by Ahmet Zappa
Libby pulled out her Star-Zap and said, “Take me to the Wisher I’ve come to help.” Directions appeared and Libby quickly fell into step behind an adult female Wishling. After a couple of turns, she found herself on a busy city street. She stood still for a moment and tried to take it all in. It was loud, crowded, overwhelming, and totally wonderful all at the same time. Then someone bumped right into her, nearly knocking her over onto the sidewalk.
“Out of the way, kid,” said a gruff voice. “You can’t just stop in the middle of the sidewalk! What’s wrong with you?”
Libby looked up to see an adult male Wishling in a matching jacket and pants, a thin strip of material tied around his neck. He was holding a brown satchel in one hand and what looked like a very early prototype of a Star-Zap to his ear with the other. He scowled at her. “Oh, just some dumb kid,” he said into the phone before he took off, weaving through the crowd.
Libby stuck out her tongue at his departing back. How rude!
“Oh, don’t mind him,” said a voice. Libby looked over to see an adult female Wishling with a kind face pushing a large wheeled contraption with a tiny baby sleeping inside. “Some people have no manners.”
Libby smiled at her. “Thank you!” she said. She decided to make her first mental note. By pressing a button on her Star-Zap, she could record in her Cyber Journal an observation made in her head. It could then be studied by the other Star Darlings for use on their missions.
Mission 2, Wishworld Observation #1: Some Wishlings are rude. And some are quite nice.
Hmmm…Maybe that wasn’t such a mind-blowing observation. It was actually a lot like life on Starland. She knew she should probably get to the school as soon as possible, but she needed a starmin to take it all in. She moved out of the way and watched. Pedestrians rushed by, and people were spilling out of underground stairwells and onto the street. Where did they come from? she wondered. Do some Wishlings live underground? There were tons of those funny-looking Wishling vehicles—some long and boxlike, filled with many people, and some small and carrying only a few. Many of them were yellow and had signs and lights on the top. The streets were lined with large buildings with glass fronts. There were a lot of stores selling clothes, shoes, and food. There were many places called banks and others called pharmacies. And it was noisy: vehicles were honking, revving, and screeching. People were yelling, chatting, whistling, and constantly moving, moving, moving. She thought she could stand there all day watching the people walk by—wearing their Wishling clothes, their Wishling shoes, talking in their Wishling voices.
Mission 2, Wishworld Observation #2: Wishlings seem to always be in a big rush to get someplace else.
An official-looking Wishling, wearing a blue uniform with a badge and a matching blue hat on his head, stopped in front of Libby. “Shouldn’t you be in school, young lady?” he asked.
Libby snapped out of her reverie. “That’s right!” she said. “Thank you!”
She flipped open her Star-Zap (which looked enough like the devices everyone else was using that she wasn’t afraid of standing out) and accessed the directions. She began to walk to the school. She quickly figured out the flashing signs on the street corners. The red-lighted hand meant stop and the little white-lighted person walking meant it was okay to cross the street.
The rest of her walk was uneventful (though she did start to wonder why Wishlings needed quite so many banks and those mysterious pharmacy places), and she soon stood across the street from her destination, waiting for the little walking man to tell her it was okay to cross. It was a white brick building with a flagpole in front, the starred and striped flag fluttering in the breeze. It looked a little shabby, but in a nice way, like it was well used. WELCOM TO OUR SCHOOL read big cutout letters that hung in the large windows facing the street. That puzzled Libby. Maybe they spell words differently on Wishworld, she thought.
“Hurry up,” someone called. Libby looked up to see an adult female Wishling in a bright yellow vest and a white hat and gloves beckoning for her to cross the street. “You’re late for school!” she said.
Libby did as she was told and hurried to the school entrance. She pushed open the front door and stepped inside. A large letter E was lying on the floor by the windows. Curious, Libby picked it up. Actual paper! It was very light. She tried to stick it back in the window after the M, but as soon as she turned, it fluttered back to the ground.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll fix it later. Don’t want anyone to think we don’t know how to spell here!” someone said in a jolly voice. It was an adult female Wishling in a blue uniform that looked just like the one worn by the Wishling who had asked Libby if she should be in school. She held open a door that led to the school lobby. “I’m sorry to say that you’re going to need a late pass.”
“A late pass, of course,” replied Libby. What on Starland is a late pass? she wondered.
Libby walked inside, and the Wishling followed her and took a seat behind a desk. She pushed some papers to the side, pulled out a binder, and flipped it open. She picked up a pen and looked up at Libby expectantly.
“Name?” she said. She peered at Libby closely. “Actually, come to think of it, you don’t look familiar to me,” she said with a frown. Then she smiled despite herself. “Mmmmm, chocolate cake,” she said. “My grandpa used to make one every Saturday, with vanilla frosting and sprinkles. And then, after dinner, he would light a candle and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, because I liked birthdays so much. And we’d each eat a big piece with a tall glass of milk.”
Libby didn’t smell anything, so she just smiled. Oh, that’s right! Whenever Starlings were around, adult Wishlings smelled the scent of their favorite bakery treat from their childhood. That was a little weird, but mostly kind of nice, she thought. Libby glanced at the name on the woman’s badge. Then she leaned forward and looked into the woman’s brown eyes, just as Sage had taught her. “Lady Jones,” she began. “I am—”
“Lady Jones!” the adult female Wishling said with a cackle. “Do you think I’m royalty? That’s Officer Jones to you, young lady!”
Oops. Libby started over. “Officer Jones, I am Libby, the new student,” she said. She felt a rush of relief when the Wishling repeated, “You are Libby, the new student.”
She smiled as Officer Jones wrote Libby on the late pass. Then Officer Jones looked up. “Last name?”
Libby opened her mouth, then closed it. They hadn’t covered this in school. Starlings didn’t have last names. “It’s Libby…uh…Libby…”
In a panic, she glanced down at a folded piece of paper on the officer’s desk and saw a list. A class list, maybe? She read aloud the first word she saw, which was not easy, as it was upside down. “Li…li…liverwurst,” she said. That was when she realized that the piece of paper was not a class list. It was a menu.
She regretted her choice as soon as she said it out loud. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she did know one thing for certain: it was a terrible-sounding name!
“Libby…Liverwurst?” the officer said, frowning.
“Libby Liverwurst,” Libby repeated glumly.
With a shake of her head, the officer wrote down the name on the late pass. “Libby Liverwurst.” She looked like she was trying hard not to smile. “And what class are you in?”
“Room 546,” she said, recalling the number she had read on the directions.
“Room 546,” repeated the officer, writing down the numbers. She handed Libby the pass. “Have a good day, Miss Liverwurst.”
“Thank you,” said Libby politely.
Once she was out of the officer’s view, Libby pulled out her Star-Zap and followed the directions it provided. Up two flights, through the doors, make a left, past the gym, first classroom on the right. The hallway was quiet, but she could hear the drone of teachers’ voices from behind closed classroom doors and the higher-pitched voices of the kids. Then she caught the squeaking sound of rubber soles on wood. That had to be from the gym. She
noted that the walls were painted a cheerful shade of yellow. By each doorway was a large rectangular board, covered in artwork—busy scenes, funny faces, drawings of odd creatures she had never seen before. There were also several colorful posters hanging on the walls. One had a simple white background with the words AVA FOR PRESIDENT on it in large letters. Nothing else. Another really caught her eye. On it was an image of a bearded adult male Wishling, in a red, white, and blue outfit and top hat, pointing directly at her. I WANT YOU TO VOTE FOR KRISTIE! it read.
Interesting. Libby had a secret desire to get involved in school politics and hoped one day to run for Light Leader, the head of the student government of Starling Academy. She glanced at the bottom of the poster and noticed that the election was to be held in two days’ time. Hmmm. Maybe she’d learn a few tricks about elections while she was here. In addition to granting a wish and collecting a vast amount of wish energy, of course.
She glanced up and realized she had passed the classroom she was looking for, room 546. She backtracked, and then, taking a deep breath, she knocked and waited.
The door opened, and a teacher with a sweet round face and short curly brown hair looked down at her curiously. Libby remembered her line. Before the teacher could say a word, she announced, “I am Libby, your new student.”
To Libby’s relief, the teacher ushered her right in (after sniffing the air and exclaiming how it smelled just like red velvet cake, that is). “Class, this is Libby, our new student,” she told everyone. She pointed to an empty desk in the back of the room. “You can sit right there,” she said.
Libby made her way down the aisle, looking at the students curiously. The kids all had different skin colors, just like at home. And when she pictured them with brightly colored hair—reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, and purples—and a layer of glitter on their skin, they looked an awful lot like Starlings. Wishlings and Starlings weren’t that different at all.
She settled herself into her seat, noting how uncomfortable Wishling school furniture was.
“My name is Ms. Blackstone,” the teacher said. “And you are Libby…”
Oh, great. This again. “Liverwurst,” Libby said miserably.
As she had feared, the class burst into laughter.
“Class!” said the teacher. “I am very disappointed in you. We don’t laugh at people’s names! That is completely unacceptable. Please apologize to Libby Liv—to Libby,” she said.
“We’re sorry, Libby Liverwurst,” the class said in unison.
Libby wasn’t quite certain, but she had a sneaking suspicion that her new teacher was trying hard not to laugh.
“That’s okay,” said Libby. “It is a pretty funny name.”
Ms. Blackstone had a sympathetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, Libby, but we’re about to head out for a class trip. And since you don’t have a signed permission slip, you won’t be able to come along with us. I’ll see if I can get you a seat in Mr. Dilling—”
Libby thought fast. She couldn’t be separated from her Wisher! “I already gave you the permission slip,” she said, looking into the teacher’s eyes. “So I can come.”
Ms. Blackstone thought for a moment. “Oh, that’s right,” she said, nodding. “You already gave me the permission slip. So you can come.”
The young male Wishling in the seat ahead of Libby’s turned around. “Wait a minute, how did you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?” asked Libby innocently.
At the front of the bus, a small girl, her hair cut close to her head in a very cute shaggy style, stood and kneeled on her seat so she faced the rest of the bus. She began to sing:
Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…
The class cheered and joined in.
Ninety-nine bottles of beer,
If one of those bottles should happen to fall,
How many bottles of beer on the wall?
Ninety-eight bottles of—
“Inappropriate!” Ms. Blackstone called out from her seat in the front of the school bus.
There was a short silence, then the girl grinned and started singing again.
Ninety-nine bottles of root beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of root beer…
The class laughed and sang along.
“That’s better!” called Ms. Blackstone.
Libby took a furtive look at her Wish Pendant. She had taken a seat next to a young female Wishling with curly red hair and freckles who was staring out the window, a pensive look on her face. Libby was hoping that the young female Wishling’s preoccupied look was due to deep thoughts about an unfulfilled wish. But when Libby sat down and introduced herself, she realized that her Wish Pendant was still dark. Not wanting to be rude, she tried to strike up a conversation.
“So what’s your name?” Libby asked brightly.
“Susie,” she said.
“And where are we going on our class trip?” Libby asked.
“Aquarium,” Susie answered.
Libby had no idea what that was, but obviously she couldn’t ask. Maybe her next question would clear things up. “Um…what’s your favorite thing at the aquarium?”
“Fish,” Susie said.
No such luck. Libby nodded, smiling to herself as she realized that she had traded the world’s most talkative roommate for the world’s least talkative seatmate.
The bus came to a stop at a red light. Red for stop, thought Libby. She was really getting familiar with the way things worked on Wishworld. A young female Wishling appeared at Libby’s side. “Switch seats?” she asked.
“Sure!” said Libby gratefully. She crossed the aisle and sat in the empty seat next to a young female Wishling with long blond hair and bright blue nail polish. The Wishling grinned at Libby.
“Hi, Libby Liverspots,” she said. “I’m Gabby.”
Libby didn’t correct her, although if there was one name that was less pleasant-sounding than Libby Liverwurst, that had to be it. “Hey, Gabby,” she said. She looked down expectantly. Her Wish Pendant was still dark. Sigh.
Libby shifted in her seat. It was pretty uncomfortable. She realized that vehicle seats, like those in the classroom, didn’t automatically adjust on Wishworld. But surely there was a button or something to push to get a little more comfortable. This was ridiculous. She started to examine her side of the seat.
The young male Wishling across the aisle from her was giving her an odd look.
“What are you looking for, new girl?” he asked. “You lose something?”
“No, I’m just looking for the seat adjuster,” Libby said.
He looked blank.
“To fix the seat for my height and weight,” Libby explained. “You know, so I’ll be more comfortable.”
He laughed. “Comfortable? On a school bus? What kind of buses have you been riding?” He elbowed his seatmate and pointed to Libby. “Hey, Aidan, the new girl is used to adjustable school bus seats!”
Aidan nodded. “I’ve heard about those,” he said knowingly. “Private school, right?”
“Um, sure,” said Libby, completely confused. She turned back to her seatmate. At least she seemed a little more talkative than the last one. Libby figured she could probably get some helpful information out of her. “So tell me about our class,” she said. “Anything interesting I should know about?”
Gabby thought for a moment. “Well, we’re all working on our term papers. So you’re going to have to come up with a subject to write about.”
Libby thought about that for a moment. Didn’t seem promising. “Anything else?”
“We’re learning how to square-dance in gym,” she offered.
Aidan groaned. “She wants to know what’s interesting, not what’s the most hideous thing about school,” he said. “Square dancing is the worst. We all have to hold hands and do-si-do. It is so painful.”
Libby nodded sympathetically. She was getting good at pretending she wasn’t completely confused by what everyone was saying to her. “So what’s going on
at school that is interesting?” she asked him.
He thought for a moment. “I guess I’d have to say it’s the election,” he said finally. “Two best friends are running against each other. It’s pretty weird.”
A wave of electricity ran up Libby’s spine. She sat up straight in her seat. Could that be the energy surge that Lady Stella had mentioned? She wasn’t sure, but it was a definite possibility. Maybe she was on to something here!
“That seems tough,” Libby said, her voice higher than usual in her excitement. She thought back to the posters in the hallway. “So is either Ava or…or…um, Kristie in our class?”
“Ava is,” said Gabby.
“So which one is A—” Libby started. But then the bus shuddered to a stop with a loud squealing sound. The kids all immediately jumped to their feet and began pushing in a mad rush to get off the bus.
