by Natasha Lowe
“Have a tuna fish sandwich,” Mr. Castor offered, handing her the plate.
“I am not complaining,” Lucy said, taking the smallest sandwich. “And please don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m very grateful you made me dinner, and I’ll still help with the washing up afterward, but I do think you should know that tuna fish is my second to least favorite thing to eat. It smells all fishy and tastes a bit like cat food.”
“Have you ever eaten cat food, Lucy?” Mr. Castor inquired.
“No, I haven’t, but if I did, then I think this is just what it would taste like.”
“Well, thank you for sharing,” Mrs. Castor murmured, putting down her sandwich and sipping at her water.
“A ham sandwich would have been delightful,” Lucy whispered. “Or even plain bread and butter.”
The rest of the picnic was rather silent. Her father didn’t tell any jokes, and Mrs. Castor had brought the book of baby names out with her. She kept glancing at the pages and giving little private smiles. Every once in a while she would say “What about Edward?” or “I quite like Louise,” until Lucy felt like picking up the book and flinging it as hard as she could over Mrs. Minor’s horrible fence.
MUCH TO LUCY’S DELIGHT, MRS. Castor had purchased a large bag of fresh ginger so she could make up regular batches of ginger tea (or “magic potion,” as Lucy liked to call it) for herself. The problem was she kept forgetting to say Lucy’s spell when she drank it, which was probably why there was still a distinct lack of chocolate cake in the Castor household. Lucy tried her hardest to make the best of things, but it wasn’t easy. Her mother was tired all the time, and behind in her work, and this made her snap at Lucy for stuff she would never have snapped at before.
“I asked you to put your laundry away, Lucy, and to pick up your pens from the floor,” Mrs. Castor had grumbled one afternoon, peering out from behind her laptop.
This was quite unfair, Lucy thought, because her mother had never minded about Lucy’s grand art projects that lay sprawled across the floor for days. And Chloe had done the laundry only that morning, so it wasn’t as if it had been hanging around for weeks like her mother made it seem.
And Mr. Castor, who never worried about things, seemed to be worrying rather a lot these days—about how Lucy’s mother was feeling and what a big change this was going to be for them all. Much to Lucy’s horror he suddenly started to sound a lot like Grandpa Castor had sounded when he was alive, all stressy and tense. Worst of all, he hadn’t read The Hobbit three nights in a row, saying he was just too tired. And he wasn’t even the one with a baby in his stomach.
One Thursday after school, about seven weeks since Chloe had begun working for the Castors, Lucy was closeted away in her bedroom, suffering from hunger and crankiness in equal amounts. Her dad wasn’t home yet, and her mom had completely taken over the Nest, sprawled across it with her laptop. She had snapped rather sharply when Lucy asked if there were any “edible” things to eat in the house, which Lucy still thought was a fair question, since Chloe’s burnt cookies, a box of stale cereal, and a couple of too soft pears did not really qualify as “edible,” in her opinion.
And then her mother had snapped even more sharply when Lucy asked her to play Monopoly, saying she had far too much work to finish up. To make matters worse Lucy hadn’t seen any signs of magic lately, which was becoming a bit of a worry. Rachel had tried to help by pointing out that she was finally learning a polka tune on the accordion, and not just scales, and that was pretty magical, wasn’t it? It was, Lucy agreed. Although secretly she felt this was more miracle than magical, but she was still very happy for her friend.
Going upstairs, Lucy decided to blow the dust off her nest collection and rearrange them. Her favorite nest was also the smallest, a tiny hummingbird nest, no bigger than a walnut, which Lucy had discovered in their backyard last spring. Mrs. Castor had left a shirt of her husband’s hanging on the line to dry, and then, as she often did with the washing, forgot to bring it back in. Mr. Castor’s shirt had hung outside for a whole week when Lucy noticed that hummingbirds had built a little nest in the top pocket.
Hummingbirds often built their nests in unusual places, a fact Lucy had read all about in Amazing Animals magazine. So the shirt stayed right there on the line with the little mama hummingbird sitting on her eggs, until one day, when Lucy came down for breakfast and saw that the family had finally gone. It occurred to her as she knelt beside the shelf, that this had been a pretty magical moment, finding the miniature nest in her dad’s shirt. Especially since she’d been wishing really hard for a nest to add to her collection. And even though it had happened last spring, Lucy opened up her notebook (which she had started to carry around with her, just in case) and wrote, Wish granted—Hummingbird nest appears in shirt pocket, because you couldn’t ignore a wish that had come true.
She was right in the middle of admiring her second favorite nest, the oriole nest her grandmother had brought her back from Maryland two years ago, when Lucy heard the front door open and voices downstairs in the hall.
“Lucy?” her dad called up.
“I’m rather busy right now,” Lucy called out, putting the deep pouch-shaped nest back on the shelf. Her grandmother had told her that orioles built their nests to dangle down from the branches, securing them in place with little woven loops. Lucy always thought how fun it must be to swing in an oriole’s nest, like a cradle being rocked by the wind.
“Chloe’s here,” Mr. Castor added. “With some rather good-looking brownies she made!”
“Oh, coming!” Lucy shouted, scrambling to her feet. “Coming right now.” She had completely forgotten that Chloe had promised to stop by that afternoon and show them the outfit she was planning to wear for her interview tomorrow.
Charging down the stairs, Lucy bounded into the kitchen, where Chloe stood by the table in a gauzy blue dress, holding a plate of brownies. She had dyed her hair blue to match her outfit. The top half of the dress was a pale sky color that darkened to a deep ocean-blue in the skirt. Putting the brownies down on the table, Chloe twirled around, looking as if she were rising out of the mist. “Wait till you see the hat I made to go with this,” she told them.
Lucy oohed in delight. “You look beautiful, Chloe, like an elf princess of the lake. And the brownies look exactly like brownies should look. Well done!” She plopped down on a chair at the exact moment Chloe cried out.
“NO! My hat. You’re on my hat,” Chloe wailed as Lucy felt something squish underneath her. Leaping to her feet, she stared at the white plastic bag on the chair.
“I, I didn’t know … ,” Lucy began, watching Chloe pull a crushed gray-looking thing out of the bag.
“Oh, Lucy!” Mr. and Mrs. Castor said together.
“It’s ruined,” Chloe choked out. “My papier-mâché hat. And it looked just like a river stone, perched on my head.”
“We can glue it,” Lucy said, her throat filling with lumps. “My dad’s a great gluer.”
“We can certainly try,” Mr. Castor agreed, but Chloe shook her head, stuffing the pieces back in the bag.
“I’ll help you make another one,” Lucy whispered.
“There’s no time, Lucy. My interview’s tomorrow morning.” Lucy could hear the crossness in Chloe’s voice, and bursting into tears, Lucy crawled under the table.
“Oh, this is a nightmare,” Lucy sobbed. “You must be so mad at me, Chloe. And I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you one bit. I am a thoughtless, clumsy person, and I have ruined your beautiful hat.
“I was just so excited to try your brownies,” Lucy added, her voice full of quivers. She buried her head in her lap and wrapped her arms around her knees, listening to the soft murmur of her parents telling Chloe how sorry they were. “So I guess this means our friendship is over?” Lucy whispered. “You will never be speaking to me again?”
“Lucy, it’s okay,” Chloe said with a sigh, bending down and offering her the plate of brownies. “I shouldn’t have put my hat on the chai
r. It wasn’t a smart place. And I don’t have to wear one to the interview,” she added. “I just thought it would look nice.”
“Now they’ll be able to see how pretty your hair looks,” Lucy said, sniffing. She took a brownie, because Chloe had gone to all the trouble of making them and bringing them over, although she didn’t feel in a brownie eating mood anymore. “I’d like to hug you,” Lucy said, “but I don’t want to get chocolate on your dress.”
“No, I don’t want that either,” Chloe replied, darting away from Lucy. “I should go,” she murmured, twisting her fingers together. “I have to be up early tomorrow.” She gave a soft sigh, and Lucy hated how sad Chloe looked, even though she was trying so hard to hide it.
“Wait a second,” Lucy said. “I’ll be right back.” She had to do something for Chloe, something that would make up for crushing her interview hat. If Chloe didn’t get offered a place at college, it might all be Lucy’s fault—because her outfit wasn’t fancy enough now, or what if Chloe came across as all grumpy and uninterested because she was still feeling sad? Lucy ran upstairs to her room and picked up the robin’s nest from her shelf, the one she had taken from Mrs. Minor’s tree. She stared at it for a long moment before carrying it carefully back down to the kitchen.
“This is for you,” Lucy said, offering the nest to Chloe. “It really should be yours anyway, since it has your ribbons in it. And bits of your hair,” she added, feeling a great pang of sadness at saying good-bye to her robin’s nest. But that was good, Lucy decided. It balanced out the sadness that Chloe must be feeling right now.
“Oh, Lucy, I can’t take your nest,” Chloe said, finally cracking a smile. “I know how special this is to you. It’s your magic nest.”
“I want you to have it,” Lucy insisted, putting the nest into Chloe’s hands. “You need the magic more than I do. It will bring you luck.” She had a worrying feeling Chloe might not want to work for the Castors anymore, and that would be just terrible, since hers was the only cheerful face Lucy saw around the house these days.
After Chloe had gone, Mr. and Mrs. Castor sat with Lucy on the couch, trying to make her feel better. “You didn’t mean to, Lucy,” Mrs. Castor murmured softly. “We all know that.”
“Accidents happen,” her father agreed. And for a few short minutes it was just like old times, all of them cuddled together on the Nest, even though Mrs. Castor had splayed out starfish style, taking up most of the room. But then Lucy’s mother started to feel sick again and had to balance Mildred on her knees, and Lucy’s dad began to go through the mail, giving soft stressy sighs every once in a while. No one felt like eating brownies. Which was a pity, Lucy thought, because they were actually quite good, and not the least bit burnt.
As she sat there, squished between her parents, she couldn’t help thinking how clever hummingbirds were. So much cleverer than people, because they used spiderwebs when they built their nests, weaving the sticky threads in with thistledown. This meant that as the baby hummingbirds grew, their nest could expand to contain them all. Not like the sofa, Lucy thought, which was already starting to feel far too small for the three of them.
AS LUCY SAT AT THE table the next morning, spooning up cereal and stuffing homework into her backpack, there was a loud knock on the door. Since Lucy’s mom was still upstairs and Lucy’s dad had left early for a staff meeting, Lucy raced to open it in a panic. No one visited this early, and she hoped nothing awful had happened to her dad. “Please don’t be a policeman bringing bad news,” Lucy whispered, tugging open the door. “Oh, Chloe. It’s you!” Lucy cried in relief. She gave a happy little skip and then froze, putting her hands up to her cheeks. “Oh, Chloe,” she said again, staring at their neighbor’s head. “It’s, it’s …” Lucy sighed in delight. “It’s magnificent!”
“Do you really like it?” Chloe asked, looking pleased. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“That is the most magical hat ever. I’m sure they’ll give you a place at college as soon as they see it.” Perched on Chloe’s head was the upside down robin’s nest, and woven in among the grasses and plant stems were threads of ribbon and wool in every possible shade of blue, from sea green to turquoise to indigo and navy. Chloe had left in the bits of lime green ribbon, and the effect was truly dazzling.
“I’m hoping the magic works,” Chloe said, glancing over her shoulder at a vintage orange Beetle car with a huge rainbow stenciled on the side. It was parked out front, and Jack waved at them through the window. “Hi, Lucy,” he called out.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Jack borrowed that car from his gran. It’s ancient but it still runs. Jack and Mel are taking me to Boston for good luck.” Mel, the girl with the long dark hair, leaned out of a back window, and Lucy decided that black lipstick was not a cheerful look.
“Come on, Chloe,” Mel shouted. “You don’t want to be late, and it’s going to take us hours in this thing.”
“Coming, Mel. Keep your fingers crossed, Lucy,” Chloe said.
“And my toes,” Lucy called after her as Chloe wafted down the path, her blue dress swirling out from under her velvet cape.
Chloe’s hat was without question a perfect petunia moment. And there had been very few of them since her parents’ big announcement eight weeks ago. The sad thing was Mr. and Mrs. Castor had not even been there to enjoy it. Lucy sensed this lack of petunia moments was bad for their health, although she didn’t know what to do about it.
It had crossed Lucy’s mind that her whole family might be suffering from a disorder called SAD. Lucy had read about SAD in one of the Sunday newspapers. It had been the headline story in the lifestyles section. She didn’t read the entire article, because it was rather long, but she read enough to get the general idea. Apparently, if you didn’t get sufficient sunlight, it could make you depressed. A lot of people got SAD in the winter, Lucy remembered the headlines saying, and you could treat it by sitting under a special sort of sunlamp that made you feel happy again.
Well, ever since Mrs. Minor had put up her fence, there had been a distinct lack of happiness in the Castors’ house. Maybe it wasn’t just the baby coming that was making everyone grumpy? Maybe it was a serious lack of sunshine, Lucy thought. And maybe if she could find a solution, it would make her parents start smiling again and realize what an amazing daughter they already had. She did consider knocking the fence down (or trying to), but Lucy knew this would get her into a great deal of trouble and would probably create more grumpiness, not less.
It turned out to be at the Put and Take, a couple of days later, that Lucy found the answer she was looking for. She had stopped in on her way home from school to see if there were any interesting treasures. Over the years, along with her genie lamp, magic carpet, and spell book, she had acquired a ceramic whale with a chipped blowhole, a wooden tennis racket, and her book of strange but true facts.
Today though, stamping wet leaves off her shoes, it was the cans of paint sitting on the table that immediately caught her eye. She could tell how bright and lovely the colors were from the drips down the sides, and Lucy read the names out loud. “Shock Your Socks Off Green, Purple Explosion, Electric Pink, Groovy Orange, Zoom to the Moon Blue, and Sunburst Yellow.”
It was the Sunburst Yellow that made her smile return. She would paint the kitchen yellow as a surprise. This had to be a sign, Lucy thought, goose bumps breaking out on her arms. Standing very still she could feel that electric, pulsing sensation in the air that happened whenever there was magic around. Only last week Lucy’s mother had mentioned how nice it would be to “redo” the kitchen, and here, in answer to her wish, was a beautiful tub of Sunburst Yellow, just waiting for Lucy to take home. “I always knew the Put and Take had to be magic!” Lucy whispered, determined to give her genie lamp another rub later on.
With Sunburst-colored walls it would feel as if the sun were shining even if they couldn’t actually see it, and this would be bound, Lucy felt certain, to lift everyone’s spirits up again. She gave the can a shake, not su
rprised to discover it was nicely heavy, and holding the tin in her arms Lucy nudged open the door. A bitter wind blew in her face. She had to be careful not to slip on the damp leaves scattered across the sidewalk.
There were pumpkins everywhere, on front porches and gateposts, and Lucy realized it was almost Halloween. Usually this was one of her favorite holidays, dressing up with Ella in matching costumes. They always carved pumpkins together and frightened themselves silly, daring each other to knock on Mrs. Minor’s door for candy. This year though, Lucy knew Ella was going trick-or-treating with the sparkle girls. May was having a party first, which Lucy hadn’t been invited to, and as she walked home she was hit by a sudden pang of sadness, missing the old Ella and Lucy, wanting things back the way they used to be.
Why did Ella have to go and change? Lucy thought angrily, kicking at a stone. To stop the mournful feelings from bubbling up, Lucy concentrated on how she could manage to keep her surprise a secret from her parents. What if she painted first thing in the morning perhaps, before her mom and dad were up? She’d set her alarm clock for five—no, six—Lucy decided. Five was awfully early, and it surely couldn’t take more than half an hour to paint their little kitchen, could it?
“Big art project?” Chloe said, meeting Lucy at the Castors’ front door. She was on her way out, dressed in tight brown leggings and a green velvet tunic. Apart from the blue hair and pierced bits Chloe looked surprisingly elflike.
“Sssh,” Lucy whispered, putting a finger to her lips. “It’s going to be a surprise for Mom and Dad. To cheer them up.”
“What are you painting?” Chloe asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“You’ll see tomorrow,” Lucy whispered. “But everyone’s going to love it! This is a sign, Chloe.” Lucy patted the tin. “It was just sitting at the Put and Take waiting for me to find. Things are going to be a lot brighter around here. In fact you’re going to need to bring your sunglasses when you come over in the morning.”
Lucy smiled and said, “I’m making the best of things. Just like you did with the nest hat.” She shifted the can of paint to a more comfortable position, trying not to think about Ella, or May’s party, or Halloween at all. “Have you heard from Prachets yet?”
