Unconscious, the witch fell from Jennifer's tongue and lay amid the shards of glass. Yet her image and the image of the false Jennifer remained, surrounding them in all the other mirrors that lined the walls of the shop.
"Jennifer," the images crooned, as if they had taken on a life of their own. "Jennifer, it's not too late. Trade the toad. He's only a toad."
But Jennifer had had enough of mirrors. Nearly blind with rage, she lashed out again and again, her powerful toad's tongue slamming the smooth reflective surfaces, shattering one after another, until suddenly she found herself standing not in a modern beauty parlor but inside a cottage that looked as if it had been lifted from a fairy tale.
"It's my home!" cried Bufo in astonishment. "Jennifer, this is the cottage where I was born!"
Jennifer didn't answer; her tongue was sore and bleeding, and speech was more trouble than it was worth.
Bufo seemed to understand. "Let's get out of here," he said, glancing at the unconscious form of the witch.
She nodded, though getting out wasn't going to be easy, since the cottage's only door was less than half her width. She hopped toward it, nudged it with her nose.
Not a chance of getting through.
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Turning, she went to the back of the cottage, took a few small, exploratory hops forward, then hurtled her great body at the door.
Struck by two thousand pounds of toad, the door gave way, along with the wall, and Jennifer found herself outside, blinking in the sunlight that flooded the small forest clearing where she had landed.
What happened to the street? she wondered. Before she could worry about that, a figure stepped from among the trees. It was Mr. Elives.
"Congratulations," said the old man. "And apologies. When this started, I didn't know what I was getting you into. But you have handled yourself well."
Jennifer considered giving him the same treatment she had given the witch. A good tongue-lashing may be just what he needs, she thought. She tried to say it, but her tongue was too sore, and she couldn't get the words out.
"I will take care of the witch," he said.
"Now you'll take care of her," said Bufo. "Excuse me, boss, but where were you when we needed you?"
"There are some thresholds I cannot cross," said Mr. Elives, his voice solemn rather than cranky. "And this cottage could not be entered without an invitation, which I surely would never have received. The door is gone, however, knocked down from within, and now I may enter. And I had best
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do so soon, for there is no knowing how long the woman may sleep. I have work to do if you are to be safe. Follow the path--it will lead you home, where your friends are waiting."
"Home?" cried Jennifer, the word exploding out of her in spite of her injured tongue. "How can I go home like this?"
From inside the cottage came a slight moan.
"Quickly!" said the old man. "Go. Now!"
"But--"
"Now!"
"Jennifer," said Bufo nervously. "We'd better go."
The path led through a forest that seemed older and more gnarled than any Jennifer had ever seen. She moved slowly, the woods too thick for her to take the kind of hops and leaps her great body was capable of.
Thick roots rumpled the soil, and after a while Bufo scrambled onto her back, since it was easier for him to ride than to try to keep up with even her small hops in that terrain.
"I have a question," said Jennifer after a while.
"Shoot," replied Bufo.
"The words you said when we were in the shop--'most mirrors are mere errors.' How did you know them? They were in the letter Mr. Elives sent me.
"You don't really want to know that," said Bufo with a little laugh.
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"Yes, I do," replied Jennifer, remembering that Bufo had to tell the truth when asked a direct question. "How did you know them?"
Bufo cleared his throat. Using the president's voice, he said, "Well, when you went off to the museum with Brandon this morning, there I was alone in the room with that letter."
"So you read it, even though he didn't want you to," said Jennifer, not really surprised.
"Well, ahhh, I guess you could say ..."
Before Bufo could finish blathering, Jennifer felt the world go strange around her, and found herself facing a pair of mountain ash trees that looked familiar. On the other side were Sharra and Ellen, Skippy and Brandon, and old Miss Applegate, sitting on the grass beside the bikes, talking quietly among themselves. They looked sad and frightened. Brandon was crying.
Jennifer stopped before she reached the trees. A wave of despair washed over her. "I can't go out there," she said. "I can't go back into our world like this."
"I don't think you should stay here," said Bufo. "Wherever 'here' is."
At the sound of their voices the others looked up. Their reactions to the sight of Jennifer's enormous bulk varied from strangled gasps to near screams. But to her astonishment, rather than running away, they ran to her.
"Jennifer?" cried Ellen. "Jennifer, is that you?"
"How did you do that?" asked Brandon, happy
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to see his sister in whatever form she chose for her return.
"Mom and Dad are not going to like this," contributed Skippy.
Sharra simply stood blinking for a moment. Then, speaking so rapidly that all the words ran into one another, she stepped back and said, "I'm sorry for every rotten thing I ever did to you, Jennifer, so please, please don't eat me!"
She was so desperate, and so sincere, that Jennifer nearly laughed in spite of her situation.
Only Miss Applegate didn't speak. She simply walked up to Jennifer, which put them face to face.
Leaning forward, she planted a kiss on Jennifer's yard-wide lips.
The explosion was thunderous.
When the smoke cleared, Jennifer had been returned to her human form and Miss Applegate had been turned into a toad.
Jennifer started to speak, to cry out, "Don't you understand? You're going to be a toad forever."
But before she could say a word Bufo hopped forward. He sat in front of Miss Applegate and stared in astonishment. Then he croaked a single word, which came out as a statement, a question, and a sigh of wonder: "Esmerelda?"
Miss Applegate hopped forward to meet him. "It's been nearly five centuries since that witch stole the Jewel of Perfect Happiness from my forehead and turned me into a human, Bufo. Five hundred
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years of waiting to find you, and all you can say is 'Esmerelda?'"
Bufo smiled. "Give me a kiss," he croaked, sounding only like himself.
And Esmerelda did.
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Epilogue
The wind was blowing through the open window.
Jennifer Murdley put the finishing touches on her essay, then placed the geode her father had given her on top of the loose pages to hold them in place.
She could have closed the window, but she was expecting company.
She knew they were coming because she had gotten a call earlier that evening. Not on the regular phone, but on Brandon's little red telephone, which he had generously given to her as a "backward" present on the day of his fourth birthday.
"Jennifer," the voice on the other end of the line had said, "this is Elives. Bufo and Esmerelda want to know if you're going to be in this evening; they'd like to come over to say good-bye."
Jennifer had told Mr. Elives that she would make it a point to be in. He, in return, had told her to set her alarm for midnight.
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At 12:15 a high-pitched voice outside her window called, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, that I might climb the golden stair."
This was followed by another voice that said, "Bufo, cut that out. You don't have to be a clown all the time!"
Smiling, Jennifer went to her window and lowered a basket on a rope. After Bufo and Esmerelda climbed in, she hauled the basket back up to her window.
&nb
sp; "How have you been, dear?" asked Esmerelda in a voice that sounded like every grandmother in the world combined.
"Pretty well," said Jennifer. "My tongue has healed up, I got my essay finished, Sharra has been leaving me alone, and Skippy seems a little scared of me. So all in all, I guess things are pretty good."
"You could try aiming a bit higher," said Bufo, doing his presidential imitation again.
"Shush!" said Esmerelda.
Despite the fact that Miss Applegate had explained that there had never been an Applegate family, that she had simply used the name, and moved from place to place whenever people got too suspicious because she had been living in one town for too long, Jennifer still had a hard time thinking of the old woman as a toad.
"But I was always a toad inside," Miss Apple-gate had told her the first three times they had had the conversation. "And a lonely one, too, since I thought I was going to live forever without ever seeing Bufo again."
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"What a horrible fate!" exclaimed Bufo, zapping out his tongue and swallowing a bug.
And now the two of them were going to leave on their "second honeymoon," though where exactly they were going seemed to be a matter that was known only to Mr. Elives and the two toads.
"We can't talk about it," said Bufo, using his Bogart imitation. "Special assignment."
"Speaking of special assignments," said Esmerelda, "we have one for you, if you're willing to accept it."
"What is it?" asked Jennifer, knowing even as she did so that she was probably letting curiosity overcome common sense.
"Lower the basket again," said Esmerelda.
Looking at the toads nervously, Jennifer did as they asked. When she felt a tug on the slender rope, she pulled the basket back to her window.
Inside were two rats.
Jennifer jumped back with a startled squeak.
"See, Jerome!" said one of them. "I told you she wouldn't like us."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Jerome. "She's just startled."
Suddenly Jennifer remembered the final moments in the cottage. "You came out of the witch's mouth, didn't you?" she asked in astonishment.
"Got it in one, kid," replied Bufo, without giving the rats a chance to answer. "I'd like you to meet the two newest Immortal Vermin, Jerome and Roxanne. Elives wants to know if they can stay with you until he decides what to do with them. After all, the terrarium is empty."
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[blank page]
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"We don't eat much," said Roxanne sincerely.
"And I know a lot of jokes," said Jerome.
"Quiet," said Roxanne, batting him on the head with her paw. "If she hears any of your jokes, she'll never let us stay here."
"Look, if they get to be too much trouble, you can just call Elives and ask him to take them back," said Bufo.
"And how am I supposed to do that?" asked Jennifer.
"Come here," said Esmerelda quietly, motioning to Jennifer to bend closer.
When Jennifer did as she asked, the ancient toad woman whispered a number in her ear.
"Direct connection," she said, when she was sure that Jennifer had it. "I don't think more than five kids in the world can get in touch with the old man whenever they want. But he told me you had earned the privilege."
When the toads were gone and the rats finally settled in to their new home, Jennifer sat and stared at the red phone for a long time.
Suddenly it began to ring. Jennifer hesitated, then lifted the receiver.
"Jennifer?" asked a familiar voice.
"Yes, Mr. Elives, this is Jennifer."
"I just wanted to let you know that Bufo and Esmerelda are safely on their way."
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"Will I ever see them again?" she asked, a sudden stab of longing shooting through her.
"I guarantee it. For now, though, you should have your hands full with Jerome and Roxanne. I think you'll like them. They just need a good place to stay while they get used to the world."
"They're welcome here," said Jennifer sincerely.
"I thought they would be," said Mr. Elives. He paused, then said, "You did well, Jennifer. I am pleased with you."
Coming from the old man, the words made Jennifer feel as though she had just been told she was the most wonderful person in the world. Or the most beautiful.
"Thank you," she whispered.
After she hung up, she sat in the dark, her hands resting on the phone. From the other side of the room, she could hear Jerome and Roxanne, squabbling good-naturedly about how they were going to arrange their living quarters.
She remembered Mr. Elives' last words, just before she put down the receiver: "If this works out, I expect that I'll have many assignments for you in the future."
She smiled into the darkness.
It was going to be an interesting life.
Maybe even a beautiful one.
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A Note from the Author
One reason I keep writing stories about Mr. Elives' Magic Shop is that it was the kind of place I had longed to find when I was a kid myself.
The first time I found the shop was when I was writing a book called The Monster's Ring. Not long after that book was published, I sat down and made a list of things you might buy in such a place; things that could start an adventure.
My first thought was that I would write a book of short stories called Tales from the Magic Shop. Each story would have been about a different character who stumbled into Mr. Elives' Shop. But the truth is, I have a hard time with short stories, and the things I write tend to get longer and longer, until eventually they turn into books.
The first time I tried to write the story of Jennifer Murdley I finished about forty pages, ending with a scene in which the kids looked out Jennifer's window and saw a toad the size of a Volkswagen. Then I invented an outline for the rest of the story--a complicated plot
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that involved Mr. Elives being kidnapped, a planet full of toads, and a lizard who made too many puns. I sent the finished chapters and the outline to several editors, who almost unanimously said something along the lines of, "Love the toad, hate the outline."
So I put the story away for a while (often the smartest thing to do with an idea that is not quite working). What happened next is kind of complicated, but the short version is that my friend Jane Yolen, a famous children's book writer and editor, asked me to do some books for a new line she was starting. I showed her what I had written on Jennifer's story, and her reaction was the same as the other editors who had seen it, with this difference: She figured I could fix the end, and she gave me a contract to write the book.
Now I had to come up with a new ending. The only problem was, I had no idea what it was going to be.
I went right back to the beginning of the book. From the start, I had known that Jennifer wanted to be special. But it wasn't until this time around--about eight years after I had first had the idea for the book--that I realized she wanted to be beautiful. Suddenly the book began to make sense to me.
I was interested in writing about this topic of beauty because it is so confusing to me. We all know that beauty is only skin deep, you should never judge a book by its cover, etc., etc. Now I will make an embarrassing confession: Even though I know those things, I spend a ridiculous amount of time in front of my mirror, studying my looks, trying to figure out if they are good enough.
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I know this is foolish, but that doesn't stop me. And I am not alone; the culture we live in is obsessed with beauty over brains, skin over soul, heartthrobs over great hearts.
I don't have any answers for how we can get past that nonsense, but I thought the issue was at least worth looking at.
The hardest part of writing Jennifer's story was finding an ending. In an old-fashioned fairy tale, she would have gotten her wish and become beautiful at the end. Yetch! An ending like that would have betrayed the whole spirit of the book. It would have betrayed Jennifer. So in the end, she doe
sn't get her wish. But she does get something else that is, perhaps, just as good.
Maybe even better.
That's the way it goes in this world, at least some of the time.
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About the Author and Illustrator
Bruce Coville lives in Syracuse, New York, where he shares a big old house with a fat, cranky cat named Spike. He (Bruce, not Spike) grew up around the corner from his grandparents' dairy farm, three miles outside a small town named Phoenix. Bruce loved to read when he was a kid, and says he would be smarter today if he had done more of that and watched less TV. Before becoming a full-time writer, he was a teacher, a toy-maker, a magazine editor, and a gravedigger.
According to Bruce, it has taken many years for him to accept the fact that he is not, and never will be, the world's most handsome children's book author. However, he takes comfort in the fact that he has written many books of which he is very proud--including My Teacher Is an Alien; Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher; and Goblins in the Castle.
Gary A. Lippincott graduated from the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore. He illustrates primarily fantasy and historical books. In addition to his interest in art, he enjoys scuba diving and magic, and he composes piano music. Mr. Lippincott lives in Spencer, Massachusetts, with his wife and two children, on a horse farm his wife operates.
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Bruce Coville, Jennifer Murdley's Toad (Magic Shop Books)
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