Celia and the Fairies Page 4

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Mornings were so rushed at the Lovejoy residence that Celia didn’t get to tell her grandmother about the dream that didn’t feel like a dream until she got home from school.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, eating tangerine slices (her mother’s idea—a nutritious after-school snack), Celia told the whole story in a rush of words. Grammy listened and nodded in recognition when she heard the description of Mira: the way she glowed from within, the lilt of her little voice, and her luminescent wings. When Celia paused, her grandmother said, “So it’s begun for you now, too.” She sighed. “I wanted you to know about the magic, but I wasn’t wishing it would come like this. It doesn’t sound like you’re off to a good start.”

  Celia picked up a napkin and wiped at a dribble of juice on her chin. “It was kind of scary, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Mira’s scream was so horrible; it was like she was being attacked. Do you think something bad happened to her?”

  Grammy shook her head. “No, I think Mira is fine. The dreams are messages, and sometimes they come out scary when something is very serious. But it might not be as serious as she made it sound. Mira can be a bit of a drama queen sometimes.”

  “Is it the same Mira you knew, do you think? She looked so young.”

  Grammy said, “Fairies live far longer than humans. Hundreds of years, I think. Mira would still be quite young, so yes, she is probably the same Mira I knew.”

  Celia thought for a moment. “But how am I supposed to know what to do?” The enormity of the situation gave her a stomachache. Her biggest problems had always involved math equations and vocabulary words. Stopping evil in its tracks seemed an unreasonable request for a girl her age. “Mira said I should bring the flute and meet her under the Triple Trees. I know what the Triple Trees are. It’s a spot out in the woods where Paul and I play all the time, but I don’t have a flute. I don’t know what she means.”

  “She said to bring a flute?” Her grandmother tapped her fingers on the tabletop thoughtfully. “A flute? Are you sure?”

  “That’s what she said. I remember.” Like a movie playing in her head, Celia could recall Mira saying those exact words. She knew she’d remember it forever, even if she lived to be as old as her grandmother.

  “I know what she’s talking about,” Grammy said. “The flute was mine when I was a child, and I hid it in my room way back when. We can go up to your room when you’re done with your snack and I’ll show you where it is.”

  Celia’s room was a bit of a mess, but she was quite sure there wasn’t a flute anywhere about. Her mother made her clean every Saturday, and in the spring they emptied her closets and drawers and vacuumed under furniture, even her dresser, which was heavy and required two of them to shove it aside. If there’d been a flute, she’d have known. Clearly her grandmother was confused. “I don’t think it can be in my room, Grammy,” she said. “I’ve never seen it.”

  “It’s there all right,” her grandmother said. “You’ve been sleeping over it for years. Finish up your tangerine, and then I’ll show you where it is.”

  A few minutes later, Grammy and Celia pushed her bed away from the wall and pulled the area rug up off the hardwood floor. The section beneath the bed looked the same as in the rest of the room. “It’s under one of these,” her grandmother said, pointing. “I noticed the board was loose when I was about your age. I hid the flute underneath it so my sister Josie wouldn’t get to it. It worked well. No one has ever found my hiding spot.”

  Celia had never noticed a loose board, and if her parents had, they’d never mentioned it. “Which one is it?” she asked, looking down. Grammy wasn’t sure, so Celia crouched down and tried one board after another. All of them were shut tight. “Should I get a screwdriver and start prying them open?” Celia asked.

  Her grandmother’s forehead furrowed in thought. “Wait just a minute. Let me think.” She walked to the center of the room and closed her eyes for what seemed like a long time. Just when Celia was about to ask if she was okay, Grammy’s eyes flicked open and she spoke. “Josie’s bed was over there.” She pointed. “And mine was there on the other side.” Her arm moved to the left. “There were two dressers on the wall behind me. And the loose board was—” She hesitated and then slowly her arm swung to one side and aimed itself at Celia’s desk. “Right there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Grammy nodded. “I remember now.”

  The desk was on rolling casters so it wouldn’t scratch the wood. Celia’s mother was particular about the hardwood floors. Celia slid the desk smoothly to one side and looked at the floor below.

  “That one, right there,” her grandmother said, her outstretched arm shaking with anticipation.

  As Celia knelt down, her left knee pressed against the wood, causing the plank to pop up. She smiled up at Grammy. “I think we’ve found it.”

  Grammy pulled the desk chair forward and sat, leaning forward. “Oh hurry,” she said, “I can’t wait to see it again after all this time.”

  The board lifted with a squeak. Below it, Celia found a small metal box. After she took it out, the wood plank dropped with a thud. “It’s a little dusty, Grammy,” she said, gingerly tapping the top.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised, after all these years.”

  Celia blew the dust off the lid, flipped the latch, and opened it. Inside was a leather pouch with a drawstring top. Celia held it in the palm of her hand for a moment, surprised at how light it was.

  “Open it, darling. Don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid. I just thought it would be bigger.” Celia tugged at the drawstring and pulled out a silver flute about four inches in length. The first thing she noticed was how it sparkled in the light. The second thing she noticed was that it was broken. “It looks like it’s been snapped in two,” Celia said. She opened the drawstring bag and looked inside. “What happened to the other half?”

  “Let me see.” Grammy took the flute and inspected it. “Oh dear, you’re right, it is broken. That’s odd, it wasn’t this way when I saw it the last time.” She looked up at Celia. “The other part isn’t in the bag?”

  Celia turned the bag upside down and shook it. “Nope, and it’s not in the metal box.” She lifted up the wooden plank and inspected the area beneath. “Not here either.”

  “Puzzling,” her grandmother said. “Maybe Mira will know what happened to the other half. I got the flute from the fairies to begin with, you know.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, it was a gift from Mira’s boss, a fairy named Trapeza. She said I was special. Very few humans can see and hear fairies, you know. That means you and I are very special. The flute was given to me as a thank-you for saving Mira’s life. It has magic power, or at least it did before it was broken.”

  “What magic does it have?” Celia asked.

  Grammy said, “As I recall, the true owner of the flute, which was me, was entitled to one wish, but there was a catch. The wish could only be used for something important. There were three rules for wishing, too. The first was that I couldn’t wish for more wishes.” She laughed. “That’s the oldest one in the book, I think, but people still try it, I guess.”

  “What were the other rules?”

  “I don’t really remember.” Her grandmother had a faraway look in her eyes. “I knew at the time, and I was careful to follow them, but it was so long ago.” She reached down and patted Celia’s shoulder. “Anyway, you can take that piece with you when you go to talk to Mira and explain that’s how you found it.”

  Celia turned the instrument over and inspected it. Her half only had two openings: a bowl-shaped blowhole and one opening below that. She lifted the flute to her lips, but no matter how hard she blew, no sound came out. She looked at her grandmother with disappointment. “It doesn’t work anymore.”

  “Back when I had it, it only worked when you really needed it.” Grammy stroked Celia’s hair and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “I onl
y blew into it once, and that was right before I made my wish. It made the most beautiful music. That’s how I knew my wish would come true.”

  “And what was your wish?”

  “It’s very complicated,” her grandmother said. “Someday, when you’re a little older, I’ll tell you the whole story.”

  “I really don’t understand any of this,” Celia said with a sad shake of her head.

  “You don’t need to be worried, darling. Mira will explain what you’ll need to know. Go on out to the woods and talk to her. It will all work out. You’ll see.”

  “Will you go with me?” Celia felt a surge of doubt mixed with fear. The frightening dream was still on her mind. But nothing bad could happen if her grandmother was with her, she was sure of it.

  “Oh no, darling. I can’t see or hear fairies anymore.” Grammy shook her head sadly. “My time for magic is long past. This is something you have to do for yourself.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The path into the woods had been there as long as Celia could remember. Oddly enough, it never became overgrown with weeds, even though it rarely got much foot traffic. Her father said it had been there when he was a boy as well and that the grass had been stamped down for so many years that it always remembered to lie flat.

  Celia headed down the path with the flute in hand. It would take a few minutes to get to the place she and Paul called the Triple Trees, three trees clustered so close together that their highest branches interlaced like they were holding hands. The space beneath the trees was shady, even on the brightest days. The Triple Trees felt like magic to Celia, and when she and Paul played there, their pretend games always took on an otherworldly sensation.

  She walked slowly, mindful of the chirping of birds and the way the breeze whipped the grass on either side of her. Celia was aware of everything around her, it seemed, except that she was being followed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When Grammy answered the knock at the front door, she was surprised to see Vicky McClutchy standing there. “Why if it isn’t little Vicky all grown up,” she said with a grin. “I haven’t seen you in more years than I can count. You look wonderful.”

  Vicky flashed a wide smile, her lips stretching over a row of brilliant white teeth. “Hi, Mrs. Lovejoy, it’s good to see you too.”

  “I’m sorry, dear, but I’m the only one here. My son and his wife are at work, and Celia is out right now. If you want to try Jonathan at his office, I can give you the number.”

  “Oh no.” Vicky McClutchy held up a hand. “I came to see you, actually. I was hoping we could have a little talk.”

  “Well, of course. Come on in.” Once they were settled at the kitchen table with cinnamon tea and butter cookies, Grammy said, “I read in the paper that you’re now involved in the county government. How do you find time to run a company and serve on the county board?”

  “Not too many people could manage so well,” Vicky said, sipping her tea, “but the county really needed someone strong to take charge, so I make time. We have a lot of new projects in the works, particularly in the transportation department. This county has been in need of an updated highway system for eons. I think people will be very surprised at some of our plans.”

  “I had no idea,” Grammy said. “Good for you. And I see your sister has been taking good care of your parents’ old house.” For over a hundred years, the Lovejoys and the McClutchys had been neighbors. Celia’s grandmother was old enough to remember Vicky’s grandfather when he was a little boy, and all the children and grandchildren that came after that.

  “Yes, my sister and her husband got the house after my folks retired to Florida.” Vicky broke a cookie in half and sighed. “I wanted it, which would have only been fair since I am older, but they thought it should go to her since it was a family home and she has a child.” She made a face.

  “Ah, yes, your nephew, Paul. He and Celia are good friends, I understand. Such a nice boy.”

  Vicky waved a hand in the air. “Yes, that’s the one. Paul.” She sighed heavily and then took a sip of tea. “Anyway, the reason I wanted to talk to you is because I was hoping you could talk some sense into that son of yours. We had a business meeting and I made him the offer of a lifetime, but he says he’s not interested. His wife was willing to listen, but Jonathan walked right out of my office without even letting me finish. People don’t walk out on me very often, I can tell you that much.” Her eyes narrowed.

  Grammy laughed. “I’m not sure I can help you with that. Jonathan has always been rather strong-minded. Even as a child, he was stubborn.”

  “I remember,” Vicky said. “There was a time when we were best friends. We did everything together. And then one day he wouldn’t play with me anymore. I came to the door and he just sent me away, said he didn’t want to come out. And that was it. The end of everything.”

  “Children do outgrow friendships, I guess.” Grammy gave her a sympathetic look. “That’s the sad truth of it.”

  Vicky shook her head. “But we were best friends. We did everything together.” She vividly recalled the hurt and shock of that day. After Jonathan had shut the door in her face, she’d walked home crying. Then she’d locked herself in her bedroom and tore the head off every doll she owned. The anger had stuck with her all these years. It was Jonathan’s fault she never was happy again. He had to make a big deal out of the fact that she’d told the other kids his secret about the fairy dream. So what if she did? That wasn’t a good reason to end a friendship. He’d overreacted. Vicky swallowed and continued. “Best friends for years, and then—nothing. I haven’t had a best friend since. Not that I need a best friend,” she added hurriedly. “I’m a serious businesswoman. If you want to build a multimillion-dollar company, you can’t afford to spend time socializing. Friends are for people who have nothing better to do.”

  “I heard that you were very successful,” Grammy said. “Good for you. Your hard work paid off.” She reached for the teapot and added to their cups. “So what did you want with Jonathan then? I can’t imagine he has much to offer someone like you. He’s just a small business owner. He and Michelle work more for the love of it than the money. They aren’t getting rich, that’s for sure.”

  Vicky tapped her hand against the table, making the cups rattle. “That’s why it’s so infuriating that he won’t listen to my offer. He doesn’t have to work so hard for so little. I’m willing to pay him more than he would make in a lifetime if he’d sell me his business. He and Michelle could do anything with the kind of money I’m talking about. They could retire for life.”

  Grammy looked surprised. “The business? But dear, Jonathan wouldn’t ever sell Lovejoy World. It’s his life, his calling. He adores making toys and games that make children happy. The work they do there makes the world a better place.”

  “Oh please.” Vicky puffed up her cheeks and blew air out, exasperated. “It’s just a company, Mrs. Lovejoy. Profit and loss statements. Employee paychecks. Hiring and firing people and keeping your eye on them to make sure they don’t steal from you. Suppliers and vendors, blah, blah, blah.” She waved a hand in the air. “The world is what it is. If Jonathan thinks his toys and games are making a difference, he’s fooling himself.”

  “If running a business is so much trouble, why would you want to buy Jonathan’s?” Grammy asked.

  Vicky smiled and stirred her tea. “For the challenge. With my business sense, I think I could turn Lovejoy World around and make it a big moneymaker. ”

  Grammy gave Vicky a puzzled look. “And how would you do that?”

  “Once I bought it, I’d own the rights to all the games and toys, of course. With some changes, a few of them could be the hot toys of next season. The rest I’d eliminate. To further cut costs, I’d have everything manufactured overseas.”

  “But what about the employees?” Grammy asked.

  “The Lovejoy employees would get the opportunity to find other jobs elsewhere.”

  “You’d fire
the employees?” Grammy was aghast, thinking about all the people who worked at Lovejoy World: J.J., the boy who pushed the broom; Manuel, the electronics wizard; Marge, who designed the stuffed animals; and all the ladies who chatted as they assembled the toys and brought cookies as treats for the others. She’d visited her son’s business many times and was always impressed by the care and pride put into the work. What would the employees do if they came to the factory one day and were locked out? This wasn’t just a job for them. It was their life. “You can’t fire the employees! They’re like family.”

  Vicky shrugged. “It happens all the time in business. You can’t get too sentimental if you want to run a successful company. I’ve learned to cut out the dead weight. I wouldn’t worry about the employees. If they have half a brain, they’ll find other jobs. If they can’t, it’s their own fault.”

  “Well,” Grammy said, “I must say that I’m very glad Jonathan is not taking your offer.”

  Vicky shrugged. “Just because he hasn’t taken my offer yet doesn’t mean this is over. I don’t give up that easily.”

  Grammy smiled. “Yes, I think I remember how determined you were even as a child. You won the National Science Fair award one year, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, first place. Jonathan was second.” Vicky smiled at the memory. She still had the trophy in her condo downtown. Sometimes she took it off the shelf and polished it. She loved to remember the look on Jonathan’s face when they called her name as the winner. He’d been so sure he had won, but she’d been victorious instead. Now she found it infuriating that Jonathan’s toys won all the awards while hers were passed over by the judges because they were too violent.