Marigold Star

by Elise Primavera

  “Are you a ghost?” Winnie demanded. “Because if you are—”

  “I’m Super Scary Shadow Boy!” a voice proclaimed.

  Marigold’s star lit the wall where his shadow loomed. The shadow had fangs and claws and a long slithery tail. The ghost children stopped in midair. All laughter ceased. All motion stopped. There was a collective, audible gasp. The ghost children flew around the room, crashing into one another as they all headed to the same place—the window—which they squeezed through and flew off into the night in terror.

  The shadow boy sprang onto the window ledge. “Magic wand, give me wings to fly!” he commanded. Immediately his dark shape sprouted wings, which made him look even scarier. He leaped into the air and was gone.

  Winnie raced to the window and leaned out so far it looked as if she might fly out of it too. “Come back here with my wand, Super Scary Shadow Boy!”

  Marigold could have said, “Your wand? It’s my wand!” but she was too stunned to speak. In less than half an hour, she’d landed in the Human World, lost her wand to a human and now to a shadow boy, and because of all this, Bramblycrumbly could crumble and turn to brambles in only a matter of hours.

  The magic flying carpet floated in the air knee-high before Winnie, ready to do her bidding. “I’m going to get that magic wand back if it’s the last thing I do. I’m not afraid of some stupid shadow!” She pointed to the flying carpet. “Get on,” she ordered Marigold.

  “I don’t think this is such a good idea.” Marigold eyed the carpet, thinking it looked dangerous.

  Winnie shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She hopped on the carpet. “Magic flying carpet . . . fly out this bedroom window!”

  VROOM! VROOM!

  Marigold just managed to climb aboard before they zoomed out the window.

  Winnie shouted into the starry night. “WHEE-E-E-E!”

  Marigold held on to the sides of the carpet with every ounce of her strength and wished for the hundredth time that she’d figured out how to fly.

  The carpet circled Winnie’s house, which was several stories high and sat atop a tall lonely mountain with just a full moon to keep it company. The only other sign of life came from off in the distance, where a wisp of smoke drifted out from the chimney of a small house.

  They were traveling at a good clip. Several petals flew off Marigold’s head. Her eyes teared, and her arms ached from holding on so tightly to the magic flying carpet, but she had only one thing on her mind: Bramblycrumbly. Exactly how long did she have, she wondered, to make friends with this girl?

  “Winnie?” Marigold yelled over the wind. “Would you happen to know about what time you’ll be turning nine tomorrow?”

  “Who cares?” Winnie yelled back.

  They flew down, down, down, past lots of little stores, a park, and some houses. Thankfully the carpet took on a more sensible speed as it headed out of town. Marigold ventured a look below, where a huge dark, scary-looking forest—thick with trees—loomed along the horizon. A chill ran up her spine because it looked like Spookety Forest!

  Marigold tried again. “Could you give me an estimate of what time you’ll turn nine? Like seven a.m.? Or twelve noon?”

  “Who knows!” Winnie yelled. She looked like she was having the time of her life.

  Marigold worried. What if this girl turned nine at 12:01 or 12:02? How much time would that leave for her to complete the Invis-O-Friend spell? It couldn’t be more than a few hours till midnight. Could she make friends with the most unfriendly girl in town by then?

  The magic flying carpet swooped over the tops of trees, and Winnie spotted something. “Look, there’s a boy down there!” She leaned precariously over the side of the carpet. “Maybe he’s seen my magic wand—I’m going to find out.” Winnie ordered the carpet to land. “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t see my magic flying carpet. No way is some dopey boy going to take it away from me like that stupid shadow took my wand!”

  The carpet obeyed. It spiraled to earth and landed behind some bushes. Winnie rolled it up and put it under one arm. She peeked over the foliage at the boy, who paced in front of a wrought iron gate. Marigold could see it was exactly the same as the entrance to Spookety Forest in Bramblycrumbly. “Seepage!” she whispered for the second time that night. It had happened again!

  Winnie peered over the bush, sizing up the boy. “I don’t like the looks of him one little bit.”

  Marigold thought just the opposite. “I’ll bet he’s nice.”

  “I’ll bet he stinks.” Winnie stepped out from behind the bushes.

  The boy looked startled.

  “What’s your name?” she barked.

  “I’m Norman.” He had bright red hair and freckles. His ears stuck out and so did his two front teeth. He tilted his head. “Hey, aren’t you the most unfriendly girl in town, called Winifred or something?”

  “Winnie,” she snapped.

  Marigold stood beside Winnie. “Ask him what time it is.”

  Winnie glanced at Marigold. “What is it with you and the time?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Norman asked.

  “None of your beeswax,” Winnie replied. “What time is it?”

  Norman looked at his watch. “It’s eight thirty-three.”

  Marigold calculated that this left her at least three hours and twenty-seven minutes to complete the spell or else Bramblycrumbly might be toast.

  Winnie folded her arms. “What are you doing here?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I’m looking for my dog,” Norman replied. “He ran off into that forest— Are you wearing your pajamas under that cape?”

  “I was going to bed early because tomorrow is my birthday and I need my rest. I’m having a fabulous birthday party.” Winnie narrowed her eyes. “And you’re not invited.”

  The boy shrugged. “That’s okay,” he said good-naturedly.

  Winnie scowled. “So, if you’re looking for your dog, what are you standing here for?”

  “I just saw a ghost in those woods!” Norman pointed his chin at the ominous wall of trees behind him and shuddered.

  Winnie’s eyes lit up. “Which way did he go?”

  “Who? The ghost? Or Meatball?” Norman asked.

  “Who’s Meatball?” Winnie huffed.

  “My dog,” Norman said.

  Winnie rolled her eyes. “Stupid name for a dog,” she said under her breath as she headed for the entrance to the forest.

  “Aren’t you afraid of ghosts?” Norman called after her.

  “Nope,” Winnie replied. She opened the gate. Marigold thought it creaked as eerily in the Human World as it had in Bramblycrumbly.

  Winnie marched off into the forest, calling for the shadow boy to give her back her wand. Norman followed, calling for his dog, Meatball. Marigold entered behind them into the gloom, worrying. With every step she repeated the words from the Invis-O-Friend Spell: laughter, joy, advice, sorrow . . . laughter, joy, advice, sorrow—all the things she’d have to share with a human who’d never had a friend in her entire life, and Marigold only had a little over three hours to do this. It seemed impossible. She squinted into the dark forest and saw ghosts weaving their way in and out of trees. They spotted Winnie right away and dive-bombed her, trying to grab her bag of candy.

  “Why, you!” Winnie windmilled her arms. “I ought to knock your blocks off!”

  It wasn’t going to be easy to get Winnie to share anything with Marigold, but at least Marigold could share some advice with Winnie. “Winnie, why don’t you try being friendly and just give them a piece?”

  “Give them my candy?” Winnie said, appalled at even the thought. “I’ll give them a knuckle sandwich!” The girl made a fist and shook it at the ghost children.

  Norman hid behind a tree. “Um, I don’t think you should make them mad.”

  Marigold looked around frantically for the smallest flicker or movement, some indication that the shadow boy was near. She strained her eyes to see the least bit of sparkle from her magic
wand. Sure enough, in the shade of a giant rhododendron was a telltale glint. She took some uncertain steps toward what she thought might be the shadow boy’s hiding place, just like she had only hours ago when she and Lightning had first spotted him in Spookety Forest. Sure enough, there he was! They locked eyes. His were soft and warm. She was positive that, in that moment, all he wanted was to be friends and give her back her wand. Marigold slowly reached for it. The next moment, the ghost children shouted for help, and the shadow boy slipped away into the brush.

  “Marigold Star! The Winnie won’t give us her candy!”

  Marigold watched as Winnie teased the ghosts. She took candy from the bag, only to pop it into her own mouth. “MMMMM, delicious!” She dangled the bag in front of them. When they tried to grab it, she pulled it out of reach. She held the bag at arm’s length to do the same trick again, but then without warning, a long dog with short legs and a fuzzy snout bounded over a bush onto the trail. He grabbed Winnie’s bag of candy and raced into the forest with it.

  “Give me back my candy!” Winnie sputtered.

  “Meatball!” Norman yelled.

  They took off in hot pursuit.

  Marigold was about to run after all three of them when her star started to blink.

  “Not again!” She stood frozen in place, unable to do anything but look at the flashing light from the star.

  Off. On. Off. On. Off. On.

  Marigold closed her eyes, wishing it away. By the time she opened them and looked around, Meatball, Winnie, and Norman were gone.

  She walked unsurely down the path deeper into the forest, scolding herself. What had she been thinking to take her eyes off Winnie? “Hello?” Marigold called in a small voice. She looked left. She looked right. She walked a little farther. “Winnie?” she said a little louder. All the while her star blinked.

  “Oh! Why does this have to happen now?” She could feel herself start to panic. What if I can’t find Winnie? How will I ever make friends with her? What time is it? Her mind was spinning and she could barely think straight.

  “Winnie! Where are you?” Marigold cried out, but there was no one there.

  She leaned against a tree. She had lost her magic wand, and now she had lost the other thing that could keep Bramblycrumbly from certain disaster: Winnie! Awful thoughts marched through her mind, one after the other, of brambles growing like wildfire over Baddie’s shack, Mrs. Moon’s nest, and Bob’s woodpiles—not to mention her own home in the shape of a teapot. “It would all be my fault! I have to find Winnie! I have to find her now!”

  Her hand reached into her pocket where she had shoved Granny’s spell book, desperate for any kind of help it might offer. Once again it opened to the fateful Invis-O-Friend Spell, and that’s when Marigold had an idea! If she repeated the spell—the same one that had gotten her into Winnie’s room in the first place—wouldn’t it take her right back to Winnie, “the most friendless of friends”? Of course—it was so simple! Why hadn’t she thought of this right away?

  Marigold quickly chanted, “Izzable, dizzable, make me invisible to all but one. Send me to the most friendless of friends—unless I’ve never been a friend before.”

  She closed her eyes like she was supposed to.

  But when Marigold opened them, Winnie was not there.

  8

  Lenny

  There were comic books. Thousands of comic books. Stacks upon crooked stacks of them reaching upward to a ceiling. A narrow aisle between stacks zigzagged its way to the far corner of a room where only one light glowed over a little bed littered with banana peels, candy wrappers, and several boxes of cookies. On the bed sat a boy, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping open in surprise. “Awesome,” he whispered. “I always knew this would happen.”

  The boy climbed off his bed and approached Marigold with wonder. He was short and round with dark curly hair and thick glasses. He wore sweatpants and a hoodie with spots down the front. He stood before her and pointed to himself with his thumb. “I’m Lenny.”

  “I’m Marigold Star,” she replied.

  “Where are you from?” he asked. Without giving Marigold a chance to answer, he held up his hands and said, “Wait, don’t tell me—you’ve come from an alien world, from a technologically advanced species, right? Or no—maybe you came from a secluded island in the middle of a vast ocean?”

  Before he thought up another place she could have come from, Marigold quickly answered, “I’m from Bramblycrumbly.”

  “Whoa.” Lenny took several steps back and gazed at Marigold, spellbound.

  Marigold smiled at him and was glad that at least he seemed friendly. Her star had stopped blinking as well, but as far as she could tell, those were the only two good things about her situation. How had she ended up here? Where was she? More important, where were Winnie and her magic wand? She had to make friends with the unpleasant girl to complete the spell and find her magic wand. If she failed to do both, it was going to be goodbye, Bramblycrumbly! “I’m sorry. I’ve landed in the wrong place—this is a huge mistake.”

  He seemed not to hear and instead knelt on one knee, lowered his head, and put his hand over his heart. “I am your lowly servant, ready to do your bidding.”

  Marigold tilted her head. “My what?”

  Lenny looked up. “Your bidding—your bidding, you know, like, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” He waited expectantly, but when Marigold didn’t answer, he said, “No? Okay, scratch that. I’ve got a better idea.” He stood and then bowed deeply. “I am your trusty sidekick, ready to follow you on your heroic journey and stick by your side no matter what while we both change the world and you take all the credit.”

  “What are you talking about?” Marigold was completely flummoxed by this strange boy.

  “I’m your faithful sidekick.” Lenny pointed to himself again and grinned broadly. “All superheroes have one.”

  Marigold shook her head. She was not a hero of any kind—super or otherwise—and she told the boy this.

  Lenny disagreed. “You are a superhero.”

  “Oh no, I’m not,” she said emphatically.

  “Oh yes, you are!” he insisted. “I should know. I’ve read every single one of these comic books about a million times. And they’re all about superheroes”—he pointed to Marigold— “like you.” The boy nodded to himself as if to confirm the idea. “You’ve come to life straight out of my imagination,” he murmured. “I always knew this would happen.” He jumped up and down and clapped his hands, but a moment later he became somber.

  “What?” Marigold asked.

  “It’s just that . . .” Lenny lowered his eyes; he bit his lip. “I always thought you’d have, like, a cool cape . . . or a better costume . . . or . . . hair.”

  “It’s a flower,” Marigold pointed out.

  “Right!” Lenny said excitedly. “Because when you were a baby, you ate a radioactive flower by mistake! Do you have a secret weapon?”

  “I have a magic power,” Marigold said.

  “Great! What is it?” Lenny asked.

  “That’s my problem—I don’t know,” Marigold replied.

  The boy gave a dismissive wave of his hand and went back to the corner of his room. “It’s not a problem—it happens all the time with superheroes. They, like, hardly ever know what their superpower is in the beginning.”

  Marigold barely heard a word the boy said. She had to find Winnie—and her wand! “Lenny, what time is it?” she asked anxiously.

  “Five minutes after nine,” he said eagerly. “Why?”

  Marigold made the calculation. “That only leaves two hours and fifty-five minutes.”

  “Wow! Midnight, right?” Lenny said excitedly. “What happens? Do you turn into something cool? Like a robot or . . . Wait—does your archenemy destroy the world at midnight unless you stop him?”

  “I don’t have an archenemy.” Marigold hurried toward the door. “I just have to go find Winnie—now!”

  Lenny grabbed his sneakers. “Can
I come?”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Marigold turned to leave, but a small girl wearing pajamas stood blocking the doorway.

  Lenny yanked on some socks. “Tell Mom I’m going out.”

  “But you never go out,” the little girl said.

  “Well, I am now.” He furiously laced up his sneakers. “I’m moving out of the known conventional safety of my bedroom to answer a call to adventure to serve Marigold Star on her heroic journey.”

  The girl wrinkled her nose. “Who’s Marigold Star?”

  “Her.” Lenny pointed at Marigold.

  “Who?” the girl said, looking all around the room.

  Lenny plucked a knit cap off a hook on the wall. “Oh, that’s right—you can’t see her because she’s not real.”

  “I am too real.” Marigold scooted around the little girl, whom she assumed was Lenny’s sister.

  “Yeah, but only to me.” Lenny pushed past her as well, but when he reached the front door, he stopped. “Um . . . there’s only one thing.” He bit a fingernail. “I don’t like to go outside.”

  “Why not?” Marigold asked.

  Lenny frowned. “Because there are people. Then again, we probably won’t be running into any of them—we’ll probably be taking your rocket ship, right?”

  Marigold shook her head. “No.”

  Lenny said hopefully, “Or your Marigold Super-Starmobile?”

  “Uh-uh,” Marigold said.

  “Or you’ll bestow your magic flying powers onto me and we’ll both fly?” Lenny asked.

  “I can’t fly,” Marigold admitted.

  “Wait.” Lenny held up one finger. “Let me guess. It’s because you’re afraid, right?”

  “How did you know?” Marigold said, surprised.

  “It’s totally normal.” He pulled the knit cap down over his ears. “You’re just having a temporary lapse of self-confidence.” He rolled his eyes. “It happens to, like, every single superhero there’s ever been. But don’t worry, that’s where I come in.”