by Ahmet Zappa
“Where are we from?” Good question, thought Scarlet as her mind suddenly went blank. She tried to remember some of the names of places she’d learned in Wishworld Relations, names she’d imagined using on missions just like this hydrongs and hydrong of times….
“Orion!” Ophelia blurted, lifting her chin and looking proud.
“Orion? Where is that?” asked the girl.
“It’s just up there in the—”
Scarlet pulled Ophelia’s arm down from above her head and put her other hand over Ophelia’s startled mouth. “Did you think she said Orion? She said Ohio!” Scarlet laughed.
“Oh.” The girl nodded, then grinned with a friendly shrug. “Well, welcome to Florida, I guess. I’m Arden. Nice to meet you.”
“Hi. I’m Scarlet, and this is Ophelia. Nice to meet you, too,” Scarlet replied before Ophelia could speak. She wasn’t quite sure how Ophelia would have answered that introduction. She only knew somehow it would have been wrong.
“If you like, I could show you around,” Arden offered.
“Really? That would be startastic!” exclaimed Ophelia.
Scarlet swallowed a groan and closed her eyes.
“Would you excuse us for just a minute?” Scarlet asked the girl, who shrugged.
Scarlet dragged Ophelia away from Arden by her backpack. “Ophelia!” she muttered. “You have to stop saying things like ‘startastic’ and ‘star greetings.’ Those are Starland phrases. Wishlings say things like ‘awesome’ and ‘sick.’ It’s one of the first things we learned. Remember? Back in Wishers 101. What have you been learning at Starling Academy, anyway?”
“Star apologies…” mumbled Ophelia. “I guess I just forgot.”
“Well, start remembering!” hissed Scarlet. “Or better yet, don’t say anything else. Just let me do the talking. Okay? You worry about focusing all your energy on granting Arden’s wish.” She quickly checked her Star-Zap. “This clock is counting down very fast!”
“Yes. Okay.” Ophelia nodded, and Scarlet hoped she understood. Scarlet wasn’t sure how she’d gone from thinking it might be all right if Ophelia failed to being determined to see her succeed. It was almost as if she had no choice but to make the mission work.
“Is everything okay?” Arden asked when Scarlet and Ophelia returned.
“Everything is great.”
“So, what do you think? Do you want to hang out? Do you want me to show you around? What haven’t you seen yet?” asked Arden. “I know it’s a pretty small town, but we have a really nice park. It’s kind of famous for its butterfly attraction…er, um…but we can skip that part. It’s not really all that great.”
“Thanks,” said Scarlet. “That sounds really nice. Really, it does. But…”
“But what?” Arden asked.
Scarlet tried to assume the expression she’d seen the other girls give Arden before—the one that seemed to say, “I feel so sorry for you, poor girl.”
“You probably have to go straight home,” said Scarlet.
“No,” said Arden. “Not really.” She smiled and shook her head. “I mean, I have to go home eventually, but later on—by dinnertime—not, like, right away.”
Scarlet was confused and could tell that her face showed it. “Are you sure? I’d hate for you to get in trouble with your stepmother.”
“How did you know I have a stepmother?”
“Er…I guessed, I guess?”
“Wow. Good guess,” said Arden, who looked surprised but not upset.
“You probably wish you didn’t have one,” Scarlet went on, nodding. “Or at least that she wasn’t so mean.” She snuck a wink at Ophelia, then watched as Arden’s expression slowly changed.
“No, my stepmother’s great. She’s not at all mean. In fact—don’t tell my mom this—but she’s nicer than her sometimes.”
Now it was Scarlet’s turn to flip expressions. “But doesn’t she make you stay home? And do all the chores? You know, and work all day and night?”
Arden’s nose wrinkled and she started to giggle. “What are you talking about?” She looked down at her red ruffled skirt and sleeveless yellow tee. “Do I look like Cinderella? The only chores my stepmom makes me do are the dishes, sometimes, and make my bed…not that I ever do.”
“But…”
Arden waited for Scarlet to finish, but Scarlet wasn’t sure how to go on. Why had this Wishling told those others that she had a mean stepmother if she didn’t? And most important, what was her wish, then? To have a mean stepmother? No, of course not. Why would any Wishling want that?
So then what could it be? Scarlet tried to think. She glanced at Ophelia, who was blank-faced, clearly trying to catch up. She wasn’t going to be much help in figuring this out; Scarlet could tell from her frown. Then something else that Scarlet had heard before suddenly popped into her head—something about doctors’ appointments….
Of course! That had to be it!
There were no doctors on Starland, of course. There simply was no need. All the positive wish energy on Starland kept Starlings healthy throughout their Cycle of Life, until they began their afterglow. But Scarlet had learned in school about Wishworld doctors and all they did for Wishlings whenever they got sick. She’d also learned about the kinds of wishes that Wishlings often made when doctors couldn’t help. Of course, those were impossible wishes, and maybe that was why Ophelia was having so much trouble. But Scarlet was sure they could help her make a more appropriate one.
“You’re not well, are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re sick. Well, don’t worry. We’ll find a way…”
“But I’m not sick. I’m fine. Really. Why?” the girl asked, touching her cheeks. “Do I look bad or something?”
“No, no. You look good. It’s not that,” Scarlet said. What could she say now? If the Wisher wasn’t sick and her stepmother wasn’t mean, what wishes were left? Had she also said something about a piano recital?
Or…could it be that she wasn’t their Wisher at all?
What a starmendous waste of time!
Scarlet looked down to check her Wish Pendant. It was still glowing…which was odd. But it wasn’t like this was her mission, so maybe it didn’t mean anything.
“Omigosh,” the girl said suddenly, as if a holo-text had just come through. “I get it.” She turned to Ophelia. “You must have heard me talking to Chloe and Sydney.”
Ophelia’s cheeks filled like balloons as she worked to keep the words in.
“Yeah,” Arden went on, not needing a reply. “Some of those things I said back there…they weren’t exactly true.”
“But why?” Ophelia blurted. “It sounded like they needed your help.”
That was actually a good question, Scarlet thought, so that time she let it go.
“Oh…it’s complicated,” said Arden. She sighed and looked away.
“They’re mean girls,” said Scarlet knowingly. It was a common basis for wishes, unfortunately, but those weren’t too hard to grant.
“No,” said Arden. “They’re fine. They’re really nice and fun. And I want to be their friend. That’s why I wanted to be in their lab group for this science project.”
“Oh,” Scarlet said, confused. Was this something Wishlings often did, she wondered—fail to make any sense?
“I didn’t know they’d want to study butterflies….” As she said that, Arden winced.
“What’s wrong with butterflies?” said Scarlet.
“Are you afraid of them?” Ophelia asked.
Scarlet turned to Ophelia and did all she could not to roll her eyes. “Of course she’s not afraid of butterflies!” she muttered. Could a Starling be more dim?
“I know,” said Arden. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? But I can’t help it. Do you know, I can’t even look at pictures of butterflies without wanting to throw up? I tried to suggest other topics, but they were so into the idea. And they’d already ordered the caterpillar kit and everything. There was nothing I coul
d say or do. Their minds were totally set.”
“Did you tell them you were scared?” asked Scarlet. That seemed easy enough to do.
Arden nodded. “I tried to. But they thought it was a joke. They just laughed and said stuff like ‘Can you imagine? Afraid of butterflies!’”
“So…they are mean,” said Scarlet.
“No, they weren’t being mean at all. They thought I was being funny. They thought it had to be a joke.” Arden kicked a rock and sent it bouncing off the curb and into the street. “I guess I could have told them I was serious…except then, instead of laughing at the idea, they would have laughed at me.”
“So what are you going to do?” Scarlet asked. She reached for Ophelia and pulled her near. She could sense a wish a breath away and wanted to make sure Ophelia heard it.
“What I’ve been doing, I guess: making up excuses to stay away. So I’ll get an F on the project and Chloe and Sydney will never talk to me again. But what else can I do? I wish I wasn’t afraid of butterflies…but we all know wishing doesn’t help.” She took a few steps away to kick another rock while Scarlet hung back and pumped her fist.
Yes! she thought as a sharp but not unpleasant jolt ran up and down her spine.
Scarlet turned to wink at Ophelia, but Ophelia’s eyes were on the ground.
“Ophelia!” Scarlet nudged her with an elbow. “Your Wisher just voiced her wish! She doesn’t want to be afraid of butterflies!” she hissed.
“Really? Oh! Sorry,” Ophelia said. She glanced over her shoulder at Arden. “What do I do now? Oh…and what are butterflies? Are they, like, wings or something you can put on toasted Wishling bread?”
After a quick explanation of what butterflies were (“They’re basically like flutterfocuses, only they don’t change color or light up.”), Scarlet told Ophelia her plan.
“It’s easy. We learned about these kinds of fear wishes in Wish Fulfillment, remember? No? Right. Of course you don’t. Never mind. Basically, we have to get her to talk more about her fear and where it comes from. Then we have to reassure her that butterflies mean her no harm. Then we need to introduce her to butterflies. It’s supposed to be little by little…but of course we don’t have a lot of time. Luckily, there’s that butterfly attraction she talked about—which is perfect! We just take her there! Zap! Done!”
“Talk, reassure, introduce,” said Ophelia. She nodded so her pigtails bounced like springs. “Star salutations, Scarlet. I’ll try. I really will.” Ophelia’s chin was trembling, but she managed a smile. And somehow, before Scarlet could help herself, she was returning a grin.
Scarlet could feel it inside her….Ew! Something was warming up and softening, like stars melting into thick molten glass. Scarlet tried to will it all back into sharp jagged crystals, but no—it was too late.
It was easy to be mad at Ophelia for taking her place, and even easier to scold her for making so many mistakes. And yet this whole situation wasn’t Ophelia’s fault any more than it was Scarlet’s. The most important thing, whether Scarlet liked it or not, was to help Ophelia as much as she could to make Arden’s wish come true.
“No,” Scarlet told Ophelia sternly. “You’re a Star Darling. You need to do more than try. You need to grant this wish. So go!” She pointed to Arden, who was walking away. “What are you waiting for?”
They caught up to Arden at the corner. She grinned at them warily. “So now you know my secret. You probably think I’m super weird.”
“What are you talking about?” said Scarlet. “Everyone’s scared of something. Take Ophelia here.” She shot a quick nod at her partner.
“Me? Oh, yes! Me! I’m afraid of everything!” Ophelia said. “Black holes…asteroids…gamma radiation…and even those energy bunnies that collect under the bed.”
Scarlet and Arden both stared at her, speechless.
“Anyway,” Scarlet said. “Being scared is nothing to be ashamed of. But it is something you can try to change.”
“How?”
“Why don’t we go to that park you were talking about,” said Scarlet, “and talk about it there?”
The park was a short walk from the school, away from downtown. A dark metal arch marked the entrance at a corner where two roads crossed.
“Wait!” Arden grabbed Scarlet’s and Ophelia’s arms as they reached the corner across from it, just before they stepped off the curb. She pointed to the palm scanner across the street and the big bright red hand that was flashing at them.
“Right. The palm scanners,” said Ophelia. “But I couldn’t reach it. Can you?”
She started to jump as she’d done before in town, to reach the box above them. Scarlet almost joined her. But then she saw Arden laughing—not meanly, just as if they were all in on a joke. Clearly, Ophelia was way off. That wasn’t a palm scanner at all. But if Ophelia was helping lift Arden’s mood, why not play along?
“Very funny,” said Scarlet. She chuckled and grabbed for Ophelia’s arm. Just then, the hand stopped blinking and began to glow a steady red. As it did, a car whizzed past them, followed by another and more after that.
Scarlet watched Arden press a button on the side of the post on their corner, then read the small sign next to it: PUSH BUTTON TO WALK. A moogle later, the hand disappeared and was replaced by a white symbol of a walking man.
“Are you coming?” said Arden as she stepped off the sidewalk and into the street. “The light’s going to change back if we don’t hurry up.”
“So…it’s not a palm scanner?” Ophelia whispered to Scarlet as they followed. “I’m sorry. I messed up again.”
“Hey, she’s smiling,” said Scarlet, nodding ahead. “I think you might actually have done something right.”
“So this is our park,” Arden said as they walked through the arch. She lifted her arms and stretched them out to her sides, turning slightly left and right. “It’s small, but it’s pretty nice.”
It was nice, Scarlet had to agree, in an overly green Wishworld way. It was strange, and almost refreshing, to see grass so singular in color—and such straight paths that refused to move. It was actually nice to get away from all the glitter and sparkle of Starland and appreciate not just how colorful and brilliant things were but other qualities, as well. Like how the little brown creature on the branch high above them sounded, whistling its curious tune.
And the way the grass smelled. Scarlet took a deep whiff, which Arden noticed. She nodded as if she understood.
“They must have just mowed.”
Ah, thought Scarlet. So that was what that sharp tangy scent was. Scarlet didn’t even know how the grass on Starland smelled, she realized, or if it smelled at all. Starland grass always stayed the perfect length, so it never had to be cut.
Ophelia, meanwhile, was pointing at a large dull but colorful, oddly shaped structure behind a green metal fence. At the center was an elevated platform sheltered by a yellow roof. Along with a ladder, there appeared to be several other means by which to reach the platform: a winding blue ramp; a slick yellow pole; a thick knotted rope; and, last but not least, a long sloping red tube, out of which a small Wishling boy abruptly popped.
“What’s that?” Ophelia asked.
“What’s what?” Arden replied. Her eyes darted from pole to ramp to tube, not quite sure what Ophelia could mean.
Scarlet pulled Ophelia close. “It’s a playground. A Wishling playground,” she clarified. She had seen them before from the Wishworld Surveillance Deck, but Ophelia obviously had not. If she had, she would have known that Wishling playgrounds were nothing like those on Starland, with their gyro-seesaws and antigravity slides and energy trampolines. There was one apparatus Starland and Wishworld shared, however, and Scarlet pointed it out to Ophelia. “See?”
Ophelia’s eyes followed Scarlet’s away from the platform, along a track of evenly spaced metal bars to a triangular frame from which hung three rubber slings on chunky black chains.
“Lucky stars! Swings!” Ophelia exclaimed. “Can we?�
� She turned to Arden first, then Scarlet. “I love swings so much!”
“Now?” Scarlet said. “Really? We came here to talk, Ophelia, remember? Not play.”
“Star a—So sorry. Yes. Of course.”
“We could do both,” Arden said, shrugging. “I mean, why not? I haven’t been on a swing in years.” She grinned, suddenly looking happier than she had since they had met. “No one else is using them. It’ll be fun. C’mon! Let’s go!” She left Ophelia and Scarlet to follow as she headed toward the playground gate.
“Star apologies. Truly,” Ophelia murmured to Scarlet. She scrunched her freckled nose. “I didn’t mean to delay the mission further. Don’t worry. I won’t do it again.”
Ophelia dropped her backpack next to Arden’s just inside the fence.
“Oh, no…” said Scarlet, eyeing it.
“What now?” Ophelia moaned. “What did I do?”
“You lost your key chain. I don’t know what it’s for. But I’m sure we’ll find out now.” Each Star Darling had received a glittery stuffed star attached to her backpack. Wishers called them “key chains.”
“What key chain?” said Ophelia. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Didn’t you get one right before takeoff?”
“Nooo…” Ophelia said slowly. “No,” she repeated, more surely.
“Oh…” said Scarlet. “Good,” she declared. One less thing to worry about, at least.
They turned to watch Arden skip up to the middle swing and fall into the hard rubber seat with a smile.
“Well,” Scarlet whispered to Ophelia with the barest of smiles, “what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
By the time they joined Arden, the Wishling was flying back and forth, her feet nearly extending past the bar overhead.
Excited, Ophelia took the swing on Arden’s right, gripping the chains extra tight in each hand. “Wheeee!” she cried as she leaned her head back and eagerly kicked out her feet. After a moogle, however, she sat back up. “Aw…mine’s broken,” she said.
“Mine, too,” said Scarlet. It hadn’t moved a shortsnip since she’d sat down. She raised her feet once more, just to be extra sure…but no, it did not want to move.
