Astra''s Mixed-Up Mission

by Ahmet Zappa

  He arrived at the counter and peered through the foggy glass at the lunch offerings. “Hey, look, I got my wish!” he said.

  Astra’s heart leaped. “You did?”

  “Yeah—pizza bagels!” he said excitedly.

  “Pizza bagels?” Astra repeated. She had learned about both pizza and bagels in school, and she was certain they were two different things. But he pointed to a round food item covered in red sauce and some melted cheese. Astra frowned. What a waste of a wish! Still, she ordered one for herself. Might as well see what all the fuss was about. Once she had her food she looked around the crowded cafeteria for a seat.

  “Hey, new girl, over here!” someone called. Astra smiled, headed to Tony’s table, and sat down. “This is Timmy, Sean, Roseanne, Eleni, Janice, and Stephen,” he said.

  “Star—I mean, hello,” said Astra. She glanced at her wristbands, which, unfortunately, were still dark.

  “Astra’s new,” he explained.

  Rebecca gave her a funny look. “Who starts school two weeks before summer vacation?” she asked, peeling the top off a container of something pink and creamy and licking it.

  “Did you just move here?” asked Timmy.

  Astra smiled. “I just arrived!” she said.

  Too many questions! As Astra ate her pizza bagel (which was surprisingly tasty), she steered the subject to basketball, which was a good choice, as the kids all had a lot of opinions on the subject. She was relieved when the bell rang for class. She dumped her tray and headed to her new classroom. She was relieved to see that her wristbands began to glow as soon as she passed through the doorway, so she knew she was in the right place.

  Once Astra was settled at a desk and had been given a math book, they started their lessons. The other Star Darlings hadn’t mentioned just how tedious Wishling classes were. Math was especially painful, as Wishlings were terribly slow at figuring out the answers. She thought she might scream. They didn’t know anything! In English class she thought she’d get to read some Wishworld lighterature, but instead they diagrammed sentences, which seemed startacularly silly. Did Wishlings really need to know this stuff?

  Suddenly, class was interrupted as a voice, loud and crackly, came over the loudspeaker: “ATTENTION, STUDENTS. We have two announcements to make this afternoon. There will be a gymnastics competition this Friday after school in the gymnasium. Don’t forget to come and cheer on your fellow students as they tackle the parallel bars, floor routines, the vault, and the uneven bars!”

  Competition! Astra perked up. She had no idea what gymnastics was, but she was certain she was going to find out.

  The announcements continued. “And on Saturday morning at eleven a.m., please join us for an art show in the lunchroom. Support your fellow student artists and check out some really beautiful and inspiring art they’ve been working on!”

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see a serious-looking girl with curly brown hair jotting something down in her notebook. Astra’s pulse quickened. The gymnastics competition was the key to her mission; she was sure of it!

  “Time for science,” said Ms. Lopez. “Have a great rest of the day, guys.” The class packed up their backpacks, pushed in their chairs with a maximum of noise and effort, and headed out the door.

  In the science room, Astra walked up to the teacher, a tall thin man in a long white coat. Oddly, he was missing hair from the top of his head.

  “I am Astra, the new student,” she told him.

  “You are Astra, the new student,” he said. He smiled at her and sniffed the air, looking wistful.

  The students all sat down at tables in pairs. Astra stood at the front of the room uncertainly, not sure where she should go.

  “Astra,” said the teacher, “it looks like Emma’s partner is absent today. Emma, will you wave so Astra can join you?”

  Emma waved. To Astra’s delight, she was the curly-haired girl from across the aisle—the one who had been writing in her notebook during the announcements. This could be it, Astra thought. She took a deep breath. She was ready.

  “Hey, Astra,” Emma said, holding out her hand. Astra stared at it, not sure what to do. Then she slapped it, as she had seen the basketball players do earlier.

  Emma blinked at her in surprise. “Oh, okay,” she said with a shrug. “So it’s nice to meet you.” Then she said, “Wow.” Both she and Astra stared as Astra’s wristbands began to glow brightly.

  “And it is extremely great to meet you,” Astra said. “You have no idea.”

  “So tell me all about your—” Astra began.

  “Shhh!” said Emma. “Mr. Tedesco is about to start!”

  “Greetings, students,” said Mr. Tedesco. “Today we are going to learn how to build a catapult.” He paused. “Can anyone tell me what a catapult is?”

  Astra raised her hand. She knew that one and was eager to impress her Wisher with the knowledge she had gained in Wishers 101. “It’s a magazine with pages full of things that you can purchase with paper money,” she said confidently.

  The class laughed. Astra scowled, but when she saw Emma grinning at her, she realized that the kids thought she was saying it to be funny. She laughed along, to show that she was a good sport.

  Mr. Tedesco smiled. “Actually, that’s a catalog. But that was a good guess, Astra.” He looked around the room. “Has anyone heard of a catapult?”

  Tony raised his hand. “It’s a machine that launches things!” he said. “Like when you’re attacking a castle. Flaming hot tar right over the walls!”

  “That’s exactly right, Tony,” said Mr. Tedesco. He then projected an image of a strange machine on the whiteboard. “Catapults were widely used during medieval times. As you can see,” he said, pointing to the different parts, “a catapult has a lever for pulling back and a fulcrum for rotation. When released, the catapult flings objects—or flaming liquids, in Tony’s case—and they can go over walls and travel distances. We are going to build our own catapults in class today and then demonstrate them. We are going to learn all about force and its effect on speed and distance with this project. Plus it’s a lot of fun to shoot things in class, isn’t it?”

  The class laughed.

  “Very cool,” said a girl with pale hair.

  It was no wonder Astra had never heard of a catapult. Starland was a peaceful place and there was no need for weapons of any kind.

  The teacher handed out shoe boxes, rulers, markers, tape measures, rubber bands, tape, plastic spoons, and a few small white objects to all the student pairs. Astra squeezed one of the small white things. It was soft. She smelled it. Mmmmm. Sweet, too. “Are these edible?” she asked Emma.

  “Um, yeah,” said the girl, giving her a funny look. “Marshmallows usually are.”

  While they began figuring out how to assemble their catapult, Astra tried to engage Emma in conversation. But she soon discovered that her partner was extremely single-minded when it came to schoolwork. While it was admirable, it was also pretty frustrating.

  “Astra,” Emma said. “Less talk, more…catapulting.”

  “As soon as you are done, you should try out your catapults,” said Mr. Tedesco. “Shoot your marshmallow, measure the distance it travels, record the distance, and make any changes to your machines to see if you can shoot the marshmallows farther. Take careful notes on your work sheets. They are due tomorrow.”

  Suddenly, Astra had a great idea. If she worked super slowly and made lots of mistakes, she and Emma would have to work on the project that night after school. So she deliberately measured incorrectly, put the spoon on backward, and ate the marshmallows for good measure.

  Emma looked frustrated. “Let’s get this done,” she said. “I have a lot going on after school today.”

  The bell rang. School was over for the day. And they still weren’t close to finished. Astra was thrilled.

  “I can’t believe we have to finish that stupid catapult tonight,” Emma moaned, shaking her head as they stood by her locker after sc
hool. “Like I don’t have enough to do.”

  Astra leaned forward. “Sounds like you are very busy and wish for a more peaceful life of harmony and quietude,” she said, stealing a few of Piper’s phrases.

  “Not really,” said Emma. “That sounds kind of boring, actually.”

  Oh, well. Astra tried again. “So where are you going after school?” Astra asked. “Can I come?”

  Emma shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got gymnastics practice. Why don’t I come to your house after I’m done? It’s got to be quieter than my house!”

  Astra had to think fast. “Um…my parents are working late tonight,” she said.

  “Isn’t anyone going to be home? Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Emma asked.

  “No, just me,” said Astra. She had no idea why she had said that. But it sounded really appealing, actually. No little siblings getting in your stuff, stealing the attention from you and your accomplishments with their distracting cuteness. “Yeah,” she went on. “It’s just me and my parents. I have this whole huge room to myself. And my parents have all the time in the world for me. It’s pretty great.”

  Emma smiled. “It sounds nice,” she said. “I bet it’s quiet, too. And that you never get compared to anyone. Nothing to live up to. You can just be yourself.”

  Astra nodded. “And since you’re the only one, you never need to babysit or anything.”

  So Emma and Astra went their separate ways, promising to meet later at Emma’s house. Astra teleported herself to town, popping into and out of shops. She could have spent all evening in the sporting goods store, trying out each piece of equipment while an extremely helpful salesperson explained how it all worked. Then she glanced at her Star-Zap and realized it was time to meet Emma. Her Star-Zap leading the way, she walked along the sidewalk, past homes with neat lawns and well-trimmed hedges, until she reached a cozy house with a swing on the porch and window boxes with pretty pink flowers cascading out of them. She walked up the steps and knocked on the door. Emma answered it.

  “Hey, Astra,” she said. “Come in.” Astra stepped inside. The walls of the small entryway were jam-packed with photos of girls with medals and trophies, and it looked like the very same medals and trophies sat on the entryway table. Intrigued, Astra paused to take a look.

  “Come on, we need to get started,” said Emma, pulling her by the arm (a little forcefully, Astra thought) into the living room.

  They walked into the kitchen, where Emma’s mom was preparing dinner.

  “Mom, this is Astra,” said Emma. “She’s new at school.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Emma’s mom, extending her hand. As before, Astra slapped it.

  Emma’s mom looked surprised for a moment, then laughed. “Oh, okay,” she said. “So will you be joining us for dinner, Astra?”

  “I’d love to,” said Astra.

  “We’re having eggplant parmigiana,” Emma’s mom said. She paused for a moment. “Does anyone else smell cream puffs?” she asked. Emma and Astra both shook their heads.

  Emma rooted around in the cupboard until she found a half-eaten bag of marshmallows. She shoved it under her arm and they headed upstairs to her bedroom to do their homework. The room was filled with colorful paintings, drawings, and sculptures. They knelt on the flowered rug, finished assembling their catapult, shot it, and measured the distance the marshmallow traveled. Then they learned that by tightening the rubber bands and adjusting the position of the spoon, they could make it go even farther. That time the marshmallow went so far it hit the opposite bedroom wall, knocking over a bottle that was sitting on a dresser. Astra walked over and picked up the bottle. She blinked. It was the polish of removal! Her eyes lit up. “Hey, can I have this?” she asked, holding up the bottle.

  Emma shrugged. “Sure, I guess,” she said.

  “St—I mean thank you! Thank you!” Astra gushed, making sure the cap was on tightly before putting it carefully into her backpack. One bottle down, nine to go! They wrote down their observations.

  “Cool,” said Emma when they were done. “That wasn’t so bad after all.”

  They had math homework, too, so they went straight to work on it. Astra watched as Emma stuck out her tongue in concentration as she worked. Astra knew all the answers, but she labored over them so Emma wouldn’t get suspicious. She made sure that they finished at the same time.

  Astra was ready to get to the bottom of the wish situation. “So tell me—” she started.

  “Emma!” called her mom. “Have you finished your homework? Come help me with dinner! Your dad and sisters will be home soon!”

  “Coming!” shouted Emma. She stood and turned to Astra. “Wanna help?”

  Downstairs, Emma’s mom pointed to a pile of vegetables and a white board. “Here, help me make the salad,” she said.

  Emma grinned. “My mom hates making salad,” she told Astra.

  “I do!” said her mom. “All that washing and chopping!”

  “You can peel and slice those carrots,” Emma said, pointing to the end of the counter, where two bowls sat. One was filled with yellow food and the other was filled with orange food. Oh, starf! she thought. Which ones are the carrots?

  Wish Mission 8, Wishworld Observation #3: Add an “Identifying Wishworld Food” tutorial to avoid awkward situations like this!

  Well, she had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. So Astra separated one of the yellow things from the rest. She pulled the stem on top and the peel began to separate from the inside pretty easily.

  Emma glanced at what she was doing. “Astra, why are you peeling a banana?” she asked. Then she started laughing. “You’re so funny!”

  “Ha-ha,” Astra said. Yikes, she had to think fast! “Imagine mixing up a banana and a carrot. That is so silly!” She picked up the banana. “Mmmmm, what a tasty carrot,” she said, taking a big bite. Emma and her mother exchanged amused glances. Not bad, thought Astra as she chewed. The banana had a soft interior and a mild, pleasant taste. Then she picked up a carrot and stared at it. She grabbed the green fronds at the top and gave them a tug, but it did not peel like the banana had. Now she was stumped. This was getting very uncomfortable.

  Emma laughed and laughed. “That’s so funny, pretending you don’t know how to peel a carrot. Is that how you get out of helping in the kitchen at home?” She handed Astra a knife and a soft round reddish-orange food item. “Here, you can slice this tomato. I’ll peel the carrots.” She grabbed a utensil and began scraping the skin off them. Whew! That was a close one! Astra thought.

  A bell dinged and Emma’s mom put on some extremely large mittens, opened the oven door, and pulled out a bubbling dish. It looked pretty messy, all gooey and saucy, but it smelled startacularly good.

  “Hello! I’m home!” someone called. A large man strode into the kitchen in a matching jacket and pants, a long strip of fabric tied around his neck. He was followed by a smallish girl in a zippered jacket with a hood and matching pants, her hair in a sleek bun.

  “Hey, honey,” Emma’s mom said to the man, who was presumably her husband. “How was practice, Elizabeth?” she asked the little girl.

  “It was great!” Elizabeth said. “I finally perfected my aerial!”

  “Daddy!” cried Emma, lunging forward to hug him around his middle.

  “Hello, sweetums, how was school today?” he asked, patting her head.

  “Fine,” she told him. “This is my new friend Astra.”

  Astra smiled. She liked that.

  “Hello, new friend Astra,” said Emma’s dad. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Astra extended her hand. Oddly enough, Emma’s dad didn’t slap it. He engulfed it in his large one and shook it up and down. Astra made an observation: some Wishlings slap hands and other Wishlings shake them. Emma started to say something.

  “Can it wait a minute?” he said. “I want to go upstairs and get changed out of this monkey suit.” Without waiting for her answer, he left the kitchen, and Astra
could hear the steps creak as he bounded upstairs.

  Emma’s mom took out plates and silverware, and the three girls set the dining room table, then headed back to the kitchen for napkins. The front door opened again with a burst of excited chattering.

  Astra looked at Emma. “My big sisters,” Emma explained. “Eva and Ellie. They’re twins.” Two girls who looked exactly alike, dressed just like Elizabeth, crowded into the kitchen, kissing their mother, tousling their sisters’ hair, grabbing carrot sticks, dropping bags and jackets on the kitchen table, and talking, talking, talking. They talked almost as much as Gemma, for stars’ sake! Astra caught a few phrases—straddle, press handstand, dive roll, pike. None of it made any sense to her. But she was entranced by their energy and enthusiasm. Elizabeth joined in and told her big sisters about her aerial. They cheered and hugged her.

  When they finally paused to take a breath, Emma introduced Astra to them.

  “We’re the gymnastics champs of Greendale High,” said Eva.

  “And I’m the top gymnast at Greendale Elementary,” offered Elizabeth.

  Emma leaned over to whisper in Astra’s ear. “They never stop talking,” she said. “And it’s only ever about one thing. My entire family is obsessed with gymnastics.”

  “What is gymnastics, anyway?” Astra asked her.

  Emma grinned. “That’s a good one. Oh, Astra, you make me laugh!”

  Emma’s dad came back downstairs, dressed in Wishling relaxing clothes, and there were more hugs and greetings. They sat down to dinner and Astra found that she was famished. Her plate of eggplant parmigiana and salad disappeared quite quickly, and she eagerly refilled her plate when offered seconds.

  After the twins filled in the family on every move they had completed successfully at practice, Elizabeth told the story, in painstaking detail, of her aerial. Meanwhile, Astra polished off her second helping.

  Emma’s parents nodded happily. “All it takes is determination and practice,” her father said. He turned to Emma. “Right, my girl?”

  “Right, Dad,” said Emma, her eyes on her plate.