Magic and Other Misdemeanors

by Michael Buckley

  “I suspected as much.” Canis snapped. He turned and crossed the lawn, disappearing into the woods.

  The next morning, Sabrina woke to the loud thumping of people rushing up and down the steps. She shook her sister awake and pulled her out of bed. When they threw open their door, they found Uncle Jake and Mr. Canis moving furniture out of their grandmother’s room and down the stairs.

  “What’s going on?” she said.

  “We’ve got yet another big day ahead,” Granny said as she stepped out of her room. “We’re having a yard sale. Get dressed and come down right away. We could use all the hands we can get.”

  The girls did as they were told and found a crowd gathered on the front lawn, browsing over tables covered with lamps, old books, vases, and assorted knickknacks. All of the items had little price tags on them. Granny sat at a rickety card table with a little gray cash box.

  Uncle Jake met the girls on the front porch and together they gazed out at nearly all their possessions. It almost made Sabrina cry to see the old woman selling so many things from her past. “Why is she doing this?”

  “We’re a little short on the tax bill,” her uncle said.

  “How short?

  “Three hundred thousand dollars,” he said.

  “Does she really think she’s going to make that kind of money at a yard sale?” Sabrina asked.

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Uncle Jake said.

  For most of the morning, people circulated through the tables, haggling over prices and chatting with neighbors. Granny stayed cheery throughout and never seemed insulted when she was told one of her prized possessions wasn’t worth what she was asking for it. She rarely turned down an offer, even if it was ridiculously low.

  “Relda, tell me about this sword,” a golden-haired man said as he studied a blade. Sabrina recognized it immediately. It was a gift from Grandpa Basil and it had hung over her grandmother’s bed since the girls had moved in.

  “It’s a samurai sword from Japan, Sir Kay,” Granny explained. “It’s Shinto period—a shogun’s blade. You can tell from the cherry blossoms carved into the steel. I think it’s easily worth ten thousand dollars.”

  Sir Kay removed the sword from its hilt and examined the blade closely. “How much are you asking for it?”

  “I’ll take whatever you can offer.”

  “I’ll give you a hundred bucks,” Sir Kay said.

  Granny sighed. “Sold.”

  “Granny, no!” Sabrina cried. “You love that sword.”

  “It’s just a sword, Sabrina, and we need the money,” Granny replied.

  Glinda the Good Witch came over carrying an umbrella stand in the shape of an elephant foot. “You don’t happen to be selling anything enchanted, are you, Relda?”

  “I’m afraid not,” the old woman said.

  “Oh well, I’ll take this,” the witch said, somewhat disappointed. She handed Granny a ten-dollar bill and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Mom, you’re just giving this stuff away,” Uncle Jake complained. He crossed the lawn, waving an old book in the air. “This is a very rare copy of the Necronomicon. There’s only four or five of these left in existence, and all you want is ten bucks?”

  “You and your brother spilled fruit punch on all the pages and then ripped out all the magic spells when you were nine,” Granny said. “Its value dropped dramatically.”

  Uncle Jake frowned and tossed it onto a table, then turned to a crate of old records. “You’re selling my Johnny Cash albums? These are worth more than the Necronomicon!”

  “Granny, if it would help, I could set up a lemonade stand,” Daphne offered.

  The old woman pulled the little girl close for a hug. “A wonderful idea!”

  “Yeah, if we sell each glass for thirty thousand dollars,” Sabrina said under her breath. “Where’s Charming?”

  “He’s keeping a low profile,” Granny said, gesturing back to the house.

  Sabrina spotted him peering through the curtains. She nudged her sister so she could see the prince as well.

  Just then, a police car pulled up and parked along the road. Nottingham stepped out of it and approached the yard. Sabrina could see he had a white bandage over his nose, and two black eyes.

  “Hello, Sheriff,” Granny said, trying to sound chipper.

  “Selling your trash, are you, Grimm?” the sheriff sneered. “I doubt you could give away most of this.”

  “Well, you know what they say, one person’s trash is another person’s treasure,” the old woman replied.

  Nottingham laughed. “You know what else they say? There’s a sucker born every minute.” He picked up an African mask Sabrina had seen in her grandmother’s bedroom, flipped it over, and dropped it back to the table as if it were a wad of used tissue.

  “Seems as if you’ve had an accident,” Granny said.

  Nottingham’s lip curled. “Yes . . . an accident.”

  “You need to be more careful,” Granny said.

  “Thank you for your heartfelt advice,” Nottingham seethed. “By the way, you wouldn’t be selling any full-length mirrors this afternoon, would you?”

  Granny smiled and shook her head. “Not today. Perhaps you’d be interested in a paperweight or a pair of sunglasses! No one would see your eyes.”

  Nottingham sneered. “Perhaps I should buy a chair. It might be fun to watch your desperate little play. Though I know how it’s going to end—in foreclosure.”

  Uncle Jake brought over a high-backed chair and set it down. “This one is twenty bucks.”

  Nottingham laughed. He paid Granny Relda and sat down. “Money well spent,” he sang.

  He was grinning like it was his birthday when former deputies Boarman and Swineheart arrived. They were two of the Three Little Pigs, former police officers and good friends of the Grimms.

  “Hello!” Granny said. “Can I interest you in anything? We’ve got some great bargains here.”

  Boarman and Swineheart nodded and snorted at Nottingham.

  “How much money have you raised so far, Relda?” Swineheart asked.

  “Oh, I think we’ve gotten a thousand dollars so far,” the old woman said sheepishly.

  Sabrina cringed. The sale had been going on for four hours and they weren’t even close to raising the full three-hundred-thousand-dollar tax bill.

  Boarman picked up a letter opener. It had a marble handle and roses engraved in the steel. “This is beautiful,” the portly man said.

  “Yes, my husband bought that for me when we made a stop in Paris,” Granny said wistfully.

  “I’ll take it,” Boarman said. He reached into his pocket and took out an enormous roll of money, then handed it to Granny Relda.

  “Mr. Boarman, you’ve given me too much. The letter opener is only ten dollars,” the old woman said.

  Boarman smiled and shook his head. “I think you’re wrong. The price tag says ten thousand dollars.”

  Sabrina was stunned silent, as was nearly everyone else. Everyone but Nottingham, that is. The man was so shocked, he nearly fell out of his chair.

  When it was Swineheart’s turn, he selected a set of silver steak knives in an oak box. “I’ll take these,” he said, tossing an even bigger wad of cash on the table. Sabrina noticed the price tag said twenty-five dollars. She guessed Swineheart had paid as much as twenty-five thousand.

  “Gentlemen!” Granny said. “This is much too generous.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Nottingham cried.

  That’s when Briar Rose appeared. Behind her was a group of Everafters the family had known for years: Mr. Seven, King Arthur, Geppetto . . . the line went on and on. Each was carrying a huge stack of money.

  “You’ve been good friends to us,” Briar said, then turned to Uncle Jake. “And I can’t exactly date a guy who’s homeless.”

  “But this is outrageous,” Granny said. “I can’t accept this money. You’re giving away a small fortune.”

  “
No worries,” Mr. Seven said as he approached the table. “We live in Ferryport Landing. What are we going to spend our money on anyway?”

  The crowd bought every little knickknack they could for ridiculous sums of money. With each sale, Nottingham seemed to have a new apoplectic fit. He fumed and raged and threatened, but the sales went on.

  As the girls watched from the porch, they heard a tapping behind them and realized Prince Charming was trying to get their attention. They went inside to meet with him.

  “What are you doing? Why aren’t you working on the case?” he demanded.

  “We’re stuck helping out with the yard sale,” Sabrina answered. “You know, we’re only kids. It’s not like we can just hop in a car and drive downtown.”

  “Not again, at least,” Daphne said, reminding her sister of the time they had taken the car for a spin.

  “Well, haven’t you ever snuck out before? This is the perfect opportunity. Your grandmother is distracted. Take the magic detector and go! If she asks for you, I’ll tell her you’re upstairs fussing with your hair or playing dolls.”

  “Is that what you think we do with our free time?” Sabrina said, aghast.

  “Just go!”

  The girls raced up stairs to retrieve the magic detector and nearly knocked over Puck in the hallway.

  “What are you doing hiding up here?” Sabrina asked.

  “There’s hard work going on outside and, as you know, I’m allergic,” he said. “I once carried a box for the old woman and nearly had to be hospitalized. Why aren’t you two helping?”

  “Uh . . . we’re just going to our room,” Sabrina stammered.

  “Do you smell that?” Puck asked. “Smell what?” Daphne said.

  “A lie. I smell a lie and it’s stinky. What are you two up to?”

  Sabrina knew the fairy would never give up, so she dragged him into her bedroom with her sister in tow. “We’re investigating the stolen magical items on our own,” Sabrina said.

  “And you don’t want the old lady or Canis to find out? That’s incredibly sneaky and dishonest.”

  The girls nodded with shame.

  “I’m in,” Puck said. “We can crawl out of your bedroom window and I’ll fly you wherever you want.”

  “You want to change your pants, first,” Daphne said.

  Puck glanced down at his filthy jeans. “No. Why?”

  “They don’t fit you anymore.”

  Sabrina studied the boy’s pants. Normally the cuffs dragged on the ground and into whatever Puck stomped through, but now they were several inches above his ankles.

  “They must have shrunk in the wash,” Puck said.

  “Since when do you wash your clothes?”

  Puck shrugged. “Are we going to do this or not?”

  Daphne grabbed the little black ball that detected magic from the bureau and slipped it into her pocket. Then she joined Sabrina and Puck at the window. They opened it and Puck leaped out. A second later his wings were flapping and he was hovering outside. He reached out his hand for Sabrina’s. She eyed it as if it were something she didn’t understand, like algebra or diagramming sentences. She snatched it quickly before the boy threw a fit, though she caught her sister’s grin out of the corner of her eye. Before she had seen their future together, Sabrina wouldn’t have thought twice about holding the boy’s hand, except to remember to wash later with generous amounts of antibacterial soap and a wire brush. But now even something so simple seemed to have so many complicated layers to it.

  “Don’t you say a word,” Sabrina grumbled to her sister.

  In no time, the trio was sailing above the treetops out of sight of their family and friends on the front lawn. Once they were over Main Street, Daphne began to shimmer and vibrate.

  “I’m picking up something,” she said.

  “Remember what Charming said,” Sabrina replied. “Concentrate on what we’re looking for. Think about the clock and the wand and the water.”

  Daphne agreed and closed her eyes tightly. “I can’t explain why, but I feel like we should head toward the river.”

  Puck dropped them off out of sight of the human townspeople, which was harder than it sounded. The streets were quite crowded with people trying to sell their jewelry and watches. It was Friday—the last day to pay the taxes. People were desperate.

  The children walked down the road as Daphne described the sensation she got from the magic detector. As they continued, the feeling got stronger, which was good, but Daphne was visibly, violently shaking, which was bad. Sabrina was sure someone would notice eventually. They walked down to the end of the street, where Ms. Rose’s coffee shop, the radio station, and a few other businesses sat. There the vibration was stronger than ever.

  “Are you OK?” Puck asked as he watched the little girl turn into a blur.

  “I feel funky,” Daphne said. Her voice sounded like she was talking through an electric fan. “I have a feeling we’re really close. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly where they are, though. I think I need more practice.”

  Suddenly, the vibrations stopped. “I need a break,” the little girl continued. “I think I might ralph.”

  They stopped outside of Sacred Grounds and spotted Briar Rose through the window. She was sitting with several women, showing them the coffee mug she had purchased at Granny’s yard sale. Next to her at the table were Ms. White, Dr. Cindy, and another woman with long, flowing red hair whom the girls had never seen before. They were all trying to console Ms. White, who was in tears.

  “Charming is a jerk,” Daphne said as she looked through the window. “He’s broken her heart. He should at least call her.”

  “I think he’s trying to protect her,” Sabrina said.

  “Let’s go in and try to cheer her up.”

  “We’re wasting time,” Sabrina said. “We need to keep looking for the stolen items.”

  “I don’t care,” Daphne declared. “Ms. White is my friend.”

  “Fine with me,” Puck chimed in. “I’m starving. I’m getting in line for a muffin.”

  The children entered the coffee shop, and the girls crossed the room to greet the four women.

  “Hello!” Daphne said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hello, girls,” Briar Rose replied. “Taking a break from the big sale?”

  The girls nodded.

  “What’s wrong, Ms. White?” Daphne asked.

  “Snow is having a difficult day,” Cindy said.

  “I’m just worried about Billy,” the teacher said with a sniffle.

  Sabrina and Daphne shared a look.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Sabrina said.

  “That’s what I’ve been telling her,” the fourth woman said. Her red hair framed her creamy complexion and green eyes. To Sabrina she looked like a glamorous star from an old black-and-white movie. She reached over and shook Sabrina’s hand. “You must be Henry’s girls. I’m Rapunzel.”

  Daphne let out a squeal.

  “She does that for everyone?” Cindy asked with a laugh. “I thought I was special.”

  “We’re trying to cheer up Snow,” Rapunzel said. “William doesn’t deserve your tears, girlfriend.”

  “She’s right, Snow,” Briar Rose said. “Whenever his pride is hurt, he runs off—hunting, he used to call it, but I knew better. He was sulking. Losing the election hurt his fragile ego.”

  “And William does have his childish moments,” Cindy added. “I was married to the man for nearly a hundred years. He’d throw his tantrums, disappear, and then show up without any explanation. He’ll be back.”

  “But I can’t believe he wouldn’t call, write, leave me some way of knowing he was OK,” Ms. White sobbed.

  Rapunzel sighed. “You thought you were different.”

  Snow wiped her eyes. “What?”

  “You thought you were different from us,” the red-haired beauty repeated. “You thought that because you two had found one another after five hundred years that your love was special.
I thought the same thing. All the magic that surrounded my love affair with William, both emotionally and literally . . . I mean, that’s why they call our stories fairy tales, right—love and magic and riding off into the sunset together?”

  “Rapunzel, you’ve got this all wrong,” Ms. White replied. “I didn’t think I was special.”

  “The thing is . . .” Cindy said, “you are special.”

  Rapunzel and Briar Rose shifted uncomfortably.

  “I knew it. We all knew it,” Cindy continued. “We’re all amazing women: beautiful, smart, capable. But we weren’t Snow White.”

  “Cindy—”

  But the blond beauty stopped Ms. White. “This isn’t out of anger, Snow. I’m over that. But I’m a person that understands relationships. I had a family that was completely nuts, and I was married to a guy who was more boy than man. I know the truth when it’s looking me in the face. He never got over you, and that’s why I left him. William has always loved you. Not that he didn’t love Briar, or Rapunzel, or me. I believe he tried to be a good husband to each of us. But his heart was always yours. You were the first woman in his life, and when you left him at the altar, he never recovered.”

  “We were too young. It was all happening so fast,” Ms. White explained.

  “I wish I had been that smart,” Rapunzel said. Briar Rose nodded in agreement.

  Cindy reached over and took Ms. White’s hand. “For a long time I resented you, Snow, because I was always competing with you. Your spirit hung over our home like a ghost. Occasionally, we would be at a party and hear about something that was going on in your life and his eyes would fix on whoever was saying it. For days he would be distant, distracted. He’d spend a week at the stables, claiming the horses needed attention, but I wasn’t stupid.”

  “Is this true?” Ms. White said, looking at the other women in the group. They all nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Snow, I don’t think Cindy is chastising you,” Rapunzel said.

  “No, in fact, Snow, since I’ve come to know you I adore you, and I don’t regret anything—my Tom is all the prince I will ever need. What I’m trying to say to you is that William’s love for you is different. It is troubling that he hasn’t tried to contact you.”

  “There goes Dr. Cindy,” Rapunzel said. “Could you turn off the honesty you give your callers and remember we’re trying to cheer this woman up?”