“Antlers?” she said, holding out three sets. “Team UDM!”
Marigold took a pair and put them on.
But Willa plucked them straight off Marigold’s head! Refusing to meet Nory’s gaze, she said, “Bing Day is not about antlers.”
“Oh, come on,” said Nory. “Antlers are cute! And festive. It’s a way to show class spirit!”
“All of us UDM kids are meeting at the big clock,” said Elliott. He didn’t look at Nory, either. He kicked at the floor with the toe of his sneaker. “We’ll be together anyhow.”
“Yeah, but with antlers, everyone will know we’re together,” said Nory. She eyeballed Marigold. “You in?”
Marigold shrugged. “I don’t know. I agree that they’re cute.”
“That’s because you’re not from Dunwiddle!” snapped Willa.
“Actually, I am from Dunwiddle now,” said Marigold. “I mean, this is where my life is. And Nory’s life, too. And Bax’s.”
“But it’s not a silly-hat type of parade!” Willa argued. “It’s a ye olde parade to celebrate Zeponiah Bing. It’s historical. If you wear antlers, people will think you’re weird.”
“So?” Nory said. “Weird is good!”
Color rose in Willa’s cheeks. “Not everyone likes looking silly. Antlers make some people feel really awkward, Nory!”
“Take the antlers,” Nory said to Elliott.
He tucked his hands into his pockets.
“Seriously?” Nory said. “You’re going to let Willa boss you around?”
“Don’t let Nory boss you around!” Willa cried.
Nory waggled the antlers in Elliott’s face. “Take! The adorable! Antlers!”
The air hummed.
Would he or wouldn’t he?
“We can’t win no matter what we do,” Marigold told Elliott.
Elliott nodded. “You’re right. But I have an idea.” He took hold of Nory’s arm with one hand and grabbed Willa with the other.
“Walk,” he commanded. “Marigold, you come, too.”
What? Was Elliott bossing them around now?
The four of them strode down the hall to the supply closet, a small room filled with brooms, extra light bulbs, pet food for the Fuzzy lab, and cardboard boxes. Sometimes Nory hid out in the supply closet with Pepper. It was tiny, but cozy.
Elliott opened the door. “Nory, Willa, please go in.”
“No way. I don’t want her in my closet,” said Nory, scowling at Willa.
Willa snorted. “It’s not your closet. It’s the janitor’s!”
Elliott groaned. “It’s Bing Day. Will you please just go in?”
“I don’t see what Bing Day has to do with it,” said Nory. But she didn’t want to make Elliott even angrier, so she stepped in and turned on the light.
With a dramatic sigh, Willa followed.
Elliott slammed the door on both of them.
What? Nory couldn’t believe it. Had Elliott and Marigold trapped them in the supply closet? Just the two of them?!
“I’m sick of this war between you two!” yelled Elliott through the door. “Marigold’s sick of it, too!”
“Yeah!” yelled Marigold. “You’re making things bad for the whole UDM class!”
“Me?” Nory protested. “I love our class!”
“You sure don’t act like it,” Willa snapped.
“You’re the one who rained on me in the middle of a field trip!” Nory cried. “You’re the one who won’t show antler spirit!”
“Figure it out, both of you!” yelled Elliott.
“Are you locking us in?!” Nory cried, her voice rising at the end.
“No, the door’s not locked, but don’t come out until you make up and end your fight. If you can’t be friends, figure out how to be friendly. Otherwise no one in our class will speak to either of you and you can forget joining us at the parade.”
There was the receding sound of footsteps.
“They’re gone,” Willa said in disbelief.
“They can’t be.”
“They are.” Willa’s face crumpled. “I can’t believe they shut us in the closet.”
Water started pouring from the ceiling.
Not a nice, light drizzle of water.
Not even full-on rainy-day water.
Storm water, cascading down with the force of a raging waterfall.
Not again. “Stop!” Nory cried. “That’s a really hard rain!”
Willa’s hair was plastered to her face. “I can’t believe Marigold and Elliott left us here!” she moaned.
“Well, I’m getting out,” Nory said. She turned the slippery door handle—and the knob fell off in her hand.
Oh, no. Nory was horrified. “We’re stuck!” She tried to reattach the doorknob but she couldn’t. And the door wouldn’t open.
The supply closet was filling up alarmingly fast.
Water covered their ankles. Then their knees.
Some water seeped out through the crack beneath the door, but the downpour was so strong that it made little difference.
Nory pounded on the door. She flung her body at it, but it refused to budge.
Soon, both girls had to dog-paddle in order to keep their heads above the rapidly rising water.
We could drown, Nory realized. We could really and truly drown.
One glance at Willa told Nory that she was thinking the same thing.
“I would stop if I could,” Willa said, lifting her chin and desperately treading water. “I really would! I’m trying all the techniques I know, but nothing’s working! Probably because I’m so scared!”
Nory had an idea. She did!
“Don’t worry,” she told Willa. “One sec!” She screwed shut her eyes.
Squid, squid, squid, she thought. And Puppy, puppy, puppy! Come on, squippy!
Her bones rippled. Her flesh bunched up, then stretched apart.
Woof! Squippy-Nory barked. She dove beneath the water, using her strong front puppy legs to swim to the bottom of the room. She wedged one paw into the crack at the bottom of the door to brace herself, then slithered her rear squid tentacles through the crack.
Flump, flump! With her longest, stickiest tentacle, she slapped the outside of the supply closet door. She searched and flopped and stretched, until—YES! The outside doorknob! She felt it with her tentacle!
With great care, and still holding her breath, Squippy-Nory twisted the doorknob. It clicked open! She retracted her tentacle quickly as the door flew wide. Water cascaded out. Cresting the wave was Willa, waving her arms and kicking.
Floomph. Nory sucked in a big breath of air and fluxed back into her girl body.
The water puddled throughout the hall. Willa landed on the floor as if she’d been dropped.
Willa’s rain trickled to a stop. She breathed a sigh of relief.
They were really and truly okay. Willa began to laugh. “Saved by squippy!” she said. “Squippy may not look heroic, but she has tentacles of power!”
Nory laughed, too. “She squiddles on the floor and chews on people’s shoes. She climbs up people’s legs and squirts squid ink at them! But in a pinch, Squippy-Nory is on your side.”
“You held on to your human mind when it counted,” Willa told her.
“Yes, I did!” said Nory. “But also, I might have squiddled a little.”
“It happens to the best of us,” Willa said.
“Squiddle?”
“Out-of-control magic.”
Nory sighed and squeezed some water from her hair. “I guess I’ve been hard on you, huh?”
“Yeah. It just …” Willa swallowed. “It just seems like you have everything easy, and still, you pick on me. Like, you’re popular. And your magic is fun, with the flying and the Blurper Dragon. You can even do water animals! Plus you play kittenball, and you never seem scared to talk in class, and you always get Os on your math tests. I’ve seen them. It’s like everything at school goes perfectly for you, and then you’re mean to me ’cause I’m not as awes
ome as you or something. It doesn’t even make sense.”
Nory looked surprised. “Um, hello? Haven’t you heard about what I did at the Sage Academy entrance exam? I bit my own father and tried to eat a unicorn. Plus I almost set the place on fire. I don’t even get to live with my dad and my siblings anymore. You have these smiley parents and fancy art supplies and these lunches that look like they came from a restaurant.”
“Any flunking you did was a long time ago,” said Willa. “Now you’re like super-student! I bet you got all Os.”
Nory smiled to herself. “I did get all Os.”
“See? I’ve never, ever gotten an O,” Willa said. “Not one. And I can’t blame Ms. Starr. I don’t finish my homework! I start and do some of it but then … I just stop. Or I finish my homework and I don’t bring it in. I took notes for our project, you know. And I printed out research from my dad’s computer. And I practiced drawing polar bears. I just never showed any of it to you because I thought you’d be all critical.”
Nory shook her head. “I thought you weren’t doing anything.”
“I know. I just … I felt, like, private about it,” Willa said. “With you being so perfect at school and all.”
“I don’t feel perfect,” Nory said. “I just want to do a good job and make my dad proud, so it matters to me.” She shrugged. “I’ve definitely been pushy.”
“Just a little,” Willa said. She gave Nory a tiny push.
Nory gave Willa a tiny push back, and chuckled.
They sat in the enormous puddle in the hallway, and their chuckling got louder and louder, until the the chuckles became giddy, uncontrollable, we-almost-died-but-then-we-didn’t laughter.
Willa felt as if a weight had been lifted from her.
They were all right, the two of them. She and Nory would probably never be best friends, but Willa could tell that the war was over.
“I’m sorry, Nory,” she said. “Thanks for saving us.”
“You’re welcome,” said Nory. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you so much.”
Willa suddenly wanted Nory’s opinion. She bit her lip. “Hey, do you know what Marigold thinks?”
“About what?”
“About me. She thinks I have water magic.”
“Huh?”
“She thinks I’m not an Upside-Down Flare at all. And that there might be more than five Fs. She says she has shrinking magic, and that maybe I have water magic.” Willa hesitated. “I don’t know about Elliott. Maybe he’s a double talent? A weak Flare and a strong Freezer? Or maybe Elliott and I are both … well … Fluids?”
Nory cocked her head.
“Or maybe not,” Willa said, worried that bringing up Elliott had hurt their truce.
But Nory nodded. “It makes a lot of sense!”
“It does?”
“My father wouldn’t like it, but I think it’s possible. I mean, maybe magic is more complicated than the five Fs.”
Willa nodded. “Yeah, I think it is.”
Nory stood up. “Let’s change into dry clothes. The parade’s about to start.”
Willa stood, too. She spotted Nory’s wet and droopy antlers, which were lying in the enormous puddle. “Let’s dry these off with the hand dryer in the bathroom. The ones in your bag, too.”
Nory grinned. “You mean you’ll wear them? For real?”
“For real,” said Willa. “You were right. The UDM class should stick together.”
The center of town was crowded, but Nory knew where to go. She took hold of Willa’s backpack strap and pulled her toward the Upside-Down Magic crew.
“Wowzers,” Nory said as they slipped in by the others. She took in all the people, and her mouth fell open. So many people! So many flags and pennants! So many historical costumes! “People really go all out, don’t they?”
Marigold saw her and smiled. “It’s Dunwiddle!” she exclaimed. “Of course we do!”
Nory handed out antlers to those who didn’t have them yet. Willa adjusted hers more snugly behind her ears.
“Does this mean everything’s good?” Elliott asked.
Nory linked her arm through Willa’s. “Everything’s good.”
“I hope it’s not going to rain,” Marigold said, looking at the darkening sky.
“Of course it isn’t,” Elliott said. “It never rains on Bing Day!”
Still, Nory felt a flutter of unease as she looked at the weather. The clouds were dark gray—no, they were almost black. She shivered and buttoned her coat.
“The parade is starting!” Bax cried.
First came the marching band. They played trumpets, trombones, and low burping tubas. The band members were dressed in ye olde costumes of 1893, complete with tassels, epaulets, and conical hats.
Next came a float showing landmarks of the town of Dunwiddle.
Then the mayor drove by in an old-fashioned black car with round headlights.
Then a bunch of other old people, driving more old-fashioned cars.
Then some bagpipers in kilts. Why? Nory didn’t know.
Then came a troupe of folk dancers wearing clogs and sashes. Then a float that showed the town of Dunwiddle buried in snow.
This parade was nothing like the summer parades back in Nutmeg, where Nory used to live. But Nory loved it anyway.
Andres floated above the others like a balloon, his leash gripped tightly by his sister, Carmen. Aunt Margo and several other Flyers watched the parade from high up. Elliott’s dad had Elliott’s little brother on his shoulders. Pepper’s brothers were jumping and clapping. Bax’s mom was there. Marigold’s grandparents watched from a bench several yards back, and so did Sebastian’s family.
Willa’s family showed up a little later—the Ingeborg parents plus a tall blond girl Nory figured must be Willa’s sister, Edith. They smiled their chilly Ingeborg smiles.
Suddenly the parade stopped. Willa nudged Nory. “They’re pausing. That means it’s time for the Bing Day Sing-Along.”
All at once, the marching band, the bagpipers, and the tambourine players began to play the same tune. It was jolly music. The whole town launched into song:
Oh, Bing, Dunwiddle loves you so!
Your sunshine power melted snow!
Clap your hands and loudly sing!
Clap your hands, now clap for Bing!
They all clapped in a rhythm. Clap clap clap clap clap clap CLAP!
Oh, Bing, Dunwiddle loves you so!
Your sunshine power melted snow!
Stomp your feet and loudly sing!
Stomp your feet, now stomp for Bing!
They all stomped in the same rhythm. Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp STOMP! It was pretty cool, a whole town singing together. Nory and Willa grinned at each other.
Oh, Bing, Dunwiddle loves you so!
Your sunshine power melted snow!
Snap your fingers, loudly sing!
Snap your—
The gray sky opened with a crash.
Lighting cracked.
Rain poured down.
So. Much. Rain.
No one had umbrellas, not even the UDM kids. After all, Willa didn’t rain outdoors, and it never, ever rained on Bing Day. That meant that all of the people who believed Zeponiah Bing’s enormous Flare power kept her holiday sunny—they were wrong! It was definitely raining.
The ye olde marching band stopped playing. The bagpipers ran into one another. The tambourine players ran into the bagpipers.
The cloggers looked sad. A toddler started weeping, and two more joined in. Here and there, Flares with heating magic made warm spots for people to huddle in, but everyone was still outrageously wet.
“Kids, we might have to run for cover,” Ms. Starr said.
Oh, no! Nory didn’t want to leave. It was her first Bing Day Parade!
“Can’t somebody stop it?” asked Marigold.
She looked at Willa.
Sebastian looked at Willa.
One by one, Nory saw all the UDM kids turn to look at Willa.
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“I didn’t make it rain!” Willa exclaimed.
“We know! But, Willa—you can stop it!” Nory said.
But Willa shook her head. Ms. Ingeborg shook her head. Mr. Ingeborg shook his head. Willa’s sister, Edith, said, “Willa’s magic doesn’t work that way. You guys should know that already, if you’re in her class. She can’t stop big rains. Not even when she starts them.”
But Willa had shrunk that large drizzling cloud in the museum down to a small and furiously raining one, and she had attached the small and furiously raining one to Nory. Could she do something like that here? Nory turned to her friend. “Willa, you can help!”
“Me?” Willa squeaked. “No! I can only make it rain indoors!”
“But you don’t have to make it rain. Or even stop it from raining. You just need to move the rain! Or shrink the cloud?”
“Yeah,” Elliott chimed in, understanding. “Attach it to something, like you did when you made the cloud follow me at the pool!”
“And me at the museum!” Nory said.
Willa took a step backward. “I can’t attach a giant cloud I didn’t make. I can only attach a tiny cloud that I made myself!”
Nory stepped toward her and touched Willa’s arm. “Try, Willa? Please?”
“Please?” echoed Elliott.
Nory had faith. “You can do it, Willa,” she said. “I know you can!”
Willa gulped. Everyone in the UDM class was looking at her. Nory, Marigold, Elliott … everyone!
They all wanted her to do something she couldn’t do.
There was no way she could attach a giant rain cloud to something moving.
And it wasn’t just one cloud. It was many clouds clustered together.
And there wasn’t anything to attach them to, anyway!
Willa looked at her classmates. A small voice bubbled up within her. Breathe, the voice said. Your friends believe in you.
“Come on, Willa!” said Nory. “Try it! It’s okay if you don’t succeed. But try.”
Willa closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky. She searched for the water power inside her.
She looked for the water inside her with love, instead of frustration or anger. She felt love for her classmates, for the parade, for the town of Dunwiddle. Her love for ye olde life itself, which sometimes was stormy—but today seemed shiny and beautiful.
Weather or Not Page 8
