A Dash of Trouble

by Anna Meriano

Leo didn’t want to write the labels for soup cans for the rest of her life!

  “Right.” Marisol stood up. “I wouldn’t have been any help with the magic stuff, but I can keep Mamá and Daddy busy while you work on it. Good luck, cucaracha. There’s the old hamster cage in my room if you need somewhere to keep your little friend.” She slipped out of the room before Brent could get out more than an outraged yelp.

  Leo heard Mamá, her footsteps clicking up the hall, stop to ask Marisol what was going on. “Isabel is a horrible brat and I hate her!” Marisol screamed in response. “And I don’t know why I even bother staying in this house when everyone would be happier if I just left! Maybe I’ll drop out of school and run away to New York and make a living as a street magician!”

  Mamá followed Marisol’s stomping back down the hall, away from Leo’s room. The soft tones of Mamá trying to calm Marisol and the sharp tones of Marisol refusing to be calmed continued, promising to keep attention away from Leo’s room. If she hadn’t known that it would ruin the act, Leo would have run down the hall to give Marisol a giant hug.

  Belén tried to stand, and swayed a little with one hand propping her against the bed. Alma, who was still twitchy but more stable, offered her twin an arm. “We’re going to go grab some ice cream,” she said, smiling while chewing on her lip. “And maybe more quesadillas. Or a cookie. Lots of cookies could be good. Do we have any more lemon bars?” Belén perked up at the mention of food, so Alma towed her twin toward the door. “I’m sorry we’re not being more help, but . . .”

  “You’re worn out.” Isabel shook her head. “You already helped so much. And you heard Abuela, anyway. Leo’s on her own.”

  “Yeah . . .” Alma reached up to flatten her already-flat pink bangs. “Leo, you’ve already done more complicated spells than Belén and I have. Don’t worry. We know you can do it.” Her fidgeting didn’t make her look entirely trustworthy, but Leo was glad for the kind words anyway.

  “Okay, little Leo,” Isabel said once the room emptied out. “Here we are again.”

  Leo remembered sitting in the bakery office, looking up at Isabel and hearing for the first time about magic and sweetness and brujas. The beautiful blizzard spell Isabel had shared. Leo wondered if Isabel regretted ever telling her anything at all.

  Even though everything had gotten so messy, Leo didn’t regret learning about magic. She only regretted not learning more, and now, hopefully, she would fix that. Leo took one deep breath and held it until her stomach stopped churning.

  “So I need to make an unraveling spell. And I have to do it on my own. But I don’t know how.”

  “I can help you with that. Mamá won’t let me practice them yet, but I did my own research on the theory of how it’s done.”

  Leo smiled. At least one sister understood Leo’s sneaky magic learning.

  Isabel read over the honey-jar recipe with Leo, explaining how each ingredient needed to be replaced with its magical opposite in order to make a working undo spell. It was a tricky task.

  “You had the right instincts with your first love potion, taking out the target so the spell would work more generally. But you also saw how a change like that could have unintended consequences.”

  Leo nodded, and gulped. There were so many different ingredients in the honey jar. If each one had a possibility of failing as badly as Leo’s other experiments, maybe this reversal spell wasn’t such a good idea.

  Brent had the same fear. “I don’t understand why you can’t just tell Leo which ingredients to use for the . . . process,” he gulped, apparently not quite willing to use the word “spell.” “Leo could still be the one to actually put it together, but why does she have to make up the whole thing?”

  “I just told you. Unraveling spells are finicky. The spell that shrank you was Leo’s—her mind, her magic, her mistakes. No reversal spell I invented, or even one Mamá or Abuela invented, would work perfectly.”

  But what was the opposite of honey? Or a spiderweb? Leo felt like her brain was being overkneaded until it was tough and flat and pummeled. “How can I pick? Everything could be wrong.”

  “It’s not about being right or wrong.” Isabel’s voice remained patient, even though her fingers kept tugging nervously at her ponytail. “It’s about making sense to you and your spell.”

  If Leo hadn’t been so grateful for her sister’s help, she might have been terribly annoyed.

  Leo decided on molasses to be the base ingredient for her opposite spell. Molasses was sweet and thick and would create a jar with a consistency like the original spell, but it was dark instead of light and man-made instead of natural, and it reminded Leo of winter instead of spring. Instead of a spiderweb, the spell would use a cut piece of the silk Leo had accidentally stolen from the cabinet—material made from insects, thin and shiny like a spiderweb, but coming from a protective cocoon instead of a misleading trap of a web. In place of candy hearts, Leo chose chocolate coins, because of their association with luck—Leo felt like this spell needed all the luck it could get. Finally, she decided to use leaves from the giant oak tree in their yard to replace the lilac bonsai leaves.

  She wrote it down on a sheet of notebook paper.

  LEO’S ANTI-SHRINKING JAR SPELL

  TO GROW A BOY NORMAL SIZED

  INGREDIENTS

  1 glass jar

  1 faucet of running water (for purification)

  molasses, enough to fill the jar

  silk cloth

  lucky chocolate coins

  leaves from a giant oak tree

  Isabel helped Leo sneak into the kitchen and gather her ingredients. Instead of using a candle, Leo washed the jar in the bathroom sink to get rid of the leftover honey and also to purify with water instead of fire. She blew into the jar, laid down the silk, poured the molasses, and dropped in the chocolate. She thought about freedom, about breaking down the old spell, about protecting Brent from all the out-of-control magic he’d had thrown at him.

  After consulting with Isabel, Leo also added a crumbled-up piece of a leftover Love Bite gingersnap, and a scrap of paper that Brent hesitantly wrote his name on with the smallest pencil Leo could find. This, Leo hoped, would erase the effects of the first love potion, if any were still lingering.

  There were only two steps left to the spell, both of which required leaving Leo’s room. But a bad feeling made her pause. She was missing something, she felt sure. Something was wrong.

  “You’re nervous. It makes sense. But we don’t have much time, Leo, so get out there.”

  The sun had fully set, and the moon peeked through the window behind the dollhouse. Marisol had resorted to muffled sobbing in the living room, and both Mamá and Daddy were focused on her supposed crisis, which Alma and Belén kept popping into Leo’s room to report on. Brent had fallen into a restless nap on the doll bed, and Señor Gato had given up trying to pounce on the visitor and resorted to hiding under the bed, watching the dollhouse, and meowing. The molasses jar sat on the floor in front of Leo’s bed. Things were not quite normal, but Leo couldn’t identify anything that should be making her feel so strongly that she was forgetting something.

  She only remembered when she turned her wandering gaze to her bookshelves.

  “Can you wait here, please?” she asked Isabel. “And watch everything? I just need five minutes. Also, can I borrow your cell phone?”

  Leo felt like an escaped prisoner as she crept across the hall to Isabel and Marisol’s room, where the cell phone was plugged in and placed neatly on the edge of Isabel’s carefully ordered desk. Leo woke it up, dialed the number ripped out of her notebook, listened as it rang.

  Caroline answered her phone with a cautious “Um, hello?”

  “It’s me,” Leo said. “I’m calling from Isabel’s phone.”

  “Leo!” Caroline’s voice morphed from soft to piercing. “What is going on? You hung up without telling me anything.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears rose in the back of Leo’s eyes. “I’m really
sorry. I—”

  “You know,” Caroline said, cutting Leo off, “you complain about your family not trusting you, about keeping secrets and lying. But from what I can tell, you’re the biggest liar of all!”

  Leo’s heart sank. “I . . . I know. You’re right, Caroline, but . . . Isabel’s helping me now. I asked her to help.”

  “Good,” Caroline snapped. “I told you to.” Her breath huffed and crackled through the phone. “Did . . . did she find a solution?”

  “We found something I can try,” Leo said, but her heart sank just thinking about the plan. “I don’t know if it will work, though. And I’ve messed everything up so badly so far, and . . .”

  Leo was afraid. She was afraid that she would never find a way to fix Brent. She was afraid of getting arrested and of Mamá being angry with her and of her sisters growing up and learning magic without her. She was afraid that, even if her unraveling spell worked perfectly, it was too late. She was afraid Caroline wouldn’t want to be her friend anymore, no matter what happened.

  “Hey.” Caroline’s voice came out softer after a long pause. “Leo, it’s okay. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

  Leo shook her head, even though her friend couldn’t see her. How could Caroline have any faith left in Leo after how horribly everything had gone?

  “I shouldn’t have called you a liar. And I know you can do this. Do you know why? Because you”— Caroline interrupted herself with a laugh—“you are the most talented witch I know.”

  Leo sniffed. “Because I’m the only witch you know, right?”

  Caroline laughed some more. Leo decided that her friend had cracked under the pressure of the past few days.

  “I’m sorry,” Leo said again. “I’m sorry for pulling you and Brent into this.”

  Caroline sighed. “I’m sorry for wanting to get pulled in. But you know what’s better than an apology? A solution.”

  “Okay.” Leo took a shaky breath. “I’m going to go try the spell now. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck, Leo,” Caroline said. “I really do believe in you.”

  Leo hung up the phone, feeling better in spite of the tears in her eyes. The bad feeling of forgetting something had disappeared, and Leo remembered that Caroline had been a part of the original spell. Even if she couldn’t be here helping with this opposite spell, at least she knew about it, and was wishing Leo luck. That had to count for something.

  Leo replaced Isabel’s phone and scurried down the hall toward the front door to get the final ingredient.

  CHAPTER 28

  UNRAVELING

  When Leo snuck out the front door, Marisol’s tirade showed no sign of ending. Leo made it outside and left the door ajar while she tiptoed across the dark lawn, moisture from the ground seeping into her socks.

  The tree in the middle of the yard spread tall and wide, with a trunk as big as a refrigerator and branches that shaded most of the house. If there was ever an opposite of a bonsai tree, this towering oak was it. The leaves weren’t changing colors yet (it usually took until almost Christmas for that), but Leo found a fallen leaf without too much trouble. She carried it inside, back to her room, where Isabel chatted with Brent, asking what his favorite classes were (science and English) and what he planned to do for Thanksgiving (visit his dad and stepfamily in Dallas).

  “There you are.” Isabel smiled at Leo, and her voice held the same pleasant tone she had used to talk to Brent, but from the way she pressed her lips together and tugged at the hem of her blouse, Leo knew her sister was nervous. “Did you get what you needed? Are you ready?”

  “I got it.” Leo thought of the phone call with Caroline more than the leaf she clutched to her chest. “Let’s go.”

  She dropped the oak leaf into the jar. Isabel plucked Brent out of the dollhouse and carried him to the bed.

  “Have either of you ever had to swim in something sticky?” Brent eyed the jar with a frown. Leo and Isabel shook their heads. “Well, it’s not fun. It feels horrible in your clothes.” He had changed back into his pajamas, still damp, and he shivered a little in his bare feet.

  “The sooner you’re big, the sooner you can get home to your mom,” Isabel reminded him.

  He nodded. “This had better work.”

  Amen, Leo thought, scrunching her eyes to send her prayer up faster. She tried to concentrate, to pour a little more magic into the molasses jar, to make it work. Everything counted on her doing this spell just right, and she was terrified.

  But then she remembered that Caroline believed in her, that Alma and Abuela believed in her, that Isabel and Marisol and Belén believed in her or they wouldn’t have been helping her out all night. And she managed a tiny smile, and a nod, and Brent let go of her finger and cannonballed straight into the molasses mixture.

  After two full seconds, Leo reached in and fished Brent out by the back of his T-shirt, set him on the washcloth that Isabel had laid out, and licked the molasses off the tips of her fingers. Brent swiped the dark syrup out of his closed eyes and away from his lips. Isabel sat like a statue, not even breathing.

  Leo gulped. “Why didn’t it—”

  With a noise like a firecracker, tiny Brent exploded up and out. The jar, which had been sitting just a few inches from him, rocketed away so hard it cracked against the wall, splitting into two pieces that dripped gooey molasses onto Leo’s pillow. But the mess didn’t bother Leo, because sitting in the middle of her bed, still covered with molasses and sputtering as he adjusted to the explosion, was Brent. Normal-sized Brent in normal-sized Spider-Man pajamas, wiping a normal-sized bucketful of molasses out of his hair.

  “That”—he blinked at Leo through molasses-sticky eyelashes—“was highly unscientific.” A giant grin spread across his face as he stretched his arms above his head and took stock of his back-to-normal body. “I guess you really are a witch.”

  “Actually,” said a voice from behind Leo, “she’s a bruja.”

  Mamá stood in the doorway, her face slowly shifting from worry to anger. Behind her, Daddy’s face was stuck in total shock. Marisol hung back, giving a helpless shrug. Leo gulped.

  “And this little bruja,” Mamá continued, “has a lot of explaining to do.”

  CHAPTER 29

  BRUJA

  The next hour felt like eating a slice of cake on a too-full stomach. Watching Brent smile into the phone, calling Caroline to share the good news, seeing Mrs. Bayman run from her car to hug her son without even noticing the leftover streaks of molasses rubbing off onto her clothes—the triumph of the moment was rich on Leo’s tongue. But behind her, Mamá fumed like a stomachache.

  They didn’t make any particular plan. Brent told his mom that he had snuck out and spent the day in the park, and that he had walked to Leo’s house because it was closer than home. Leo could see a hundred holes in that story—starting with the question of why Brent would sneak out in his pajamas with no shoes—but luckily Mrs. Bayman was too relieved and happy and angry to ask any more questions. Mamá didn’t talk much, but she did offer hot chocolate and gingersnaps to the Baymans. Brent, for maybe the first time ever, declined the cookies.

  Once Brent and his mom disappeared down the dark street, the house was too quiet. Leo shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for someone to say something. Instead, Daddy and Mamá moved slowly toward the kitchen, and Leo and her sisters trailed anxiously after them, settling into seats around the table without a word.

  Usually, Mamá’s anger came out through her mouth. When she got annoyed or disappointed, she might click her tongue, sigh, lecture, or just say Leo’s name in that defeated tone of voice that all moms seemed to practice. When she really lost her temper, like when Marisol snuck out of the house after being grounded, Mamá could yell louder and faster than anyone, never seeming to stop for breath. But now, when Leo had broken a hundred rules, had sneaked and lied and stolen and almost gotten herself arrested, Mamá was silent. Leo’s stomach twisted in knots.

  “Leo.” Daddy sat at
the head of the table, glancing every few seconds toward Mamá. “Did you steal ingredients from the bakery?”

  “Yes.” Leo’s voice came out as a whisper.

  “Did you steal ingredients to practice magic spells that you shouldn’t know anything about?”

  “Yes.”

  Around the kitchen table, Isabel picked away invisible bits of imperfection from her cuticles, and Marisol used her thumbnail to press crescent-moon-shaped scratches into the wooden tabletop. Alma and Belén, still exhausted from summoning Abuela, sipped mugs of hot chocolate and twitched their eyebrows at each other wearily. But no one’s silence was louder or more unsettling than Mamá’s.

  “And then you cast a spell—a spell you knew nothing about, a spell you knew you shouldn’t be messing with—on that boy from your class?” Daddy sighed. “I’m just trying to understand . . . why, Leo?”

  “I was—” Leo started.

  “It was my fault,” Isabel interrupted. “I was the one who told her about magic. I showed her spells.”

  “We encouraged her,” Alma added. “We knew she was making cookies for Brent and we asked her to report back to us. We basically told her to do it.” Belén nodded, and added, “We would have told her anyway if Isabel hadn’t. It’s not fair that everyone else knew and she didn’t.”

  “I didn’t stop her when I knew she was experimenting,” Marisol fessed up. “I told her to cut it out, but I didn’t do anything. It’s kind of an unfair rule, making everyone wait until they’re fifteen. We should get rid of that. Leo would make a better magic student than me, anyway—”

  Mamá stood up, her chair scraping against the linoleum floor, silencing the flood of defense. “Enough,” she said. “Leo, go get everything you stole. Bring it out to the car. You need to return the ingredients to the bakery, and we need to have a talk.” Marisol and Isabel started to stand up too, but Mamá stopped them with a look. “Alone.”

  They drove in Mamá’s minivan down the mostly empty streets of Rose Hill. Leo sat in the front seat with her backpack on her lap, packed full of the spell ingredients and the recipe book. The car stayed quiet, and the quiet was suffocating. Car rides with Daddy might include long stretches of silence, but Mamá usually chatted away. When Leo peeked sideways, her mother’s face was smooth and flat, and Leo couldn’t tell what thoughts hid behind it.