Keep Calm and Sparkle On!

by Sarah Aronson

  “And the rest was easy peasy, lemon squeezy,” Fawn and Angelica said together.

  Zahara nodded. “Without requiring another sparkle, the shoe led the king on a long search for its owner. Eventually, he arrived at the lovely girl’s home. By then, she had done even more chores and become very wise. So when they met, she was ready to be queen. They fell in love and lived happily ever after.”

  It was hard holding a grudge when the stories were this mushy. But Isabelle still didn’t get it. “How can a wish be selfless? Won’t princesses complain if we make them work too hard?”

  Zahara popped out of her chair. “Haven’t you heard a word I said? In today’s world, our princesses need to be strong. And smart. And powerful. They need a chance to show us what they’re made of.”

  When everyone started talking at once, Luciana raised her wand. “Trainees, now you know why we invited Zahara to join us for Level Two training. We are going to ask you not just to be sweet and nice and full of gusto, but also brilliant and gritty and more determined than you ever imagined. Happily ever after will always be the last line of every great story, but it’s rarely easy to attain! That’s why, in Level Two, your tasks will be complicated. And so will your princesses!”

  When she put down her wand, Isabelle hoped that meant a break. She wanted to go home and talk to Grandmomma. She had a million questions. Plus she was exhausted.

  But it wasn’t time to take a break—not by a long shot.

  It was time for official training to begin.

  To warm up, Raine asked the trainees to run around a bunch of cones (to test their endurance). Then Kaminari led them in a ballet class (to teach them grace). These were the same tasks they’d done in Level One, but this time, they ran while carrying stacks of old editions of the Official Rule Book for Fairy Godmothers. They practiced ballet on ice.

  In other words, it was a lot harder.

  When they were done, they were not allowed to rest. Instead, Zahara told them to stand close together. She wanted them to do something new. She called it a human knot.

  “With your right hand, find someone’s hand and hold tight,” Zahara instructed them.

  Then they all had to do the same thing with their left hands. And then they had to untangle themselves. It wasn’t easy. Someone smelled funny (probably Isabelle—since she hadn’t had time to shower). And Minerva kept stepping on Isabelle’s foot.

  When they were done, Zahara asked them what they had learned.

  Angelica raised her hand first. “To work together.”

  “And to listen,” Fawn added. “Because we know that’s always the first step toward happily ever after.”

  Zahara yawned, like those were the most boring answers ever.

  “What about you, Isabelle?” she asked. “What did you learn?”

  Isabelle remembered all the things she’d learned from Nora. “I learned that there is always a way out, even when it looks hopeless. And that you just have to keep trying and maybe also give up a little bit so that you can get where you want to go.”

  For a moment, no one said anything. (It wasn’t every day that Isabelle answered a question correctly.)

  “I guess I understand mistakes better than the rest of you!” Isabelle said with a shrug.

  When Zahara had stopped laughing, she gave Isabelle a piece of dark chocolate with a cherry inside. (It was delicious.) Then she pointed to the window so everyone could see it was getting dark. As Zahara explained, this meant things were about to get “interesting.”

  The Worsts chuckled. Isabelle yawned. She was really tired.

  “What do you mean, interesting?” she asked.

  Zahara asked them to turn to Section Six of the rule book on the advantages of granting wishes in the dark.

  “In the history of fairy godmothers and their princesses, a lot of great magic is made when no one can see what you’re doing,” she said with a crooked smile.

  When they were done reading the entire chapter, Luciana flicked her wand and six large crates appeared—one for each trainee.

  “That’s why your first big assignment will be tonight,” Luciana explained.

  Isabelle raised her hand. “Are we going to get some sparkles?”

  “One sparkle,” Kaminari said. “We want to see what you can do in the garden.”

  This was a big letdown, until Raine reminded them that gardens, like the woods and other natural habitats, were fruitful (pun intended) settings for wish fulfillment. Raine also explained that many fairy godmothers are gardeners because, in a pinch, flowers, fruits, and vegetables could be used in a variety of wishes and charms.

  Kaminari gave each trainee a handful of mismatched seeds and a small velvet bag.

  Inside the bag was a strange-looking sparkle. To be honest, it was actually really ugly compared to regular sparkles. It was gray and not very sparkly, like a misshapen piece of salt.

  “This sparkle isn’t just any sparkle,” Luciana told the trainees. “It’s a raw sparkle. You should be honored!” According to Clotilda, raw sparkles were as powerful as the refined sparkles fairy godmothers usually worked with, but they were unprocessed. (Later, Minerva would tell Isabelle this wasn’t exactly true. She thought raw sparkles were sparkles that had been discarded. Grade Two. Maybe even recalled. In other words, they weren’t as good. But Isabelle had no idea who was right.)

  But for now, the trainees all smiled. Kaminari assigned them each a crate full of tools. Then she told them that in the morning, the Bests and Zahara would return to see what each trainee had done.

  “But what are we supposed to do?” Isabelle said. The official gardens were at least two miles away. And those crates looked heavy. She looked at her handful of seeds. She couldn’t tell if they were fruits or flowers or weeds.

  Angelica rolled her eyes. “I think the whole point is to figure it out ourselves.”

  Luciana agreed. “Angelica is right.” She gave Angelica a hunk of chocolate laced with caramel. Then all the Bests walked out the door and the trainees got to work.

  First things first. Isabelle picked up the box of tools, and as she suspected, it was both heavy and clunky. She thought about using her sparkle to transport herself and everything else to the garden, but that seemed lazy. Besides, no one else was doing that. They all looked busy. Like they knew just what to do.

  So she put the seeds and the sparkle in her backpack, picked up the crate, and started walking to the garden.

  No sooner had Isabelle left than it began to rain. It wasn’t just a light drizzle, either—this was the kind of rain that often happens when a witch or mean sister wants to make things tough on a princess. In other words, it was a cold, hard rain. With wind and an occasional bolt of lightning. As Isabelle walked through some trees and down a dirt path and up a few small hills to the Official Fairy Godmother Garden, she became more and more miserable. A few times, she slipped and fell. She skinned both her knees. She dropped a few seeds. To be honest, she was a little bit scared. Her crate began to fall apart. She couldn’t see where she was going. Her glasses were useless!

  Even worse, by the time Isabelle got there, all the other trainees were already there, and they didn’t look tired or wet or scared. In fact, Fawn and Angelica seemed to be finishing up, and they were working under what looked like a giant yellow-and-white umbrella that glowed and protected them like their very own sun. The Worsts looked almost done, too (although their umbrella was plain). Isabelle met Minerva at a scarecrow in an old-fashioned red ball gown—her design. “How did everyone get here so fast?”

  “The three of us decided to work together,” Minerva said a little sheepishly. “So I used my sparkle for travel—and this gal.” She patted the scarecrow on the shoulder. “Irene is using hers for planting. And MaryEllen made the umbrella.” She gave Isabelle’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Don’t be mad. It was the only way. We’re too old for all this walking.”

  Isabelle wasn’t mad, but she did feel left out. Working together had been a good idea.
It was obviously what Angelica and Fawn were doing, too. Without her. On purpose.

  Minerva said, “You know, if you run into trouble, break your sparkle in half. They’re so brittle, you can crack them with your teeth. You want to try it?”

  Isabelle shook her head no. “Not now. No thanks.” She didn’t want help. She didn’t want apologies. Instead, she sat down and waited until all of them were gone. Then she looked up at the sky. For a moment, through the clouds, she could see one bright, twinkling star.

  For that moment, it felt like she wasn’t alone. It felt like someone was watching. Maybe even her mother.

  Very quickly, Isabelle dug a hole and threw the few seeds she could find into it. And then, because she didn’t know what else to do, she threw the sparkle in, too. Then she lay on the ground and watched that star twinkle until accidentally, she fell asleep.

  When Isabelle woke up, the sun was bright. Angelica, Fawn, the Worsts, and the Bests all stood over her.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” they shouted together.

  Isabelle stood up and brushed herself off. Then she turned around. She couldn’t believe what the sparkles had done to the garden.

  In one corner, next to the overdressed scarecrow, there was a perfectly round rosebush with one perfect, thorny rose peeking up through the top. In the other corner, there was a star-shaped plot of exotic plants and blossoms. And in the middle of the garden stood a gigantic, gnarly tree covered with pink blossoms.

  It was the kind of gigantic, gnarly tree that often shows up in magical stories—the kind that sometimes comes to life.

  When the wind blew, the blossoms gently fell to the ground. They looked like one of Clotilda’s skirts—beautiful and colorful and just plain princess-ready.

  “That is amazing,” Isabelle told Angelica. She assumed the tree was Angelica’s creation. She also assumed that Angelica, like Clotilda, liked flattery.

  But apparently she didn’t.

  “Why are you trying to embarrass me?” Angelica said. Then the shocker: “You know that tree isn’t mine.”

  Isabelle was confused. “But if it isn’t yours, whose is it?”

  Clotilda jabbed Isabelle in the side, then gave her a big hug.

  “Wait a minute,” Isabelle said. “It’s mine?”

  Luciana, Raine, and Kaminari congratulated Isabelle.

  “When did you decide to bury your sparkle?” Raine asked.

  Isabelle stood there in disbelief. Angelica rolled her eyes. Then she whispered loudly to Fawn so everyone could hear, “I bet she dropped that sparkle in the hole by mistake.” She told Luciana, “She didn’t even know she could break it in half.”

  Isabelle hung her head and stared at the pink petals that skimmed the ground thanks to a light breeze. This was not going well at all. She was pretty sure Angelica and Fawn were never going to be her friends.

  Clotilda gave her an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you tell us what you did?”

  “Angelica’s right,” Isabelle said. “I didn’t know I could work in groups. I didn’t know I could break the sparkle in half. By the time I got here, it was late and I was tired, and I was 99.9 percent sure I was going to fail. So I threw the sparkle in the hole. Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. The other gardens are so much better.”

  She waited for Luciana to declare her the worst. But instead, Zahara clapped her hands. “Your choices may not have been the savviest, but you followed through with fortitude. And that’s why you get first prize. Keep this up, Isabelle. If you do, you’ll become a fine fairy godmother.”

  Isabelle should have felt great. She should have smiled and said thank you. But the truth was, she felt sad. A gnarly tree was pretty amazing, but it had been a complete mistake! Plus, Angelica looked furious. And Fawn seemed annoyed. All the way back to the center, they ranted about luck and the law of averages and the power of a whole raw sparkle. In their opinion, Isabelle was here because of Clotilda and Grandmomma. She didn’t think things through. Even the worst fairy godmother got lucky once in a while.

  By the time they returned to the center, Isabelle’s confidence was shot. She hoped Luciana would let them go home. She wanted to go back to see the girlgoyles. And talk it out with Clotilda. And she really wanted to take a nap.

  But Luciana had more for the trainees to do. “For your next task, you’ll work in teams.” She paired Minerva and Fawn with Kaminari, Irene and MaryEllen with Clotilda, and Angelica and Isabelle with Raine.

  Raine placed a rose hip and four tiny raw sparkles in front of Angelica and Isabelle. The sparkles were the size of flecks of dust. They looked like they’d gone through a grinder.

  Raine told them, “Work together to make your rose grow as tall and as straight as possible.”

  Angelica picked up the hip. She had perfect posture, like the tallest, strongest tree. “Are you sure you can do this?” she asked Isabelle in a way that said she didn’t think Isabelle could.

  Isabelle knew this was her chance to prove she could be a good friend. “Actually, I’m sort of tired. Why don’t you take three sparkles, since you’re so much stronger than me. Then we’ll be the best. Luciana will be impressed. I promise, I’ll give you all the credit.” Isabelle was sure that if they were the best, Angelica and Fawn would forgive her. And maybe even like her more.

  Fawn and Minerva went first. They stood up together, arms linked, wands pointed toward their hip. Together they tap, tap, tapped their wands in perfect unison. And right away, a rose bloomed. Kaminari held it to her nose. “Lovely,” she said. “And only three thorns.”

  Irene and MaryEllen also linked arms, but they stayed seated. Tap, tap, tap! Their rose didn’t grow quite as tall or straight as Fawn and Minerva’s, but it was a little bit redder and grew only two thorns. Clotilda was particularly impressed. “Good concentration. You ladies are really feeling it.”

  Last, it was Isabelle and Angelica’s turn. They stood up together, but when Isabelle tried to link arms with Angelica, her arms stayed stiff. When she held up her wand, Angelica whispered, “Don’t mess this up. Or else!”

  Threats like that only make fairy godmothers (and regular people) nervous.

  In other words, Isabelle messed everything up.

  First she dropped her wand. Then she held the wrong end up. When she said she was ready, she really wasn’t.

  Tap, tap, tap. Angelica’s wand was faster than lightning. Isabelle’s wasn’t quite that fast, so her taps lagged a half a tap behind. Isabelle hoped it didn’t matter. She hoped their red rose would be perfect and then they could all go home and maybe she could invite Angelica and Fawn to the castle for cupcakes, since it was a proven fact of fairy godmother life that snacks sealed friendships faster than anything else.

  At first, the rose grew like all the others. Straight and strong. A thorn here and there. But when the petals began to bloom, they were too heavy. They drooped immediately. One petal even looked a little brown near the edges.

  Raine plucked the dying petal off to make the rose look better. She examined it from all angles. “On the plus side, it’s very mature.”

  Isabelle knew that there was no plus side to mature. Very mature was just a nice way of saying old or stale or unacceptable or bad. Isabelle took the blame. “It’s my fault, Raine. Sorry, Angelica. My wand work is too slow.”

  Isabelle hoped Angelica would accept her apology, but instead, she threw Isabelle under the bus. “It was more than her wand speed,” Angelica said meanly. “Isabelle insisted I use most of the sparkles. It was really hard to work with her.”

  Now everyone was looking at Isabelle and shaking their heads, as if she had made Angelica fail on purpose.

  “Can Angelica try it one more time?” Isabelle asked Luciana. She was willing to beg if she had to. “Without me?”

  Luciana looked angry. “No, she can’t try it again because that would be wasting sparkles. And under the circumstances, we are not going to do that.” Then she dismissed the group and puff—disappeared in a cloud
of sparkle dust.

  Raine walked to the front of the room. “Well, you heard Luciana. See you tomorrow.”

  After the Bests were gone, Angelica and Fawn packed up their stuff and strutted toward the door. “Wait!” Isabelle said.

  Fawn turned around. “For you? No thank you.” She linked arms with Angelica and they walked out the door, noses and wands high (even though their wands didn’t hold any sparkles).

  Isabelle flopped down into her chair. She put her head on her desk and let the Worsts console her.

  Minerva assured Isabelle that the day hadn’t been a complete disaster. “What about that tree? You did a great job with that.”

  Irene and MaryEllen agreed. “And your rose was quite nice, too.”

  Isabelle was pretty sure the rose had been a total disaster. “Angelica and Fawn didn’t think so,” she said. “And please don’t tell me Angelica’s jealous—or that she must be hurting, too.” (In the fairy godmother world, like the regular one, the regular excuses rarely felt authentic.)

  So the Worsts said other unhelpful things like, “Tomorrow’s a new day,” and “Nothing is set in stone,” and “We’re all under a great deal of pressure.”

  “Why don’t you go home and talk to your grandmomma?” Minerva said. “I heard she isn’t leaving until tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll know exactly what to do.”

  Leaving? Isabelle’s face flushed. Her whole body felt hot and cold at once. Where was Grandmomma going? And why?

  Isabelle ran back to the castle as fast as she could. It was bad enough that her mother wasn’t here. Grandmomma couldn’t leave, too.

  Isabelle didn’t even bother to take off her dirty shoes before she ran up the stairs and across the red rug to the end of the hall. Without hesitating, she banged on the brass lion knocker on Grandmomma’s office door. The lion looked like it was growling at her. Like she was way too late. Or like it didn’t want to be disturbed.

  But Isabelle didn’t know what else to do or where else to look, so she knocked again. And then again.