“What about my brother?” asked Michael, leaning over Ali’s head. “You’d better tell me where he is, or I’ll pound you into imp chips.” He stepped around Ali and grabbed the bag of potato chips, crushing it in his now-even-more-giant hand.
Pilose didn’t look fazed. “You can’t hit me,” she said. “You’ll just miss.”
Michael swung.
Pilose ducked.
“Aha!” Michael yelled. “If I was going to miss, you wouldn’t have dodged.” He picked up the end of the table and tipped it, sending the food onto the floor. “Not so magical now that you’re big, are you?”
Ringlet yelped and ran around the upturned table, smashing the refrigerator door shut as he flailed past it. He and Pilose both took off running into the living room.
“Michael, stop!” Ali got in front of him, blocking his path. “Scaring them isn’t going to help.”
“Wanna bet?” He pushed Ali aside and headed through the door—only to knock his head on the door frame and step back, cursing and holding his noggin.
The front door slammed. Apparently the imps were making a run for it.
Michael groaned and sat down heavily in the nearest chair.
“Hair,” said Molly, who was clinging to Ali’s collar.
“All right, I know,” said Ali. “But there’s something I want to check first.”
“What?” asked Michael. All the fight had gone out of him.
“The directions. They had rules back when they were Divvy-imps, and Pilose told me that the un- enslavement spell was botched—that’s why they had to eat hair. I bet they didn’t really know what was going to happen this time either. There has to be something on that magic paper that can help.”
“This house is a royal mess!” cried Bunny. She picked up a plastic pony that had been left in the middle of the living room floor.
“You knew the mayor had a child,” said Lockner, who was now the mayor’s husband, a short, squat man who had been bald to begin with. “It was a parents-replacement spell.”
Bunny shifted her long, curly red-headed wig, which made her look somewhat like Raggedy Ann. “That was the only spell in the book to make us big,” Bunny snapped. “Surely we don’t have to actually live with those brats! I’ve had enough of children for a lifetime.”
“Mommy?” A little girl stood in the doorway leading from the living room to the hall. She clutched a teddy bear and wore an adorable spring-flower nightie.
“Go back to bed!” yelled Bunny, waving her new arms awkwardly.
The girl hesitated, frozen.
“GO BACK TO BED!”
Twenty-Six
“Okay, you stupid piece of paper,” said Ali, shaking the blank, wrinkled direction sheet. “Tell us how to get our parents back.”
“Tell me where my brother is,” said Michael.
“How to make us big again and keep our hair,” said Jennifer.
“All of that,” said Ali. She slammed the paper on the desk and smoothed it out. Michael peered over her shoulder, and Jennifer, Tyler, and Molly leaned in, hanging on to her shirt.
Words appeared on the top of the paper, then disappeared before Ali could read them. Another line appeared closer to the middle, then disappeared. A line appeared at the bottom of the page, then on top. Then the whole page filled up, but the text disappeared again. Then there was a picture, too fleeting to catch.
“Slow down so we can read it!” Ali said.
Keep the fairies in the jar until steps 1–5 are done.
illness
ridicule
clumsiness
Beware the directions.
Each line popped into view, then disappeared, replaced by another.
“It’s all just stuff we’ve seen before,” said Ali.
When a child is good, you must reward.
You may punish only in proportion.
You must not leave your child.
“Whoa, this is new,” said Michael.
You may eat only human hair.
You may not harm children if you promise not to.
“These are rules for them, not us,” Jennifer said.
“So Pilose was telling the truth when she said she couldn’t hurt me if she said she wouldn’t,” said Ali.
The line disappeared. Then an entire page appeared at once.
Additional rules for imps having performed the parents-replacement spell from the Great Book of the Imps (set forth by the Great Imp himself, Impoliptus, and transcribed via permanent magical impression to all scrolls within radius of her “See!” by his sister, Sky):
You must feed your children and keep them safe.
When a child is good, you must reward.
You may punish only in proportion.
You must not leave your child.
“This sounds like the other ones . . .” said Ali.
“Which must have been from when they were Divvy-imps,” said Jennifer.
A huge grin spread across Ali’s face. “They’re not going to be happy to find out they’re still stuck with having to reward children.” She and the three tiny kids giggled.
“So what?” said Michael. “We still don’t know where Deacon is.” He shook the paper. “Tell us something we care about.”
DIRECTIONS
How to undo a replacement spell.
The words sat on the top of the page, which was otherwise blank.
“Now we’re talking,” said Jennifer.
“We can undo it later,” said Michael. “We need to find Deacon now.”
Two more lines followed, with a picture.
1. Find the two In-betweens used for the replacement spell.
2. Remove their wigs.
Everyone stared at the page, but nothing changed.
“That’s the answer?” Michael fumed. “I ask how to find them, and they tell us to find them?”
“Did Hannah lose her hair, too?” Ali asked, not expecting anyone to answer. “This is just awful.”
“Those little demons,” said Michael. “They have no right to do this. I mean, Deacon can be a jerk but, man, he’s a good brother. He looks out for me.”
“Yeah, Hannah . . .” What could Ali say about Hannah? “She offers to help me fix my hair. That’s nice.” Maybe it was nice, Ali realized. Maybe Hannah wasn’t always annoying. Maybe if the fairies took her forever, it would be really bad.
“What do they still need them for?” asked Jennifer. “The spell is done.”
“I don’t know,” said Michael. “But Deacon loves his hair. He can’t wear a wig forever!”
Ali was suddenly very tired. She sighed. “Well, if we’re supposed to find them, they must be all right, even if they’re bald. Let’s deal with it in the morning, okay?”
“I guess,” said Michael. He looked around the room as if a solution would jump out of thin air. “Hopefully they still think they’re on the beach or something.”
“Do you guys want to know how to make yourselves big?” Ali asked. “It’s not so bad having fairy hair.”
“I used my wish to be beautiful,” said Jennifer. “I’m not giving that up!”
“My hair!” Molly wailed.
“I don’t really care,” said Tyler, “but I’ll stay with Molly.” He put his arm around her, and she cried into his shoulder.
“Okay,” Ali said. “We’ll figure something else out, I promise.”
“Hair!” said Jennifer.
“Oh, have some of mine,” said Michael. He reached for the child’s scissors, which had ended up on the desk.
Ali let Jennifer, Tyler, and Molly down while Michael chopped off the ends of his new hair.
“I hope it’s all right, since it’s magic hair,” said Ali.
“If wonderful!” said Tyler. The others stuffed themselves like it was Christmas dinner. Ali grabbed a few strands and stuffed them into her mouth. She still had some caught in her throat from earlier, and adding these strings didn’t help, but she couldn’t stop herself. Now that she was big, it mig
ht be harder to eat, but it was still delicious.
Michael sat down heavily on the bed. “I don’t want to go home and see my dad taken over by some imp.”
“What about your mom?” Ali asked.
“She doesn’t live with us,” said Michael. “She’s not much of a parent, so she’s probably safe.”
Ali wanted to ask why, but she didn’t want to embarrass Michael. She was embarrassed enough that she’d listened to her mom and dad saying that Michael and Deacon were goons. Now she didn’t think Michael was a goon at all. Despite suddenly being seven feet tall, he looked younger than he had before, sitting there on the bed all slumped over.
“I guess you can sleep in my parents’ room,” she said. “I doubt Pilose and Ringlet will try to come back. You scared them pretty good.”
He looked up at her. “Thanks, Ali. You’re a nice person. I’m sorry I got you into this. I just . . . I thought maybe if I gave you my fairies you might . . .” He sighed, got up off the bed, and lumbered toward the door. “I’m just a moron.” Before Ali could say anything, he had left the room, letting the door close heavily behind him.
Ali turned around to find the three tiny kids staring at her from the desk.
“I think he likes you,” said Jennifer.
Molly giggled, a high-pitched titter. “Too bad he looks like a gorilla.”
“At least he’s not as bad as Jared,” said Jennifer.
Ali had to smile. “Compared to Jared, he’s Prince Charming.”
Outside in the tree next to Ali’s window, Jared’s face flushed red, sending unwelcome color to every boil on his abscessed skin. First Ali had lied to him, told him she’d give him her fairies and then done something else with them. Now she was making fun of him, rubbing it in. He ought to go right in there and punch her tiny-haired brains out. But apparently she and that loser Michael Landis were going to try to find someone tomorrow. Maybe they’d lead him to a fairy he could squeeze the magic out of. Silently fuming, he slithered down the tree again.
Twenty-Seven
“Why are we bothering to go to school?” Jennifer asked from her perch on Ali’s shoulder. Tyler and Molly had decided to ride in the little pocket of Ali’s backpack.
“Because all these kids have had their parents replaced,” Ali said. “Maybe someone has found out something that will help us.”
“I know where the mayor lives,” said Jennifer. “Michael can take on Bunny and Lockner all by himself. Look at how fast Pilose and Ringlet ran away. We don’t need anyone else.”
“What if Hannah and Deacon aren’t there? Don’t you think Bunny is smart enough to put them somewhere I won’t think of?”
“This is the imp that wears wrapping paper and carries a hairpin like it’s magic when she already has real magic. She doesn’t think like a person. I’ll bet she hasn’t even thought of what to do with them.”
“You’re probably right,” said Ali, “but I’m hoping someone’s seen Crista, too. I don’t care what she says, I’m going to get her turned back into herself.”
“She fed the imps her own hair,” said Jennifer.
“So?” Ali rolled her eyes. It was just a little bit of hair. How could it possibly change your species? This whole magic thing was tricky, but she had already made herself big without any help from fairies. There had to be a way out of this.
Michael loped up to them, casting off a barely burned cigarette as he came closer.
Jennifer coughed.
“Isn’t that making you choke?” Ali asked.
“Not exactly,” said Michael. “But it tasted gross. Holy crap, look at that.”
Ali followed Michael’s eyes. Kids were milling around outside the school. As soon as Ali saw them, they saw her. A whole wave of them pushed forward, and within a minute, kids were crowding around. Something was strange about them, on top of the fact that they were upset and all talking at once. The boy standing in front of Ali was waving his arms and yelling, “What have your evil fairies done? Why didn’t you stop feeding them?” He had a very lopsided haircut. One quarter of his head was bald, while the hair on the rest of his head was wildly uneven.
“Look at my hair!” a girl screamed, shaking her head. The girl had always had an even bob haircut, but now she had uneven bangs and patches cut out of odd places.
“My parents are gone!” another girl wailed.
“Where are our parents?” a boy cried. A strip in the middle of his head was buzzed.
“You kept breaking the rules,” said Natalie Buckmaster in her screechy normal speaking voice, pointing at Ali. “You couldn’t just grow your fairies and pass them on like everyone else.”
“This is not my fault!” Ali shouted over the din. “This was the fairies’ plan all along—to replace our parents. And they wouldn’t even let me pass on my fairies and get my wish. They tricked us, okay?” Her wish! She hadn’t even thought about that. Now she was never going to be a genius. That was just one more reason why she was not letting these imps get away with this.
“What about our hair?” asked the girl with the ruined bob.
Ali had a bad feeling about that. The hair she’d somehow made appear out of thin air yesterday had to have come from somewhere. But this was not the time to make a confession. She had to get everyone to help solve the problem instead of freaking out.
“Listen!” she yelled.
Everyone kept talking.
“Everybody shut up!” Michael yelled. Maybe his magic growth spurt had made his voice bigger, too, because it boomed through the crowd like a thunderclap.
Everybody shut up.
“Okay,” said Ali as loudly as she could. “It’s true, the evil fairies have replaced our parents. But our parents are fine. They’re tiny, but they don’t know anything’s wrong. They think they’re just going about their lives like normal. I found out what we have to do to get our parents back in their bodies, and it’s really simple. The fairies did a spell, and somehow, they used my sister, Hannah, and Michael’s brother, Deacon. All we have to do is find them and”—this was going to sound ridiculous, but she had to say it with confidence—“and remove their wigs!” She raised a fist in the air.
Everyone stared at her.
“Remove their wigs!” cried Jennifer.
“Remove their wigs!” cried Tyler and Molly, poking their heads out of the backpack.
“Remove their wigs!” Michael’s voice boomed.
“What is going on here?” Vice Principal Johnson pushed his way through the crowd of kids, followed by three teachers. All four of them were wild-eyed and obviously wearing wigs. They must be parents, Ali thought.
“Remove their wigs!” someone in the crowd shouted.
The kids pounced on the “teachers.”
“Where’s Mr. Johnson?”
“You stole our parents!”
“Get them!”
“Eeek!” Mr. Johnson screeched, sounding like a wounded pig. He held on to his wig and danced around, trying to avoid the reaching hands. The other “teachers” did the same, but in short order, the kids had wrenched the wigs from all four faux-teachers’ heads and pinned them to the ground.
Jonathan Yeager was sitting on Mr. Johnson’s chest and poking him in the face. “My mom gave me plain old bread for breakfast. She said I couldn’t have any Lucky Charms because they were all for her!”
“I know you,” said Mr. Johnson. “You grew me. You were my child.” Mr. Johnson’s eyes filled with water.
“You told me I’d get my wish, but you never said you were going to replace my mom and dad,” said Jonathan, poking harder. “And now nobody’s getting any more wishes? You tricked me!”
“I didn’t,” said Mr. Johnson. “I was only a baby. I didn’t do anything.” Then he really started to cry. Big tears streamed down his face.
“I don’t want to be a parent,” another teacher whined. It was the pre-algebra teacher, Mrs. Winthrop. Mrs. Winthrop was about sixty, and she was the meanest, hardest-driving teacher Ali had ever h
ad. If you spaced out when she called on you, she’d yell at you for five minutes solid. Now she was blubbering worse than Mr. Johnson. “I don’t want to teach math. I want to play Ping-Pong and eat ice cream!”
Ali hated to see them cry. They were only babies. She couldn’t forget what she’d seen inside her own mound. But this was her chance. She couldn’t let sentiment get in the way. She marched over to Mrs. Winthrop. Natalie Buckmaster was sitting on her. “Nice of you to help,” Ali said, glaring at Natalie.
“Whatever,” said Natalie. She got up and walked off.
Ali took Natalie’s place. “What’s your real name?” she asked.
“Bleachie,” Mrs. Winthrop sniffed.
Ali tried not to roll her eyes. “Okay, Bleachie,” she said in her best nice voice. “You don’t want to be an adult, do you?”
“No,” Bleachie wailed.
“Well, I bet Mrs. Winthrop doesn’t want to be an imp. Why don’t you tell me where my sister, Hannah, is? That way you won’t ever have to teach math again.”
“Don’t tell her!” Mr. Johnson screamed. “The Grand Miss will take away our candy! She’ll make us eat hair again!”
“I don’t want to eat hair,” said Bleachie, sobbing.
“Shh . . .” Ali sighed. “No one’s going to make you eat hair. But if you stay in Mrs. Winthrop’s body, you’ll have to work every day. Mrs. Winthrop’s kids are in college. She has to work hard to pay for all that tuition. You don’t want to work hard, do you?”
“No,” said Bleachie. She sniffed and her chest heaved, but she had stopped sobbing. “I want to eat candy and have birthday parties.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Ali. “If you tell me where my sister is, I’ll have a birthday party just for you. We’ll have cake and presents and everything. How does that sound?”
Evil Fairies Love Hair Page 14
