The fire was burning low. Whether it was from a chill or Granny’s words, Marigold shivered. “Did you ever have trouble . . . getting back home?”
Granny gave a negative wave of her hand as if she didn’t want to talk about it. “That’s another story, dear.” The old cabbage woman rose and moved heavily toward the door. Marigold gathered up Boing-Boing and reluctantly followed. They stood on the threshold across from each other. “Will I ever get to see Winnie again? Or Lenny? Or Priscilla?” Marigold asked.
“Whenever you want,” Granny Cabbage said, but she wouldn’t say how. Even though Marigold was curious beyond words, she knew it was useless to press Granny anymore that night.
“It’s time for you to go home,” she said in a raspy old voice.
Marigold turned to leave and then stopped. “I almost forgot.” She had Granny’s spell book and handed it to her. “Thank you, Granny.”
The old cabbage pushed it back to Marigold and winked. “Keep it. I have a feeling it will come in handy.”
16
A Surprise for Baddie Longlegs
Marigold tucked Granny’s spell book into her pocket. She was happy to see that Lightning had gotten over his dislike for the Candy Land game and held it under one arm. As the three set out for home, Marigold wondered how her mother and father would take the news about her magic power, and she braced herself for what they would say about her new human friends. The little houses on Wigglyrambly Way came into view. She spotted the one in the shape of a teapot and landed right in front of it.
Marigold passed through the Dutch door of her house into the kitchen.
“Magic wand . . . make me and Boing-Boing invisible,” Marigold ordered.
POOF! She disappeared.
She sidestepped the mashed yam on the floor that her parents had probably hoped one of the brownies would get to overnight. She could smell a fire burning in the living room fireplace. Both her parents sat on the couch watching a wicker basket rock gently in the air. Inside, her sister, Petal, slept peacefully.
“I told you,” her father said in a low voice. “The Buoyant Basket Spell works every time.”
Her mother kept a keen eye fixed on the basket, like a lion tamer anticipating every switch of the tail of his fiercest cat. “I heard it might rain later—do you think you could activate the Anti-Thunder Spell?”
“Definitely,” he replied.
Marigold walked into the room, and the only thing that gave her away was the creak of the wide plank floorboards underfoot, but her parents were too preoccupied to notice. When she was right in front of them, Marigold sat on the coffee table. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”
“Marigold! Is that you?” Her father sounded pleased.
“Magic wand . . . make me visible,” Marigold commanded, and she reappeared.
“You did it,” her mother whispered, and clapped, barely touching her hands so as not to wake the contents of the wicker basket. But a moment later her joy faded.
Both her parents gasped. “Where is your star?”
“Don’t worry, it will grow back,” Marigold said cheerfully. “Granny said so.”
The orange cat on her lap meowed loudly, and Marigold quickly made Boing-Boing visible too. She picked him up under his arms to show her parents. “This is Boing-Boing.”
Of course, both of Marigold’s parents wanted to know where in Bramblycrumbly she had suddenly gotten a cat since it had been only a short time since she’d gone off to learn the Invisibility Spell. As far as they knew, she hadn’t left her bedroom. And of course, when she told them that Boing-Boing came from her new human friend Priscilla, their shock was nowhere near the level of their distaste.
Her father’s beard curled.
Her mother fanned herself as if she might pass out.
Marigold’s father sputtered, “You made friends with a HUMAN?”
Marigold scrunched up her nose. “Sort of . . . more than one, actually,” she said in a small voice.
Lightning had been staying in the background, but now he sat next to Marigold. The two of them barely fit on the coffee table, but she was glad to have him near for moral support as she told the story of her incredible adventure.
Her parents listened without asking any questions. Marigold saved the most important part, about how she discovered her magic power, for last. “You know how you always thought that I was going to be great at something?”
They nodded because they were too shocked to speak.
Marigold continued. “And you know how I’m only good at being a friend?”
Petal peeked over the side of the basket, which had stopped rocking, and even she listened with rapt attention.
Marigold bit her lip. “And I know you hoped that I’d be a fairy god-doctor or a weather wizard, but as it turns out . . .” She hesitated, afraid of how they would take the news. “I’m a . . . I’m a . . .”
“She’s an Imaginary Friend,” Lightning answered for her.
Both her parents looked at each other and then at Marigold, and their faces lit up.
“An Imaginary Friend?” her father exclaimed. “Are you sure?”
Marigold nodded several times.
Her father shook his head in disbelief. “Imaginary Friends are very, very rare. . . .”
“How incredibly wondrous!” Her mother gazed at her with pride.
“Why, Bramblycrumbly hasn’t had an Imaginary Friend in over a hundred years,” her father added.
“Not since Granny Cabbage,” Marigold said shyly, but she was amazed and relieved by her parents’ reactions.
“ACHOO!” someone sneezed.
All eyes turned to Petal. Her nose was bright red and dripping. Petal screwed up her mouth, squinched up her face, and pointed to her big sister. “Mawigohd no blinky!” she screamed. Then she seemed to notice Boing-Boing. “Achoo! Achoo! Ah-ah-ah-ACHOO! WAAAAAAAAH!”
Marigold, Lightning, and Marigold’s mother and father all stood looking at Boing-Boing because they knew he couldn’t stay. Boing-Boing was a sorry sight to see. His head drooped. He sniffed, and a tear ran down his furry face and plopped onto the coffee table. It seemed like almost everybody was allergic to him.
Marigold glanced at Lightning, who shrugged. She thought of Priscilla, who loved the cat so dearly and who had so much faith in Marigold to take Boing-Boing.
Her father scratched his head. “Do you know anyone who wants a cat?” he asked.
Petal sneezed several more times.
As a fairy god-doctor, Marigold’s mother, Tulip, knew spells for all types of ailments. There were ones for warts, for pains in the neck, crooked toes, even the common cold, and just about anything else you could think of—but there was nothing for allergies except tissues. Tulip twirled her wand, and a box of some appeared. “Maybe one of your friends perhaps needs a pet?” she suggested, and wiped Petal’s nose.
“Actually,” Marigold said slowly as an idea formed in her mind. “I do know one!”
She hurried Boing-Boing out of the house. She had just thought of the perfect home for him. A moment later she was flying with Lightning huffing and puffing behind her. They passed over Mrs. Moon’s, and the owl flapped up from her tree. “I see you’ve taken my advice and learned to fly with conviction,” she said. “But you seem to have a new problem—where’s your star?”
Marigold invited Mrs. Moon to follow her where she would tell her all about the incredible adventure she’d been on and how she’d discovered her magic power. The owl followed, curious to hear what had happened.
They passed over Bob the Woodcutter’s Son’s stacks of wood and saw Bob too. Marigold called to him that she had discovered her magic power and told him to follow her to Baddie’s to hear all about it.
On his way, Bob the Woodcutter’s Son ran into Marigold’s best friends Daisy and Rosie, and Lily and Iris. “Have you heard?” Bob said excitedly. “Marigold Star just discovered her magic power!” Of course, they all wanted to hear her story too. But before Daisy and Rosie and Lily and Iri
s rushed off for Baddie’s, they called the vegetable people Chickpea, Ginger, and Parsnip to tell them that Marigold had discovered her magic power. The vegetable people wanted to hear all about Marigold’s incredible adventure. They lived in the middle of Spookety Forest and called Big Flying Bird to fly them to Baddie’s. Even Big Flying Bird was curious to hear Marigold’s tale and got them there as fast as he could.
“You’re back!” Baddie Longlegs shouted, and came running out of his shack as soon as he spotted Marigold. But this time she had a party of all her best friends, the likes of which the solitary troll had never seen under his bridge. Marigold held the big orange cat behind her back.
“I see you’ve come with some new yarn to surprise me,” Baddie said.
“Not this time.” Marigold grinned, and Lightning could barely keep from giving the surprise away.
Baddie was puzzled and tossed his head full of beautiful wavy green hair.
“I came to solve your only problem, Baddie,” Marigold replied.
Baddie held his hand over his mouth so only Marigold could hear. “But these are all your friends. . . .”
“And here is yours for your very own!” Marigold revealed the surprise. “This is Boing-Boing.”
“For me?” Baddie took the cat and held him close to his cable-knit sweater. “I’ve always wanted a cat—I even knitted a bed for one just in case. Want to see it?”
Everyone did want to see, and they were all invited inside to look at the bed that Baddie had knitted in case he ever got a cat. They weren’t disappointed. It was a beautiful shade of buttery yellow, made with special yarn that was the softest in all of Bramblycrumbly. It covered a thick pillow with lovely high sides for a cat to snuggle inside, and as soon as Boing-Boing saw it, he curled up and immediately began to snore. He’d had a long day of it.
Then everyone gathered around to hear Marigold tell the story of her incredible adventure and how she’d discovered her magic power. When she finished her tale with the revelation that she was an Imaginary Friend, no one was surprised.
“We always knew you were marked for greatness,” Baddie said proudly.
“But Granny says everyone has a magic power,” Marigold replied. “And that you can never lose it unless you ignore it.”
This started a lively discussion about what each of her friends thought their magic power was. Of course Baddie’s was his extraordinary knitting ability, and Mrs. Moon thought hers was her ability to give expert advice on any subject. When Bob the Woodcutter’s Son wondered aloud what his could be, everyone was sure it was his ability to find four-leaf clovers, which were extremely rare, even in Bramblycrumbly. Big Flying Bird was too big to fit inside the shack, but he had popped his head through the window and listened without saying a word, until finally he asked the others tentatively, “Do any of you think . . . ? I—I mean could there be a chance that being big . . . b-big as an elephant . . . could be my magic power?” Everyone thought that being big was Big Flying Bird’s magic power because they all relied on him to carry them through Spookety Forest on a regular basis. The bird puffed up his feathers, which made him bigger than ever, and for the first time he seemed proud of his enormous size. The group talked and talked about magic powers until someone pointed to the top of Marigold’s head and shouted, “Look!”
Baddie brought Marigold a mirror, and sure enough, she could see a tiny point of light where her star had once been. “Granny said it would grow back!” Marigold said excitedly. Remarkably, although Baddie hardly ever entertained, he always kept on hand a large blueberry crumble just in case, and he served it now to celebrate. Marigold could have stayed for hours eating crumble and laughing with her friends but not tonight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she said to everyone.
Everyone agreed to meet at Baddie and Boing-Boing’s the next day. Marigold bent down and kissed the top of the big orange cat’s head as he lay sleeping in his new knitted bed. She left happy knowing that Priscilla would approve of his new owner.
Outside, silvery beams of light shimmered from an enormous full moon, and Marigold thought of the one she’d just flown past riding the magic carpet with Winnie. Marigold recited the Flying Spell, and leaped unafraid into the air with perfect timing, just like the superhero that Lenny believed she was. Above, a cloud had formed into the shape of what looked exactly like the shadow boy, and she was reminded that she could never lose her magic power as long as she always answered the call.
Below, the windows twinkled from all the little houses, and strands of smoke curled from their chimneys. Bramblycrumbly had never seemed so magical, and Marigold could have soared through the sky forever with her pet dragon by her side, but they flew straight to 10 Wigglyrambly Way. Tonight, she couldn’t wait to get home.
About the Author
Courtesy of Elise Primavera
ELISE PRIMAVERA has been writing and illustrating children’s books for more than twenty-five years. She has received numerous awards for her work. Her bestselling book Auntie Claus has sold over half a million copies. Visit her online at www.eliseprimavera.com.
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Copyright
MARIGOLD STAR. Copyright © 2019 by Elise Primavera. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art © 2019 by Elise Primavera
Cover design and hand lettering by Molly Fehr
* * *
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018965672
Digital Edition JUNE 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-204468-6
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-056949-5 (trade bdg.)
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1920212223PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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