A Fairy's Guide to Disaster (18 page)

Read A Fairy's Guide to Disaster Online

Authors: A W Hartoin

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mythology & Folk Tales, #Teen & Young Adult, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Country & Ethnic, #Fairy Tales, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: A Fairy's Guide to Disaster
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“Of course. Now hurry up and eat your snack. We have to go to your brother’s practice,” said her mom.

She turned around, opened a white box and pulled out a metal container. A wonderful smell drifted across the room to the mantel and I groaned.

“That smells so good,” said Iris.

“No kidding.” Gerald licked his lips and rubbed his hands together.

The mom turned the metal container upside down and a brown rectangle popped out. “I’ll just let the bread cool while we’re gone. Judd, grab your cleats.”

“I don’t want to go,” said Tess, still next to the mantel. “Can’t I go to Great Grandma’s?”

“Not today.” Their mom herded her kids out of the red room, both protesting, Tess because she didn’t want to go and Judd because he was still hungry. When they were gone, the silence surprised me. Humans really fill up a room. The dogs trotted back to the mantel, sat, and tilted their muzzles up, waiting for another scratch. Iris waved her dog hair at them.

“Stay here,” I said. “I’ll see if I can get some of that bread.

Gerald spread his wings. “No way. I want to go.”

“Me, too,” said Iris, dropping the hair.

“I’m going,” said Horc.

Easy chirped and stared at Horc. Horc crossed his arms. “Apparently, I am now that baby’s translator. He says he wants to go, too.”

My mouth watered and I could hardly stop myself from flying to the bread straight away. “Fine. Gerald, come here and help carry Easy.”

“I can help you with Horc, if you want,” said Gerald.

“You’d rather carry Horc than Easy?”

“No. I just thought I’d help you.” Gerald fidgeted and avoided looking at me.

“Gerald Whipplethorn offering to help. You’re like a new person.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“I think it is,” I said. “But I don’t need any help. Iris does.”

Easy gazed up at Gerald and held up his hands. Gerald scooped him up and Iris got a good handhold on him. I led the way across the red room with Horc clasped to my chest. I flew low over the brown chairs and tried to read the titles of the books on the short table. Kipling’s
The Jungle Book
and
His Majesty’s Dragon
were the only ones I caught. Gerald nodded to the kitchen. He and Iris zipped off with Easy before I could utter a word. The dogs trotted after them, sniffing and wagging.

When I caught up, they already stood next to the bread loaf on a granite-covered table that swirled with a multitude of colors: orange, black, white and grey. I shivered as the granite’s cold crept up my feet into my ankles. How it stayed so frigid in such a warm room was a mystery. I looked over the edge. The dogs spied me and began whimpering. I waved at them and turned away. Iris and Gerald moved into a ring of warm moisture around the bread. The bread was enormous up close; bigger than our entire home in the mantel. Iris gazed up at it, holding Easy, who strained towards the loaf with his arms outstretched. Gerald pounded on the side of the bread.

“I can’t get any,” he said. “It’s hard as a rock.”

The smell filled the air around me so thick I felt like I could open my mouth, take a bite, and be satisfied. I set Horc on the stone. He swiped his hand through the bread’s moisture and licked his fingers.

“Oh, Horc,” I said. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” He licked his other glistening hand.

“It might be dirty.”

“Look at me,” said Horc. “Do I look concerned with dirt? Spriggans can live on anything and frequently do.”

I shrugged and leaned against the bread. Warmth radiated off it and drool almost slipped down my chin before I caught it with my finger.

“Do something,” said Gerald. He looked about ready to cry. “I’m so hungry.”

I knocked on the side of the loaf. Gerald was right. The bread was hard as a rock. I craned my neck back and looked at the top. It appeared shattered and broken at the top. I flew up and grabbed a jagged edge. A piece the size of my head broke free and I dropped it on the table next to Horc. He snatched it up and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth before anyone else could react. I tore off more chunks and only stopped when the pile next to Horc teetered taller than him. Then I fluttered down and watched the rest eat their fill before taking my first bite.

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 suppose 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.

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