Magic Sucks

  I was grouchy, because every time I got hit in the eye with one of those slippery little suckers, I thought about how much easier it would have been to take everything out of my sampo, pre-seeded and ready to eat. But, oh, no, Mom and Dad would have none of that. If I couldn’t use the bag, then they wouldn’t use it either. Dumb, stupid parents.

  I sat on the bench placing myself strategically in front of a plate of kid-sized sugar cookies with rainbow sprinkles. I was determined to eat as many as possible before one of my parents made me stop.

  “Rose,” Dad hollered, “come and give me a hand.”

  “Oh, that must be the cake,” she flustered and hurried over. Now was my chance. I reached out for the largest, softest cookie on the plate.

  “Shouldn’t your wait till your parents come back?” someone said into my ear. It was Poppy. I had forgotten that I was surrounded by adults.

  “Where’s Yofie?” I asked, feeling a sudden need for the presence of someone, anyone else in the non-adult category.

  “Right here,” Poppy answered flying down to the table where I could see her. He was asleep in a baby carrier on her chest. As she landed, he opened his eyes, looked up at me and smiled. There was a communal `awww’ as hundreds of hearts melted faster than the banana berry ice cream. Everyone started talking at once. My shoulders finally became fairy chairs and the party was on. I was pelted with questions.

  “Did you try the sampo yet?”

  “How do you like being invisible?”

  “Your parents seem really nice!”

  “When are you coming to visit again?”

  “Where’s Tefnut?”

  “I…uh…huh…” Where was Tefnut anyway? “May I offer you something to drink?” I said, doing my best to sound like my mother. I poured the Mountain Dew into Mom’s best cut glass salad bowl.

  Dozens of dragonfly fairies dive bombed the soda bowl at once, skimming over the surface and scooping up the soda with mugs that must have come out of their sampos. I had no idea what the point of this was, but there was a lot of cheering, more for some, less for others, so I’m pretty sure that there was a purpose other than mere drinking involved.

  Owning a pair of wings seemed to have a few interesting possibilities beyond merely resting your feet. I could get into this.

  “Careful, Rose.” Dad’s voice came from the the tree house. Uh-oh. Caught playing with our food. Me and what must have been nearly a hundred fairies, all stopped, turned and looked. Dad was lying on his stomach on the floor of the tree house, carefully lowering a large layer cake down to Mom, the kind where the layers get smaller as they get higher. Even from across the yard, it looked impressive. Farthingale was supervising.

  It must have been heavy, that cake, because Mom and Dad carried the platter between them. When they got to the table and put it down, I saw that the top layer had an icing figure on top. A fairy…with fluffy brown hair wearing a long purple t-shirt.

  I woke up instantly trying not to let my surprise show as Pussytoes and her apprentice Runcible sauntered into Miriam’s bedroom. My old friend Pussytoes was a long-bodied cat, yellow of fur and eye. Runcible was a half-grown black with an exquisite white star on his chest.

  The two cats blocked the only exit, leaving me cornered, trapped in my favorite nap-chair. I bristled. An aggressive display was called for to offset this disadvantage.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded. “The family will see you.” I could hear them in the kitchen getting ready for the party. I happened to know that they were too busy to notice a herd of cats, but Pussytoes and Runcible didn’t.

  “You and your precious family.” Runcible countered. “So what if they see us?”

  “Jealous, are we?” I said to the budding young diplocat.

  “What, me, leave Ailuria to live with humans? Never.”

  I found it hard to believe that this youngster had been selected for the diplomatic corps. The new generation of born-and-bred Ailurians liked to think of themselves as tough and hardy. What they were, was naive.

  “Respect, please, Runcible,” Pussytoes said. “Remember who you’re speaking to. Besides which, you’re too young to know about these things.” Pussytoes wasn’t. Her name was a dead giveaway to a youth spent growing up with a human family. Apparently she left under very tragic circumstances. No one ever teases Pussytoes about her name.

  “Tefnut,” Pussytoes turned to me, simpering in a way that was most unbecoming to her age and rank, “You’re our family, our Main Cat, our DFOA. We need you.” Her voice lost its softness. “Also, your grace period is up. We’ve come to take you home.”

  “Not yet, it’s not. I have till the end of the summer. All my plans are in place… I have chosen.”

  “Who? Who did you pick?” Runcible said eagerly, “Everyone’s dying to know.” His tough facade was overwhelmed by an all consuming curiosity.”

  I turned my head away with feigned indifference.

  “There isn’t anyone, is there?” he sniffed.

  “Perhaps,” I said, adroitly changing the subject, “we should continue this conversation outside, where we will be undisturbed by humans.”

  I took my time getting off the chair, squeezed past as if I had all the room in the world and moved in front of them so as to lead rather than follow Pussytoes and Runcible to my cat door and out of the house. Rotten timing, I thought. I was going to miss the party.

  CHAPTER 18

  MONKEY IN THE MIDDLE

  “Hey, it’s me, with wings,” I exclaimed.

  “Do you like it?” Farthingale said. “Shadow and I made it together.”

  “It’s wonderful,” I said, truly impressed. “It looks like it should be in a museum.”

  The fairy was the only actual icing I could see. The entire surface of the cake was covered with real pansies, so many, and so close together, that I could only assume there was actually a cake under there.

  “Make a wish,” Amber said. “Make a wish and blow.”

  “But there are no candles,” I said confused.

  “It’s a backwards cake. Blow first, lights second,” he said. Everyone took up the chant.

  “Make a wish. Make a wish and blow,” their collective voices filled the yard. I glanced over to the neighbors again. Nothing.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I can do this. Backwards is okay.”

  Two fairies, blue wings and brown wings with the usual matching outfits, flew down and lifted the icing fairy off the cake.

  “Blow, blow, blow, blow.” The chant got louder. For such little people, they sure made a lot of noise.

  I closed my eyes and took a breath. Halfway filled with air, I remembered to wish. I was having so much fun, that I forgot to make my usual wish and wished for a pair of lavender wings like the ones on the icing fairy instead. Then I opened my eyes wide with effort and blew.

  Flowers flew everywhere to the music of rhythmic hand clapping. I automatically glanced next door, positive the neighbors would be watching, bug-eyed and open-mouthed. These guys may have small hands, but when that many of them are clapping, you don’t have to be real close to notice.

  Meanwhile, I seem to have set something in motion on the cake. Pansies were swirling around like feathers in a dust devil. Then they began to blow away in every direction except down, revealing an empty plate. There was nothing, no cake, not even a toothpick tower to hold up the flowers. The only thing left of my unbirthday cake, was a shiny silver tray and three fairies, one of whom was made of icing and had lavender wings.

  Someone switched off the backyard lights. I looked up and watched the flowers melt away like snowflakes, leaving behind a core of something brighter. Pansy-sized globes of light bobbed gently in the air like the shooting star-sparkles that finish off fireworks.

  “Ahhh.” We all let out a long sigh of pleasure. The little lights didn’t fade away. They hung there penetrating the night with a hundred points of light. I felt like the stars had come down for a visit.

  “What did
you wish for?” somebody called out.

  “I can’t say,” I said in the general direction of the voice. “It won’t come true.”

  “It’s got a much better chance of coming true if you tell us than if you don’t” Farthingale said from her seat on my shoulder.

  “Well, if you must know,” I said, “I wished for wings like those.” I pointed at the icing fairy in front of me.

  “Hey, no problem there.” The brown-winged fairy said.

  “I think we just may be able to accommodate you on that one,” the blue fairy added, grinning from ear to ear. They had lowered the icing fairy to the table and were standing on either side of her with their elbows on her shoulders.

  “Be careful of my fairy,” I said noticing their casual treatment. “She’s too pretty to mess up.”

  “Don’t worry, Miriam,” Blue said, rapping her knuckles on the head. “She’s solid.”

  “China,” Brown said. “Solid porcelain china.”

  “Ooo,” I said with pleasure. “Does that mean that I get to keep her?” Blue and Brown stepped back to let me pick up the little figure. “Look, Mom. Look how perfect she is,” I said holding the tiny statue out for inspection. But Mom didn’t hear me. She was staring at the china doll in my hand with a confused look on her face.

  “Miriam,” she said slowly. “You never said anything about wings.”

  Uh-oh. Apparently Mom had just made the transition from wishes to china dolls.

  “Uh, yeah. You were both so excited yesterday that I kind of forgot.”

  “You have wings?” Dad asked, also not smiling, as he scrutinized my back for evidence.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure. Do I?” I said, turning to Farthingale for help.

  “Not yet,” Farthingale answered matter of factly, “but she will eventually. We added the wing buds yesterday.”

  “Ha ha!” Mom’s laugh came out high and squeaky, like she was trying real hard to be polite. “I’m afraid Miriam didn’t mention that little detail to us. She hasn’t said much about her visit. Our little Miriam never tells us anything.”

  I? Never tell them anything? I took a big gulp of my soda to hide my anger. Bad move. In the mouth and out the nose. I hate it when it does that.

  I’m coughing. Mom and Dad are both pounding me on the back. Everybody else is looking. Never tells them anything! Who can get a word in edgewise?

  My parents finally stopped abusing my poor back. They smiled their best company smiles and nodded politely.

  “We’re so pleased about all the wonderful things you are doing for Miriam,” Mom said stiffly. “We’re just a little surprised. We didn’t realize just how much our lives would be changed.”

  “I think,” Dad said, and his face was dark, “I think that it would have been appropriate to check with us before you made any permanent alterations to our daughter.”

  I sat there red faced, feeling like a home decorating project gone wrong. There was a lot of nervous tittering from the assembled masses. Polite remarks were exchanged. Fairies started to drift back towards the tree house. Well, that was fun, I thought. Weird, but fun.

  Years of fallen evergreen needles under the Norway spruce that grew next to the front gate had made a deep soft bed. The ends of the Spruce’s droopy branches sat right on the ground all around the tree. I could see out. Nobody could see in. It was my favorite outdoor napping spot and that’s where we were headed.

  “Oh, by the way,” Runcible said from behind, “Pisu sends his regards.”

  Just the mention of That Name was enough to make every hair on my body stand on edge. Before I could blink, I was puffed up like a giant hairball.

  “What’s bristling you, Tefnut,” Runcible asked. “I thought you and Pisu were like litter-mates?”

  “We were,” I answered, trying to think fast while the rest of me focused on getting my fur to hurry up and get back where it belonged. “Why, Pisu was here just last year for a visit.”

  “So, what happened? Did you two get into a fight?”

  “As a matter of fact, we did have a small disagreement,” I conceded, stretching the truth whisker thin. “I assume that this is Pisu’s way of apologizing.” Not likely that Pisu would be letting me off the hook, but... you never know.

  “Right,” Runcible drawled inserting all his youthful skepticism of the adult world into that one short word. More worrisomely, Pussytoes remained silent. “So, what did you fight about,” Runcible demanded. “Tell us.”

  “Nothing important and it was all over a long time ago.”

  “Doesn’t look over to me.”

  “Well, it is,” Pussytoes interjected. “If Tefnut says it’s over, it’s over.” Pussytoes was nobody’s fool. She would expect payback for this, big time.

  She settled down under the spruce in the paws-tucked-under position that announced relaxed but alert. The only thing that topped that was an aggressive posture. Completely inappropriate under the circumstance. The best I could do was affirm her choice by also assuming a relaxed/alert stance. Point for Pussytoes.

  She came back, late that night…alone.

  Before Pussytoes said anything, she padded over politely and began grooming the hard to reach spot in my ears.

  “Look, Tefnut,” she finally began, rubbing her cheek against me affectionately, leaving the lingering perfume of her scent. “I can accept that you’re not returning. It’s clear that there’s something you don’t want to tell us. Pisu is too pleased with himself. Very pleased...and not talking.

  “I don’t care about that. Pisu is an ass. I always wondered why you were such good friends. But I do care about who is coming after you. There’s very little time, and a great deal that needs to be done. We don’t even know what species the next DFOA will be.”

  I sighed. She was right.

  “Who else will need to know,” I asked.

  “No one,” Pussytoes answered. “If I know who’s coming, I can influence the preparations without letting anyone realize that I have inside information…and I’m probably a lot better than Pisu at keeping a secret.

  “Very well,” I said, and told Pussytoes whom I had chosen.

  CHAPTER 19

  TEFNUT’S REQUEST

  It has now been exactly two weeks since my non-kidnapping. Thirteen lucky days since the disastrous tea party. I truly believe that parents exist only to humiliate their children. The Six came to visit me the next day. They totally did not get why my parents were so pissed off and I haven’t seen them since. I haven’t looked at the sampo or Poppy’s coat either. They’re at the bottom of my sweater drawer, and they can stay there for all I care.

  Mom and Dad tried to talk to me a couple of times, but I figured that as long as I kept my promise about the sampo, I didn’t owe them anything.

  Otherwise, life was pretty normal. Dad was fooling around in the kitchen and Mom was wandering around the house, looking harried and muttering about deadlines. Tefnut was curled up on the giant teddy bear beanbag chair in my room and I was sitting on the floor next to her doing math homework – fractions – ugh. It was easy to believe that nothing had ever happened.

  Naturally, with her usual instinct for perfect timing, this was when Tefnut decided to let me know that she could do a lot more than purr.

  “You know, Miriam,” Tefnut began, apparently not noticing my expression of complete and utter shock. Visits by little bug people with a mass fairy godmother complex… maybe, but talking cats… no, I was not ready for this. Not where I live.

  “I’m really happy here,” Tefnut explained. “I like being part of your family. I like the way your parents made me feel welcome when I was just beginning to find my way around the human world. And I love my house,” she nattered on. “It’s always warm and there are lots of windows.”

  I waited with superficial politeness while Tefnut took the long way around to say what was on her mind. Meanwhile, my brain was burning with a single question.

  “Unfortunately,” my furry friend continue
d, “I’m supposed to go home this year to settle a few loose ends. It’s not that I feel guilty or anything. I’m a cat. But a promise is a promise.”

  Home, I thought? She has another home? Tefnut must have seen my confusion. She seemed to be trying to clarify the situation. She did not succeed.

  “You see,” Tefnut elaborated, “I’m Comfortable here and Comfort, as you know is one of those basic non-negotiable necessities for cats. It’s right up there with Food and Entertainment.”

  “Entertainment?”

  “That’s right, Entertainment. It has everything to do with being at the top of the food chain. It is the very essence of what we are.”

  My brain clouded over. “Why are we talking about the food chain?”

  “Never mind,” she said, picking up where she left off. “Basically, I’m not really interested in all the hullabaloo of a big visit, but you would love it. It’s a great place. Very Entertaining. You should go.” I had no idea what Tefnut was talking about. All I knew was that she was talking.

  “Tefnut.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I didn’t know you were a fairy.”

  “I am not a fairy,” she answered, “and I am not, not a fairy. All cats are Halfandhalfs. Part of us is magic, and part isn’t. It’s better than being all fairy because we can live wherever we want and we don’t have to stay hidden when we’re in the human world.

  “Anyway,” Tefnut continued, “I’ve been thinking, now that you’re older, and have your fairy gifts, how about if you go this summer instead of me? You could be my official representative and I could stay here.” She extended one front paw and stretched, resettling herself on the beanbag chair where she preferred to spend most of her day.

  My eyes narrowed. I still didn’t know what she was talking about, but I smelled a set-up. “Go where, Tefnut?”

  “To Ailuria, of course. That’s where I used to live. In Ailuria. It is a small but extremely important independent state in Fairyland. Populated and governed completely by cats, naturally. Real fairies couldn’t be depended on to be in charge of anything so critical.”