Boxed Set: Egg and the Hameggattic Sisterhood: [The 12 book 1st adventure + the series prequel]

by Robert Iannone

  “Let’s continue this discussion later. Come to the kitchen and help me prepare dinner.”

  Egg loved Grammy’s kitchen. It was so . . . old. There was the old-fashioned stove, and the old-fashioned butcher-block counter and the old-fashioned sink, and refrigerator. But there was no microwave or dishwasher or trash compactor. It was like something out of a history book. It was really neat.

  “What would you like for dinner?” She asked but already knew the answer.

  Egg pretended to give it a lot of thought. “Mmmm . . . maybe we could have snails. I hear that people from France like them. No, that doesn’t sound good. Let me think . . . oh, we could have sushi. All my friends just love that. No, I’m not really in the mood for fish. Well, that leaves only one thing. Why don’t we have hotdogs?”

  “What a great suggestion. I was in the mood for a good hotdog. How about a salad and a bowl of fruit to go with it?”

  “Grammy, it’s like you read my mind.”

  They both laughed at the standing joke that had been played and replayed for the last two years. Then they began to prepare the meal. Grammy took out the fruit and cut it up while Egg took the hotdogs and dropped them into a pot of water. While the older Eloise poured some milk, Egg tossed the salad. It was their little ritual and it meant a lot to both of them.

  When everything was ready, they took the food and their drinks to the dining room and sat down. Grammy said a little prayer of thanks and they began to eat.

  As they ate, Grammy kept the conversation away from Sylvia and camp. That discussion would come after dinner. So they talked about Hawaii and the upcoming school year. They even talked about Ashley and her boyfriend. And before very long, the meal was over and they were taking the dishes back to the kitchen.

  They hand washed and dried everything and put it all away in the cupboards. When they were done, Grammy had Egg sit at the kitchen table and served her orange sherbet while she sipped a cup of coffee. And then, the conversation turned back to where it had begun.

  “So, Egg, my love, can you tell me the difference between Sylvia’s response to winning and yours in our little game.”

  “Of course. Sylvia was pretending to be nice but she was really lying. And I told the truth.”

  “I see. And why would Sylvia pretend to be nice?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess she’s just that kind of person.”

  “Is there a possibility she said those things so that the other girls wouldn’t feel bad about losing?”

  “Why would she care how they felt?”

  “Did you feel bad about losing?”

  “Of course. You know very well that winning means a lot to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s why you play the game . . . to win.”

  “Do you think Sylvia wanted to win?”

  “Uh . . . I guess so.”

  “So she wanted to win, and so did you. When she won, she tried to make the other girls feel less bad. Had you won, you would have. . .” She didn’t finish the sentence.

  Egg waited. But Grammy said nothing.

  “Aren’t you going to finish your sentence?”

  “No, dear. I want you to.”

  “I would have told the truth.”

  “So if Sylvia said the things that you would have said, how would you have felt?”

  Egg just stared at her grandmother. This conversation was certainly not going the way she had expected. She could feel her eyes getting a little moist. “I would have felt even worse.”

  “Why?”

  Egg continued to stare, but now she was deep in thought. She was trying to relive the moment she had lost at dodge ball. The moist eyes were turning to tears.

  “Why are you crying, my little darling?”

  “If she said the things that I would have said, it would have been very mean. Isn’t that right, Grammy?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you are absolutely correct. It takes a warm and wonderful person to understand that. I’m so proud of you.”

  “But why should telling the truth be wrong?”

  “Ahhh, that is a very mature question but it is not totally relevant to our discussion.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Egg, no one asked Sylvia why she had won and she didn’t volunteer the obvious . . . she was better than everyone else. Even you.”

  “Grammy, I’m very good at . . .” but her grandmother stopped her from completing the sentence.

  “Yes, dear, you are very good. But that doesn’t mean you will win every time. Sometimes the other person is better . . . at least for that particular event on that particular day. But why were you playing those games in the first place?”

  “To win of course.”

  “No, Egg, that’s not why you play those games.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because there are three reasons why people play games – and I stress the word games. Can you name them?”

  Egg thought about that for a moment. “Is winning one of them?”

  “No, dear.”

  “Okay, I guess I play sometimes just because it’s fun.”

  “That’s one.” Egg smiled a little. “Do you like the kids you play with?”

  “Yes. Well, most of them.”

  “So another reason is to socialize with friends. Do you like the games or sports that you play?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  Egg scrunched up her face. This was getting to be one of those conversations that either bored her or confused her. “I guess it’s because I’m good at them.”

  “Exactly. So the third answer is that you enjoy the thrill of competing . . . of pushing yourself to the limits of your ability.”

  “But that’s what I said all along. I want to win.”

  “No dear . . . you want to compete. That’s the thrill. Winning is just the reward. And if you win, or if you lose, you must always do it with grace and style.”

  “Grammy, I’m sorry but this conversation wasn’t supposed to go this way. You were supposed to agree with me about Sylvia and then tell me about somebody just like her when you were young.”

  “And I’m sorry dear, but I can’t this time and for a very, very important reason.”

  “What reason?”

  “I have an enormous secret to share with you but I can’t until you understand the things I’m trying to teach you. So will you try?”

  An enormous secret was something that got Egg’s attention. She was certainly willing to give this conversation another chance. “Absolutely.”

  So the senior Eloise talked, explained, and answered questions for the next hour. She was very pleased that her granddaughter was showing such maturity and interest. There was hope yet.

  “Grammy, I think I understand. And I’m not just saying that so I can hear your secret.”

  “That’s good. So why don’t you tell me in your own words what we just discussed.”

  “Okay. I shouldn’t care about winning; I should care about how well I compete. If I win, then I should be concerned with how the other girls who lost are feeling. If I lose, I should try to understand why I lost and work on improving myself for the next time.”

  “Oh, that is very, very good. You make me so proud. Anything else?”

  “Umm, don’t make everything into a competition and try to laugh more.”

  “Come over here and give me a big hug.”

  Egg danced over to her grandmother and did just that.

  “Now it’s time for the secret. But first, promise me that you will never tell anyone…ever and for any reason.”

  “I promise” Egg said with a look of complete sincerity.

  “Egg, how would you like to fly?”

  “Fly where?”

  “Anywhere, everywhere.”

  “I don’t understand. Is that the big secret?”

  “Yes.”

  The younger Eloise was crestfallen. What a stupid secret.

  “Disapp
ointed?”

  “Sorry, Grammy, but that’s not much of a secret.”

  “Oh yes it is because I’m about to give you the power to fly . . . like a bird.” Before Egg could respond, her grandmother said, “Follow me. We’re going to the attic.” And off they went up the stairs to a place where no visitor had gone in more than fifty years.

  Up they climbed . . . it was exactly thirty-four steps to the attic. When they got there, the elder Eloise took out a key and unlocked the door. It squeaked on its hinges as it opened into a room filled with great treasures of the past. There was an old gramophone . . .

  and an antique sewing machine . . .

  and an old photograph of a woman in a chair . . .

  and an ancient steamer trunk.

  They walked in and went directly to that trunk. Taking out another key, Grammy unlocked and gently opened the top. Inside was a package wrapped in paper. She took it out and carefully unwrapped it.

  For all the world it looked like . . . well, it looked like a Halloween costume. “This is the secret.”

  The suit was more of an outfit. There was a pinkish red skirt, darker red leggings and a tunic with white pads on the shoulders. White gloves, white boots and a heavy belt that appeared to be made of gold completed the ensemble. Oh, and the belt had a buckle with a very pretty rose crossed with a sword adorning it.

  Egg looked at it then at her Grandmother. She heard once that old people sometimes did strange things. This must be one of those times. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, she said, “It’s very nice Grammy. Did you used to wear that for Halloween?”

  Senior Eloise burst out laughing and the sound shocked Egg. “What’s so funny?”

  “This costume, my little precious, will allow you to fly anywhere you want.”

  “Grammy, that doesn’t make any sense. How could it do that? It doesn’t even have batteries.”

  “I’m about to tell you a fantastic tale. It’s the same one my grandmother told me. And believe me, I was as skeptical as you are now. But I soon learned the truth in what she said. This flying suit has been in our family for hundreds of years. But, according to legend, it was actually created thousands of years ago in the lost continent of Atlantis . . .”

  “Isn’t that in New Jersey?”

  “No, dear. It existed somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. It was home to a very advanced civilization. Some think they may have come from another planet, but who really knows? How our family came into possession of this is no longer remembered. But what it does is something marvelous. Whoever wears this has the ability to fly . . . like a bird. It is a wondrous feeling. . .”

  “Have you . . . you know . . . worn it and . . .,” she couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “Yes, dear. I have flown. And now it’s time for me to pass it down to you.”

  “Why me? How come my mom never wore it?”

  “The suit has power for seven years. After that, it takes exactly fifty years for it to recharge itself. So it gets handed down every other generation. You’re mom missed out. But you won’t.”

  “What about Ashley?”

  “It is up to the last user to choose her successor. I choose you.”

  “So it can only be worn by girls?”

  “Yes. But I don’t know why.”

  “I think I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t be. Trust me when I tell you that when you wear this suit, you can’t be hurt.”

  “You mean I become indestructible?”

  “No . . . it means that you can’t get hurt by crashing.”

  “Oh.”

  “And there is something else. When you wear this, only those very close to you can recognize that it’s actually you. However, an hour after they see you, they’ll forget that you were ever there.”

  “Does it have a mask or something?”

  “No mask, just mysterious powers. Are you ready to accept this gift?”

  Egg didn’t rush to answer. She was thinking of all the possibilities. Finally, she looked at her Grammy and said “Yes.”

  “Wonderful. Come over by the light and you can try it on. I can make whatever alterations right here on my old sewing machine.”

  Twenty minutes later, the suit was altered and Egg put it on. Looking in a mirror, she liked what she saw. “I think it suits me fine.”

  “Oh, it does, my love. But there’s a little more to this story . . .

  Chapter 3 – Up, Up and Away

  “Can I go flying now?”

  “No, dearest, it’s too dark. But right after breakfast tomorrow, you and I will soar among the birds.”

  “You can still fly? Do you have your own flying suit?”

  “This is my suit,” she said pointing at Egg. “And now it’s yours.”

  “Then how can you fly?”

  “I can’t . . . on my own. But as long as you hold my hand, I can fly with you.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful, Grammy. Then you can teach me how?”

  “Yes, just like my grandmother taught me.”

  “Oh, this is so exciting . . .” Then she stopped in mid-sentence. Before she could continue, her grandmother answered the question that had popped into her mind.

  “Yes, dear, it really is a flying suit, and you really will be able to fly. It’s not just a silly story from an old woman.”

  Egg bounced over to her Grammy and gave her a huge hug. “You are not an old woman and I believe you about the suit. It’s just so . . . so . . . fantastic.”

  “By tomorrow, you’ll realize it is so much more than fantastic – it’s miraculous. But let me finish my story. Are you comfortable? Good. First, let me tell you about three objects that come with the suit. There’s an amber ring . . .

  set in silver . . .

  . . . and a necklace made of reddish crystal in the shape of the letter “O” . . .

  . . . and a bracelet made of silver, but in the shape of a two-headed snake or maybe a sea serpent.

  “Are they magical too, like the suit?”

  “That, my dear, is the great mystery. No one knows what they do…if anything. They have been handed down, along with the suit, since forever. And everyone who has worn the suit has also worn the jewelry. But nothing happens. If they have magic, no one has ever been able to evoke it.”

  “Not even you?”

  “No, not even me. So I pass them along to you. Wear them when you wish and try to discover their magic. But be careful; there’s no one on earth who can help you learn how to control whatever power you might be able to unleash.”

  “That’s scary.”

  “Yes. But it is also incredibly exciting. Who knows what powers it might give you.”

  “Where are these things?”

  Grammy walked over to the steamer trunk and pulled out a small chest.

  She unlocked it and let Egg look inside.

  “Oh, my gosh, aren’t they beautiful. May I try them on?”

  “Of course, but not tonight. I still need to finish my story.”

  Egg sat back down clutching the chest on her lap. “Okay, Grammy, tell me the rest.”

  “The rest has to do with the little discussion we had earlier . . . about winning and Sylvia.”

  “Oh.” Egg wasn’t sure this was going to be good.

  The old woman laughed at her granddaughter’s reaction. “Not to worry, love. This will be quick and painless. There is something strange about the suit…”

  “More strange than flying?”

  “Well, maybe not more strange. Let’s just say equally unusual. Whoever created it must have wanted the wearer to do good deeds. And doing good deeds means caring about other people and not caring whether you get acknowledged for your acts of kindness. In our talk we said the same kind of things . . . care about the feelings of others, learn from your failures and don’t be too caught up in the glory of being the best.”

  Egg considered these words for a few minutes. Finally, she said, “So when I wear the suit, it’s to help people and not to make me famous. R
ight?”

  “Yes, dear. And it takes a very mature young lady to be able to accept that.”

  “What happens if I can’t or forget?”

  “The suit won’t work.”

  “WHAT?”

  “It’s part of the magic or the science. It won’t let you use the power for evil or for selfish reasons.”

  “Wow.”

  “So what do you think? Did I choose the wrong person?”

  “Oh, Grammy. I promise I’ll be the best girl ever to wear this suit. I’ll make you very proud.”

  “I’ve known that for many years, my darling. Now, off with the suit, put it in the chest with the other things and lock it. Here’s the key.”

  Egg took off the suit, folded it gently and placed it in the chest.

  “Good girl. Now go and take a bath then I’ll read you a story in bed.”

  So Egg raced downstairs, found her overnight bag and went to Grammy’s bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it was old and unusual. For instance, the bathtub had little feet and sat in the middle of room.

  When she had finished her bath, she brushed her teeth then went to Grammy’s bedroom and jumped up on the big bed. It was incredibly comfortable and snuggly.

  And Grammy read her a story. Then with a million thoughts of flying swirling around in her head, Egg fell asleep and dreamt she could soar amongst the clouds . . .

  *****

  “Wake up, wake up, wake up . . . Grammy, wake up.”

  “What time is it dear?”

  Egg looked at the antique alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s 7 o’clock.”

  “Let’s get to it, then. First, wash up and we’ll eat a good breakfast. I find that flying takes a lot of energy.”

  So they jumped out of bed, brushed their teeth and made for the kitchen. It was hard to say who was more excited, Egg or her Grammy. The next twenty minutes were a blur of activity . . . making breakfast, eating as fast as they could, rushing back to the bedroom to change. The older Eloise put on a pair of jeans; it was something Egg had never seen her do before.