by MJ Ware
But, of course, my life couldn’t be that simple. Just as my hands started turning an odd shade of red, there was a knock at the door, followed by, "Priss, it’s Dad."
Chapter 4 - Dubai, Brazil
"Priss, are you okay in there?" Dad asked when I didn’t respond immediately.
"Um, uh…" I stuttered, not thinking quickly enough to give a good answer.
Then he busted through the door like a cop in one of those Lifetime movies where the hero has to save the teenage daughter of his love interest from a coke-dealing pimp. I wasn’t too surprised, though. It wasn’t the first time he had knocked my door right off its hinges. Dad was always a little overprotective when it came to the safety of his children, especially me for some reason.
"What’s wrong? What’s going on?" His eyes were wild as he surveyed my room for some hidden danger.
"I’m fine, Daddy. I’m totally fine," I said, rolling my eyes.
My dad pushed his glasses farther up his nose and adjusted his tie. Yes, my stay-at-home dad wore a tie in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. At six foot five and nearly three hundred pounds of solid muscle, he looked too darn scary if he wore anything less formal. I mean, with his bald head and mysterious tattoos, the man was a spandex leotard away from looking like the next WWE champion.
"What are you doing?" he asked, resting his eyes on me for the first time and noting my awkward stance.
Deciding the only way out of this was a "Prissy Fit," as Josh so lovingly referred to them, I yelled, "Oh my God, Dad. You can’t just bust into a girl’s room unannounced! I’m a girl. I need privacy. What if I had been doing… girl stuff? You’re so embarrassing. I want to die. Just die."
"Sorry, Priss. I thought you were in trouble," he said, turning around to pick my door up off the floor. He could be so paranoid sometimes. He wouldn’t even let my school put my picture in the yearbook, saying he was afraid of child predators or something."So, what kind of girl stuff do you call that move there?" he asked.
I looked up at my hands still reaching for the sky. My fingers had stopped pulsing and I felt the hot flash passing. Now I just had to figure out a way to answer Dad without making him totally spazz.
"Uh, it’s a new dance move," I said, waving my hands in the air.
"Really?" he said, joining me in my made up dance to imaginary music.
I stopped moving and stared at him, holding in laughter. "You look ridiculous, Daddy." I mean, he really did look crazy. Imagine a body-building secret service agent trying to get jiggy. That about sums it up.
"I look ridiculous? You started it." He wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.
"What’s going on? What happened?" Tai said over the phone. I looked around for the phone and noticed that it had slipped under the bed. But I heard her so clearly, like she was right next to me. How could that be?
"Did you hear that?" I asked my Dad, thinking maybe he had added some new technology to the antique piece of trash I called a phone.
"What?" he replied completely confused.
Hmph. Guess not. Maybe I had super hearing as well. Oh, that would be awesome. It would come in handy for those sneak attacks from the devil twins.
"Nothing, never mind." I sat down on the bed and crossed my legs Indian style.
"Are you sure you’re okay? You look… different to me."
Oh, no. Could he tell I was somehow turning into a freak? Oh, how embarrassing.
"I guess you’re just growing up," he said, shrugging off his concern. "We have a video chat with your mom in half an hour; then you can help me finish dinner. I’m making your favorite: spinach lasagna, broccoli casserole, and lemon meringue pie for dessert." My dad rubbed his hands together, excited over his homemade dinner.
"Okay, Dad."
"And don’t be late. It’s almost midnight in Dubai and your mom needs to get to sleep."
"Dubai? What part of Brazil is that?" I asked, thinking Dubai really didn’t sound like a Portuguese word. But, hey, what did I know?
"Um, it’s... it’s, um, in the east part." He looked uneasy. His blue eyes darted back and forth around the room. Was he hiding something from me?
My dad picked up the door, stepped through the gaping hole, and then leaned it against the doorframe to give me as much privacy as possible. I knew he’d probably reattach it after dinner. I wasn’t too worried about it. What I was worried about was the Dubai-Brazil thing. I mean, I wasn’t any kind of geography genius or anything, but I knew that Brazil was in South America. There was no way any part of Brazil could be like nine hours ahead of Pennsylvania. It didn’t make any sense. An image of a map popped in my brain. It was the map on the wall of my sixth grade teacher’s classroom. Why could I suddenly see every detail of it in my mind? There was no Dubai in Brazil. In fact, according to my suddenly perfect memory, Dubai was in the Middle East. Right smack dab in the middle of the Middle East. My heart sank. What was he hiding from me?
Suddenly, I remembered Tai was still on the phone.
"You there, Tai?" I asked after grabbing the phone and resting it between my ear and shoulder. I needed my hands free so I could dig out the globe stuffed under my bed. Maybe I was remembering wrong. I had to be sure. I had to know.
"Priss, Dubai is nowhere near Brazil," she said immediately. She’d heard the entire conversation. "Your dad lied to you," she added.
"Yeah, I know."
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My Sparkling Misfortune (The Lakeland Knight)
By Laura Lond
I hid in the nearby bushes and waited. Nothing was happening for so long that I began to wonder whether the whole thing was a sham… Then I heard a loud crack in the air followed by a big splash. The first gormack arrived for a swim.
On my way there, I had decided that I would not try to catch the first one I see. I would just watch how it all happens to be better prepared. The spirit materialized in midair—that’s what had caused the cracking sound—and fell in the lake. He swam underwater for a while, and all I could see was the dark purplish glow coming from his body; then he emerged… Huge, barrel-chested, half man, half beast with spikes on his head and along his back, mean piercing eyes and powerful jaws. I would say that he was magnificent if he hadn’t eerily reminded me of my monster. Even though the resemblance was not striking, it was bad enough to make me want to hide better.
As he swam with obvious pleasure, his purple glow diminished. I checked my watch. He spent almost exactly four minutes in the lake, then climbed ashore and sat on a rock, probably recovering his strength. When his glow regained its intensity, the gormack stood up, stretched, and disappeared with the same cracking sound.
All right. So now I’d seen it. Things seemed to work exactly as the scribe had told me. The only question I had was, Are they all so big? Because, as much as I’d love to have a creature like the one I just saw in my service, I wasn’t sure I could overpower it. I am a strong warrior, make no mistake about that; not many can stand against me in battle. But the way that gormack looked… I just had to be reasonable. After all, there were no second chances in this game.
Two loud cracks interrupted my thoughts. Two spirits at once?? I cautiously looked out. Yes, there were two of them, and they were fighting. Quite viciously, too, I might add. One glowed in blue, the other bright orange, like fire; both had thin swords of the same colors, glowing as well, and the swords clashed with incredible speed and force, raising tons of splashes—they fought in the lake, although close to the shore, on a shallow spot.
These two were considerably smaller than the first, which answered my question. They did not look like beasts, either; if it wasn’t for the glow, each could pass for a human, a slender yet strongly shaped man.
They kept fighting. Each seemed intent on not letting the other out of the water, obviously trying to use its weakening effect and ignoring the fact that it was weakening them both. The orange one appeared stronger, he was attacking more and once managed to
knock his enemy down. The blue one got back on his feet quickly enough, but I could see that he was losing ground.
I checked my watch. They’d been splashing for a little over three minutes. I had to think fast here. What if I grab one now? Will the other one let me catch him or turn against me? Logically, he shouldn’t interfere, but if being captured by a human is considered such a bad thing, who knows, maybe the other gormack will forget whatever disagreement they had and choose to help out. On the other hand, gormacks are evil spirits. "Evil" and "help out" don’t go together.
I figured I’d have to risk it.
Three and a half minutes… Three forty five… Three fifty. Now!
I leapt out of the bushes, ran in the water, and grabbed the orange one from the back. I wanted him, of course, since he’d proved to be stronger. After the half-second of the initial surprise, the gormack began to struggle; I held him with all my might. The blue one let out a triumphant laugh.
"That’s what you get for messing with me!"
Whew. I was right. He wasn’t helping.
The blue gormack hurried to get out of the lake.
"What are you doing, silly mortal?!" the orange one demanded. "Let me go!"
"I don’t think so," I answered, fighting hard to keep hold of him. He was still very strong, just as the scribe had warned. I strained my every muscle to its limit, hardly able to breathe. I was sure glad I didn’t go for the big purple guy!
"What do you want?!"
Oh, so he wouldn’t threaten me? And wouldn’t offer anything? He’s already asking what I want? The fellow was getting desperate… which meant I could ask for a little more.
"Six years of your service."
The blue one laughed from the shore. "Happy captivity!" he shouted. "I hope you will think of me every miserable day!"
Crack! He was gone.
My gormack was supposed to be growing weaker each second, but I couldn’t feel it. He swung me like a rag, trying to break free, and my arms were getting numb, but, somehow, I still held on.
"Six years of service!" I repeated. "I will not release you until you pledge it!"
Did he really stagger, just a little, or was I imagining it?...
I wasn’t.
"Very well. Be it as you wish."
He agreed!! My overstrained muscles begged for a break, but I couldn’t let go of him yet; that would be a fatal mistake. I had to seal the deal.
"So do you promise to serve me faithfully for six years?"
"Within the laws of both worlds, that of spirits and of men, yes."
Within the laws, well, that was fine. The scribe had told me about that. No spirit could break those laws.
"To act in my best interests?"
"Yes."
"Not to lie to me?"
"Yes."
"And never seek retaliation for being captured?"
"Yes."
"Abyss take you if you break your word?"
"Naturally."
Naturally? Was he leaving some kind of a loophole?
"No tricks! Say, ‘Yes, I promise, the abyss takes me if I break my word!’"
He said it.
At last, I could loosen the grip. Oh, my arms, shoulders, back… They’d be aching for days.
The spirit waded to the shore. I cautiously followed, still unable to fully believe it. I did it, didn’t I? I had a gormack now. My own, for six full years.
He sat down on the sand. I figured I’d give him time to accept the unfortunate change in circumstances. I could use some rest as well, so I lowered myself on a large rock a couple of steps away and looked at my prize. As I have said earlier, he could easily pass for a man, especially now that he’d stopped glowing—a lean young fellow with well-defined features, dressed in a short tunic, breeches, and tall boots. His hair was still flaming orange, but his skin turned the color of regular human tan. I waited for the glow to return, but minutes passed, and it was not happening. Was something wrong?
"Your glow is gone," I said. "I hope you have not lost all your strength."
He looked up at me and, quite unexpectedly, grinned.
"That would be a disappointment, wouldn’t it? Don’t worry, it’s just because I am settling in the physical world."
Well, at least he was not too upset about it.
"Has this happened to you for the first time?"
"I would think those to whom it had happened once will not come to the lake again."
"You have a point." I looked him over again and noticed that he had no weapon. "Where is your sword?"
"Always with me." With that, the shining orange blade showed up in his hand, and before I could blink it was pointed at me. "Why? You want to taste it?"
Uh-oh. So he was a little upset.
"Hey now. You promised to be loyal to me."
"True." He smiled and removed the sword. "But I never promised not to have fun."
A feisty one. It looked like I’d have to teach him some manners.
"You must do what I tell you, and I’m telling you to be respectful. Is that understood?"
He gave a quick bow.
"Yes, Mr. I-Don’t-Know-What-To-Call-You."
Well, he had a point here, too. I had not yet introduced myself.
"‘My lord’ or ‘master’ will do very well," I said, "but if you wish to know my name, it is Lord Arkus of Blackriver Castle. Now, what is yours? I assume you have a name, too?"
"Of course. I am Tulip."
"Tulip?? What kind of a name is that for an evil spirit?"
"I am no evil spirit."
I gave him a long, hard look.
"…Don’t you joke like that. I appreciate a good bit of humor, but not of the kind that makes one’s heart stop."
"But I am not joking. I am not an evil spirit, I am what you call a sparkling."
The world faded before my eyes.
"WHAT?? A sparkling?! Are you telling me I have caught a sparkling?! A goody-goody spirit that helps heroes, watches over little children, and messes up villains’ plans?!"
"Well, that’s a rather broad definition, but yes, generally speaking, that’s what a sparkling does. What seems to be the problem?"
I wanted to scream. And I did.
"I WANTED A GORMACK!!!"
"Oops. Your mistake. You should have picked Ragnar then. The one I was fighting."
I grabbed him by the tunic collar.
"Why didn’t you tell me who you are?!"
"I do not recall you asking."
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The Troubled Tweens: Jinnie Wishmaker
By D. D. Roy
Grandma’s new walking cane swished through the air like a Samurai sword, definitely aiming for Uncle Martin’s head.
"You are not taking these children," she said, pointing the rubber end of the stick at his nose.
Uncle Martin took a step back and unfurled a sheaf of paper. "Ma, it’s a done deal. I have the power of attorney right here."
Jinnie braced herself against the doorframe as she and Bryan peeked down the hall to the living room. Her brother leaned close, his face next to her ear. "What’s a power of a turny?"
"Shhh."
Grandma’s cane wavered as her arms started to give out. "This is the only home they’ve known since their parents disappeared."
Uncle Martin took the cane away, setting it against the wall. "I know. But we need to think of your health."
"I’m healthy as a mule."
Uncle Martin shook his head, rubbing his fat moustache. "You just spent four days in the hospital."
Don’t let him do it, Jinnie thought. Please don’t let him take us.
Grandma stepped closer to Uncle Martin. Her stride still hitched from her fall at the supermarket. "What will your brother say when he comes back and you’ve made off with his children?"
Uncle Martin rolled the papers back into a tight coil. "It’s been a year with no word, Ma. You know he’s not coming back."
Grandm
a pressed her hand against her chest and lowered herself onto the sofa. "I don’t believe that."
She was going to give in. Jinnie backed down the hall. "We have to run away," she told Bryan, grasping his arm. "Now."
Bryan’s face went all splotchy, like it always did when he was upset. "To Brazil? To find Mom and Dad?"
Jinnie pushed him toward the bedroom they shared. "If the police can’t find them, then we can’t either."
"Where are we going?" Bryan plopped onto his bed.
Jinnie snatched her ragged backpack from the corner. "I don’t know. Anywhere."
Newspaper clippings about their parents covered her bulletin board. "Protestors disappear in Amazon Basin." "Authorities call off search for activist couple." Jinnie began unpinning the articles and shoving them into her bag.
Bryan slid to the floor and pulled his suitcase out from under the bed, sniffing. Jinnie glanced at him now and then as he loaded his electronic sets with elaborate creations made of circuit boards, broken toys, and wire. He was only nine. She’d never been able to toughen him up, but she couldn’t go without him. Nobody should have to live with Aunt Barb and Uncle Martin. They were rich, big-headed snobs.
A shadow crossed her as the tall figure of their uncle stood in the doorway.
"You’re packing already," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Good little Wishners. But we’re going to give you a couple days. We’ll send a driver after you." He knelt down by Bryan. "You want to ride in a limo, don’t ya? Be one of the cool kids?"
Jinnie froze over the open dresser drawer, her face burning. How could this creepy guy be her dad’s brother? Her parents wanted to improve the planet, not own it.
Bryan closed his suitcase. "Does it have a swimming pool inside?"
Uncle Martin chuckled as Aunt Barb pushed her way into the room with a swish of satin scarves and flowing sleeves. She rushed to Bryan, pressing her hands on his cheeks. "You won’t have to be poor one more day, baby dear. We’re going to take very good care of you." Very came out more like "vewwy." Baby talk.
Jinnie stifled a groan and started tugging shirts from the drawer. Let them think they were packing for them. Her aunt and uncle were like the egg people she’d made one time at school. Hollow on the inside, fancy and decorated on the shell.