by Kiki Thorpe
Herk’s glow turned orange as he blushed. “I—I guess so,” he stammered.
“Well, then!” said Tink. “We’d better teach you how to dance!”
One hour—and many more bruises—later, Tink had finally managed to teach Herk the first few steps of the fairy pinwheel.
“Now promise me you’ll practice,” Tink said when their lesson was over.
Herk blushed orange again. Then he thanked Tink for her help.
As Tink flew back toward the Home Tree, she congratulated herself. How glad Rosetta will be when she sees that Herk is fixed. Another job well done!
TINK WHISTLED HAPPILY as she landed in the Home Tree courtyard.
She looked around and sighed with contentment. “What a perfect day!” she said.
Tink spotted her friend Fawn, an animal-talent fairy. Fawn was on her way somewhere. Probably going to visit her critter friends, Tink thought. Fawn loved to play with the woodland creatures.
As Fawn zoomed past, Tink caught a whiff of badger.
“Phew!” said Tink, pinching her nose. “Fawn should do something about that smell!”
Across the courtyard was Bess. Tink waved to her art-talent friend. Bess had orange paint on her clothes, green paint in her hair, and a big blob of blue paint on the tip of her nose.
“What a mess!” Tink said to herself. Everywhere she looked, she saw fairies in need of fixing.
“Fly with you, Tink!” said a voice next to her.
Tink turned and saw her friend Rani. She was sitting on a toadstool in the courtyard. Rani was a water-talent fairy. She had long, rippling hair and ocean-blue eyes, which at the moment were full of tears.
“Rani, what’s wrong?” Tink asked.
“I’m just happy to see you!” Rani gave Tink a quick hug, and her tears spilled onto Tink’s shoulder. As a water-talent fairy, Rani cried easily.
A bit too easily, Tink thought with a little frown. Rani was one of the kindest fairies she knew. But she was so weepy! If only I could fix her. And suddenly Tink thought of a way.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Rani asked.
“Rani, come to my workshop in one hour!” Tink said excitedly. “And bring Fawn and Bess, too. I’ll have something exciting for all of you.”
“Why?” asked Rani. “What is it?”
“You’ll see,” Tink said. “I’m going to fix everything!”
Tink darted back to her workshop and set to work. By the time Rani, Fawn, and Bess arrived, she had everything ready.
“Come in! Come in!” Tink beckoned her friends inside. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve solved all your problems!”
“What problems?” asked Bess.
Tink didn’t hear her. “Rani, these are for you,” she said. She plucked a pair of goggles off her worktable and handed them to her friend. “Put them on.”
Rani slipped the goggles over her head. The frames were made of copper wire. They had little bits of sea sponge attached to the bottom.
“How do I look?” Rani asked.
Fawn snorted. “Silly.”
“They might not be pretty,” Tink admitted. “But they serve a very useful purpose.”
“What purpose?” asked Bess.
“They soak up tears!” Tink exclaimed. “Whenever you feel like crying, Rani, just put these goggles on, and ta-da! No more tears!”
Rani’s forehead wrinkled. “You don’t like tears?”
“Well, they are rather wet,” replied Tink.
Rani blinked, and a few teardrops fell onto the sponges. Her feelings were hurt. But Tink was too caught up in her invention to notice.
“You see? They work!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, they do,” Rani sniffled, and she hurried out the door.
“Don’t forget—let them dry out between cries!” Tink called after her. She turned to find Fawn and Bess frowning at her. “What?”
“I like Rani’s tears,” said Fawn.
“They’re part of what makes her Rani,” Bess agreed.
Tink waved a hand. “She’s still the same old Rani—just a little less damp! Now, for you, Fawn, I have something special. I know how much you love spending time with animals.”
Fawn grinned. “And they love spending time with me.”
Tink nodded. “Which is why I came up with this.” She picked up a belt. A small glass bottle was attached to it. Tink fastened it around Fawn’s waist.
“After every visit with a badger or a skunk, you just push this button.” Tink pressed a little button on the belt. A misty cloud of sweet perfume sprayed out from the bottle. It settled over Fawn.
“Yech!” Fawn tried to wave the perfume away. “Why did you do that?”
“To fix the animal smell, of course,” Tink explained. “Hold still, Fawn, or it won’t work.” She pressed the button again. More mist shot out.
“Stop! Stop!” Fawn shrieked.
“Now she smells like honeysuckle and badger,” Bess noted, holding her nose.
“One more spritz should do it,” Tink said. She tried to push the button again, but Fawn ducked away. Tink chased her around the room.
“Tink, stop! Animals hate perfume!” Fawn cried. Dodging Tink’s outstretched hands, she fled.
“Oh, well. Some fairies just don’t know what’s good for them.” Tink sighed and turned to her remaining friend. “And now, for you, Bess—Bess?” Tink looked around. “Where did she go?”
The room was empty. Bess, seeing her chance, had sneaked out the door while Tink wasn’t looking.
“Well, I can fix Bess later,” Tink said. “But what should I fix now?”
Then she heard a voice outside—a terrible, shrill voice. “I would never carry a daisy-petal parasol. They wilt, you know. Magnolia petals are much sturdier.”
That voice! Tink shuddered. She looked out the door and saw Iris talking to two other fairies. Or rather, Tink saw Iris talking—and two other fairies flying quickly away.
If there was ever a fairy who needed fixing, it’s Iris, Tink thought. Iris was bossy. She was irritating. And her voice was worse than Dooley’s squeaky wheel. It was a voice that needed fixing.
Not that fixing Iris will be easy, Tink thought. A slow grin spread across her face. Lucky for Iris, she was up to the challenge!
BY THE NEXT MORNING, Tink had figured out a way to fix Iris. Bright and early, she went to Lily’s garden. Tink was dragging a big, lumpy sack with her.
Lily was already working in the garden. She was digging holes for carrot seeds. When she saw Tink, Lily put down her shovel and dusted off her hands. “Tink, I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” she said. “Have you fixed my rake already?”
The rake! Tink had been so busy fixing fairies, she’d forgotten all about it. “No, not yet,” she admitted. “I’ll fix it soon.”
Lily peered curiously at the sack. “What have you got there?” she asked.
“It’s for Iris,” Tink replied. “Have you seen her?”
“Iris?” Lily nodded. “She’s over—”
“Unbelievable!” interrupted a shrill voice. It was coming from a corner of the garden. Tink turned and saw Iris hovering next to a cluster of daisies.
“These flowers’ stems are bent!” Iris declared, to no one in particular. “When I had a garden, my daisies were straight as fence posts!”
“Never mind,” Tink told Lily. “I see her.”
Tink flew over to Iris and set down her sack. “Iris! You’re just the fairy I’ve been looking for.”
“I suppose you’re here for my lecture on dandelions,” said Iris.
Tink shook her head. “I didn’t know about it.”
“I put up posters in the tearoom.” Iris glanced around, looking for the rest of the audience. “I thought more fairies would have come by now.”
“Well, why don’t you start? Maybe more fairies will turn up soon,” Tink suggested. A lecture was the perfect chance for her to fix Iris’s voice!
Iris picked up her big plant book and turne
d to a page. In a voice like rusty nails, she began to read, “‘The fierce dandelion is the king of flowers—’”
“Wait!” Tink cried, holding up her hands.
Iris looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Before you go on, you need this.” Tink untied the top of the sack. It fell away, revealing a shiny silver contraption. It looked a bit like a tuba, but bigger. It had a long neck that wound around and around in twists and turns and spirals. The end of the instrument flared out like a big silver flower.
“What is it?” Iris asked.
“It’s a Voice Fixer-Upper,” Tink said.
“What does it do?”
“You just talk into this end.” Tink pointed to the narrow end of the instrument. “Then your voice travels through all these twists and turns and comes out here.” She pointed to the flowerlike opening. “And it sounds better than ever.”
Tink had stayed up all night hammering the thing together from tubes and pipes and scraps of metal. She thought it was her finest invention yet.
“Go ahead,” she told Iris. “Try it.”
Iris put her mouth close to the narrow end. She cleared her throat. “As I was saying, ‘The fierce dandelion is the king of flowers…’”
As Iris spoke into the machine, a beautiful voice came out the other end. It was as clear as crystal and as soft as a summer breeze. Even the birds in the trees stopped singing to listen.
“It works!” Tink clapped her hands together with glee.
“‘Do not mistake the dandelion for a simple weed.’” Iris went on with her lecture. “‘It is, in fact, a cunning predator.’” Each word rang like the chime of a silver bell.
Lily came flying over. “What’s that lovely sound?” she asked Tink.
Tink pointed proudly to Iris and the Voice Fixer-Upper. She felt tears in her eyes. She’d done it! She’d fixed Iris! Oh, it was glorious!
Other fairies and sparrow men had started to poke their heads into Lily’s garden to see where the sound was coming from.
“Ah!” said Iris. “More fairies have come to hear my lecture.” She began to speak a little more loudly.
The problem was that Iris couldn’t hear herself. The end of the Voice Fixer-Upper was pointed away from her. To Iris’s own ears, she sounded the same as always.
“I can’t hear anything. Is this thing even working?” she asked Tink, fiddling with the Voice Fixer-Upper.
“Be careful!” cried Tink.
But Iris wasn’t listening. Before Tink could stop her, Iris had wrenched the wide flower end right off the machine. She held it up to her lips like a megaphone.
“Can every fairy hear me?” she screeched.
Now, imagine the scream of a hawk, the squeak of a rusty hinge, and the squeal of chalk on a chalkboard all rolled together. Iris’s shout was ten times worse. All the fairies’ hair stood on end.
“I say!” Iris remarked. “That’s much better!”
Using the end of the Voice Fixer-Upper like a megaphone, Iris continued her lecture.
“Stop! Stop!” Tink cried. It was unbearable.
Iris scowled at her. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to interrupt?” she snapped. Then Iris carried on, her voice booming across the garden. Around her, flowers wilted. Fairies cowered. Birds flew away.
Still Iris talked on.
Tink was near tears. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all!
“What should I do?” she yelled to Lily.
Lily’s hands were firmly clamped over her ears. But she could read Tink’s lips. She shrugged.
“Cover your ears,” she said. “And hope it’s a short lecture!”
TINK WAS NOT one to give up easily. Despite the Voice Fixer-Upper disaster, she was still determined to fix Iris’s voice.
She tried everything she could think of. She wrapped a spider-silk scarf around Iris’s neck, hoping the warmth would help. But Iris complained loudly about the color. Tink encouraged her to whisper. But that only made Iris talk more loudly. Tink even made her gargle with honeysuckle nectar. But it turned out Iris liked to sing when she gargled.
“…glurg-glurg—fly with me, fairy—glurg…,” Iris gargle-sang.
Iris’s singing voice was even worse than her regular voice.
“Well, that was nice,” Iris said when she was done gargling. Her voice hadn’t improved one bit. “But I think now I could use a little tea. Tink, why don’t you get me some?”
Tink scowled and flew over to Lily. “Iris acts like I’m her helper!” she complained.
“You have been paying her a lot of attention,” Lily pointed out.
“I’m just trying to fix her voice. But I don’t know what to do next,” Tink said.
Lily picked up her watering can and sprinkled water over a cluster of posies. “Maybe the reason you can’t fix Iris’s voice,” she replied, “is because she doesn’t want it fixed.”
“How could she not want it fixed?” asked Tink. “It’s awful!”
“Maybe it’s just what makes her unique,” Lily said.
But Tink wasn’t listening anymore. Something had caught her eye. Not far away, in the Home Tree courtyard, she saw Rosetta practicing the pinwheel dance. Rosetta’s arm was linked through a sparrow man’s. They spun in a circle, each using one wing to fly.
Look how well Herk dances, Tink thought with a smile. Look how happy Rosetta seems. At least that fix-it job had gone right.
But just then the couple spun around. Tink caught a glimpse of the sparrow man’s face. It wasn’t Herk after all. It was a fast flier named Blaze!
“Rosetta!” Tink yelled. “What are you doing?”
Rosetta smiled and flew over. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were bright. “Tink, isn’t it wonderful?” she said. “Blaze is going to be my dancing partner in the full-moon dance!”
“But—but—but—” Tink stuttered. “But I thought you wanted Herk to be your dancing partner.”
“That was before I ran into Blaze at the fast-flying races,” Rosetta explained. “You know, you were right. The problem wasn’t Herk, it was me—but now everything has worked out for the best.”
This was terrible! Herk was going to be so upset. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Tink asked Rosetta.
Rosetta looked surprised. “I thought everyone in Pixie Hollow knew! I told Rolo yesterday—and you know he can’t keep a secret.”
Tink’s mind reeled. Oh, this was bad! She’d fixed Rolo too well!
“Now my only problem is what to wear,” Rosetta babbled on. “I asked Trindle to make my dress. She usually has the most exciting outfits. But lately her clothes have been so…well, boring. Look, you can see for yourself. Here she comes now.”
Rosetta pointed to Trindle, who was flying toward them. The sewing fairy was dressed head to toe in yellow buttercups.
Rosetta shook her head. “You see what I mean, Tink? She’s all dressed in one color. Everyone’s saying she’s lost her touch.”
Tink clutched her head. It was too much. She’d fixed Trindle—and now she was going to have to un-fix her!
But, Tink decided, first I’d better find Herk. She needed to explain what had happened before she had another broken heart to fix.
Tink turned to leave—and came face to face with Herk himself.
“There you are, Tink!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Tink gulped. Had Herk seen Rosetta dancing with Blaze? Was he angry now? Were his feelings hurt? “I can explain—” she began.
“I don’t need you to explain,” Herk interrupted. “I just need practice! I’ve got to get all the steps right if I’m going to be your partner at the full-moon dance.”
“My partner!” Tink exclaimed.
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he said, suddenly looking uncertain.
Oh, no. Just thinking about dancing with Herk made Tink feel black and blue and sore all over. Somehow her fix-it job had gone terribly wrong. Now she had to choose between breaking Herk
’s heart—and risking her own neck!
Before Tink could answer, Trindle flew up. “Oh, Tink,” she said. “I’m so glad I found you. I’ve got a big problem—pink!”
“Pink?” Tink echoed faintly.
Trindle held up the spinner Tink had made. “I’ve got red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, but there’s no pink. How do I decide if I want to wear pink?”
Pink was the least of Tink’s problems! Tink opened her mouth to reply. But as she did, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw Rolo.
“Tink!” he whispered. “You’ve got to help me! I’ve lost the key!” He held up the little box Tink had given him. “All the secrets are still inside! What should I do?”
What should I do? Tink thought desperately. Everyone needed her help. And she didn’t know how to help any of them! She looked from one face to the next.
“Tink?” said Rosetta.
“Tink?” said Herk.
“Tink?” said Trindle.
“Tink?” said Rolo.
“TINK!” Iris screeched. “Where’s my tea?”
That voice! Tink couldn’t stand it a moment longer. Without thinking, she snatched the watering can from Lily’s hand and poured it over Iris’s head.
Water dripped from Iris’s hair. It slid from her nose. It pooled around her wings. Iris’s mouth opened.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Iris’s shriek was so loud and so shrill that creatures as far away as the Mermaid Lagoon had to cover their ears. All over Pixie Hollow, mirrors shattered. Soufflés collapsed. Milk soured in the milking buckets.
When Iris was done, there was a stunned silence. Rosetta, Herk, Trindle, and Rolo all turned to glare at Tink.
“What did you do that for?” Rosetta demanded.
“Yeah,” agreed Herk. “She was only asking a question.”
Tink looked around at their angry faces. At that moment, she realized that fairies were nothing like pots and pans. They never did what you expected. And they were very, very hard to fix.
Suddenly, Tink remembered Lily’s rake back in her workshop—a nice, quiet rake, waiting patiently for her attention. At that moment, Tink wanted nothing more than to be working on it.
