by A W Hartoin
We lay down on the cold granite when we finished, bloated and sleepy. Horc snored and began farting. The rest of us scooted away to a safe distance. Once we were out of firing range, Horc seemed to sense our absence and woke up.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes and glancing around until he’d spotted each one of us. I crawled over and patted his lumpy head. “We’re still here.”
“I need a bath,” he said.
“Yeah, you do,” said Gerald. “There’s water over there. I can smell it.”
Once Gerald pointed it out, I could smell the water, too. I patted Horc again, and then flew straight up, spinning slowly in the air. The water lay in a deep hole like a gigantic bowl. I swiveled again and made sure no humans were coming. I knew Iris or Gerald would warn me, but I felt better looking just the same. Then I floated down beside Horc and picked him up.
“Are you sure you really want a bath?” I asked. “All the stink your mother put on you will be gone.”
“I don’t need her stink. I’ve got you,” said Horc.
That’s when I knew I was stuck with Horc for life. I cringed when I thought about Mom and Dad’s faces when they saw him, all lumpy and weird. Still, it didn’t matter. Horc belonged with us.
“All right. If you’re sure,” I said, flying back up. I turned to tell Iris I’d be back, but Iris was on her feet, facing the other direction. She sniffed the air like one of the dogs and walked towards the container that the boy, Judd, had taken out of the metal box. The container had dozens of words written on the side, but I didn’t know what most of them meant. What in the world was L. Acidophilus or gluten?
“Where are you going?” I asked.
Iris didn’t answer. At least, I didn’t hear one, but that didn’t mean much. Iris flew up over the container and hovered above it. She spun around, said something, and clapped her hands. Then she lowered herself to land on a long metal stick that poked out of the top of the container. Her feet touched the metal. It wobbled for a second, and then the whole thing flipped over. The metal stick clattered against the stone and a spray of pink goo shot across the tabletop. I expected Iris to fly up with her hands over her mouth like she did when she was trouble, but she didn’t. I didn’t see her anywhere.
CHAPTER 16
THE container lay on its side. Pink gelatinous goo flowed out of the opening. Before I could react, Gerald made it to the container, he slipped and fell in the mess, his arms flailing. I plopped Horc on the stone and darted over, grabbing Gerald’s pink-coated arm. My hand slipped off and I tumbled backwards into the container, tripping over the metal stick that turned out to be a giant spoon. I stumbled back out, slipping and sliding, and found Gerald standing. He wiped the goo from his eyes and shook it from his fingertips.
“Where’s Iris?” he asked.
I whirled around until I spotted a tiny foot sticking out of a glob of jiggling pink goo. I shot to the foot, wrapped my hands around it, and yanked. Iris’s leg emerged, but the rest of her remained in the glob.
“Help me!”
Gerald fell beside me, face down in the goo. When he came up, he yelled, “I’ve got her dress. Pull!”
We hauled Iris out together. Gerald leapt to her face and cleared the pink stuff from her mouth. She gasped and he fell back with his hands over his eyes.
“What happened?” Iris asked.
“The container fell over and you got trapped in the mess,” I said.
Iris sat up. She held her dripping hands in front of her. “This is disgusting, but it tastes great.”
I bit my lip, but I couldn’t hold it in. Laughter bubbled up, overflowing my lips. Soon we both lay back in the goo, holding our aching stomachs and letting the laughter gush out of us.
Gerald stood up. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.”
Iris howled again. I contained myself for a moment, but the look of outrage on Gerald’s face wound me up and I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. I laughed until I thought my stomach would split right open. It felt wonderful, like flying without having to leave the ground.
“It’s not funny!” Gerald yelled. “Iris could’ve died!’
Iris sat up and hurled a glob of goo at Gerald. It struck him square in the chest. He stumbled back, mouth open in astonishment. For a second, I thought Iris had gone too far. Gerald might just lose it. Instead, he scooped up some goo of his own and slammed Iris in the face with it.
“Hey!” she yelled.
“You deserve it,” he said. “You scared me to death.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
Iris and Gerald dove at each other and fell into the goo. From the yelling, I suspected some biting might’ve been going on. I considered separating them, but it seemed easier, not to mention cleaner, to let them have it out. Horc sat down beside me, scooped up some pink stuff with both hands and shoved it in his mouth. His eyes glazed over and he shoveled it in.
“Slow down. You’ll make yourself sick,” I said.
Horc grunted and kept on shoveling. He ate so much his stomach expanded to previously unimagined proportions. I grabbed his hands and held them until he stopped struggling.
“Delicious,” he said.
“Better than stink bugs?” I asked.
“Better. But it doesn’t have that stink bug piquant aftertaste.”
“Bummer.”
“I want more.”
I stood up and put him on my hip. “No more. You might pop and that would be a worse mess than this.”
Horc smoothed his ecstatic expression and tried to look dignified. Pink goo ringed his mouth and there were splatters of the stuff all over him. I stifled a laugh and wondered what the other spriggans would think if they could see him now. Especially since the pink goo almost made him smell good, like strawberries.
Horc licked the back of his hand. “Easy wants you.”
I retrieved Easy from beside the bread and let him eat some of the pink stuff. He shoveled it in as fast as Horc.
“He wants to know what this stuff is,” said Horc.
I went to the other side of the container and read out loud “Low Fat Strawberry Yogurt.” Closer inspection of the ingredients revealed that yogurt was made of milk. Grandma Vi told me that humans drank cow’s milk and I’d been totally disgusted with the notion. But after having a taste of the yogurt, I had to admit they might be on to something.
“Yogurt.” Horc lay on his back while trying to lick his foot clean.
Easy chirped at Iris and Gerald, now crumpled in a heap next to him. They panted and occasionally poked at each other, but otherwise seemed spent. He slurped some of the yogurt off his hand and let out a chorus of chirps at me.
“Horc, what’s Easy going on about?” I asked.
“Yogurt. He says his mom knows how to make it,” said Horc.
I pushed a curl off Easy’s forehead and thought about his mother, the beautiful Mrs. Zamora. I couldn’t picture her doing anything as mundane as cooking. “Wait,” I said. “Your mother, Easy. Where’s your mother? I saw the blood. Did she fall out the window?”
Easy chirped at Horc, who looked bored while licking his other foot.
“Horc, what did he say?”
“I want some more yogurt. My foot tastes bad.”
“Well, stop licking it. Get back to Easy.”
“More yogurt,” Horc said.
“No more yogurt,” I said, pulling his foot away from his mouth. “I told you it will make you sick.”
“You don’t want me to be sick.”
“Of course not.”
Horc seemed to mull this information over, and then turned to look at Easy. “Easy says his mother didn’t want him to be sick either.”
“Why would she?”
“I don’t think my mother cared one way or the other,” said Horc.
I didn’t know what to say to that. It made sense. His mother gave him away. She probably didn’t care about him one way or the other.
“I suppo
se your mother cares if you’re sick?” asked Horc.
“Yes, she does,” I said. “Mom’s wonderful when we’re sick. She makes soup.”
“Interesting.” Horc pushed himself upright and touched my hand lightly. “Easy says his mother hit her head and fell out the window when the humans came.”
I gathered Easy in my arms and rocked him. I wished Mom had taught me how to make soup. Horc wormed his way into my arms. The babies glared at each other. Easy kicked Horc in the ribs and Horc returned the favor by yanking one of Easy’s curls.
“Enough, you two. Like we don’t have enough problems,” I said.
“He’s sticky,” said Horc with a scowl.
“You should talk,” I said. “You’re almost completely pink.”
“Easy says he wants a bath, please,” said Horc.
I set Easy down and stood up, struggling to keep a grip on the slimy Horc.
“Where are you going?” asked Iris.
“Horc and Easy want baths.”
“I would love a bath,” said Iris.
“Me, too,” said Gerald.
“There’s no escaping them,” said Horc.
“Or you,” I said, smiling.
I waited for Iris and Gerald to scrape some of the yogurt off their wings. Once they were able to fly, they picked up Easy and took off. They flew over the big bowl, wobbling and almost out of control with the extra weight on their wings. We floated down into the bowl, our eyes roving over the shiny white surface walls. Water dripped out of a silver spout positioned over the bowl and pooled at the bottom of a grey basin. The pool rippled with every drop and spread out onto the white surface of the bottom the way I imagined ocean waves did. I dipped my toe in the water and smiled.
“How is it?” Gerald stared up at the tall white walls, his eyes jumping all around as if expecting something to squash them flat.
“Not as cold as I would’ve expected.” I gave Horc a stern look. “You’re not going to pee or poop in the water, are you?”
Horc crossed his arms and turned up his nose. “I am not an animal.”
“You pooped on my mattress,” said Iris.
“That was to make a point.”
“What point was it?” asked Gerald. “That you’re gross?”
“Grossness is what makes a spriggan a spriggan,” said Horc.
“So you were just being gross?” I asked.
“I was being a spriggan.”
I dangled him over the water, letting his toes brush the surface. “So why wouldn’t you poop in the water? You’re still a spriggan.”
“I’ve decided not to be a spriggan anymore. That’s the difference. Now I’m ready for my bath.”
Gerald frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t matter what you decide. You’re still a spriggan.”
“Not true. I can be whatever I want, and I want to be a wood fairy. Bath, please.”
I held Horc up to eye level. “Did you say please?”
“Wood fairies say please,” he said.
“But you’re not a wood fairy,” said Gerald.
I took my favorite skirt off Horc’s bottom and turned to Gerald. “I suspect a lot of us aren’t exactly what we say we are. Let’s face it. I’m not a real babysitter. Horc isn’t a wood fairy and you’re not a Whipplethorn. Who cares? It doesn’t matter.”
Gerald clamped his mouth shut and stepped into the water with Iris. They held Easy by the arms and let him kick and splash. I put Horc in the water, keeping a close eye in case he let something nasty fly. But he didn’t and I let him sit next to Easy.
I waded in hip-deep, trailing my hands in the cool water. I splashed some on my face and slicked my hair back. I wondered what Mom and Dad were doing right then. Were they headed to the antique mall? An unwanted thought crept in. Could they possibly be waiting at Whipplethorn, hoping we’d find our way back? I didn’t think Mom and Dad would be so complaisant about us, especially Mom. She’d bite the head off a spriggan, if it stood between her and us. Still, they could be hurt like Mrs. Zamora.
Wherever Mom was, whatever she was doing, she’d want me to keep up her standards. She’d hate it if she knew what a mess we all were. I dipped my hair in the water and swished it around. The yogurt wasn’t coming off.
“Humans must have soap,” I said.
Iris splashed Gerald, who kicked a wave of water at her. She stood, gasping and dripping. Then she ran for him and chased him around the edge of the water. I reached out and grabbed her sleeve as she passed.
“Watch the babies,” I said.
I flew up to the top of the bowl and found a bottle with an iridescent orange drop on the tip of its spout. An experimental sniff confirmed that it was soap. It smelled like three dozen flowers were crammed into that small drop. Definitely not like any soap Mom made. I scooped some of the soap off the spout and floated down next to Horc.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Soap.”
He opened his mouth and waited. Iris and Gerald giggled. Horc closed his mouth and then spat at Easy.
“Hey,” I said. “We don’t spit.”
“He said I’m stupid. Can I bite him? Do wood fairies bite?”
“No biting and Easy stop calling Horc stupid.”
Iris picked Easy up and he buried his face in her neck.
“You hurt his feelings,” said Iris.
“Oh, for goodness sake.” I rolled my eyes and said to Horc, “This is soap. You wash with it. It’ll take your stink off.”
Horc took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
I washed him from top to bottom. When I was done, I sat him in a dry area and stepped back to get a look at the new Horc. He surprised me by being a totally different color. He wasn’t pretty by any means, but his new greenish-grey color reminded me of moss in the forest.
Iris got some soap, washed Easy, and then put him next to Horc with a reminder to be nice. Then Iris, Gerald, and I dove into the center of the pool. We flipped in the water, doing handstands with only our toes above the surface. Soon a layer of pink scum floated on the top of the water. Gerald retrieved some soap, the last bit on the spout, and shared it with me and Iris. We scrubbed our skin pink as the yogurt. Then we swam to the opposite edge of the pool to rinse ourselves in the only clear water left.
When I finished, I wrung out my clothes the best I could. The wood pattern painted on by the dryads became dull and muddied. The beautiful decorations that had once identified me as Soren Maple’s friend went too easily.
“I guess we better get back to the mantel and start cleaning up,” I said.
“No kidding,” said Gerald, cocking his head to the side. “The humans are back and there are more of them this time.”
I looked up, half expecting to see a crowd of humans around the bowl. But there wasn’t and for all I knew they were in another room or even outside. I turned to Iris for confirmation.
Iris’s brow furrowed. She spread her wings, drops of water flung off the tips, and she scooped up Easy. “They’re already in. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention again.”
Gerald shifted some of Easy’s weight over to himself. “That’s okay. I was.”
I picked up Horc and led the way out of the bowl. When we emerged, we found a human, a man, standing above us. His hand shot out toward the spout, grazing me and Horc. We tumbled down into the bowl as a torrent of water rushed in.
A wave covered my head. I slammed against the side of the bowl and realized my arms were empty. I’d lost Horc. I kicked and got my head above the water. The spout above me poured a waterfall into the bowl.
“Horc!” I screamed.
The man’s hand came down into the bowl. It pulled the grey metal basin out of the bowl’s bottom. The second he lifted the basin, the water started draining out. A brown lump bobbed in the water on the opposite side of the bowl. I kicked off the wall and swam toward Horc. Dad’s hated swimming tips bounced around in my head. I didn’t get far before the current swept me away. I didn’t fight
it. I swam toward Horc. His back floated above the water as he bobbed around in a quiet corner.
The current drew me toward the center of the bowl. The water was going down into a vortex. The sight spurred me on, my legs pumping madly. The current caught Horc and thrust him into the same stream as me. Instinct kicked in. I spread my wings and used them to propel me through the water, but the extra boost gave me too much momentum. I rushed past Horc, grabbing his arm at the last second. I pulled him to my chest and his arms went around my neck. I changed my trajectory to the edge of the current. The far reaches of the bowl’s bottom were already dry. If I could swim through the current, we might have a chance.
My wings seemed to be made for swimming and I went with it. I gave up using my free arm and put everything I had into my wings. My foot brushed the bottom, but the current kept at me. I was tiring. The vortex got closer as my wings beat the water slower. I couldn’t do it. I tucked myself around Horc. Maybe we had a chance to get down the hole in one piece.
Something yanked my head backwards. My body began to drag in the current. I opened my eyes. I saw nothing but the swirling vortex, gaping and hungry for us. We didn’t move away from the hole, but stayed in place. The water rushed past and in a massive, quick movement it vanished down the hole and was gone.
I dropped to the bottom of the bowl, landing painfully on my rear. I gasped and fell over. Horc clutched my neck, let go, and then clutched it again like he was having some sort of spasm.
“Matilda, can you hear me? Matilda!” Iris’s voice seemed far away, but I could feel her breath on my ear.
Iris rolled me over and pulled the tangled hair out of my face. “Matilda, say something.”
“You pulled my hair.”
Tears burst from Iris’s eyes. She covered her face and rocked backwards. Gerald came into view. “We both pulled your hair. There wasn’t anything else to grab. Your wings were too slick.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” said Gerald.
“I’ve never heard you say that before.”
Gerald peeled my arms off Horc and lifted him off my chest. “What?”
“You’re welcome.”
