the world. Never forget that no matter how many dreams you find in here, there would be many more if it weren’t for people like us. Every wish granted by the magic from a fairy’s wand inspires a dozen more that will be achieved by the magic within people themselves. Take a look at that one.”
The Fairy Godmother gestured at an orb floating in front of them that slowly faded away until it disappeared.
“What happened to it?” Alex asked.
“The dream came true,” Grandma said. “And it had nothing to do with us. After years and years of being inspired by other dreamers, that person made their own dream come true and probably inspired countless others to do the same. We wouldn’t want to live in a world where no one believed in themselves enough to make their own dreams come true.”
A shy smile came to Alex’s face. “I think I get what you’re trying to teach me, Grandma.”
Grandma smiled back at her. “I’m glad to hear it.” A small orb landed in the Fairy Godmother’s hand but it instantly faded away.
“Whose was that?” Alex asked.
“Mine,” Grandma said. “Every lesson that you learn is a dream come true for me. And I have to say, you’re learning much faster than I ever did.”
Alex smiled again. Despite how frustrating her day had been, her grandmother made her feel like she was accomplishing her own dreams. She knew that somewhere in this room an orb that belonged to her had just disappeared.
“Now, aside from our lessons, I want you to relax for the rest of the week. You can’t help anyone if you don’t know how to help yourself first,” the Fairy Godmother instructed her.
“All right,” Alex reluctantly agreed. “Thank you for the lesson, Grandma.” She hugged her and left the Hall of Dreams. She didn’t know what to do with herself for the rest of the day—it’d been a while since she had allowed herself any free time.
Once her granddaughter left, the Fairy Godmother closed her eyes and tiny tears formed behind her lids. She had never thought it would be possible to be as proud of someone as she was of Alex. She knew that one day Alex would be an even better fairy godmother than she was.
And unfortunately, due to some changes the Fairy Godmother had recently felt inside herself, she knew that day was going to arrive much sooner than either of them wanted.…
CHAPTER THREE
THE BOOK HUGGERS
Conner was having a whimsical dream. He was skipping through the German countryside in bright green lederhosen, merrily swinging a basket of freshly picked flowers. He yodeled happily as he skipped toward a picturesque village ahead of him. Everything was so peaceful and happy—he never wanted to leave. But suddenly, a screeching alarm sounded through the area—it was a familiar sound, one that he had heard many times before. Conner looked to the sky and saw the evil alien race from the television show he had watched the night before descend upon the village and begin attacking it!
The dream came to an abrupt stop when Conner realized the sound was coming from his alarm clock. He smacked it a couple times more than necessary to shut it off. He was so tired he didn’t even feel alive. He felt like his head was filled with a giant cloud that made it difficult to keep his eyes open.
Even though he was glad he’d gotten to spend time with Alex the night before, he was seriously regretting his decision to stay up so late. He got dressed and dragged Betsy down the stairs one step at a time. Bob and Charlotte were waiting for him by the front door—they had always been morning people, a race Conner never understood.
“Ready, champ?” Bob asked, spinning his car keys in his hand.
Conner grunted something that sounded like yes. Charlotte had an early morning at the hospital and was already dressed for work. She put her arms around her son and hugged him tightly.
“Make good choices, Conner,” she said. “But most important, have fun!”
“Mom, I can’t go to Germany if you’re still hugging me,” Conner wheezed through her tight grip.
“I just need another minute,” Charlotte said. “You’re the only kid I’ve got left to hug.”
Once his mother finally let go, Conner threw his suitcase into the back of Bob’s car and they left the house. They stopped at a fast-food drive-in for a greasy breakfast, one they wouldn’t have gotten away with if Charlotte was with them, and headed to the airport. Bob happily reminisced about his own European adventures as he drove. Conner faded in and out of the conver
sation—the subtle bumps and vibrations of the car kept putting him to sleep. Eventually they arrived at the airport and Bob pulled up to the curbside.
“Before you get out, there’s something I wanted to give you,” Bob said in a very serious tone.
“It isn’t the birds-and-the-bees talk, is it?” Conner asked, fearing the worst. “Because I’ve already seen all the videos at school.”
“Um, no…,” Bob said. He paused for a moment, wondering if that was the talk he should have been giving him instead, but then proceeded as planned. “I got you something your mom doesn’t know about.”
Bob reached into his front pocket and pulled out a credit card. He handed it to his stepson and Conner was shocked to see “Conner Jonathan Bailey” written across the bottom.
“That’s my… my… my name,” Conner said. “You got me a credit card, Bob?!”
“I did,” Bob said. “The pin number is the year you were born. It’s only for emergencies and only for this trip, understand? As soon as you come home safe and sound I’m going to take it back. I know your mom is against things like this but I’d rather you were safe than sorry—so it’s our little secret, okay?”
Conner excitedly bobbed his head up and down. “Absolutely! Bob, you’re slowly becoming my favorite person ever! Thank you so much!”
Bob smiled and chuckled to himself. “Glad to hear it.” He patted Conner on the back. “You’re my family, Conner. I need to make sure you’ll be all right. Now go have an adventure—I mean, you know, one by normal standards. Try to avoid the evil enchantresses and talking animals as much as possible.”
Conner spotted Mrs. Peters standing outside the terminal entrance. She was surrounded by a group of four girls from school who had all just arrived as well. As excited as he was about the trip, Conner wasn’t looking forward to traveling with these girls.
“Don’t worry,” Conner reassured Bob. “The scariest thing on this trip is waiting for me over there.”
Conner gave Bob a hug, grabbed Betsy from out of the back, and waved good-bye as Bob drove off. He joined Mrs. Peters and the group of girls by the entrance. All the girls looked as tired as Conner. Mrs. Peters, however, looked exactly the same as she always did, which furthered Conner’s theory that she was a robot.
“Good morning, Mr. Bailey,” Mrs. Peters said, perky as ever.
“Good morning, Mrs. Peters,” Conner said. “Good morning, Mindy—Cindy—Lindy—Wendy.”
None of the girls responded, and Conner hadn’t expected them to. They hadn’t said a word to Conner since the school year began. Instead, they would just stare daggers at him from afar—as if he had publicly humiliated them in the past and never apologized for it. Conner couldn’t think of a reason they did this but he never spent too much thought on it. He knew girls tended to get very strange at their age—and these four were already some of the strangest girls he had ever met.
Mindy, Cindy, Lindy, and Wendy had been inseparable since the first grade when they were grouped together by their teacher for a rhyming project. Together they made up the Reading Club at school and spent every moment they could in the library. They would have reminded Conner of his sister had they not been so eccentric.
Mindy was the shortest, the loudest, and the self-appointed leader of their group. She wore her hair in pigtails every day as if she was contractually obligated to. Cindy was the youngest and to this day proudly told everyone that she had skipped kindergarten. She also had a mouthful of braces with enough metal to build a satellite. Lindy was African American and the tallest girl at school. She even towered over all her teachers. She stood a bit hunched over from all the time she spent looking down at people. Wendy was painfully shy and usually let the other girls do all the talking. She was Japanese and had very dark hair and the largest eyes Conner had ever seen on a human.
He had known for a while that the four girls were going on the trip and it had almost convinced him to stay home. But luckily, Bree was going, which somehow made the whole trip worthwhile.
“We’re just waiting for Ms. Campbell to arrive and then we’ll get checked in,” Mrs. Peters said, looking up and down the curb. “You’re the only boy on the trip, Mr. Bailey. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Oh yeah,” Conner said. “I’m used to it. My mom and sister used to talk about all kinds of girl things in front of me… usually over dinner, too, which I never appreciated.”
The girls exchanged dramatic eye rolls with one another as soon as Conner mentioned his sister. He couldn’t figure out what their problem was.
“Oh, here comes Ms. Campbell,” Mrs. Peters said.
Conner jerked his head in the direction she was looking and saw Bree Campbell walking toward them. The exhausting clouds filling his head instantly deflated. Just seeing her made Conner feel like he had drunk five energy drinks.
Bree Campbell was unlike any girl Conner had ever met. She was always very calm and cool, never raised her voice for anything, and never seemed to let anything or anyone affect her in any way. She had blonde hair with a streak of pink and blue in her bangs. She usually wore bracelets and wristbands by the dozen, always wore a purple beanie, and had an earbud plugged into one ear whenever she could.
“Good morning, Ms. Campbell,” Mrs. Peters said.
“Good morning, everyone,” Bree said with a yawn. She even yawned cooler than everyone else, Conner thought.
“Let’s go inside and get checked in,” Mrs. Peters instructed, and they followed her with their luggage. One by one they showed their passports to the lady behind the counter and checked in to their flight.
Conner was standing in line right behind Bree. He couldn’t explain the anxiety she caused him. He was so excited to be near her, yet terrified at the same time.
She’s just a girl, not a python, he said to himself over and over in his head. Be cool. Don’t try to be funny. Just act normal. And when you get back home you need to see a doctor about this.
“Mindy, Cindy, Lindy, and Wendy are in row thirty-one, seats A, B, C, and D,” Mrs. Peters said as she passed out their plane tickets. “And Conner and Bree are in row thirty-two, seats A and B.”
Conner’s heart was doing cartwheels. I’m sitting next to Bree! I’m sitting next to Bree! Woo-hoo! he thought. But why does that seem like the best news of my life?
He got a glimpse of Bree’s passport photo—which was, to no surprise, far better than his—and Bree caught him staring at it. Conner had to think fast so he didn’t seem like the creeper that he was.
“Your passport picture is much better than mine,” he said. “I got mine over the summer and made the mistake of asking if I was supposed to smile right as they took it.”
He flipped his passport open so she could get a glimpse of it.
“It kind of looks like you sneezed and it scared you,” Bree said blankly. There was no trace of judgment or mockery in her voice. It was a perfectly honest description.
“Would you like to check your bag, sir?” the lady at the counter asked. It took Conner a second to realize she was talking to him; no one had ever called him sir before.
“Oh, please! Take her!” Conner said and handed Betsy over to be tagged. The lady gave him a strange look, hearing that his suitcase had a gender. “I mean take it. Take the suitcase.”
Betsy was loaded onto the conveyor belt and slowly traveled farther and farther away from him. The next time he’d see her would be in Germany. Conner and the girls went through the security line and their group was boarding the plane within the hour.
The plane was massive. Conner couldn’t wrap his head around how something so big could get into the air. Even after witnessing all the magical things he had seen in the Land of Stories, it was still fascinating to him. They walked down the aisle and found their seats. Conner gulped when he realized how long he would have to spend in such a small area.
“Where is your seat, Mrs. Peters?” Mindy asked. All the seats around them were filling up fast.
“I’ll be in
first class,” Mrs. Peters said. “But don’t worry; if any of you need me, just have a flight attendant notify me. I’ll be in row one, seat A. It’s going to be a long flight, so get comfortable.”
And with that said, Mrs. Peters promptly turned on her heel and pushed her way past the oncoming travelers to the front of the plane. Conner sat down in his seat by the window and Bree sat next to him. He stared at the back of the seat in front of him for a moment; he had no idea how to start a conversation with her.
“Are you okay by the window?” Conner asked her.
Bree looked confused. “But you’re by the window,” she said.
Conner wanted to smack his head against the stupid window—they weren’t off to a good start. “Oh, right, what I meant to ask was if you wanted to sit by the window,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind switching seats.”
“I’ll be fine,” Bree said. “I’m just going to read for most of the flight.” She gestured to her bag and Conner saw it was full of thick murder-mystery novels. Bree kept getting cooler by the second.
“Great. Let me know if you change your mind,” Conner said, and returned to staring at the seat in front of him until he thought of something else to say. “So, Mrs. Peters was telling me you like to write, too.”
“Uh-huh.” Bree nodded. “Short stories mostly. I read some of yours when I TA’d for Ms. York last year—they’re cute. They remind me of classic fairy tales.”
Conner couldn’t believe his ears. “You’ve read my stories?”
“Yup,” Bree said. “I liked them a lot—especially the one about the Curvy Tree and the Walking Fish. Those were very clever.”
“Thanks,” Conner said, and blushed a deep shade of red. Not only had she read them but she also remembered them. “Those were originally called the Curvy Giraffe and the Flying Frog, but I changed the titles to sound more… um… realistic. What kind of stories do you write?”
“I just finished one called ‘Cemetery of the Undead,’ ” Bree said. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
Conner nodded a little too much to seem normal. “Sounds lovely.”