Marigold Star

by Elise Primavera

“Whatever you say, Marigold.” Lenny winked. Then he grinned broadly and stuck out his hand to the shadow boy. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Super Scary Shadow Boy.”

  The creature shook his head. “I’m not a superhero either.”

  Lenny’s eyes bugged out. “Are you kidding me?” He took hold of the shadow boy’s paw and pumped it furiously. “You are an incredible, awesome superhero!”

  “I am?” the shadow boy said in a small voice.

  Priscilla came forward too. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shadow Boy.” She shook his paw as well. “Lenny has told me so much about you.”

  “He has?” the creature asked, bewildered.

  “Oh yes!” Priscilla exclaimed. “He showed me your comic book.”

  Lenny whipped the comic out of his back pocket. “Oh my gosh! Could you sign this for me?” He felt around in all his pockets and produced a pen.

  “But . . . but . . . where did this come from?” the shadow boy asked.

  Winnie looked over his shoulder at it. “You mean he really is a superhero?”

  Lenny pointed to a page. “Could you write, ‘To Lenny, an awesome comic book fan if there ever was one,’ or whatever you want is okay or just— No, wait. ‘To Lenny . . . my awesome friend.’ Could you underline ‘friend’?”

  While the shadow boy wrote the inscription, Winnie whispered in Marigold’s ear, “Who is that kid?”

  “That’s Lenny,” Marigold replied.

  “He’s the biggest weirdo I’ve ever seen,” Winnie said. “And who’s the other kid with the cat?”

  “That’s Priscilla. She’s very nice,” Marigold said.

  “I don’t like her—she’s got bangs.” Winnie sniffed.

  “But you’ve got bangs,” Marigold said.

  “I know, but her bangs are creepy.” Winnie stamped her foot. “Are you really not going to let me carry that magic wand?”

  Marigold gave her a look that said she really was not going to let the girl carry her wand.

  Lenny blew on the page for the ink to dry. “There’s just one more thing. . . .” He hesitated. “I don’t want to overstep or anything but . . .”

  Everybody waited.

  “You know what would be super awesome and like so cool?” Lenny straightened his glasses. When no one asked “What?” he continued. “You know how Marigold gave you her a-maz-ing star? If you could give Marigold something equally a-maz-ing . . .”

  “Like what?” the shadow boy asked.

  “Um, how about your Candy Land game?” Lenny said. “It would just make it so perfect!”

  “Lenny!” Marigold scolded.

  “Too much? Sorry, it’s just that you gave him something awesome, and it would be so cool if he gave you something awesome in return—like an exchange of superhero awesomeness.”

  “I’m not a superhero,” Marigold said wearily.

  “Lenny is right.” The shadow boy handed her the game.

  “But you love Candy Land.” Marigold didn’t want to take his favorite game, but the creature shook his shaggy head and insisted she have it.

  Lenny was already running outside and calling to the ghosts. “Guys! Guys!” The ghosts gathered and were agog over all the pictures Lenny showed them of themselves in the pages of his comic book. The shadow boy appeared from the cave, and the ghost children were even more surprised and dazzled by the golden sparkly starlight over his head. They admired it and forgot that they were ever scared of him.

  “He’s not even a shadow! He really is a superhero!” they said, and then argued over who knew this to be true all along.

  “I was never really afraid of him,” one ghost child bragged.

  “Me either,” another was quick to add.

  “Yes, you were,” his sister said.

  “I was not!” he yelled.

  “You were too!” she yelled back.

  They squabbled back and forth and swirled through the trees.

  WOO! WOO! The train whistle sounded, and in seconds, it rolled into view.

  The ghost children flew to it, and the shadow boy scrambled onto the train platform, the star over his head glowing brighter than ever.

  “You were right, Marigold Star!” the ghost children called to her. “Super Scary Shadow Boy is an incredible superhero!”

  “And so is Marigold Star!” the shadow boy shouted joyfully.

  Marigold watched with despair as the ghost train swirled into the sky and flew over the tops of the trees, then vanished in the mist along with her star. She didn’t care what anyone said: she wasn’t a superhero—and she couldn’t help thinking that she had just made another super mistake.

  13

  Brownies!

  Marigold stood gazing off into the distance with thoughts of home filling her mind. She wondered what everyone would say. She wondered if they would still call her Marigold Star . . . or if they would call her Marigold Starless? One thing was for sure: they wouldn’t say she was marked for greatness anymore.

  While Marigold mulled this over, Winnie took advantage of the moment. “I’ll take that!” she said, and snatched the wand right out of Marigold’s hand.

  “Hey!” Marigold shouted. “Give it back!”

  “No way,” Winnie replied.

  Marigold couldn’t believe she’d not only given away her star but now she’d lost her magic wand for the third time that night. I am truly hopeless, Marigold thought, then she pleaded with the girl to give it back. She couldn’t tell Winnie that she needed to make friends with her—that was against the rules of the spell (which carried dire consequences, like having to spend the rest of her life in the Human World)—but she tried to tell Winnie that without her wand, something terrible might happen in Bramblycrumbly. Marigold glanced at Lenny.

  “Eleven forty,” he answered.

  “Hmmm . . .” Winnie stroked her chin. She spoke as if she was thinking out loud. “If something terrible happens in Bramblycrumbly you might not be able to go back . . . and you’d have to stay here.”

  A cold wind whistled through the trees. It was just too awful a thought for Marigold to consider. All the petals on her head drooped, her pink tights were ripped, and her sky-blue dress was far too thin for this world.

  “You’re shivering,” Winnie said sternly. She swung the green cape with the big gold star over Marigold’s shoulders. “The last thing I need is for you to catch cold.”

  Lenny and Priscilla looked on in awkward silence. Marigold was glad to have the cape and pulled it around herself to keep out the cold, but what she really wanted from Winnie was her magic wand! She weighed the odds of whether she might be able to snatch it away from the girl, when without warning, a loud thrashing sound came from the brush. Right in front of them, Meatball raced by with Winnie’s bag of candy clenched tightly between his teeth. Norman was right behind him.

  Winnie’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “My candy!” Expertly, she wished on the magic wand to make the dog stop. He came to a screeching halt and dropped the bag at Winnie’s feet. “Good dog,” she purred. But when she looked, a hole had been gnawed in the bottom of it. The bag was empty. “You ate all my candy!” she said in disbelief. Winnie took the magic wand and smacked the dog on his snout.

  “Hey!” Norman cried. “You can’t do that!”

  “Gr-r-r-r,” said Meatball. He grabbed the end of the wand in his teeth.

  “Give it back.” Winnie struggled with dog over the wand, and they were soon in a tug-of-war. Meatball gave it one last mighty tug. He stood still for a second, the wand firmly in his mouth. Winnie’s face was a mixture of surprise and horror. Then the dog whirled around and took off into the forest.

  The magic carpet safely rolled up under her arm—for without the magic wand, Winnie wasn’t taking any chances of having that snatched away from her too—she took off in hot pursuit, with Norman right on her heels. “Come back here, Meatball!” they both screamed.

  Marigold, Lenny, and Priscilla—with Boing-Boing held tightly in her arms—ran to cat
ch up. They chased after Winnie and Norman out of the forest, past a ball field, through a neighborhood, and by a school. They finally found Winnie and Norman behind the community center, but Meatball was gone.

  “We lost him!” Winnie said angrily.

  But as they all stood catching their breaths, they heard the sound of barking.

  “I’d know that bark anywhere.” Norman pointed to a huge tent. “It’s Meatball!”

  Marigold watched Winnie stride up to the tent and yank away the flap. “Brownies!” Winnie yelled.

  “Seepage,” Marigold gasped. She could feel her legs go weak at the thought of a whole tent full of brownies in control of her magic wand. But how had brownies seeped into the Human World? Winnie hadn’t wished for them. Had the shadow boy somehow done it while he was in possession of her wand? Her mind reeled. There was no way she could ever get the wand away from a bunch of brownies. Priscilla grabbed her by the sleeve. “I can’t look,” Marigold muttered.

  “It’s just Brownies.” Priscilla pulled Marigold inside the tent. “I’m Priscilla, and this is my friend Marigold.”

  “Where?” the Brownies asked.

  “Here,” Priscilla replied.

  Marigold peeked through her fingers to see several girls wearing brown beanies and sashes full of merit badges. Some held bags of marshmallows, others graham crackers and chocolate bars. She had never been so relieved to see not one real brownie in sight. “Um, Priscilla, they can’t see me. Lenny thinks it’s because he made me up—but it really has something to do with the spell I said to find you.”

  “Here!” Priscilla held up her cat. The Brownies gazed at Priscilla with blank faces. “I mean, this is my friend Boing-Boing—my other cat is Marigold.” Priscilla made an embarrassed little laugh, and the Brownies giggled. Sitting in the middle of them was Meatball, barking for them to feed him the marshmallows that were for their s’mores. Winnie stood awkwardly in the center of the tent holding the magic wand once more.

  “Say hello to the girls,” Marigold instructed.

  “Hi, everyone. I’m Winnie.” She held out her hand.

  “But aren’t you the girl who doesn’t like anybody?” the Brownies asked.

  “Yes,” Winnie replied.

  “Say no,” Marigold quickly whispered in her ear.

  “I mean, no.” Winnie shook their hands.

  “Quick, ask them if they want to be friends,” Marigold said.

  Winnie tilted her head. “Why?”

  Marigold thought that maybe the first step toward making friends with Winnie was to show her how. “Just ask them, Winnie,” Marigold said softly. “You’ll see why.”

  Winnie wrinkled her nose, but she did as Marigold instructed. “Want to be friends?” she asked tentatively.

  “Introduce Norman and Lenny and Priscilla,” Marigold suggested.

  “This is Norman and his dog, Meatball,” Winnie said. But when she went to introduce Lenny, he was nowhere to be found.

  Marigold went outside to look for the shy boy and found him hiding behind some garbage cans.

  “Come and meet the Brownies, Lenny,” Marigold said.

  “That’s okay,” Lenny replied. “I’m good.”

  “Come on, Lenny,” Marigold said.

  He folded his arms and stuck out his chin stubbornly. “I told you, I’m afraid of people, and that includes Brownies.”

  Marigold tried to entice him with s’mores, and when he wouldn’t budge even a smidge, she took hold of his hands and pulled him to a standing position. “You didn’t like Priscilla when you first met her either,” she reminded him.

  “But she likes comic books,” Lenny mumbled.

  Marigold was losing patience. “You can’t be friends only with people who like comic books!”

  Lenny shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re missing out on a lot of fun, Lenny!” she shouted out of frustration.

  Lenny studied her with a steady gaze. “So are you, Marigold.”

  Marigold pointed at herself. “Me?” She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “By not flying!” Lenny cried. “This is the part of the story where you should have overcome your temporary lapse of confidence and realized that you can fly!”

  “But I can’t fly!” Marigold stamped her foot and shouted at the boy, “I’m afraid!”

  “I told you, it’s just your timing that’s off, Marigold. Just leap as you say the word ‘fly.’ Don’t be afraid!”

  Marigold tried once more. She swung her arms on the word “magic,” but she leaped before she said “poket.” “Fly!” she exclaimed, and landed—thud—in the dirt. “See?” Marigold angrily brushed leaves and dirt off her dress. “I can’t fly!”

  “Yes, you can,” Lenny said fiercely. “You have to leap on the word ‘fly.’ You’re so close to getting it, Marigold! Try once more! Don’t be afraid!”

  Marigold had had enough. “When are you going to understand that I’m not one of your stupid superheroes!”

  Lenny stood motionless, and his eyes filled with tears.

  Marigold tossed her head. “I’m not a superhero!”

  “Okay, fine,” Lenny said. He turned and walked away from her. “You’re not a superhero.”

  Marigold called after him, “And you’re just a boy who reads a lot of comic books—it doesn’t make you an expert!”

  Lenny kept walking. Marigold watched him go straight to the tent. He shoved away the flap, and Marigold got there in time to see him shaking with fear as he said, “H-Hi, I—I’m Lenny.” He turned and looked longingly at the exit of the tent, and for a moment Marigold thought he was going to flee. Instead, he took a deep breath. “Um, like, what are all your n-names or whatever?” he asked.

  One by one, the girls told Lenny their names. Then someone asked him if he wanted a s’more. He stood there clumsily, trying to eat it, and chocolate dribbled down the front of his hoodie. Priscilla patted the space next to her. “Sit here, Lenny,” she said.

  He sat, and this time when he ate his s’more, it didn’t dribble. Soon he was laughing with the others at Boing-Boing, who, as it turned out, liked marshmallows too.

  The Brownies showed Winnie, Lenny, and Priscilla how to make s’mores. Then they all sat around eating them till there were no more left.

  Marigold whispered in Winnie’s ear, “Invite everyone to your birthday party.”

  Winnie did, adding, “And bring Meatball!”

  Marigold noticed that the girl’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. Winnie actually looked happy for a change. Marigold was happy because Winnie was happy—they had shared “joy”—she checked it off the list from the Invis-O-Friend Spell. Now all Marigold had to do was to get Winnie to share laughter, sorrow, and advice with her.

  It was very late by now. Norman waved goodbye, saying he’d see Winnie the next day, and took Meatball home.

  The Brownies were tired and said goodbye, agreeing to meet the next day at Winnie’s house as well. “Don’t wake up our moms!” a Brownie said, and giggled.

  Outside, Winnie, Lenny, and Priscilla and Boing-Boing tiptoed past another tent they assumed was where some of the Brownies’ mothers were staying.

  As soon as they were far enough away not to be seen or heard, Winnie said she could take Priscilla and Lenny home. Everyone was in high spirits at the prospect of a ride on a flying carpet . . . everyone except Marigold, who was too worried. It had to be after midnight by now. It gave her a tight feeling in her stomach, and all she could do was hope that Winnie’s birthday was on this day but hours from now.

  As they seated themselves on the carpet, Marigold glanced at Lenny to see if she could get his attention. He always had a way of making her feel better, and maybe he had some great comic book advice on how there was no way that Bramblycrumbly had just crumbled. She tried to catch his eye, but he turned away. She stared at the side of his head, but he wouldn’t look at her. Marigold whispered, “See? I told you it was easy to make friends.” But he wouldn�
�t answer her. He acted like she was invisible.

  This gave Marigold a disturbing thought. Maybe Lenny could no longer see her because he had made friends of his own. Maybe she had unwittingly completed the Invis-O-Friend Spell that had brought her to him. Maybe she had missed another page of the spell book where this rule was written. “Lenny! Can’t you see me anymore? Say something—please!”

  To Marigold’s surprise, Lenny turned to her and said calmly, “Actually, I’m not speaking to you right now because I don’t speak to people who call superheroes stupid . . . but . . . if I were speaking to you—which I’m not—I’d say that making friends just now was about as easy for me as flying is for you.” Then he turned his head and wouldn’t say another word.

  Marigold was alternately relieved and uneasy. She’d never had a friend not speak to her—it was unnerving.

  Winnie held the magic wand tightly in her fist, and it glittered like it never had before. The carpet rippled enticingly as it hovered a few inches off the ground. A chill wind blew, and Marigold watched, impressed with Winnie’s magic wand skills as the girl delivered a command. “Magic wand . . . give us a soft, warm, blue blanket with gold stars on it. Make it big enough for four kids and a large cat!”

  BANGO! FLUFF!

  A soft, warm, midnight-blue blanket with gold stars appeared, covering them all and neatly tucking itself around them. Then Winnie commanded, “Magic flying carpet . . . take me, Marigold, Priscilla and Boing-Boing, and Lenny to Lenny’s home and then Priscilla’s—and make it snappy!”

  ZIZZLE! MUSH!

  The carpet rose in the air and circled over the community center, over the Brownies’ tent, and away past Spookety Forest into the starry night. From under the blanket, the little group watched, cozy and warm, as the flying carpet weaved them expertly in and out of tall banks of clouds. Below, the lights from towns twinkled. They soared across a breathtaking sky, all awestruck except for Priscilla, who hardly noticed. She cradled the large orange cat in her arms and looked deeply into his eyes as if she was trying to memorize every whisker on his face.

  With a melancholy meow, Boing-Boing squirmed in her arms and reached up to lick her nose. As wondrous and dizzying as the flying carpet ride was on such a glorious night, it was still hard not to feel sad for the girl.