Almost Magic

by Kathleen Bullock

  “Do I have to start over?”

  Tutor Grey looked at his fingernails. “Not if you can undo the last order you gave your wand.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I’ll show you. For simple spells that go wrong, simply turn your back, hold your wand, and say the exact words in reverse order. It’s a shortcut I invented, and it always works for me.”

  “Oh! Sounds easy enough.”

  “Try.”

  Straightening my back, I took Wanda in hand and turned around. I remembered what I’d said before, yes I did, I really did, and I repeated the words in my mind. “Separate the pizza into four equal parts.” Then I crossed my fingers and reversed them. “Parts equal four into pizza the separate.” I said this very loudly and hoped for the best. Turning around for a quick peek, I saw the pepperoni pizza whole and uncut.

  “Shall I cut it again?” I asked eagerly, still yearning for a bite. The tutor nodded.

  I recited the wedge-slicing spell correctly, and Reynard Grey and I ate pizza together and talked and laughed and told stories. He told me how he’d been a bit backward magically as a child, too. That made me feel so much better.

  I learned so much from Tutor Grey. Funny, though—he never said anything about being an Attractor, the one thing that might make me special. After we ate the pizza, I asked timidly, “Am I ever going to learn about being an Attractor?”

  He sort of frowned. “All in good time. You’re still deficient in many basics and we’re working our way up.”

  True, of course. And I wondered why I even cared. I never wanted to be an Attractor in the first place.

  My magic improved daily.

  I practiced levitating objects in my room at night until I could raise all my snow globes in the air at once. Even so, it could take me a hundred years to master all the basics I didn’t know. I didn’t mind, though—I had already learned enough to make Mom happy, and I did think Reynard liked me better than Corny.

  One day I looked up from my Spell Book to see him throw another crumpled note into the wastebasket and drop his head into his hands. I felt waves of despair roll off him.

  “Are you okay, Tutor Grey?” I asked. “Can I get you a glass of water?”

  Reynard eyed me over his shoulder. “Have you ever lost something very valuable, Apple?”

  I thought quickly. A tricky question, for I’d lost just about everything that could be lost. Hard to remember what might have been valuable. “Wanda got lost once for three whole days. That really freaked me out until Corny discovered that my father had turned her into a retractable wand and she’d been folded in my backpack the whole time.”

  Reynard’s eyes focused and he chuckled. “Yeah, that would have been freaky. Come on, Apple, it’s time to go over yesterday’s charms.”

  Corny arrived home from school and tiptoed in. “Yoo hoo, hope I’m not interrupting.” She batted her eyelashes. I noticed she was wearing her best angora sweater, a miniskirt, and knee boots. Her mane of hair was swept into a golden ponytail on one side. And her belly button showed!

  “It’s after four o’clock, Tutor,” she said sweetly. “Mom wants Appie to feed the Venus Fly Traps in the solarium. And I wondered if you’d just look over my homework with me. You’re so smart at Magic Math, and I’m such a dunce at Ordinary math!”

  Ooo, I fumed, Corny would use any excuse to get his attention. She had already won four math competitions, and her teacher was sure she’d get a scholarship to any Ordinary college in the country. In fact, in anybody’s book, Cornelia Hortense Bramblewood was a Math Wizard.

  Besides, it was Corny’s turn to feed the Venus Fly Traps.

  “Happy to oblige,” Reynard said with a huge smile. “I do have some small skill with digits. You are free to go now, Apple.”

  I ground my teeth so hard I heard something crack. Corny was going to outshine me just because she could.

  When I stooped to gather my books, I surreptitiously (meaning—sneakily) retrieved the crumpled note Reynard had dropped in the wastebasket. I had to know what made him so blue.

  I read the wrinkled note four times before I got it.

  Dearest Buttercup,

  I pine for you. I think of nothing but your heavenly aura. Without you, I feel as if I’m falling into a deep abyss. My work has suffered since you sent me away. I must leave this place and make a fresh start…

  With a twist of my heart, I realized Buttercup must be Reynard’s secret love. He wasn’t going to wait for me to grow up and marry him. I raised my eyebrows and sighed—I’d always known the truth. My disappointment eased with a further thought. At least Cornelia wouldn’t get him, either.

  That left the dreadful Buttercup. What right had she to make Reynard suffer? Buttercup, whoever she was, had better get her mind straight and make up with Reynard the Wonderful, right pronto, or I’d—I’d—Well, I didn’t know yet.

  Wait. An idea fluttered through my brain—one that didn’t require complicated magic to execute. I smoothed the crumpled note as best I could and stuffed it into an envelope. I pointed Wanda at it and whispered, “Find Reynard’s Buttercup.”

  The envelope sprouted wings and flapped out the window.

  After three weeks of tutoring, three weeks of tussling with Cornelia for Reynard’s attention, and three weeks of waiting for Dr. DeCharmer’s official diagnosis, a pronouncement from the doctor arrived by Fairy Messenger Service.

  My mother sat on the stairs and read aloud:

  My dear Magdella and Grizzwald,

  After exhaustive research and testing, and a private consultation with the great Attractor, Arthur Borden-Baadden, we’ve come to the scientific conclusion that your daughter, Apple Louise Bramblewood, is not an Attractor. We have determined that, as a condition of her budding adolescence, she is going through an unusual magical-energy-bursting stage. It is not unknown for the auras of late-blooming Wizards to “flare.” This uncontrolled and unconscious use of magical radar sometimes attracts unfortunate manifestations and occurrences. Do not despair. The news is not all bad. The undesirable effects are a temporary nuisance, not a lifelong affliction, and symptoms pass with maturity.

  Nevertheless, there are a variety of efficient spells Apple can learn to ward off the majority of these outbreaks, and stronger dis-spells for handling more persistent situations. Call my office for a complete list. Good luck. I recommend the excellent book on warding, Spirits Be Gone, by Janeworthy Deadall.

  Yours in magic,

  Dr. Cecil DeCharmer, MP (Magician Physician)

  Reynard slouched against a door frame. “I’m not overly surprised.”

  I wasn’t either. It never made sense that, if there was an Attractor in the family, it would be me.

  Magdella clutched the paper and said nothing. I leaned over her shoulder. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

  Mom’s brow furrowed. “It means—I think it means you are going through a freaky spell of magical puberty, and we’d better learn to live with it. Frankly, I don’t know what to make of this diagnosis. I’d like a second opinion.”

  “To be honest, Maggie—” The tutor moved against the banister. “I’ve been dubious about Apple being a genuine Attractor for a while now. Her symptoms are not that rare. Adolescent witches often attract unusual, shall we say, elements, before they mature.”

  I threw up my arms. “Let me get this straight—I’m not an Attractor, but I attract ‘elements’ with my hormones?”

  Reynard hesitated. “I will admit, I’ve been going through an unusually low period in my life, and at first I was strongly attracted—compelled actually—to this place for an unknown reason. As an educator, it seemed reasonable to use my own melancholia as a test case. Well, the weeks went by and nothing happened. It got worse, in fact. A genuine Attractor would have—well, never mind, I am resigned to living life without…” He stopped in mid-sentence. His shoulders drooped.

  My recently inflated sense of self-worth crumbled as the one thing tha
t made me more special than Cornelia slipped irretrievably away. Not that I actually wanted to spend the rest of my life solving the problems of these other “elements” when I had so many problems of my own.

  The chimes at the front door resounded through the house. Hooray, a distraction. I jumped to answer them.

  A drab young woman stood on the porch. Her mousy hair was lank, her red-rimmed eyes blinked behind thick lenses, and she looked as pale as a spirit from the Otherworld.

  I gulped and tried not to stare. “May I help you?”

  “I’m so sorry to bother, but I’m looking for Reynard Grey.” The woman adjusted her glasses. “Is he here?”

  I never had a chance to answer. At the sound of her voice, Reynard rushed to the door. “Buttercup, is that you?’

  The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed and smudged with inexpertly applied mascara. “I was wrong to send you away, Rey. Life is meaningless without you. If you hadn’t sent for me, I never—never…” Buttercup burst into tears. It wasn’t an attractive look for her.

  My Tutor swept her into his arms and planted a kiss on her thin lips. “I thought you were gone forever! You were so adamant about our differences. My heart broke when we parted. Oh, darling! It’s magical to see you.”

  I felt my jaw drop in disbelief when I saw the wadded paper in the woman’s hand. This couldn’t be Reynard’s actual girlfriend. Not in a million, trillion years. She was so…so plain, and he was so beautiful.

  Reynard held the woman’s elbow and introduced her as Buttercup Meadows, his fiancée. He never took his eyes off her face, nor let go of her arm.

  “Magdella,” he said. “I assume you won’t need me now. In fact, I had already decided to accept a job in the Brazilian rainforest as an apprentice to a witch doctor. But now that Buttercup is back—”

  He stopped abruptly and stared at me. My whole body blushed.

  “Now that Buttercup is back, my problem is solved.” He slapped his forehead. “Oh, my stars! Apple? Did you do this?”

  “First, tell me if I’m in trouble.” Everyone stared at me. “I really didn’t do anything,” I insisted, avoiding all the eyes. “I just saw the letter and, and we-ell… You were unhappy, so I sent it.”

  I wanted to see Reynard happy, even if it meant getting back with his old girlfriend. The gorgeous girl I’d pictured was nothing like Buttercup. Wouldn’t Cornelia be furious!

  Reynard Grey continued to stare at me, but addressed my mother. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hasty about Apple’s diagnosis. I’ll come back for another review after my honeymoon.”

  That night, Cornelia lay on her bed and stared at the dark ceiling. I could almost hear the gears turning inside her head. Corny hadn’t taken the news of Reynard Grey’s betrothal and sudden departure well at all.

  “She must have used a powerful love charm,” Corny murmured. “Powerful. That’s the only explanation.”

  “Buttercup Meadows is not magical. She’s an Ordinary.” I hated to disillusion her, but someone had to do it.

  “No way.”

  “Mother says love is blind, and I guess that must be true.”

  Corny pulled the covers over her head and said nothing more.

  Okay, Journal, I may not be an actual Attractor, but then again, the jury is still out. Having Reynard Grey around wasn’t a waste of time at all. I learned a lot. He told me that if I ever did figure out how I reversed the dreaded pimple spell, I’d be halfway to greatness. I sort of have an inkling how it happened, and I’m happy to settle for halfway any day.

  I also learned that love might be blind—but it’s crazy beautiful, too.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  One day in mid-July, my dad decided it was time for the family to take the promised vacation on Stella’s Paradiso Island.

  I spent a happy week there exploring every part of the beautiful island, swimming in the ocean, and lying under the stars at night, sometimes wondering which one was home to Phil the Alien and the Mighty Apex.

  The day before we left for home, I had one last intriguing spot to explore—a hole in the earth with a twinkle at the bottom. I spent some time wondering how to get down there, but needn’t have bothered. It wasn’t long before I slipped and found myself headfirst down the opening.

  “Hold my ankles, Corny! Please! There’s something shiny down here,” I hollered, clamping my toes over the rim of a narrow chute that ended in a tiny cavity.

  I wiggled my fingers and stretched. “I can…almost… reach.”

  My sister grunted and gripped my ankles. “Just hurry. You’re heavier than you think and I’m not interested in spending my last day here rescuing you from yet another misadventure.”

  “Don’t let go!” I shouted, and then struggled to pull Wanda out of my back pocket. “Shine a little light,” I ordered.

  The beam she flashed was thin enough to be insulting. It wasn’t even wide enough to find a lima bean. “Lantern-mode!” I groused, remembering Tutor Grey’s advice not to let Wanda choose my magical outcomes. Wanda had taken my demotion from Attractor to Untalented Loser hard, as expected. Nevertheless, she surrendered to my request. Suddenly the claustrophobic space lit up like a Christmas tree.

  I held her between my teeth and used both hands to brush sand from the shiny object. It seemed to be an enormous polished rock, the biggest one I’d ever seen.

  “Hurry,” Cornelia hollered. “I’m going to count to ten and pull you out, ready or not.”

  I dug furiously around the edges, not an easy thing to do while hanging upside-down with an impatient sister fuming at the one end and a grumpy wand at the other. “Just…a doggone…second.” I finally managed a tight grip on the circular object. “Okay, haul me out.”

  Cornelia’s sharp tug dragged me up and I landed face down in the sand. I spat grit and stared at my prize. It glowed like mother-of-pearl in iridescent swirls of sea-foam green, twilight blue, and violet. And it was huge.

  Corny tossed a lock of sun-bleached hair out of her eyes and measured it with her hands. “Must be eighteen inches in diameter. Not like a rock at all. More like an odd sort of egg. Petrified, I’d say.”

  “An egg? What kind of an animal lays a round egg like this?”

  “A big one,” Cornelia said sarcastically, yet she seemed stumped for once. “If I had my computer, I’d look it up.” She stood and brushed sand off her knees. “We’re going home tomorrow; we can look it up then. Right now, I’m headed for one last swim.” She hopped away over the burning sand and plunged into the glorious blue sea.

  I fell on my back in the sand and flopped an arm over my discovery. The rock, or petrified egg as the case might be, was beautiful and I planned to keep it. It was going to make a wonderful souvenir.

  Dear Journal,

  After spending time on an invisible Caribbean island, Trickle Creek seems more boring than ever. I agonize over the hours I spend studying while Cornelia gets to work as a camp counselor at Lake Thistlebottom. Corny is so lucky! Every day she swims and rides and rows and makes interesting things out of beads and leather, while I do mind-numbing lessons with Mother each morning. Naturally, Mom makes sure to keep me busy every afternoon as well.

  I still have to pass the state’s required academic achievement test for middle school! I also have one magical spell to perfect! The first is a requirement for incoming students who have been home-schooled. The second—well, need I say?

  As much as I long to go to the Ordinary school, it kills me to waste so much precious daylight hunched over workbooks. As my favorite storybook heroine, Crystaleen, Witch Detective, would say, the perfume of freedom mocked me from outside my schoolroom prison window.

  When I have any free time at all, I like to visit my father in his magical workshop. Lately, though, that’s been closed off to me too. Dad’s been so engrossed by a new secret invention that he hardly notices me at all. As for Mom, I steer clear of her when I’m able. Magdella has never given up hope that I will turn out to be a real Attractor and not a hormonally imbala
nced teenager.

  Some days I have nothing better to do than sit in my room and polish my mysterious island treasure. I love my discovery and fought hard to keep it. Dad didn’t want the family to take anything away from Stella’s Island, and a two-foot-tall glow-in-the-dark object is definitely something. But I begged and pleaded and he finally gave in.

  I keep it on the same nightstand where the philodendron who turned into an alien sat. Sometimes when I touch the rock/egg/thing, a warm tingle pulses through my fingers. I wonder what kind of egg it is.

  One afternoon, I held the rock up by a sunny window and saw a blobby image silhouetted inside. A bird, maybe? I didn’t much care—if there was a chance it might be alive, I wanted it. Gently, I pressed an ear to the surface. Was that a faint heartbeat I heard? Or just the pulsing of my own excited blood? I began to hope against hope that I wasn’t just imagining things.

  The thought energized me. If it was alive, how would I keep the egg warm enough to hatch? Magic? Ha! That was a laugh. Another, more accomplished witch, would not hesitate to use magic, but I wanted a LIVING creature.

  I couldn’t put it in the oven; someone might roast it to death by accident. What about warm water—a huge pot, barely simmering? But there was no way to tell if the creature was aquatic. I couldn’t take a chance on drowning the little thing.

  In the end, I settled for wrapping it in an electric blanket and stuffing it into Great-Aunt Wisteria’s cedar chest under the window. The prospect of future foster-motherhood rolled happily through my mind. Of course, the thing might never hatch—it might be well and truly petrified, as Corny had said.

  I’d have to wait and see.

  As the sluggish summer days passed, I tried to keep my mind off the incubating egg by reading the latest adventures of Crystaleen, Witch Detective. I had read up to chapter seventeen in Book Seven, The Runes of Castle Morhn, when Corny came home from camp in a black mood.