A Sprinkle of Spirits

by Anna Meriano

  She seemed much happier with the look of the recipe book, which was old and handwritten and appropriately witchy. She also kept Daddy’s rolling chair between herself and Abuela. “That’s a ghost?” she whispered to Tricia.

  Abuela gave a wolflike smile and waved her arms until petals fluttered to the floor.

  “Oo-oo-ooh,” she moaned, and then laughed when Mai jumped and screamed. “Sorry, don’t pay any attention to me. I’m a jerk, but I think I’m funny. I’m glad to meet you, and I’m grateful for your help.”

  Mai nodded, short black pigtails wobbling, but she didn’t come out from behind the chair.

  “You don’t look like an abuela,” Tricia pointed out, eyeing Abuela suspiciously and looking ready to join Mai in the corner.

  “She’s aging in reverse,” Leo explained. “We have to find all the spirits and send them back quickly, before they stop existing altogether.”

  Mai’s eyes were wide. “If she ages backward and stops existing, does that mean your mom and you were never born?”

  Leo hid her giggle behind her hand, but Abuela did not. “No,” she explained while Mai turned red. “It’s just the spirits who are in danger of becoming real ghosts, the restless haunting kind. It doesn’t erase the things I did while I was alive.”

  “Don’t worry.” Tricia elbowed Mai sympathetically. “I don’t have any idea what’s happening either. Welcome to Leo’s world.”

  “I’m sorry,” Leo said. “I know this is a lot to take in. And I’m sorry for not telling you the truth sooner. But everything is happening so fast, and I . . . I can’t do this by myself. I need my snack club.”

  Mai and Tricia exchanged a glance, then nodded. “We don’t mind helping,” Mai said. “I mean, this is really weird, but exciting.”

  “I always wanted to be a Ghostbuster,” Tricia added.

  “And I’ll try to explain better,” Leo promised. “We have about five minutes before the ojos de buey are ready—there’s a spell on them that will help us find out where the spirits have gone.”

  She was halfway through explaining the plan when Alma opened the office door.

  “Leo, your friend is at the front counter acting extremely suspicious and freaking out customers. Will you please come get him?”

  “What?” Leo, Tricia, and Mai scrambled to follow Alma. The four girls burst through the swinging blue doors to the sight of Brent Bayman arguing with Daddy through a mouthful of empanada.

  “But we had a deal,” he said indignantly. “Ask Leo! I’ve been helping her out, and I earned these, fair and square!”

  “I’m sorry, Brent, but you can’t help yourself to free food, no matter what Leo said.” Daddy sounded tired, his friendly customer voice stretched tight, like it was ready to break. “And you, sir,” he called to an old man behind Brent, “I need you to pay for that. I hope you’re not going to tell me you’ve made a deal with my daughter as well.”

  Leo and Mai gasped in unison as the gray-haired customer turned around, petals stirring beneath his feet and a half-eaten concha hanging from his mouth. His hair was thicker and the skin around his eyes was smooth, but there was no mistaking the shiny silver glasses or the face that had taught all of them to breathe from their diaphragm.

  Brent had found Mr. Nguyen.

  “Believe me,” the spirit said, “I didn’t willingly enter into any deals with these children. In fact—”

  “Daddy!” Leo rushed to the front of the counter and tugged his sleeve. “Um, can I talk to you?”

  “Leonora.” Daddy sounded cheerful, but his arched eyebrows told a different story. “I hear you’ve been making some promises to your friends.”

  “Yes.” Leo twisted her hands around each other. The bakery was still full of customers, and even if they weren’t all exactly staring straight at her, it felt like they were. “Um, it was a special situation?”

  “The ends justify the means, is that it?” Mr. Nguyen asked bitterly. Leo didn’t know how Brent had gotten him here at all if he was so grumpy about it, but she couldn’t ask right in front of everyone.

  “Leo, you can’t be giving out free buffet passes to your friends. If you—” Daddy stopped when he finally noticed Leo’s eyebrows hopping up and down. “Oh,” he said. “A special circumstance.” He sighed. “Why don’t you both go talk to your mother about this?” He raised his voice for the customers to hear better. “She’ll explain why we can’t be giving out our wares for free.” He winked an apology at Brent, shook his head at Leo, and gave them both a push toward the kitchen. “And you, sir—”

  “Oh, he’s coming with us,” Leo said quickly. “He’s the . . . repair . . . person . . .” She lost steam with her lie, but luckily Daddy didn’t need any more hints.

  “Of course. Glad you were able to make it. We really did need that specialty oven part. Leo will show you back to the kitchen.” He made a face at Leo, who shrugged. “Now, who’s waiting to check out?” He returned to the cash register while Leo and her friends dragged a grumbling Mr. Nguyen back to the kitchen.

  “What were you thinking?” Alma whisper-hissed at Leo as soon as they were safe.

  “What were you thinking?” Leo turned to Brent, who was looking way too pleased with himself and his empanada.

  “Why didn’t you tell us that Mr. Nguyen was one of the people who came back?” Mai asked Leo in a whisper, looking at the spirit with a less nervous smile. Mr. Nguyen’s grouchy face softened a bit when he saw her, and he greeted her with a pat on the head that she didn’t cringe away from.

  “You said to come to the bakery.” Brent shrugged. “It took us a little longer since we didn’t both fit on my bike, and I got hungry. You did say I could have free samples for life.”

  Leo breathed in through her nose and counted to ten like Isabel always told Marisol to do. She tried to remember that she needed her friends’ help and that she was grateful. “Thank you,” she said between clenched teeth. “For finding him. Good job. Just so you know, there is a back door you can use for sensitive things like delivering wayward spirits.”

  “Or blackmailing them,” Mr. Nguyen muttered.

  Brent shrugged again. “Okay, okay, I get it. Where are the rest of the flower ghosts?”

  “Uh . . .” Leo kicked a crack in the orange-tiled floor. “We didn’t exactly find anyone else.”

  Brent’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Yes! I’m the best Ghostbuster!” He raised his fists in triumph.

  “Brent!” Leo smacked his arm while Tricia rolled her eyes. “That’s bad news. They’re in danger, and we need to find them.”

  Brent grimaced and opened his mouth, probably to apologize, but Mamá shouted them out of her path as she came by with a hot tray. Leo gathered her friends back into the office, where they would be slightly crowded but not in the way.

  “What are you doing back?” Mai was asking Mr. Nguyen. “There aren’t problems in your family too, are there?”

  “No, no, nothing to worry about, cháu,” Mr. Nguyen assured her. “It was an entirely professional issue that brought me to the school. My piano”—he frowned at Brent as he said it—“was in terrible condition.”

  “Weird,” Brent said. “Mr. Nguyen has a family?”

  Leo rolled her eyes along with Tricia and Mai, even though she did think it was a little bit weird for teachers to have lives and families outside of school. But she knew not to say it.

  “Yeah, he’s my uncle,” Mai said. “Not my real uncle, but I call him my uncle. He knows my parents.”

  “Say hello to them for me,” Mr. Nguyen said.

  Mai raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Um, you’re a ghost.”

  Mr. Nguyen nodded slowly. “Good point. On second thought, maybe it’s best if you don’t.”

  “Yeah, don’t get any ideas.” Brent wagged a warning finger at Mr. Nguyen. “Everything I said still applies if anyone besides the people in this room finds out you’re really a ghost.”

  Mr. Nguyen threw up his hands. “I agreed alread
y, Mr. Bayman. Honestly, this is why I never taught middle school.”

  “Agreed to what?” Leo said. Brent looked awfully guilty. “What did you tell him?”

  “Well, I had to convince him to come with me somehow,” Brent said. “He didn’t want to leave the piano to follow some random kid, and someone didn’t give me any magic shrink rays to use on him.”

  “I don’t have magic shrink—” Leo started, but Mr. Nguyen interrupted her.

  “He threatened to destroy my piano after I left this world.”

  “What?” Tricia gasped.

  “Brent!” Leo scolded.

  “Dang.” Mai nodded at Brent. “Good thinking.” Mr. Nguyen gave her his disappointed teacher face.

  “Thank you.” Brent pointed at Mai. “I didn’t exactly see anyone else capture their spirits. Besides, I also promised I’d check in on the piano every month or so if he cooperated.”

  Leo wanted to tell him that threats were not what she had meant by “using your words,” but Belén knocked on the office door and poked her head in. “Leo, your timer’s done.”

  “I’ll grab them,” Abuela said from where she had been leaning against one corner of Mamá’s desk, looking like she might like to escape herself. She jumped to unload the spelled pan dulce, and Leo made sure all her friends kept a safe distance from the oven and burning tray as they followed her into the kitchen.

  “They look . . . normal,” Tricia said, eyeing the ojos de buey as they cooled.

  “I mean, they look kind of weird,” Mai argued. “Is it a pie filled with cake?”

  Leo shrugged. “Kind of? Or like a muffin with crust. You can’t see the spell, but once you take a bite, you’ll be able to tell.”

  “Mysterious,” Mai said, picking up one of the hot pastries off the cooling rack and then dropping it.

  “Yep,” Leo said. She didn’t mention that the spell, and how it would work, was still a mystery to her as well.

  They stared impatiently at the rack of baked goods. The smell of the spongy muffins filled Leo’s nose, accompanied by a whiff of spicy magic. “All right, I’m going in,” Brent said, picking up one of the circular ojos with the tips of his fingers. “We just have to take a bite?”

  Leo glanced at Abuela, who nodded. Brent bit into the ojo de buey, cracking the harder outer layer, and ripped off a chunk of the squishy inside. Mai followed, then Leo and Tricia. After some consideration, Abuela and Mr. Nguyen decided to split one, even though they weren’t sure the spell would work on spirits.

  “Did it work?” Brent asked with his mouth stuffed full. “Do ooo see anyfing?”

  Leo nibbled the still-hot edge of her ojo de buey. “I don’t—oh.”

  She gasped as glowing lines started to streak in front of her eyes like lightning. Her vision filled with them until she had to cover her face with her hands, but she could still see the storm of shifting lights, stronger than afterimages. Just when she thought her head might burst, the storm stopped. She slowly uncovered her face and opened her eyes.

  A dim crisscross of golden-orange lines stayed visible, their edges shifting when she stared too hard. One short thick one looped lazily around the kitchen, while others stretched straight through walls to cut the room into sections.

  “Are these . . . ?”

  “Ha ha, look.” Brent prodded Mr. Nguyen, who stepped away with a grunt of protest. When he moved, he left a thick line of light behind him, which shed pieces of itself to become the trail of marigold petals.

  “Whoa,” Tricia whispered. “Wild.”

  “Did your spell make these?” Mai reached out to touch the golden light, but her hand passed through it like the beam of a projector.

  Leo shrugged, resisting the urge to touch the nearest light to see if it felt like anything.

  “Actually, the spell only affects your eyes,” Abuela said. “The energy trails, the magic we leave behind, were always here. Now we can all see them, which will make it easier to find our friends.” She clapped her hands and brushed crumbs off her sweater. “So now that we can track them, let’s get started. Leo? What’s the plan?”

  CHAPTER 15

  ON THE HUNT

  The plan was to split up. Tricia and Mai, who would be walking, took one of the lights that seemed the most strong and steady, as they assumed that meant that their spirit was close by. Leo partnered with Brent, whose bike had pegs on the wheels for a second person to stand on, and they chose the next brightest thread. Abuela and Mr. Nguyen would take the van to track the thinnest stretched path.

  “You’re sure you’ll behave?” Leo asked. “Both of you? And come right back here when you find your spirit?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to . . . well, you know what I mean,” Abuela teased.

  “I’m still being coerced with the threat of piano violence,” Mr. Nguyen said woefully.

  “That’s right.” Brent nodded. “I know where the science teachers keep all the weird chemicals. I bet it wouldn’t do your piano any favors if I dumped some of them inside.”

  “Middle schoolers,” Mr. Nguyen muttered sadly, shaking his head as he followed Abuela to the parking lot.

  “Okay.” Leo looked at her friends. “We find the spirits. We use our charm and our logic—”

  “—or threats if necessary,” Mai added.

  “But hopefully not,” Leo continued, “to get them to come with us. We meet back at Caroline’s. Call if anything goes wrong. Ready?”

  Tricia and Mai nodded solemnly. Brent stole one of the half-eaten ojos de buey off the counter and popped it into his mouth.

  “C’mon,” he said. “My bike’s locked in the front.”

  Leo had never stood on the back of a bike before. She had a bike, a small green hand-me-down from Belén with tassels on the handlebars, but she hadn’t used it much since elementary school; it was currently in the garage with a cobweb-covered seat and flat tires. With the air rushing past her and ruffling her hair out of its braid, it was a little too cold for comfortable biking, and Leo found herself wishing she’d worn a heavier jacket, or that Brent was taller so he could block more wind. Still, they crossed downtown in seconds and turned from Main Street onto Rose Street to follow the glowing thread, and Leo began thinking that she should pull her bike out of its dusty retirement. This was way faster than walking.

  “What happens if the path goes through a building or something?” Brent asked, shouting to be heard. “Do we go around? Will we lose the path, or will it recalculate like a GPS?”

  “I don’t know,” Leo called back, leaning to speak into his ear and accidentally crashing her face into the hard shell of his helmet. She grimaced and leaned away, setting the bike wobbling as she shook her head.

  “Watch out.” Brent swayed but kept the bike upright. “What if the ghosts die—or disintegrate or whatever—before we get there? Will the path just disappear?”

  “I don’t know,” Leo answered again. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “How long before the special sight wears off?” Brent asked next, swerving around the big pothole in front of the H-E-B that Daddy always forgot to avoid in his truck. “How long until the spirits disintegrate? Can Caroline do anything magical to keep it from happening?”

  Leo was busy trying to keep her hair out of her mouth with one hand while keeping her balance on Brent’s shoulder with the other. “I—ack—don’t—ptoo—know!”

  Brent was quiet while they slowed for a stop sign where Rose Street met Park Road. “You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

  As they coasted to a stop, the bike lurched through a deep puddle in the road, and Leo’s left foot slipped off its step. She flailed and leaned, upsetting the balance of the bike, and jumped backward onto the street to avoid falling. She stumbled but stayed upright as Brent righted the bike and swerved to a full stop a few feet in front of her.

  “Leo! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She shook out her feet, which stung a little from standing on the narrow pegs and hit
ting the asphalt. “I’m fine.”

  “I’m sorry—I didn’t see it. I should have given you my helmet; you’re probably in the more dangerous position, statistically speaking.” He unclipped his helmet and offered it to her. “I bet we’re almost there anyways. Look at the trail.”

  Sure enough, the glowing gold light snaking down the street looked thicker and brighter than before.

  Leo clipped the blue-and-green helmet under her chin and tilted it up off her forehead. Brent settled himself on the bike as she climbed back up on the pegs, holding Brent’s shoulders a little more tightly this time.

  “Ready?” Brent asked. Leo grunted a yes. They took off, and her stomach swooped even though Brent pedaled more slowly and steered more carefully this time.

  “You know, I’m trying to learn,” Leo said after her shoulders relaxed and her body settled into the cold rush of motion. “About magic, I mean. I study all the time, and I know a lot about the basics, sort of. Or . . . not a lot, but . . . I’m trying. It’s just that things keep getting complicated. But I know some things.”

  Brent’s light brown head of hair nodded. “I know. I’m the one who doesn’t know anything about any of this. I never asked questions before because, well, it wasn’t like my first experience with magic was all that great. And I thought magic was just your thing, and Caroline and I would still be, you know, muggles or whatever.” He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “But now, it’s like you two have this whole new magical world of cool stuff to do and to learn, and I’m scared I’ll be . . .”

  “Left out,” Leo finished for him. “I know. That’s how I felt before. And Caroline too.”

  Brent’s shoulders raised and lowered.

  “We wouldn’t do that,” Leo said. “But I understand. Sometimes I listen to my sisters too much and do silly things and forget who my friends are. But Caroline wouldn’t. And I won’t either, anymore.”

  They biked up to Rose Hill Park, where Park Road got its name. Brent crossed the street to ride on the bike path surrounding the park, and they hit a patch of sunlight that warmed the back of Leo’s neck.