Almost Magic

by Kathleen Bullock

  His yellow-green eyes scowled at me. “Did you do this, hexe?”

  “Do what?” I snapped. I didn’t like his tone.

  “Pull me out of the sky without warning. Wham into the lightning rod—bam through the roof.” He pointed at the bump on his head. “Dieses smarts!”

  I helped the creature to his feet. “I did no such thing. You were blown by the wind. You shouldn’t have been out flying in this weather. Do you want me to get you an aspirin?”

  He pushed my hands away. “Nein. I need a vacation. I hate my job!” He peered through the hole between the rafters. “At least it’s a cloudy night. Maybe I’ll get a break.”

  I sighed, but had to ask. “A break from what?”

  “From wishes! I am Glucky Stern, the Wish-Upon-A-Star Fairy. You have no idea, no idea, how many kids wish on stars each night.”

  “You?” I pulled my shoulders back. “No way! The Wish Fairy is Stella Fortunata and she’s a—a—a—”

  “A frau?”

  “Yes, a lady.”

  The round little man with the skinny legs strutted about the attic, opening boxes and poking his nose into drawers. “She tricked me into taking over for her. I haven’t had a single night’s peace since. And now your lightning rod has knocked the apple strudel out of me.”

  Glucky whirled about with a shrewd expression on his face. Then he began to limp across the room, using his wand as a cane. “Will you give an old, injured fairy a break? Take my place for just one night?” He groaned. “Technically, my accident was your fault.”

  I snorted. “As if! You should have looked where you were going.” Then I paused, and tried to imagine myself in a tulip dress and fairy wings. It could be cute, but—“No, I don’t think so. My parents wouldn’t let me.”

  “One night only, liebling,” he pleaded. “You’ll save my life, and…” He batted his green-lashed eyes. “Think of the kinder…”

  “Well-l-l…” I’d hate to disappoint the kinder—er, children.

  The attic door banged open and Corny stood silhouetted, brandishing her wand, Artemis. “Apollonia Louise Bramblewood! Don’t say another word. Not a peep! This—this pitiful excuse for a fairy is trying to trick you!”

  I clamped my lips shut.

  A thin cord whisked from the tip of Corny’s wand and wrapped around the fairy, lifting him a few feet in the air. Caught like a fly in a web, he struggled and cursed.

  “Horseradish! Sauerkraut! Wiener schnitzel! Why’d you go and do that? I’m only asking for a little help.”

  “Ha!” Corny snorted. “Fibber. Your plan is to get someone to THINK they’re doing you a one-time favor, but if they agree, they’ll be stuck, just as you were, granting wishes forever. I have it on the best authority.”

  “Ja, sure. Don’t listen to her, little girlie. She don’t know her ankles from her elbows!”

  “You wish, liar-lips!” Corny waved a sheet of paper at him. “I just printed this out. For your information, all agreements both written and verbal are now publicly recorded on the Wizarding website, charmedcontracts.wiz. Get with it, little mensch. There are no secrets anymore.

  “Listen to this, Apple.” She snapped the paper and read: “Agreement between Stella Fortunata, Wish Fairy No. 2947, and Gluckmeister Stern, unemployed fey. Gluckmeister Stern agrees to undertake the job of Wish Fairy for the continuous period of one night in exchange for Grade A Wish #12, a pot of gold. Gluckmeister Stern may not break this agreement under any circumstances without a reliable substitute from the magical community. Signed, S. Fortunata, and notarized by the Wizarding Guild.”

  Glucky’s face turned gray. His eyes narrowed. “That witch!” he sputtered.

  “Excuse me? Excu-use me?” Corny snapped, pointing her wand at his heart. “Is that a witch put-down? I ought to…”

  “NO, no, no! It’s just not fair. Now I’ll never get a replacement.” Glucky stared, not at her wand, but at the stars appearing in a clear patch of sky.

  I saw a flicker of fear flash in his eyes.

  “Here they come,” he shrieked. “Cover your noggins!” Suddenly, dozens of miniature crystals fell through the hole in the roof and pelted us.

  “Ouch!” One of the larger crystals bounced off my head. I picked it up and immediately heard the high-pitched voice of a child. “Star light, star bright, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight. I wish I had a puppy. Old Spot died and I miss him.”

  Corny held another in her hand. “I wish I could pass my big exam tomorrow. I’ve studied hard, but I always fail.”

  The voices carried inside the crystals echoed all around us.

  “I wish we had a bigger house. I have to sleep in the same room with my brothers and I need some privacy.”

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” Glucky ground his teeth and ducked as the crystal pellets popped around him. “I can’t stand it—can’t stand it—anymore!”

  “I wish my boyfriend would call me…”

  “I wish I had a baby sister like my friend Emily…”

  I looked at Corny. “So many wishes! Can’t we do something?”

  Cornelia shook her head. “Not possible. This is Gluckmeister’s job, fair and square. I wouldn’t want to chance it.” She frowned. “I’d better untie the old faker so he can get back to work.” She slashed the air with her wand. The cord binding Glucky disappeared and he dropped onto the floor.

  He whined. “I can’t handle this job alone. No one can.” Glucky pulled a scroll of parchment from the inner pocket of his jacket and flipped it open. The paper unraveled across the attic floor, out the door, and down the stairs. “These are the wishes from one week only. The ones with stars are granted. The rest?” Glucky rolled his eyes. “I haff a headache. I quit.”

  “No, please don’t quit,” I begged. “Think of something, Corny! There’s got to be a way to help. For tonight only. Please?”

  Cornelia looked at the long list of wishes and tapped her foot. She scowled. “Maybe this one time, but only if Glucky puts it in writing that he’s still the one and only official Wish Fairy.”

  “Ach, the trickery here isn’t mine!” He pouted. “But I agree.”

  Corny pulled a pen and a piece of paper from thin air. The pen scribbled furiously before she handed it to the fairy and made him sign. Then Corny sent their “contract for services” to the Wizarding Guild. Poooff!

  As the incoming wish crystals opened and spoke, I watched them appear in writing on the parchment. I read the one at the top of the list.

  “I wish I could find my lost teddy bear.”

  “That one sounds perfect for you, Appie.” Corny snapped her fingers at the fairy. “Apple hasn’t mastered self-transportation yet, Gluck-man. Trade wands. The Wish-wand practically runs on automatic.”

  Haughtily, Glucky flicked his gaudy wand at me. I burned with embarrassment. “Be good, Wanda,” I whispered, sending her away. Maybe she’d appreciate me better after a stint with Glucky.

  The next moment, clasping the Wish-wand tightly but saying nothing, I found myself flying topsy-turvy through space to land in the messy bedroom of a very tiny boy. The child’s head rested on the windowsill. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open. He’d fallen asleep.

  I swished the wand and whispered, “Find the little bear that might be in here somewhere.” The magic wand twitched around the room from corner to corner, and finally pointed at an overflowing hamper.

  I tiptoed over and dumped it out. Sure enough, a fuzzy brown bear was wedged at the bottom. I tucked the toy under the sleeping child’s arm and grinned with satisfaction at the easy accomplishment.

  “Home!” I commanded.

  I landed with a soft thud in my own attic. The wishes were arriving at a slower pace, but the list was still daunting.

  “Where’s Corny?”

  Glucky scratched his green hair with a feather pen. “Someone stole a purse from a little fräulein. Der Diktator went to leave a clue for die polizei.”

  “Good idea. What’s n
ext for me, Wish Fairy?”

  He drew a line through another item. “I’m going to give this mütter of seven a winning lottery ticket. Why don’t you take the next wish?”

  I leaned over to read. “I wish I had my old job back.” Uh oh, this one sounded complicated. I didn’t know what help I could be, but I’d try my best.

  I snapped the air with the ever-eager Wish-wand and whisked away in a whirlwind, landing under a palm tree. My feet sank into warm white sand. The sun radiated off the beach and sparkled on the cool blue of the sea. I looked around, dazzled.

  “Behind you,” said a tiny voice. “And watch your step.”

  “Okay.” I hopped forward, turned around, and squinted in the brightness. A very plump fairy reclined on a lounge chair, wearing a colorful bathing suit and a big straw hat. She looked a bit like a beach ball with wings.

  “Stella? Is that you?”

  “Little Apollonia Bramblewood? What a surprise, cara mia.” She stared at the Wish-wand. “Don’t tell me Glucky has entrapped you? That nefarious diavoletto!” Her face turned red.

  “N-no.” I stammered a bit. “I hope not! But I am—helping. I’m here to get someone’s old job back.”

  Stella Fortunata flashed a dazzling smile.

  A light went off in my head. “Oh, my stars and asteroids!”

  Stella pouted. “Well, it took him long enough to get to me. I’ve been wishing on a star every night this month.”

  “Why?”

  “I made a mistake. Look—” She patted her tummy. “Fat! The soft life is not for me. I don’t know what I was thinking, letting someone like Glucky take over. What a flying disaster. I need to get back and fix things. Although it was very hard work, I miss the satisfaction.”

  I looked around. “If I were you, I’d stay in this paradise forever.”

  “Yes, it is molto bello.” Stella sighed. “But I want my old job back.”

  Ignoring the smell of the sea breeze and the warmth of the brilliant sun, I stuck to the task at hand. “Let’s go, then.”

  Stella held onto her sunhat and reached for her old wand. “May I have the honor?”

  The Wish-wand was so fast and congenial, so eager to please, I almost hated to let it go. But, with a little nod, I handed it off.

  Stella and I set down safely in the cluttered attic. Corny and Glucky were both away. Stella glanced at the hole in the roof and tsk-tsked. “Glucky?” Then her eyebrows raised at the long unraveled stream of parchment stretched across the floor. “Oh, no. This is worse than I imagined. Look at all these unanswered wishes. What does that devil Gluckmeister do all night?”

  A tiny crystal fell through the roof. “I wish I had a chocolate bar.”

  Stella flicked the wand. “Done.” The chubby fairy smiled. “I’m counting on your help, Apple-pie.” She waved her arms. “This one time only, I promise. No tricks.”

  I nodded. “You can count on me.”

  “Bambino dolce! We have a big chore ahead. Let’s do the easy ones first.”

  When Corny and Glucky arrived from their separate missions, Stella tore lengths off the roll for each of them. She explained the methods a good Wish Fairy uses to do her job. “Remember,” she advised, “Not all wishes can be granted. Not all wishes are worthy. But all the wishes need to be answered, not ignored.”

  She tapped her wand against the list. “Take this one, for example—‘I wish I had a million dollars.’ Well, that’s a near-impossible wish to grant. I can’t just pull money out of the air. The real world notices things like that. I’m going to send him a memory directing him to that lost fifty-dollar gift certificate his mother sent him for his birthday. He’ll feel like a million dollars!” She winked. “And here’s another one. Little Bethie wishes her Grandpa would come back. Oh, it breaks my heart, but I haven’t got the power to raise the dead. I do know where she can find an old photo album with pictures of Grandpa as a boy. That might give her comfort. You’d be surprised at how often I’ve used dreams and hunches and misdirection as magical aids.”

  I understood. Not all wishes could come true, but all were answered, one way or another.

  I heard the ridiculous putt-putt of my dad’s old car braking on the drive and my parents entered the house, dropping packages and groceries in the hall. “Hey, kids,” my mother shouted. “We’re home.”

  “Up here,” I called. I knew my parents might be upset at the hole in the roof, but I was confident for once that it wasn’t my fault. In fact, when they came up, after a few words with Stella, they cheerfully pitched in to help, totally ignoring the gaping hole. (At least for the moment.)

  Just before dawn, when the last wish was answered, everyone collapsed. I flopped onto an old sleeping bag and looked up through the hole at the pinking sky. Corny sank beside me and our weary heads touched as we watched the last star fade.

  “What a job,” my sister sighed. “No wonder Stella Fortunata needed a vacation.”

  “Glucky, too.” I sat up. “By the way, what happened to the little diavoletto?”

  “Gone! Good riddance! Arrivederci!” Stella rolled the parchment. “I tore up our contract. But I’m too soft-hearted—I let him keep the pot of gold.” She brushed herself off and gasped, as if realizing for the first time that she was still wearing her bathing suit. She rose on tip-toe and spun like a top. Then, staggering to a stop, she appeared in her trademark pink tulip dress festooned with sequins and stars. Her wings fluttered as she wound her pink cotton-candy hair up on her head. “Oh, this dress is a tight fit, but I’ll soon be back in shape.”

  I rubbed my tired eyes. “Stella, I don’t understand how you tricked Glucky in the first place. The contract clearly states, ‘for one night only.’”

  Stella dimpled sweetly. She tapped her forehead and winked. “Well, my dears, the contract clearly stated one continuous night only. It’s always night somewhere on Earth. The wishes never stop coming. Farewell, Bramblewoods, I’m off to Tokyo. Take a well-deserved rest!” She held up the wand with the star and tittered. “By the way—in thanks for all the help you’ve given me, I will grant a special wish for your family. When you know what you want, just call and I’ll hear. Sayonara!”

  With a tiny wave, she was gone.

  We Bramblewoods stretched and yawned.

  I eyed the roof and pointed. “Are you going to call a carpenter, Dad?”

  Grizzwald pulled his glasses off his nose and rubbed his eyes. “Nope, not this time.” With a snap of his fingers, the roof mended. Dad never used a wand; he was that good of a Wizard. “Magic is a wonderful convenience, and I’ve had a long day. Besides, what the world doesn’t know can’t hurt us.”

  My mom nestled into Great-Aunt Wisteria’s ugly over-stuffed chair. Puffs of dust rose around her. “Gather around, family, we must have a conference.” She patted her knee and beckoned me to sit there.

  Even as big as I was, I loved curling up with Mother. I put an arm around her neck and rested my head on her shoulder.

  Grizzwald nodded and Corny’s wondering eyes widened. “Why a conference, Momsy?”

  “This is the second time in the last few weeks that Apple has attracted a troubled spirit—Norafina Nebb, and now Gluckmeister Stern. They’ve been drawn here—not to Cornelia, nor Dad, nor me, but to Apple.”

  Cornelia and I exchanged a glance. Mom still didn’t know about Phil.

  “I believe our girl may be coming into her talent,” Mom continued. “She may be an Attractor. I’ll put out a call to Dr. DeCharmer to come and give her a check-up.”

  I shivered. Not him again! The episode of the melted wristwatch rose in my mind. The doctor hadn’t been very sympathetic. I remembered how he tutted and grimaced as he looked at my wrist. “Again, Miss Bramblewood? I’m here so often, I wonder your father doesn’t adopt me.” (That was clearly a snarky remark. The doctor is twice as old as my dad.) “And,” he had continued, “I see the scorched hair fiasco hasn’t improved much either. Tut-tut.”

  Cornelia’s skeptical voice bro
ught me back to the moment. “I thought Attractors went out with fire-breathing dragons.”

  “They are very rare,” Dad answered. “And I hope your mother is wrong.”

  Magdella brushed a loose strand of hair off my forehead. “I do, and I don’t. True, it’s not an easy life, but it’s one of the highest callings. What do you think, Apple?”

  I shrugged. What could I say? Troubled creatures had been dogging me for longer than they realized. Mom and Dad hadn’t paid much attention to my stories in the past. Honestly, I don’t think they ever believed me.

  I rubbed my still-sensitive wrist. “Do you really have to call the doctor again?”

  “Yes. And a special tutor, too. You, dear girl, are due for an accelerated series of magic lessons.” The satisfaction in my mother’s voice was unmistakable.

  Ugh, more school work. It wasn’t easy being a witch—I mean wizard. I looked up at the stars.

  Oh, how I wished I could spend some time on Stella’s island instead!

  Suddenly an envelope appeared in my hand, the words “Your Wish is Granted” printed neatly on the outside. Inside I found four invitations to Stella’s Paradiso Island in the Bahamas and a bulging packet of fairy dust.

  “Well,” said my father, grinning broadly and hefting the sack, “they say it’s the only way to fly.”

  Dear Journal,

  I am not an Attractor—not an Attractor—not an Attractor—not an Attractor—NOT…

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dr. DeCharmer came and went. He spent an excessive amount of time studying the soles of my feet, the bumps on my head, the retinas of my eyes, and both elbows while looking for signs. Signs that said I might be an Attractor. Gag me with an eye of newt.

  “Inconclusive,” he told my anxious mother after the exam. “I’ll have to analyze these tests and consult with my colleagues. I’ll send word in a few weeks.”