“I am going to cure myself with magic,” she told Dad and me.
“I think that’s a bad idea,” Dad said, looking alarmed. But Mom pointed the Computawand at herself and pressed a code—bleep-bleep-bloop. “Betteridoo!”
We all waited. But Mom’s spots didn’t go away and her nose was still runny. Her wings drooped even farther.
“Do you feel better?” Dad asked.
“No,” Mom said. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m going to look at the Fairy Doctor App.”
She started scrolling down her screen, searching for a spell. Just then, Granny came in.
“Of course, you have fairy flu,” she said as soon as she saw Mom. “I’m afraid there is no spell for fairy flu. If you try to cure it with magic, you’ll make it worse. You must drink hot lemon water. And you definitely must not try any more magic.”
“You probably need a good rest too, like the doctor said,” Dad said.
“I don’t want a good rest,” said Mom. “I want to get better.” She looked very, very annoyed. “Toffee apple,” she said, and went back to bed.
—
After lunch I went to see how Mom was feeling. She was sitting up in bed all alone in her nightgown, drinking hot lemon water and reading her Spell Book.
Mom hardly ever gets her Spell Book out. It’s very old and the writing is very tiny and the pages are very thin. It was written hundreds of years ago by the Old, Old Fairies. Nowadays most fairies have Computawands to tell them their spells instead. And they use Spell Apps too sometimes. But even so, every fairy has a Spell Book. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to have one.
“Why are you reading your Spell Book?” I asked. “Granny said you mustn’t do any magic.”
But Mom took no notice. “Here we are,” she said. “I knew I’d find something! A spell to make you feel cooler. That’s exactly what I need.” She got out of bed, stamped her feet three times, clapped her hands, wiggled her behind and said, “Marshmallow,”…and POOF! She was a fairy.
Then she pointed her Computawand at herself, pressed a code—bleep-bleep-bloop—and said, “Cooleridoo!”
At once, snow started falling on her head.
“Oops,” Mom said. “I don’t know how that happened. Stoperidoo!”
She pointed the Computawand at herself, but the snow didn’t stop.
“Mom!” I said. “You’ll freeze! And your head will turn into a snowball! Should I call Aunty Jo? Maybe she can help you.”
“No!” Mom said, looking angry. “I don’t need Aunty Jo. I can do this myself.”
Mom then continued flipping through the book. “Let me try something else,” she said. “Here we are—a spell for strength. Strongeridoo!”
At once, Mom’s arms changed. They got big and muscly, like a champion weight lifter’s.
“Oops,” Mom said. “I don’t know how that happened. I wonder how strong I am.”
She reached over and took hold of me with one hand, then lifted me up over her head.
“Help!” I cried.
“I’m really super strong,” Mom said. “Isn’t that cool?”
I felt very strange, balanced on Mom’s hand, looking down at her head.
“Mom,” I gasped. “I think you should stop doing magic.”
“But I’m sure I can cure myself,” Mom said, putting me down again. “I just need to find the right spell. Look, here’s a cure for spots. Spotseridoo!” She pressed a code on her Computawand—bleep-bleep-bloop—and all her spots disappeared.
“There!” Mom said. “You see? It worked. I knew it would.”
A moment later, the spots came back, but now they were bright green. They got bigger and bigger, until her whole face was green.
“Oh no,” Mom said. “It didn’t work after all.”
Now Mom had muscly arms, a green face and snow falling on her head. I didn’t think she looked at all better. I sat down on the bed and said, “Mom, why don’t you just rest, like the doctor said?”
But Mom wasn’t listening. “Here we are.” She turned to another page in the Spell Book. “A spell for feeling bouncy. That will make me stop feeling ill.” Mom pointed the Computawand at herself, pressed a code—bleep-bleep-bloop—and said, “Bounceridoo!”
Suddenly the bed gave a little bounce. I looked at Mom, and Mom looked at me. The bed bounced again.
“Oops,” Mom said. “That’s not what I meant by bouncy.”
The bed gave a bigger bounce and I clung to Mom. Then it gave lots of bounces—bouncy-bouncy-bouncy. It was going higher and higher, up to the ceiling and down again. I felt as if we were on a trampoline.
“Mom!” I cried. “I think I’m going to fall off!”
“Hold on tight, Ella!” Mom said. “I’ll try to stop it. Stoperidoo! Stop, you silly bed!”
But the bed was still bouncing. All of a sudden, it gave a huge bounce and flew toward the window. The window was getting bigger and bigger.
“What’s happening?” I said.
“It must be part of the spell,” Mom said. “Oh no. Hold on….”
We sailed through the window, then down to the ground…and bounce. We were outside, flying up into the air. Then down again, and bounce.
The duvet was flapping. I could feel wind in my hair. I shouted “Wheeee!” as we shot up again. Then I started laughing, because bouncing was fun.
“What are we going to do?” Mom said. “We can’t just keep bouncing all day!”
The bed landed on someone’s lawn, and then…bounce. Up we shot, into the air.
“Stoperidoo!” Mom shouted, but the bed didn’t stop bouncing. We bounced ten more times. Then the bed seemed to get tired. It stretched and made a noise that sounded like a yawn. Then it landed on top of a house and stopped.
Mom and I looked at each other. We were stuck on the roof of a house. Neither of us had jackets, and Mom was even in her nightgown. How were we going to get home?
“I’m really cold,” Mom said. “I must get rid of this snow.” She pointed the Computawand at herself and cried, “Heateridoo!”
But the snow didn’t stop falling on her head. Nothing had happened.
“Oh no,” Mom said. “I really wanted some heat.”
Suddenly I heard a roar, and I screamed. A little red dragon was flying toward us. It had a pointed nose and sharp claws. It sat on Mom’s shoulder and breathed out fire with a roary sound.
“Mom!” I said. “There’s a dragon on your shoulder!”
“Not that kind of heat! Shoo!” she said to the dragon, but it wouldn’t go.
“Can we keep him?” I begged. “Can we call him Roary? I think Dad would love him. You know I’ve always wanted a pet.”
“Dad would not love him!” Mom said. “We need to get rid of this dragon and get home!”
As I looked at the dragon, I spotted a man nearby. He was on the roof of the house next door, fixing the tiles.
“Look, Mom!” I said. “There’s a man. He can help us.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Mom said. “Excuse me!” she called, waving her arms. “Coo-eee!”
The man turned around. When he saw Mom, he nearly fell off the roof in shock.
“Help!” he shouted. “It’s a monster! It’s a monster with a green face and muscly arms and a dragon on its shoulder!”
“I’m not a monster!” Mom said, and the dragon roared. The man looked even more scared.
“It can talk!” he said. “Help! Save me from the monster!”
“I’m not a monster!” Mom said. She looked a little upset.
“Please don’t eat me,” begged the man.
“I’m not going to eat you!” Mom said. “Why would I eat you?”
“Because you’re a monster!” said the man.
The man looked so scared of Mom that I couldn’t help giggling.
Just then I heard a voice behind me. “And what exactly are you doing?”
I turned around to find another fairy. It was Granny! Fairy Granny! She was flying through the air
with her shimmery wings and gold crown with blue stones, frowning. She sat down on the bed, fluttering her wings.
“A giant butterfly!” said the man on the other roof. “Help! It’s a giant man-eating butterfly!”
“Stilleridoo!” Granny said, and the man went very still and quiet.
Granny looked hard at Mom.
“Your husband called me and said that you and Ella were missing. He was very worried, and now I am too. What on earth are you doing out here? Why do you have a green face, muscly arms, snow falling on you and a dragon on your shoulder?”
Mom looked ashamed. “I thought I might find a magic cure for fairy flu,” she said.
“There isn’t a magic cure for fairy flu,” Granny said. “I’ve already told you that. You just have to wait and be patient.”
“I don’t like waiting and being patient,” Mom said.
“I know,” Granny said. “Nobody does. But that’s life. Now, I will clear up all your silly magic mistakes for you. And I will use Fairy Dust on all the people who saw your bouncing bed so they will think it was a dream. Including this poor man.” She pointed to the man on the roof.
“Thank you,” Mom said.
“And in return, you must promise me you will drink hot lemon water and rest,” Granny said. “Then you will get better.”
“I promise,” Mom said. “Thank you.” Then she looked at her muscly weight-lifter arms. “Do you think I should keep these? They’re so strong.”
“No,” Granny said. “You wouldn’t fit into any of your clothes.” She waved her wand and said, “Fixeridoo!”
A moment later, everything was right again. We were back in our house, on the bed. Mom just had ordinary red spots like before and normal arms and no snow falling on her. And she was asleep.
I looked all around, but Roary the dragon was gone too.
“Bye-bye, Roary,” I said sadly. Then I put the Spell Book away and crept out of the room.
—
A week later, Mom was better. Her spots were all gone. She got out of bed and had breakfast and put on her office suit to go to work.
When we went outside, Zoe’s mom was in the garden. She was planting some bulbs.
“I am growing some daffodils,” she told us. “They will be very pretty. But it will take a long time. We must be patient.” Then she sighed. “I don’t like being patient.”
“Me neither,” Mom said.
“Waiting is so boring,” Zoe’s mom said.
“Yes,” Mom said. “It is. But sometimes waiting is better than rushing. Isn’t it, Ella?”
I thought about Mom rushing to get better. I thought about her green spots, the snow and the bouncing bed and the man who thought she was a monster.
Then I smiled at her and I said, “Yes, Mom. Sometimes waiting is better than rushing.”
ne morning, Mom came to my room and gave me a pair of sneakers.
“What are those for?” I asked.
“For field day at school,” she said. “You should practice your jumps before we go!”
I went out to the backyard and ran along the grass. I stepped, stepped, then jumped a couple times. But my shoelaces were too long, and during one of my tries I tripped over them and fell to the grass with a thud, bumping my nose. I’m not very good at sports, but Miss Allen says sports are supposed to be fun, so I knew I should try again.
But then my Not-Best Friend, Zoe, ran by in her new sneakers, pointing and laughing at me with her horrible laugh before running into her house.
I didn’t say anything, because Mom says I should ignore people who don’t have anything nice to say, but my face felt hot and I couldn’t help but feel sad. I brushed the mud off my knees and tried to tie up my laces, but they got tangled in a knot. I hate shoelaces.
“Ready for field day?” I heard someone say. I looked up and saw Zoe’s mom going into her house with some shopping bags. “Oh my, it looks like you’re having some problems over there!”
As Zoe’s mom went inside her house, my mom came out and saw me trying to tie my laces.
“Come on, Ella!” she said. “It’s time to go. Let’s fix you up.”
She looked around to make sure no one could see. Then she stamped her feet three times, clapped her hands, wiggled her bottom and said, “Marshmallow,”…and POOF! She was a fairy.
She pointed at my shoes with her Computawand. “Laceridoo!”
Suddenly my laces started moving on their own. But they didn’t knot themselves neatly. They flew into the air and went to hang on the apple tree. Then all of my dad’s shoelaces came flying out the window and went to hang on the tree too. They looked like spaghetti. I started giggling.
“Oops,” said Mom, and pressed her Computawand. “I don’t know how that happened.”
Then I spotted Aunty Jo walking up the driveway. She was going to come and watch me at my field day too. Aunty Jo is very good at magic. Her house is full of gold medals from the Fairy Awards. She saw the laces waving in the tree and shook her head.
“What a mess,” she said. “Let me fix this for you.” She stamped her feet three times, clapped her hands, wiggled her behind and said, “Strawberry shortcake,”…and POOF! She was a fairy, just like Mom, with silver wings and a crown. Aunty Jo Fairy pointed her Computawand at the tree and said, “Fixeridoo!” At once my laces zoomed back into my shoes and tied a neat knot. All Dad’s laces sailed back in through the window.
“Thank you, Aunty Jo Fairy,” I said.
“Well done, Jo,” said Mom, although she didn’t look very pleased.
“My pleasure,” said Aunty Jo Fairy. “And now, Ella, what about a little Twinkletoes spell to make you run nice and fast today?”
I liked the idea of a Twinkletoes spell.
“Yes, please!” I said.
But Mom stepped forward before Aunty Jo Fairy could point her wand. “No!” she said. “That’s cheating! We do not cheat in this family. Do we, Ella?”
I knew Mom was right. Cheating was wrong. But I really, really wanted a Twinkletoes spell to help me. Maybe then I could even win a race.
“It’s just one tiny spell,” Aunty Jo Fairy said to Mom. “Don’t you want Ella to win all the races?”
“Not by cheating,” Mom said firmly.
“Look!” I said. “Zoe’s coming back. She’ll see you!”
Mom and Aunty Jo Fairy stepped behind a bush to hide. As Zoe reached our yard, she stopped. She squinted at the bush.
“What was that?” she said. “Is someone hiding?”
“No!” I said at once. “It’s nothing. Maybe a squirrel.”
“Oh.” Zoe looked at the bush again, then turned away. “Well, I’ll see you at field day, Ella. Oh no, I won’t see you. Because I’ll be at the front of every race and you’ll be at the back. You’re going to lose every single one.” She stuck out her tongue and ran off.
I was too upset to reply.
As Aunty Jo Fairy came out from behind the bush, she looked furious. “What a horrible girl!” she said. “Ella, if only I could give you the Twinkletoes spell. You would twinkle and whizz along like a rocket!”
“Mom, please can I twinkle and whizz?” I said. “Just in one race?”
“No,” Mom said, looking sternly at Aunty Jo Fairy. “You must promise me you will not put any spells on Ella to help her win.”
“All right,” said Aunty Jo Fairy, crossing her arms.
“Not even a tiny one,” said Mom.
“I promise!” said Aunty Jo Fairy. “Not even a tiny one.”
But when Mom wasn’t looking, Aunty Jo Fairy winked at me.
—
Field day was in the grassy area behind my school.
“Welcome to field day!” said Miss Allen. “Now, let’s begin!”
All the parents were standing on the sidelines, watching the races. The first race was running, and my whole class was lined up. I reached down to touch my feet, but they didn’t feel twinkly or whizzy—they just felt normal. Aunty Jo hadn’t put a spell on me after
all. She must have listened to Mom. I felt a bit disappointed.
“On your marks, get set…go!” shouted Miss Allen, and we all began to run. I was running as fast as I could, and I looked around to see where the others were.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. They were all running slowly. Really, really slowly. Even Zoe.
“Come on, Zoe!” her mom was shouting. “Faster!”
“I’m trying!” yelled Zoe. “My legs won’t move!”
Zoe and all the other children in the race looked like slow-motion people on TV. They looked so silly that I started to laugh.
“Ella!” Aunty Jo shouted. “Run!”
I ran to the finish line with everyone else miles and miles behind me. I was the winner!
“Congrats, Ella!” Tom said once he made it past the finish line. He was panting and red in the face. “My legs felt so weird. I tried and tried, but I couldn’t run fast.”
“Great job!” said Aunty Jo, and gave me a huge hug. “You’ll get a gold medal now!”
Zoe was furious. “How did you win?” she hissed so nobody could hear but me. “It’s not fair. I’m the best at running.”
“You did wonderful, Ella!” said Mom, but she gave Aunty Jo a hard stare. “What happened to the others?”
“I have no idea,” said Aunty Jo. “Now it’s time for the long jump.”
We all lined up in front of the long jump. It was a tray of sand, and the person who jumped the farthest would be the winner. When my gym class had practiced the day before, I fell so hard on my butt that everyone laughed. I hoped I wouldn’t fall like that today.
Fairy Mom and Me Page 3
