A Fairy's Guide to Disaster (19 page)

“So you were just being gross?” I asked.

“I was being a spriggan.”

I dangled him over the water, letting his toes brush the surface. “So why wouldn’t you poop in the water? You’re still a spriggan.”

“I’ve decided not to be a spriggan anymore. That’s the difference. Now I’m ready for my bath.”

Gerald frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t matter what you decide. You’re still a spriggan.”

“Not true. I can be whatever I want, and I want to be a wood fairy. Bath, please.”

I held Horc up to eye level. “Did you say please?”

“Wood fairies say please,” he said.

“But you’re not a wood fairy,” said Gerald.

I took my favorite skirt off Horc’s bottom and turned to Gerald. “I suspect a lot of us aren’t exactly what we say we are. Let’s face it. I’m not a real babysitter. Horc isn’t a wood fairy and you’re not a Whipplethorn. Who cares? It doesn’t matter.”

Gerald clamped his mouth shut and stepped into the water with Iris. They held Easy by the arms and let him kick and splash. I put Horc in the water, keeping a close eye in case he let something nasty fly. But he didn’t and I let him sit next to Easy.

I waded in hip-deep, trailing my hands in the cool water. I splashed some on my face and slicked my hair back. I wondered what Mom and Dad were doing right then. Were they headed to the antique mall? An unwanted thought crept in. Could they possibly be waiting at Whipplethorn, hoping we’d find our way back? I didn’t think Mom and Dad would be so complaisant about us, especially Mom. She’d bite the head off a spriggan, if it stood between her and us. Still, they could be hurt like Mrs. Zamora.

Wherever Mom was, whatever she was doing, she’d want me to keep up her standards. She’d hate it if she knew what a mess we all were. I dipped my hair in the water and swished it around. The yogurt wasn’t coming off.

“Humans must have soap,” I said.

Iris splashed Gerald, who kicked a wave of water at her. She stood, gasping and dripping. Then she ran for him and chased him around the edge of the water. I reached out and grabbed her sleeve as she passed.

“Watch the babies,” I said.

I flew up to the top of the bowl and found a bottle with an iridescent orange drop on the tip of its spout. An experimental sniff confirmed that it was soap. It smelled like three dozen flowers were crammed into that small drop. Definitely not like any soap Mom made. I scooped some of the soap off the spout and floated down next to Horc.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Soap.”

He opened his mouth and waited. Iris and Gerald giggled. Horc closed his mouth and then spat at Easy.

“Hey,” I said. “We don’t spit.”

“He said I’m stupid. Can I bite him? Do wood fairies bite?”

“No biting and Easy stop calling Horc stupid.”

Iris picked Easy up and he buried his face in her neck.

“You hurt his feelings,” said Iris.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” I rolled my eyes and said to Horc, “This is soap. You wash with it. It’ll take your stink off.”

Horc took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

I washed him from top to bottom. When I was done, I sat him in a dry area and stepped back to get a look at the new Horc. He surprised me by being a totally different color. He wasn’t pretty by any means, but his new greenish-grey color reminded me of moss in the forest.

Iris got some soap, washed Easy, and then put him next to Horc with a reminder to be nice. Then Iris, Gerald, and I dove into the center of the pool. We flipped in the water, doing handstands with only our toes above the surface. Soon a layer of pink scum floated on the top of the water. Gerald retrieved some soap, the last bit on the spout, and shared it with me and Iris. We scrubbed our skin pink as the yogurt. Then we swam to the opposite edge of the pool to rinse ourselves in the only clear water left.

When I finished, I wrung out my clothes the best I could. The wood pattern painted on by the dryads became dull and muddied. The beautiful decorations that had once identified me as Soren Maple’s friend went too easily.

“I guess we better get back to the mantel and start cleaning up,” I said.

“No kidding,” said Gerald, cocking his head to the side. “The humans are back and there are more of them this time.”

I looked up, half expecting to see a crowd of humans around the bowl. But there wasn’t and for all I knew they were in another room or even outside. I turned to Iris for confirmation.

Iris’s brow furrowed. She spread her wings, drops of water flung off the tips, and she scooped up Easy. “They’re already in. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention again.”

Gerald shifted some of Easy’s weight over to himself. “That’s okay. I was.”

I picked up Horc and led the way out of the bowl. When we emerged, we found a human, a man, standing above us. His hand shot out toward the spout, grazing me and Horc. We tumbled down into the bowl as a torrent of water rushed in.

A wave covered my head. I slammed against the side of the bowl and realized my arms were empty. I’d lost Horc. I kicked and got my head above the water. The spout above me poured a waterfall into the bowl.

“Horc!” I screamed.

The man’s hand came down into the bowl. It pulled the grey metal basin out of the bowl’s bottom. The second he lifted the basin, the water started draining out. A brown lump bobbed in the water on the opposite side of the bowl. I kicked off the wall and swam toward Horc. Dad’s hated swimming tips bounced around in my head. I didn’t get far before the current swept me away. I didn’t fight it. I swam toward Horc. His back floated above the water as he bobbed around in a quiet corner.

The current drew me toward the center of the bowl. The water was going down into a vortex. The sight spurred me on, my legs pumping madly. The current caught Horc and thrust him into the same stream as me. Instinct kicked in. I spread my wings and used them to propel me through the water, but the extra boost gave me too much momentum. I rushed past Horc, grabbing his arm at the last second. I pulled him to my chest and his arms went around my neck. I changed my trajectory to the edge of the current. The far reaches of the bowl’s bottom were already dry. If I could swim through the current, we might have a chance.

My wings seemed to be made for swimming and I went with it. I gave up using my free arm and put everything I had into my wings. My foot brushed the bottom, but the current kept at me. I was tiring. The vortex got closer as my wings beat the water slower. I couldn’t do it. I tucked myself around Horc. Maybe we had a chance to get down the hole in one piece.

Something yanked my head backwards. My body began to drag in the current. I opened my eyes. I saw nothing but the swirling vortex, gaping and hungry for us. We didn’t move away from the hole, but stayed in place. The water rushed past and in a massive, quick movement it vanished down the hole and was gone.

I dropped to the bottom of the bowl, landing painfully on my rear. I gasped and fell over. Horc clutched my neck, let go, and then clutched it again like he was having some sort of spasm.

“Matilda, can you hear me? Matilda!” Iris’s voice seemed far away, but I could feel her breath on my ear.

Iris rolled me over and pulled the tangled hair out of my face. “Matilda, say something.”

“You pulled my hair.”

Tears burst from Iris’s eyes. She covered her face and rocked backwards. Gerald came into view. “We both pulled your hair. There wasn’t anything else to grab. Your wings were too slick.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” said Gerald.

“I’ve never heard you say that before.”

Gerald peeled my arms off Horc and lifted him off my chest. “What?”

“You’re welcome.”

Gerald shrugged and peered into Horc’s face.

“I’m okay,” said Horc. “We wood fairies are sturdy.”

“Yeah,” said Gerald. “I’ve heard that about wood fairies. We better get out of here before that man decides to douse us again.”

I got my feet under me and tried to stand. My legs shook. They wobbled so violently, I fell back. “I don’t think I can.”

“Let her rest,” said Iris.

“No way,” said Gerald. “This place is swarming with humans.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. Now my whole body shook and my teeth chattered. The wall swam in front of my eyes, looking like white liquid, dripping and oozing.

Iris put her arm around my shoulders and said something in my ear. I could hear her. I just couldn’t understand the words.

Gerald and Iris hooked my arms over their shoulders. I watched the bowl bottom sink away from under my feet. They flew me onto a shelf inset into the wall with a window behind it. My body convulsed when it touched the chilly granite surface.

“She’s too cold,” said Gerald. “We have to get her into the sun.”

They pulled me into a patch of warm sunlight and I stopped convulsing.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Iris.

“I think she’s in shock,” said Gerald. “We’ll never be able to carry her to the mantel. I’m going to get some blankets. You stay here and keep her awake.”

“How?”

“Do whatever you have to. Pinch her. Shake her. I’ll be right back.”

Iris lay down next to me, pressing her warm body against my cold one.

“I’m okay,” I said, then everything went black.

When I woke up, the patch of sun was huge and almost hot. A pile of blankets covered me up to my chin. I could hardly move under their weight. Iris sat next to me combing her hair. It bounced and coiled into ringlets with each stroke. I worked my arm out and touched her arm.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“How long have I been out?” I asked.

“All night. It’s morning,” said Iris.

“Is everybody okay?”

Iris tucked her comb into her pocket and said, “We’re all fine. I found some of our old diapers for Horc and Easy. I made them some shirts and pants from some of Mom’s fabric.”

“You’ve been busy,” I said.

“It was easy.”

I patted Iris’s hand. I didn’t trust myself to speak. My throat felt all hot and twisty. A headache bloomed in my forehead and my stomach flipped around like I’d swallowed a fish.

“Do you want something to eat?” asked Iris.

I wasn’t sure I could eat anything, but I nodded anyway.

Iris jumped up and clapped her hands. She flitted away, past the mom with her mug and landed on the granite-covered table in the center of the kitchen. She strode across the table with her shoulders thrown back and lightness in her step that I’d never seen before. She went to a spot of brown, and then flew back to me with a thick flake.

I sniffed and took a small bite. It tasted like Mom’s flatbread, except crispy and sweeter. “What is it?”

“Bran flake. It’s good, isn’t it?”

I nodded and nibbled on the flake.

“Matilda?” Iris’s happy expression vanished like it’d never been there at all.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“When do you think Mom and Dad will get here?”

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

“What if it is? What if they don’t come?” Iris asked.

“They’ll come. It hasn’t been that long.”

“What if they’re not looking for us?”

“Of course they’re looking for us,” I said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous. Easy cried last night for his mom. He thinks she’s never coming. Gerald doesn’t say it, but he’s worried, too.”

I didn’t say anything. I was worried, too, but I didn’t want it to show.

“What if they’re hurt and waiting for us to help them?” asked Iris.

I watched the mom pour a brown liquid into the bowl and sneeze. I couldn’t lie to Iris. Something could’ve happened to them when the humans came to take our mantel. Something definitely happened to Easy’s mom.

“We could ask the humans for help,” said Iris.

I heaved the blankets off my legs and stood. The mom left the kitchen, but Judd remained slurping what looked like bran flakes out of a bowl with a spoon. I pointed at him. “Ask the humans? They can’t see us. Remember?”

“We could make them see us and they could take us back to Whipplethorn to find Mom and Dad.”

“How, Iris?” I asked. “When’s the last time a human saw any wood fairy? Six generations ago. Even Dad can’t do it.”

Gerald landed on the shelf with a frown on his face. “You could do it.”

I crossed my arms and leaned against what had to be a piece of yellow fruit. It felt hard and silky under my hand. The smell was glorious, sweet, and exotic.

Gerald frowned deeper. “You could do it, Matilda.”

“I’ve never done it before, and believe me, I’ve tried,” I said.

“You didn’t want it bad enough,” said Gerald.

“That’s what Dad said.”

“See. You want it more now and so you’ll do it.”

“Why me?” I asked. “You want it just as badly.”

“You’re bigger. Size matters.”

“Now that’s ridiculous. We’re so tiny to them. My being a bit taller won’t make any difference.”

Gerald went to Iris’s side. “It’s you that will make the difference. Humans would want to see you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Humans love fairies. They write books about us, draw pictures, and make fairy toys for their children. If a human could meet a fairy, they’d want to meet one like you. You’re…” Gerald swallowed and his usual resentful expression came over his face. “You’re perfect. You’re just what a fairy should be. Not me, and not Iris.”