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Sasha and Puck and the Potion of Luck

Page 4

by Daniel Nayeri; Anneliese Mak


  Puck was much happier with that arrangement. The oak door swung heavy on its hinges. In the doorway stood Vadim Gentry, master of the mansion. Sasha and Puck both had to crane their necks to look up at him. He was so tall, his head almost touched the top of the doorway. He was so broad, his shoulders almost touched the sides of the doorway.

  Sasha had not thought Vadim himself would open the door. It would usually be their butler, or maid, or horseman. She never would have knocked if she’d known. He spoke with a deep, unhappy voice, and did not say hello.

  “I was taking my wife for her walk.”

  “Um. Very sorry to bother you, Mr. Gentry.”

  “You’re the Bebbin girl.”

  “Yes. We’re here to see Basil. Is he around?”

  “How’s your father’s business doing?”

  “Oh, very good,” said Sasha. “If you ever need potions or medicine, we’d be happy to help.” Sasha didn’t want Vadim Gentry to think he could buy their store anytime soon. He always seemed to be waiting for his opportunity. Vadim stepped back into the house and pushed forward a chair with wheels that Sasha knew had been made by Gregor’s father.

  In the chair sat Rose Gentry with a blanket on her lap. She was as white as paper, with long brown hair that reminded Sasha of Basil. “Hello,” said Mrs. Gentry. Her smile was so warm and wilted and gentle. Sasha knew that she had been sick a long time.

  “Hi, Mrs. Gentry,” said Sasha. “I was just telling Mr. Gentry that if you ever need anything for your headaches…”

  Mrs. Gentry laughed weakly. “Oh, I know, dearest. Your mother was a great help to me. Have you heard from her?”

  “Not recently,” said Sasha.

  Mrs. Gentry seemed like the kind of woman Sasha’s mother would like. She took a box out from under the blanket on her lap and said, “My children bought me some bonbons. May I offer you some? Go on. You can take one.”

  Puck jumped forward and took two, which made Mrs. Gentry laugh. He ate them immediately. Sasha took a peanut butter chew as she glared at Puck and put it in her satchel for later.

  “Thank you,” she said. “That’s very kind of you.”

  Vadim pushed the chair, so there wasn’t much time to discuss Sasha’s mother. “I miss her very much,” said Rose.

  But Sasha didn’t have a chance to say, Me too.

  Over his shoulder, Vadim said, “Basil’s in the gardens, around the back. Beware of Abrus. He’s off his leash and will happily eat your friend.”

  “Well,” said Sasha, as they watched Vadim walk Rose along the courtyard. “That was intense.”

  “Guh,” said Puck.

  “I know,” said Sasha. “He’s always like that.”

  As they walked around the Gentry Mansion, Sasha said, “Abrus is their dog.”

  “Eh,” said Puck. He seemed to be unfazed. If he lived on the streets, he probably had to deal with dogs all the time. “Well, even so,” said Sasha, “if he comes for you, forget everything I said about biting and spitting, okay?”

  Puck nodded and punched his hand, like he was ready for a fight…which was kinda funny, ’cause he had the cutest chubby cheeks Sasha had ever seen.

  They turned the corner onto a stone patio with an arched row of columns. At the foot of each column was a star-shaped flower bed full of perfectly straight, black tulips. Beyond the black tulip portico was a grove of olive trees where they could see Basil and Sisal playing with a dog so big, it could have been a bear.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” said Sasha.

  “Hey!” said Sisal. “What are you doing here?”

  As soon as Abrus saw them, he barked, but Basil held him around the neck.

  “No, Abrus!” said Basil.

  “What are you doing here?” demanded Sisal.

  Sasha realized she had no reason to give them, besides her secret mission. “Uh,” she said, “we just came to say sorry for bumping into you at the chocolate shop.”

  “You came all the way up here for that?”

  “Yes,” said Sasha. She grabbed Puck’s hand and began to walk back around the house. Sisal narrowed her eyes. “You’re weird, Sasha Bebbin, and I don’t like you.”

  Sasha’s detective skills were failing her. She didn’t have a plan. “Okay, well, I was also hoping to see if Basil was interested in joining a science expedition I’m leading into the Willow Woods…to study…meadow flowers.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous,” said Sisal. “You can’t speak with him. He’s my brother.”

  “He’s standing right here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Sasha looked at Basil, who shrugged.

  Meanwhile, Puck was tense and staring at Abrus. This gave Sasha an idea. “How about this?” she said. “If Puck can race Abrus and win, you let me talk to your brother.”

  “That thing? Race my Abrus? Are you joking?”

  “Puck will win,” said Sasha with a smirk. Puck nodded.

  “Fine,” said Sisal. She leaned back and hurled her ball as far as she could. “Go, Abrus! Fetch!”

  The dog-bear took off. Puck stood still.

  He looked up at Sasha with a questioning look.

  “Go,” said Sasha.

  As quick as a pixie, he leapt into action. Abrus was fast, but Puck was a blur. He raced under the ball before it even hit the ground, caught it in his mouth, and ran back. Abrus gave chase.

  Puck zipped up to Sasha and gave her the wet ball.

  “See?” said Sasha. But her comment was cut short. Abrus was still running at them. And he looked furious. Sasha didn’t even have time to scream before Puck jumped in front of her. She could hear his tiny growl as he stood his ground in front of the beast that was ten times his size.

  Sasha had to think quickly.

  She reached into her satchel and grabbed the peanut butter chew she’d gotten from Mrs. Gentry. Then she threw it right at Abrus. The dog jumped in the air and caught it and became distracted with the gooey peanut butter in its mouth.

  That was the third time in one day that Sasha had lost her dessert.

  Puck was still growling. Sasha approached and touched him on the shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Puck. You did it.”

  Puck was shaking. As soon as she touched him, he turned around and hugged Sasha’s legs.

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  “Gooby,” he said, still shaken up. “Gooby gooby.”

  Basil ran up to Abrus and put the leash back on him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Who cares? Is Abrus okay?” said Sisal. “If your dirty, little rat creature had attacked him, my dad would have ruined you.”

  “It was your dog’s fault,” said Sasha. “He lost the race. Puck was just protecting me.”

  “There’s no need to threaten them, Sissy,” said Basil.

  “Why not? They’re on our land.”

  “That makes them our guests.”

  “Ugh. Basil. Papa’s right about you. You can be soft in the heart or soft in the head, but you can’t be both.”

  Sasha could see that this cut Basil deeply. Even Sisal seemed to realize she’d gone too far.

  “We’ll go,” said Sasha.

  “Thanks anyway,” said Basil. “I wouldn’t be any good on a science expedition.”

  They ran back around the mansion, along the walkway in front, over the little bridge across the Shivering River, and back down the hill toward the Village.

  “That was probably a mistake,” said Sasha.

  “Guh,” said Puck.

  “But did you notice what she said?”

  “Guh,” said Puck.

  “No, not the part about you being a dirty rat creature. I’m sorry about that. It was hurtful, but you must admit you need a bath. But anyway, not that. The part about Basil. It was awfully mean.”

  “Guh. Guh.”

  “Okay, both comments were mean. But the one about Basil was about being kind or dumb. I don’t think Basil is dumb, but he must be struggling with his schooli
ng. That’s why it hurt him. He must think she’s telling the truth.”

  Sasha got out her notebook and wrote a note under Basil’s name: Handsome and kind but not smart.

  Then she felt bad and changed it to: …not exactly the smartest, but still a good person with other wonderful qualities.

  Either way, she thought, they had their solution. It was Gregor that Ms. Kozlow loved. He was kind to his mice and passionate about his lab, certainly. Maybe Ms. Kozlow thought that made him handsome as well. The sun was starting to set, and Ms. K would be going to Granny Yenta soon. Sasha started to run again.

  “We have to find Gregor, or we’re sunk.”

  Chapter 9

  They couldn’t find him.

  “Of all the odds and oddity!” said Sasha. They had searched all over the Village, but Gregor Pavlov was nowhere to be found.

  The sun had set, and the last remains of twilight were beginning to fade. Papa would be wondering where she was. But Sasha wouldn’t give up.

  “We’ve cracked the case, Puck, and we’re still lost.”

  “Guh.”

  They walked to Ms. Kozlow’s shop. At the very least, they could try to give her a little encouragement that her luck would pick up the next day. They crossed the bridge into Upside and approached Le Bon Bonbon. Even at a distance, they could see the lights of the shop were dark.

  “Uh oh,” said Sasha.

  “Uh oh,” repeated Puck.

  The door of the shop suddenly opened, and Ms. K walked out, wearing a bright-yellow dress, mud boots, and her blue traveling hood. She locked the door and turned the wooden sign to the side that said “Closed for Business.”

  “She must be going to Granny Yenta tonight!” said Sasha. “Quick, Puck, I have a mission for you.”

  Puck straightened up and made a salute.

  “Run back to my house and get a bag of special hazelnut oatmeal feed from the chicken coop, then meet me at Granny Yenta’s.”

  Puck was off at a full run on all fours before she could finish. “And don’t eat it all,” she shouted after him.

  Then she turned and ran the other direction after Ms. Kozlow.

  “Hi, Ms. K. What are the odds I’d bump into you here?”

  “We’re in front of my shop,” said Ms. K, a bit confused.

  “Ha! I guess the odds are pretty good then.”

  Sasha made sure not to ask permission to walk with Ms. K, because she wouldn’t have gotten it. Ms. Kozlow seemed even more nervous than she had been back at Papa’s shop.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I do have an appointment.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Sasha. “Friends stick together.”

  Ms. K smiled and wiped a happy tear from her cheek. It occurred to Sasha how difficult it would be to move to a new village to start a new shop with no one else but a father who seemed to be very strict. Maybe Sasha was Ms. Kozlow’s only friend, the same way that she was Sasha’s.

  “Thank you,” said Ms. Kozlow.

  “It’s lucky to find a friend in a world as big as ours, isn’t it?”

  Ms. Kozlow nodded.

  They walked downriver, through the cheap market, where everyone was closing up for the night. The lamplighter tipped her hat to them as she held her metal rod up to a streetlight. A warm glow radiated from the lamp.

  Before they reached Dockside, they turned and left the Village on a small stone path that led into Thistlewood Swamp, the wetlands between the sea and the Willow Woods.

  The path narrowed as they passed thistles and crags, until it was just a line of stones surrounded by mud. They walked single file as they balanced on the rocks.

  Most of the time, they walked in silence toward Granny Yenta’s hut, which was deep in the swamp, in a glade of gnarled trees that looked like unhappy spirits. Everything in the swamp seemed to be thorny and poisonous. It was dark, but they could see the torches lit up around Granny Yenta’s cottage.

  Anyone who could survive there must be a tough person. “Do you think you’ll get what you want?” said Sasha as they began to approach the stone cottage.

  “I hope so,” said Ms. K. She seemed to be thinking about more things than she could carry. Then she said, “You have a nice dad.”

  “Thanks,” said Sasha. She wanted to be more helpful. “And he’s very good. I’m sure you’ll have the luck you need.”

  Ms. K smiled as she used the stone mallet to knock on the metal door of the cottage. “I have a good feeling that you’re right,” she said. “In fact, I—”

  Before she could finish, they heard a “Heads up!” from inside the small cottage. The door swung open, and Granny Yenta flung a bucket of water all over Ms. Kozlow.

  “Ooh,” said Sasha, wincing at the sight of Ms. Kozlow soaked from head to toe. “That’s unlucky.”

  Chapter 10

  Granny Yenta was not a witch, but people said she had some goblin in her, and that’s why she had a greenish complexion. She was not tall, and she was not safe. But she was not false, and she was not weak.

  “Ack! I’m so sorry,” she said. “You must be Letty Kozlow. The version of you that has fallen into a lake, I mean.”

  Granny Yenta didn’t invite them inside her cottage. Instead, she walked out, grabbed Ms. K by the hand, and walked her around the house.

  “Come with me to the back. We’ll perform the ceremony there.”

  Ms. Kozlow was still shivering from the shock of being doused with freezing cold well water.

  “Was soaking her part of the ceremony?” said Sasha, rushing to keep up with them.

  “What? Who’s this? Who’re you?”

  “I’m Sasha Bebbin.”

  “Maxima’s daughter?”

  “That’s my mom.”

  “I liked her. How is she?”

  “Still gone. Is this supposed to be a magic ceremony?”

  “Oh. Sorry, kid.”

  “Do you hit her with water and wait to see which of the boys gets a cold or something?”

  “What? No. Nothing that silly,” said Granny Yenta, waving away the silliness. She led them around the stone house to a sparse dirt lot, where a particularly arrogant rooster was walking in circles, waiting for dinner.

  “Are you going to use the chicken?” said Sasha. “I thought you’d use the chicken to detect her heart vibrations or something.”

  Granny Yenta stopped and looked at Sasha for the first time. She lifted her glasses to squint at her, then squinted at her through the glasses some more. “You are an odd little child,” she said.

  “So I’m right about the chicken,” said Sasha.

  “He’s a rooster. His name is Samson, and he doesn’t detect her vibrations.” She said that last part in a namby-pamby voice. “He’s magic.”

  Granny explained that in the pen next to the chicken, she had poured chicken feed on the ground in the shape of every letter of the alphabet. When she let Samson into the yard, he would peck at the letters and spell out the name of Ms. Kozlow’s future husband.

  “Right, okay,” said Sasha. “So then why soak her with water?”

  “That was just an accident,” said Granny Yenta. “I was gonna mop my floor, and there was a spider in there.”

  Then she turned to Ms. K and said, “Sorry about that, dear.”

  “It’s no trouble,” said Ms. K. She’d become a bit sheepish, either because she’d just heard that Granny had thrown a spider on her, or because her entire fate depended on a magical chicken. “Granny Yenta,” she pleaded, “would it be possible to ask your chicken my future? I would love to make this quick and quiet.”

  Unfortunately for Ms. K, that was when they heard the hubbub of people walking around the cottage to the dirt lot.

  “Of all the odds,” said Sasha.

  “Sorry, dear,” said Granny Yenta, “but we’ve got company.”

  “Blast my luck,” said Ms. K.

  Chapter 11

  Latouche, Basil, Sisal, Gregor, and Papa all emerged from around the house in v
arious forms of panic.

  “I’ve come to save the day!” said Latouche, panting.

  “We thought you were in trouble,” said Basil.

  “Why?” said Ms. K. She looked horrified that everyone would be there to see her matchmaking ceremony.

  “There was a sign on your shop door,” said Gregor. “It said LOVE EMERGENCY in a hasty scrawl. It looked like someone had used coal dust, and it was misspelled. We thought you were in danger.”

  Granny Yenta scoffed at the idea.

  “Right,” said Latouche, “except the sign said SAVE ME, LATOUCHE.”

  Sisal chimed in, “I thought it said NO MORE CHOCOLATE.”

  Papa said, “To me, the sign looked like it said HELP SASHA, so I came running.”

  “How could the same sign say such different things?” said Sasha.

  “It was really bad handwriting,” said Papa.

  “Okay, enough,” said Granny Yenta. “Time for everyone to go.”

  The crowd erupted into everyone talking at once. In the chaos, Sasha felt a pull on her sleeve. She looked down to see Puck beside her.

  “Was this your doing?” said Sasha. “I didn’t even know you could write.”

  Puck shrugged and held out the bag of hazelnut feed. Sasha noticed he had bruises on his arms, a few new scratches on his cheek, and it was hard to tell—his hair being so messy to begin with—but clumps of it were missing.

  “What happened to you? Did you get in a fight with Otto? Our pig Otto?”

  Puck tensed and growled when she said Otto’s name. Sasha felt a pang of guilt for sending him unaware into such a dangerous situation. But there was no time for that now.

  “Quick,” she said, “keep them distracted.”

  The group was still arguing about what the sign said, what it meant, and whether or not they were needed at the matchmaking.

  Sasha squeezed between the fence posts and quickly poured the hazelnut feed over some of the letters. It was the special blend that Papa had made when their chickens got sick. They loved it. She hoped Samson would too.

 

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