Witch Twins at Camp Bliss

by Adele Griffin

Movie equipment was set up everywhere. Sawhorses and plastic cones blocked off Pine Street’s entrance. Lights, cameras, and folding chairs cluttered its edges. Movie extras in wool sweaters and long pants sat around looking hot and bored. Other men and women in jeans and black T-shirts darted around, speaking on headsets. A crew of T-shirted people was hard at work, sponge-painting red and orange and yellow fall colors onto flat cookie pans of ordinary brown leaves.

  “Hey, that looks fun. I bet they’ll let me help!” And Justin shot off to pester the painters.

  “Yoo-hoo! Gals!” Fluffy waved from behind the snack table that was set up near a big steel trailer.

  Fluffy looked extra sparkly today, Claire noticed. Her denim maternity shirt was studded with jeweled pins shaped like fruit and flowers. Privately, Claire thought it looked like Fluffy had decorated herself with refrigerator magnets.

  “Melody is inside, preparing for her next scene,” said Fluffy, pointing to the trailer. “She’ll be out in a jiffy-pop. I told her all about you two! Ooh, there’s Bernardo, the photographer. Howdy, Bern!” Fluffy wriggled her fingers at a skinny bald man who was walking around, aiming and snapping from the large zoom lens camera that hung around his neck.

  “You’ve already met Melody?” Claire squealed. “What’s she like? Is she nice? Is she tall or small? Does she look like a big-headed Martian?”

  “Naw, sugar, she’s just a normal gal,” Fluffy answered. “Take a seat, and she’ll be out soon.”

  “Does my headband look okay?” Luna whispered as the girls sat in the folding chairs that Fluffy indicated.

  “It hides your nice new haircut I gave you, if that’s what you meant,” Claire answered, “plus it shows off your pumpkin forehead.”

  “If I have a pumpkin forehead, that means you have one, too, dummy,” Luna retorted.

  “Hush, y’all.” Fluffy handed the twins each a cup of apple juice and a napkin of graham crackers from the snack table. “Melody will be with us any minute,” she said, “so well just stay put.”

  Claire and Luna fell silent. They munched down their crackers and drank their apple juice and stayed put.

  And stayed put.

  And stayed put some more.

  “Look, Justin is painting leaves.” Luna pointed to their brother, who was huddled with the crew, a sponge brush in his hand. “I want to paint, too! Are movie sets always this boring? And where is Melody?”

  “Oh, don’t be so impetuous,” said Claire. “Movie stars are known to be temperamental.”

  “If you keep using those words,” warned Luna, “Melody will think you’re a know-it-all nerdburger.”

  “She will not!”

  “Will, too!”

  “Will not, double cross my fingers.”

  “Will too, no crossies count.”

  “Gals, hush!” Fluffy scolded.

  Right then, the door to the trailer opened. Claire jumped from her chair and smiled the warmest-blooded smile that she could muster. Ever since last weekend when she had changed into a salamander, Claire had worried that her human self was cold-blooded as an amphibian. So she had been practicing her warm-blooded smiling.

  Now her smile widened. Yes, it was Melody Malady, all right. Wow! And she was walking down the steps directly toward them!

  Claire could not wait. She sprinted across the set. “Hi, Melody! My name’s Claire Bundkin, and I just want to say that I’m your biggest fan. I think The Melody Malady Show is the best thing on television after Galaxy Murk!”

  Melody smiled as she shook Claire’s hand. “Well, thanks!” she said. “I love Galaxy Murk too. Captain Xeno is so cute. Once I got to go on set and sit in his Solar Excelsior. And guess what’s inside the space-control compartments? Makeup and hair spray, for his emergency beauty touch-ups!” Melody threw back her head and laughed her throaty, famous laugh.

  Claire laughed along in a happy Claire laugh of her own. Was it really possible that Melody Malady was even nicer in person than on television? Amazing!

  “What’s so funny?” A girl had crept up next to Claire and Melody and was eyeing them suspiciously. She was dressed in cargo shorts and a camouflage vest that was weighted with bulging pockets. Her arms and legs were scabbed and bug-bitten. In one hand, she was carrying a small curved chisel.

  The smile dropped off Melody’s face. “Claire,” she said, “this is my sister, Dolores.”

  “Greetings,” said Dolores, waving her chisel. “I’m Dolores Gologly. Gologly is our family’s real last name. It’s of Irish descent. As you might have guessed, Malady is a fake stage name of no descent.”

  “Be quiet, Dolores,” said Melody.

  “Hi.” Claire shook Dolores’s free hand, which squeezed back in a granite grip. She turned to Melody. “Cheese and chips! I didn’t know you had a sister!”

  “We’re more than sisters. We’re twins,” said Dolores.

  “Twins!” Claire was dumbfounded.

  “Melody is the public, artistic twin and I’m the private, academic twin,” said Dolores.

  “Dolores, get lost,” said Melody. “Go be the silent, invisible twin.”

  “My twin sister is here, too.” Claire looked around. Luna was standing by the snack table, picking grapes out of the fruit salad. “Loon!” she shouted.

  Luna approached slowly. Claire made introductions. “Luna loves your show, too!” Claire piped up when Luna forgot to compliment it.

  “Really?” Melody smiled. Her teeth were pearly white and perfect.

  Luna touched her headband. “Mmm-hmm,” she said. She looked over at Dolores. “Whatcha got in your vest pockets?”

  “Rocks,” Dolores answered. “I collect them. That’s why I’m here on this boring movie set, instead of back in Bethesda, Maryland, where we live. The outlying region of Philadelphia is a rich rock resource. If I can get samples of—”

  “Don’t bore us, Dolores!” snapped Melody. “Aren’t we ready for photos or something?”

  “Howdy, Melody! I see you’ve met my twin stepdaughters.” Fluffy had appeared with Bernardo the photographer at her side. Every pin on her shirt flashed and glinted in the sun. Claire felt her cheeks flush. Why did Fluffy have to look so over-sparkly on this important Melody-meeting day?

  “Dolores, go back to the trailer with Dad,” Melody instructed. “My sister is always underfoot,” she explained to Fluffy. “I guess I could get my dad to take her back to the motel.”

  “Naw, honey, she can stay on set if she wants,” said Fluffy. “Maybe well do a different spin on the photo shoot. About two sets of twins and—”

  “No!” Melody’s own cheeks flushed. “Go on, Dolores.” Now Melody shoved Dolores semi-gently.

  “I didn’t want my picture taken, anyhow,” said Dolores calmly. “The Fijians believe that the photographic image robs your soul.” Turning to Luna, she explained, “See, I’m the academic twin and Melody is the artistic—”

  “Beat it!” Melody stamped her foot.

  Dolores sighed, turned, and stomped off.

  Poor Dolores! thought Claire as she watched her retreat to the trailer. Imagine how awful it would be to have beautiful and talented Melody Malady for a sister, when all you’ve got is scabby knees and a vest full of rocks.

  It was time for photos. First, Melody’s stylist, a guy named Jake, appeared. He combed and spritzed both twins’ hair, smoothing Luna’s more tightly into its headband. “That haircut’ll grow out in no time,” Claire heard him whisper to Luna.

  Next, Jake spent fifteen minutes taking care of Melody so that every eyelash was in place.

  Finally, Bernardo snapped some photographs of Melody with Claire and Luna. He asked them to pretend that they were meeting Melody all over again.

  Claire pumped Melody’s hand and gave her warmest-blooded smile.

  Luna’s smile was not quite as warm.

  Bernardo clicked and clicked and said, “Fantastic-o, perfect-o!” until he ran out of film.

  “Bernie, you’re great-o! We’ve got enough for a
darlin’ magazine piece,” drawled Fluffy.

  “I’m hungry,” said Melody. “Is my lunch ready?”

  “Sorry, Mel,” said Bernardo. “Willa says we’re about to begin filming.”

  Melody looked sad. She turned to Claire. “Willa is the movie director, and her word is law. Hey, do you want to hang around and watch?” She looked over at Luna. “You, too, Uma.”

  “Luna,” corrected Luna.

  “Wow! I’d love to watch!” said Claire.

  “It’s too hot to be outside,” Luna protested.

  Melody pressed a finger to her chin. “You can stay in the trailer with Dolores if you want,” she suggested. “It has air-conditioning.”

  “Okay.” Luna said, and walked off.

  Claire was aghast. Was Luna crazy? How could she pass up an opportunity to watch a movie being filmed? Crumbs, it wasn’t that hot!

  Or maybe Claire could take the sun better? Like a salamander that breathed through its skin, maintaining a comfortable moisture level in spite of the heat. (The other night, Claire had done some research about salamanders. She found out they had some unusual habits, such as skin breathing.)

  “I don’t think it’s too hot, Melody,” she said.

  “Great!” Melody tugged Claire’s arm. “Let’s go find you a seat.”

  Melody might be a big Hollywood star, thought Claire, but she was also sooo down to earth. From Jake the stylist to Dina the gaffer to Jorge the key grip, Melody had a smile and kind word for everybody.

  That’s how I’d be, too, if I were a movie star, Claire decided.

  Melody found Claire a seat on one of the high-angle camera stools. Claire climbed up and watched as Willa ordered everyone to places and asked for quiet on the set. In the scene being filmed that day, all Melody had to do was walk across the street and bump into a man exiting a building.

  “Take one!” shouted Willa through her megaphone. Then, “Take two! Take three!”

  Melody was wearing winter clothes that must have made her very uncomfortable, but she never complained. She walked and bumped, walked and bumped. Chin in her hands, Claire watched and watched. She could not believe Luna was missing all this action.

  After nineteen takes, Willa called, “Okay, that’s a wrap. Be back here in two hours.”

  A few people clapped, relieved. Then Melody took Willa aside and spoke with her, pointing at Claire all the while. Finally, Willa looked over and nodded.

  Smiling, Melody ran to Claire.

  “Guess what? Willa said a small part could be written into the movie. A part just for you,” Melody told her. “Come back tomorrow, Claire, and you can be on the other side of the camera. With me.”

  “Wow, thanks, Melody!” Claire jumped off her seat and began to hop around from excitement.

  Melody Malady, television star, movie star, and now, Claire’s costar!

  This summer kept getting better and better!

  A Personal History by Adele Griffin

  I was born in 1970 in my mother’s hometown of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I was the oldest of three children, and spent my early childhood as a “military brat,” moving between bases in North Carolina, California, Panama, and Rhode Island. I returned to Pennsylvania for high school, and then attended college at the University of Pennsylvania. After earning a bachelor of arts and sciences degree in 1993, I eagerly answered a “help wanted” ad in the New York Times and an “apartment rentals” ad in the Village Voice. That same week, I secured both my first job and my first apartment. I began working for Macmillan Children’s Books as an editorial assistant; living two blocks away from the office ensured that I didn’t get lost on my commute.

  While balancing days working in the editorial department with nights writing fiction, I discovered my abiding love of New York City, and knew that I would want to live there for the long haul. At Macmillan, and later Hyperion Books for Children, I read old favorites and new favorite fiction for younger readers, and in doing so rediscovered classic stories that had been so riveting in my youth. I was particularly enthralled to connect with Robert Cormier, an author whose work I idolized when I was a child—years later, I got to spend a day with him at Simmons College. It wasn’t long before I completed my first novel, Rainy Season (1996), which was accepted by Houghton Mifflin & Co. A semi-autobiographical account of family life on an army base in Panama, the book was recommended by Publishers Weekly as a “Flying Start” notable debut. My second book, Split Just Right (1997), told the story of a bohemian single mother raising her daughter. My third book, Sons of Liberty, a drama set in New England that addressed child abuse, was nominated for the National Book Award in 1997. I followed this novel with a contemporary supernatural story, The Other Shepards (1998), and then Dive (1999), a novel that grappled with the real-life unexpected death of my stepbrother, Jason.

  Turning to more lighthearted fare, I created a middle-grade series, Witch Twins, about identical twins living in Philadelphia (based on my nieces) who work to become “five-star” witches—with some help from their eccentric, spell-casting grandmother. The four-book series includes Witch Twins, Witch Twins at Camp Bliss, Witch Twins and Melody Malady, and Witch Twins and the Ghost of Glenn Bly. I also completed Amandine (2001), a novel loosely based on Lillian Hellman’s chilling play The Children’s Hour. Themes of friendship, deceit, and betrayal surfaced again in my next book, Overnight (2003), about a sleepover that goes horribly wrong.

  In Hannah, Divided (2002), I tried my hand at historical fiction, crafting a story of a young math prodigy living in 1930s rural Pennsylvania, who then wins a scholarship to study in Philadelphia. In 2010, I returned to the genre with Picture the Dead, collaborating with my friend Lisa Brown, an author and illustrator, on an illustrated novel about Spiritualist photographers in the Civil War era.

  In 2005, I received another National Book Award nomination for Where I Want to Be, a family-centered psychological drama with paranormal elements. The following year, I published a light, young adult romance titled My Almost Epic Summer. I also launched another middle grade series; this one, Vampire Island Stories, is about a family of vegan vampires living in New York City.

  Family plays an important role in my fiction, and while I don’t consider myself a fantasy writer, I do enjoy adding a measure of the supernatural to otherwise realistic fiction. This blend runs through a number of my books, namely The Other Shepards, Where I Want to Be, Picture the Dead, and Tighter. I write stories that emphasize our lasting connections to those we have lost, and how our families—past and present—inform our everyday life in ways that can be both startling and steadfast.

  In 2007, my husband, Erich, and I traded Manhattan for Brooklyn, where we live very happily with our two young children—a daughter, Priscilla, and a son, Hastings—as well as a ten-pound shih tzu named Edith. Parenthood has inspired me to write for a younger audience, and to that end, I teamed up with the author Courtney Sheinmel to create an early-reader series called Agnes and Clarabelle, forthcoming from Bloomsbury Press, about a pair of two differently anxious friends.

  My husband and I both avidly support nonprofit organizations such as the MacDowell Colony, Prep for Prep, the Brooklyn Academy of Music, buildOn, and 826NYC, an after-school tutoring and creative writing center for high school youth, where I sit on the board of directors. I am also a member of the PEN American Center and the Writers Guild of America. Visit me at www.adelegriffin.com and on Twitter at @adelegriffin.

  My brother Robert and me in Maine in 1976, when I was six years old. Our mother was born in Maine and our grandparents returned there, to the Rangeley Lakes, most summers.

  Me in Rhode Island with my brother Geoff in 1981. I was eleven years old and in my Agatha Christie phase. I would read Christie or nothing.

  My contribution to my high school arts magazine. I loved to make collages, considering them the highest form of art. I also emulated Victorian gothic romance, and loved historical costumes. Many of my illustrations were wacky, inadvertent mash-ups of period c
lothing spanning multiple centuries.

  My two best friends and me at our high school graduation in 1989. From left to right: Holly, Stephanie, and me.

  Even as an adult, I was interested in princess costumes. I made crowns to celebrate Princess Diana’s televised BBC interview in 1995, which my family watched after taking this photo. From left to right: me, my grandmother, my aunt Elena, my niece Kate, my mother, and my aunt Barbara.

  A photograph of me with my soon-to-be husband, Erich, on the morning of our wedding, August 16, 1997.

  Me with Robert Cormier in 1998. Cormier was my childhood idol, and his novel I Am the Cheese is one of my favorite books of all time.

  My first author visit, for Rainy Season, in 1996 at my alma mater, the Agnes Irwin School in Rosemont, Pennsylvania.

  Me with my daughter, Priscilla, wearing our glasses at my parents’ home in Pennsylvania.

  Me with my husband and our children, Priscilla and Hastings, on the ferry to Fire Island, where we go every summer. This photo was taken in summer 2012, when Hastings was just one month old.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.