Diary of a Mad Brownie

by Bruce Coville

  She was true to her promise to walk with me. It was a good thing she did. Indeed, I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t, since as we drew close to the edge of the Carharts’ yard, a horrid chill seized me. After a few more steps something began to churn within me. My stomach grew sick and woozy. My heart felt like a knife was twisting in it. I began to gasp for breath, but the air burned my lungs.

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

  “It’s the curse, trying to keep me from going!”

  Though I was shaky, I continued to walk, hoping that if I made it past the property line, the worst would be over. Soon my legs were trembling so fiercely I could hardly stand. I felt as if a great hand, bigger and stronger than Bennett’s, was squeezing me about the middle.

  The churning in my stomach grew more intense. I fell to my knees and vomited out the farewell cookie Alex had shared with me before we left the house.

  “Angus?”

  “We’ll keep going,” I wheezed, pushing myself back up.

  But we didn’t keep going much longer. A black haze swam before my eyes. Fire seemed to run in my veins.

  I let out a little scream.

  That was the last I knew until I woke to find myself back in my shoe box inside the Pink Horror.

  It’s day now, so Alex is at school. I do not know how much time has gone by.

  Nor do I know what she will have to say to me when she gets home.

  I do know that I am not looking forward to it.

  I would go out and clean, but I am too weak.

  I am even missing Halloween, the most important day of the year in the Enchanted Realm.

  Must sleep more now.

  10/31 (Sat.)

  Angus has recovered! Really, I was terrified that he was going to die. But now I don’t know what to do. He can’t stay here. I can’t let him. Mom is ready to kill Dad as it is, and Dad is going nuts from trying to write beautiful songs, which he is totally unable to do. Last night he came up to sing me a new one and I had to tell him that rhyming “focus” with “mucus” was a bad idea, especially in a love song.

  He looked so sad I thought he was going to cry. I think he really believed it was brilliant. The curse seems to have hit him even harder than it hit Bennett. Maybe it’s because he’s older.

  I need to ask Angus if people ever get used to it. They must, or they would just end up flinging themselves off bridges or something. But even if they do get used to it, they must be so sad.

  Well, I can’t ask him now. He’s sleeping again, which is what he has mostly been doing for the last couple of days. I’m so worried about him I’m not even going out trick-or-treating tonight. I feel like I need to be here in case he needs me.

  And what am I going to do about him? I suppose we could try leaving again, and when we got to the point where he collapsed, I could pick him up and throw him into the next yard. But I’m afraid that might kill him. Or some dog or owl or something might come along and eat him.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  Sunday, November 1

  Last night I tested my theory that I could leave the Carhart property as long as I was planning to come back.

  I’m happy to say that it worked.

  The reason I left was so I could return to the Enchanted Realm and try to find Weegun. I needed someone from the Realm to talk to, to see if I could figure out a way to break this cursed curse.

  I explained my plan to Alex, then asked if she could direct me to the nearest kirk. She looked at me oddly and said, “We don’t have any Kirks in our class.”

  “Well, no, you wouldna have one in your class. It wouldna fit.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “What are you talking about?” I replied.

  We have a lot of conversations like this. Fortunately, we are getting better at working them out. Before things got too cranky, we managed to figure out that what I call a kirk, she calls a church.

  “Why do you want to find a church?” she asked when we had things clear.

  “I must go three times round it widdershins to get back into the Enchanted Realm.”

  Then I had to explain widdershins, of course.

  Well, no need to talk more about that, or the trip to the kirk, other than to say that I was right about the curse. Being pure in my intent of returning this time, I felt no disturbance in my guts as I left. What a difference from the other night!

  I didn’t know how I was to find Weegun once I was back in the Realm, but that turned out to be easily managed as well, for I had not been there even an hour when he came strolling towards me. When I asked him how he knew I had come, he said, “We’ve set many a spell to protect our borders, Angus Cairns. I knew the moment you returned to the Enchanted Realm, just as I knew the first day that you entered our territory and came to greet you. You didn’t really think that was a coincidence, did you?”

  Though he didn’t say it, I was fair sure he also meant that he had come to make sure I was up to no mischief.

  When I told him of my problem, he said, “Alas, that is not something I can help with. But maybe Granny Squannit can give you some advice.”

  “And who is Granny Squannit?”

  “The oldest and wisest of all the Makiaweesug. Come, I’ll take you to her. It would be better if you had a gift for her, but as you did not know you were going to see her, it may be all right.”

  It was a lengthy walk, and finally Weegun asked if I would like to ride on his shoulder. Normally I would prefer to stay on my own two feet, but as I wanted to be back before dawn, I accepted his offer.

  At last we came to an opening in the side of a hill. Within the hill, the halls were lit by torches that made no smoke. We twisted and turned through tunnels till we came to a chamber that had a fire blazing in its center. This fire did smoke, but the smoke rose straight to a hole in the rocky roof, and passed from there into the night.

  On the far side of the fire sat a woman whose long white hair hung over her face. She rose when we entered. Though she was no taller than Weegun, she was at least twice as wide.

  “Who is that riding on your shoulder, Weegun?” she asked.

  I shivered, for I knew by her voice that I was in the presence of one of the ancient ones.

  “He is Angus Cairns, and of the Enchanted Realm,” Weegun answered. “He came from across the Shadow Sea.”

  “Did he come on the trading ships?”

  I near fell off Weegun’s shoulder at that question. Why did no one tell me there were trading ships on the Shadow Sea? I would far rather have come here on one of those than by selkie!

  “I will let him tell his story in his own words,” said Weegun as he plucked me from his shoulder and placed me on the floor.

  “Come to my side of the fire, small one,” the woman ordered.

  I did as she asked, eager to draw close to her, but at the same time frightened by the great power I sensed in her.

  “Tell me your story,” she said.

  “That could take all of the night,” I replied.

  She chuckled. “We have time enough. As you well know, or at least ought to, time passes differently here in the Enchanted Realm, sometimes faster than in the human world, sometimes slower. I will make this a slow night. Speak as if you have all the time in the world.”

  So I told her everything, from the time my da met Ewan McGonagall, up to the problem that had brought me to her this night. If she lost patience or thought a part unimportant, she waved her hand, and I would hurry past it. Other times she held her hand palm out, signaling me to slow down. Then I would speak in more detail.

  As we were outside of regular time, I have no idea how long it took me to tell her all this.

  When I finished, she said, “That is quite a tale, Angus Cairns. And you have come to me because you wish to find a way to break the curse, is that right?”

  I nodded, my mouth so dry from talking I was not sure I could squeeze out another word.

  “Speak
up,” she ordered.

  “Yes,” I said huskily. “I do not wish to bring such grief and problems to the house where I am now bound.”

  “How did your father deal with such things?”

  I had wondered about this myself, and only half understood. “I think it may have been different in Scotland. Back there we expect life to be dour, and things to be hard, and a curse like this would be but one more hardship. Here…I don’t know. Somehow it seems as if these Americans feel they are in control of their destiny and can make things work out, and when they canna, it hits them harder than it ever would have on the old home soil.”

  At this the old woman laughed. “I do think you’ve put a finger on it, Angus Cairns. I do think you’ve put a finger on it. Now listen to me. This curse will not be easy to break. I know the Queen of Shadows, and she is not one to let go of anger easily. The only thing you can do is follow the terms of the curse and return to her what has been lost.”

  “How can I do that?”

  Stroking a lock of her hair, Granny Squannit said slowly, “The answer may be closer at hand than you think. Magical things tend to draw together. But you’ll have to open your eyes and ask questions. Beyond that, I cannot say, other than to tell you that if you do find what was lost, you must go back to Scotland to return it. And not you alone, of course. If you’ve properly told me the curse, a male of the McGonagall line must do the actual returning.”

  My heart quailed at the memory of my last crossing. “You spoke of trading ships,” I said. “Are there really such things?”

  “Oh, of course. Great silvery ships that ply the Shadow Sea. They ride on ghost winds and make the transport smoother than ever it could be on the seas of the human world. But they will not take on passengers for free. There will be a price. There is always a price.”

  “And what will it be?” I asked.

  “That depends on the captain. Each can set his own fare. I should warn you, they can be quite whimsical about it.”

  I bowed. “Thank you. You have not solved my troubles, but—”

  She interrupted me. “No, I have not, nor can I. That is up to you, Angus Cairns.”

  “You have not solved my troubles,” I repeated. “But you have given me hope, and that is no small thing.”

  “Hard to say whether I have given you hope, or you are simply catching it from the hope-befuddled humans who live on this side of the Shadow Sea. However, I will give you something else, something solid that may be of use. It would be a sad thing were you to go back to break the curse, only to find that ten years or more had gone by in the human world while you were in the Enchanted Realm. So I have a gift for you. Think of it as return for the strange and interesting story you gave me this night.”

  She began to rummage beneath that curtain of white hair. After a moment, she extended a plump hand.

  In it was a wooden peg.

  “Take it,” she ordered.

  “Thank you,” I said, accepting the piece of wood. “What is it?”

  “A time peg. If you do make the trip to the far side of the Shadow Sea, it will be of great use to you. Simply pound it into the ground at the spot where you enter the Realm. The peg will lock you to that time, and as long as no one removes it, you will be able to come back to the human world at the exact moment you left.”

  “Oh, this is a great gift indeed! What can I do in return?”

  “Come back and tell me your story when all is said and done, and all is done and said. I wish to know how you make out.”

  “That I will do, and gladly,” I said.

  “Then go now,” she said, waving a hand. “It is late, and I grow weary. Weegun will accompany you to the place where you must reenter the human world.”

  I bowed again, then followed Weegun out of the stony hill.

  As we walked, he spoke to me of the ships that ply the Shadow Sea. There is so much of the world that I know so little of. How can I be well over a hundred years old and still feel such an infant?

  11/1 (Sun.)

  When I got up this morning, I peeked in the dollhouse and saw that Angus had made it back from his trip. He’s sound asleep now, and I don’t want to wake him. So it’s a good time to catch up on my journal. The main thing to report is that Dad has pretty much locked himself in his studio, except when he comes up to sing us another new song. They’re getting worse.

  He and Bennett have formed some kind of Dread Poets Society. They read their stuff to each other and then congratulate each other on how good it is.

  Great. The last thing either of them needs is reinforcement!

  Seriously, how can anyone write a poem like:

  I’m starting to lose focus

  And my heart feels like a crocus

  But when you tear my petals off

  I feel so sad I want to cough!

  What the heck does “I feel so sad I want to cough!” even mean?

  No wonder Bennett’s jock friends have started to tease him.

  I could throttle Angus for this, except I know it’s not really his fault (though it feels like it is). Besides, I’m afraid that if I did throttle him, the curse would still be in effect, and I need him to help get rid of the thing!

  My stomach hurts most of the time now.

  Also, I’m not sleeping very well. Friday I got yelled at for nodding off at my desk.

  Sunday, November 1 (part 2)

  This afternoon I reported to Alex everything that happened on my trip to the Enchanted Realm. She was both excited and horrified.

  “We’ve got to do something soon,” she said. “There are only a few days left for Dad to get his job back. If we can’t break the curse before that time runs out, my family is in big trouble.”

  “Well, how are we to do that? We would have to return what’s been lost to the queen, and we can’t do that because we don’t have it!”

  “What, exactly, has been lost?” Alex asked. “Get out the curse again. Let’s read it carefully.”

  I did as she asked. When we were done studying it, she groaned and said, “If I’m right, what was lost is the queen’s daughter.”

  “Aye. And we’ve no idea where she is, or even if she’s still alive. And even if we did, it wouldn’t do any good for me to take her back. It would have to be your brother or your father.”

  Alex laughed at this.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “I was just thinking of Dad going to the Enchanted Realm.”

  I smiled at that, but it was not enough to lift me out of the glums. Though I didn’t want to come here, these Carharts are good people and I’ve grown fond of them, even Bennett the lout. I wanted to do as I ought, and keep their house trim and fair.

  Instead I have brought shame and ruin upon them.

  Monday, November 2

  The oddest thing happened today. When the children arrived home from school, Destiny came into Alex’s room. This was before I had come out to speak to Alex, so I watched through one of the windows of the Pink Horror.

  The wee girl had with her a tiny envelope, about an inch and a half long. She handed it to Alex, who looked at it and scowled. “This says it’s for ‘Herbert the Brownie.’ I thought Herbert was a goblin.”

  Destiny shook her head. “Teacher says he’s really a brownie, but she’s a little mixed up. Anyway, this isn’t for Herbert. It’s for the brownie.”

  “Then why are you giving it to me?” Alex asked cautiously.

  “ ’Cause you have a brownie living in your room.”

  “What makes you say that?” asked Alex, and I felt a bit of warmth towards her because I saw she was trying to keep me secret.

  “I seen him,” Destiny said.

  Clearly I had not been as cautious as I thought! Ah, weel. ’Tis nae so bad to be seen by a wee one as by an adult. And as I had already violated the Great Oath by showing myself to Destiny’s teacher, the worst of the harm was done already.

  “Well, give it to me and I’ll make sure that he gets it,” Alex said.r />
  Destiny shook her head. “Teacher asked me to give it to him myself.”

  At that, I came out of the Pink Horror.

  Alex gasped when she saw me, but Destiny smiled and said, “See, I knew he was real!”

  Then she handed me the envelope.

  Printed on the front, in tiny handwriting, was Herbert the Brownie.

  Clearly the first thing I needed to do was get this name thing straightened out.

  “Well, go on! Open it!” said Alex.

  I ripped open the envelope.

  Inside was a carefully folded piece of paper.

  I took it out and unfolded it.

  “What does it say?” Alex demanded.

  Trembling a bit, I handed it to her.

  Monday, November 2 (part 2)

  After Alex read the note, I said, “What do you think I should do?”

  “I don’t know. You don’t think she’s some kind of brownie bounty hunter, do you?”

  Destiny spoke up. “Ms. Kincaid was very nice to me today. She said she was sorry for not believing me about Herbert.”

  “Actually, my name is Angus.”

  “Well, I know you’re not Herbert, silly. He’s a goblin!”

  “Do you want me to take you to school with me tomorrow?” asked Alex.

  “I think I should go. But I don’t want to spend the day in your backpack. I’ll ask Bubbles if he’s willing to give me a ride.”

  Alex looked at me in amazement. “Bubbles lets you ride him?”

  “Yes, but don’t say anything about it in front of him. He finds it embarrassing. Anyway, if he will bring me in the afternoon, you can meet me outside when school lets out, then carry me back in.”

  “All right, it’s a plan. But I think I should come to see Ms. Kincaid with you, just in case.”

  “In case what?”

  “In case she has any mischief in mind! You may be an awful pain, but I have no intention of letting her capture you or anything.”