My Fairy Godmonster (6 page)

She puts me down and removes her gloves. Long
claws with red fingernail polish extend beyond her four, graceful
fingers.

“W-who are you?” I stammer. I can’t stop my
knees from shaking.

“The Big Bad Wolf,” she laughs, running her
claws through orange, spiky hair.

“Yeah, right.”

She smiles and I glimpse those white
fangs.

I gasp.

“Chill. I don’t harm my assignments. Except
for that Striplehook who kept trying to grope me. Had to knock him
out.”

I can’t speak.

“Not a scaredy cat, are you?” she
grumbles.

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“That’s a relief. It will make things
easier.”

She swings the whip around her head.

I yell and flatten myself on the ground.

“Oh, get a grip.”

Her whip fizzles like a wet firecracker and
hangs limp.

She stares at it. “Cripes, what a bother.
Let’s hope those idiots get things sorted out. The faster the
better.”

I drag myself up. “Who are you?”

She smoothes the one wrinkle in her jumpsuit.
“Your Fairy Godmonster.”

“Sure you are,” I say. “And I’m Little Red
Riding Hood.”

Her yellow eyes turn black.

“Look. It’s like this. FIMM is frozen.”

“FIMM?” I ask.

“The Fairy Instantaneous Manifestation
Monitor. It regulates Fairy Godmothers, Fairy Godfathers, Fairy
Godpets and the best of all, Fairy Godmonsters.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“You need a Fairy Godmother.”

“Huh-uh,” I say.

“FIMM doesn’t make mistakes. Your Fairy
Godmother was almost here when she crashed into my bike. It caused
an electrical malfunction in the biorhythmic alpha particles of
FIMM. I ended up here instead of Monsterdome.”

Her eyes gleam. “I wonder how your Fairy
Godmother is doing there?” She purrs, then laughs. “She’ll
definitely be freaked out.”

My head spins.

She whacks the top of the whip and it curls
up so fast that I wonder if I saw it.

Shoving it into her belt, her fox-like tail
flips in irritation.

“Why the whip?” I ask, biting my tongue to
keep from snickering at her tail.

“Magic wand.”

I giggle. Can’t help myself and burst out
laughing. I grab my mouth when she glares at me. It doesn’t help. I
can’t stop laughing. Tears run down my face and I clutch my aching
stomach.

She watches me for a while.

“Do you need a slap in the face?” she
asks.

I stop laughing and look into her concerned,
luminous eyes. Unfortunately, I see the wings of the motorcycle
behind her. I chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“How come
you
don’t have
wings?”

“Wings are so last-century.”

My hysterics last until she touches my face
with one claw.

“Are you finished?” she purrs.

I hear motors in the distance and Dad
shouting, “Winifred, Winifred. Can you hear me?”

“It’s my dad!”

She exclaims, “Oh bother! I can’t be
seen.”

“You’re invisible to others?”

“Not as long as FIMM malfunctions,” she said
in disgust.

“Quick, disappear!” I exclaim.

“I can’t,” whispers Fairy Godmonster. “My
whip won’t work.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“My powers are limited without it.”

“Winifred.” Scott’s voice calls now.

“Hide!” I plead. “They’ll be here any
minute.”

Fairy Godmonster looks around. She grabs her
cycle and hurls it under some large bushes. She leaps to a low
hanging tree branch and glides up the trunk like a snake, snarling
when the needles pierce her hands. She disappears into the high
branches.

“Don’t move,” I warn. “Stay there. I have
enough problems.”

Needles and small branches fall to the ground
as she hides.

Dad and Scott drive in on three-wheelers.

I run toward them to keep them from coming
into the meadow.

“Win!” Dad shuts off his motor. “Didn’t you
hear us calling? Are you all right?” He looks me over from head to
foot.

“I’m fine.” I ignore his first question.

I hold my breath and hope Fairy Godmonster
doesn’t move. What if her yellow boots show in the trees?

Dad continues, “When Scott told me Dancer
came back without you or a saddle and bridle, I was worried.” He
hugs me.

“What happened?” asks Scott.

“Something scared Dancer. I wasn’t expecting
him to stop and I came off.”

“That’s not like Dancer,” says Dad. “What
frightened him?”

I can’t tell him about ‘you know who,’ so I
say, “He spooked at a cloud of mist.”

Dad looks into my eyes. He can always tell if
I’m lying. Luckily, he believes the

part of the truth I tell him.

“Can we go home? I’m hungry.”

Dad laughs. “That’s my girl. You missed
lunch, but I think Erminia left a sandwich for you.”

Scott says, “You okay? You look as white as a
ghost.”

Not now, I don’t. Heat sneaks up my neck.

“Sure,” I mumble. “You just have to know how
to roll when you land.”

“Famous forward dismount?” Dad grins.

I laugh. “How’d you guess?”

He frowns. “Where’s your helmet?”

I cringe, “Forgot it.”

“That’s not like you. What happened?”

I don’t look at Scott and hope he doesn’t say
anything about Weasel’s insults. “Nothing. I was in a hurry.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” growls Dad.

He jumps on his three-wheeler and starts the
motor.

Scott smiles at me. “Hop on.”

“I drive,” I say.

He jumps off and smiles. “Your wish is my
command.” He sits behind me.

I ignore my burning face and start the motor.
Not prepared when his arms circle my waist, I floor the gas pedal.
A surge of energy electrifies my body.

“Hot-rodder!” Scott laughs.

We head for home and I hear a loud CRACK and
THUMP in the woods behind us.

Scott, whispers in my ear, “What was
that?”

The chills up and down my spine from his arms
almost make me let go of the handlebars.

“Do you mind not talking? I’m trying to
drive.”

He continues, “Just a warning. Mrs. Dudley
needs to see you about the wedding.”

I forgot about the wedding. His warmth makes
my mind numb.

Could my life get any worse? Yes. If I knew
what was going to happen next, I would have stayed in the forest
and begged Fairy Godmonster to take me to Monsterdome.

Chapter 11: Fasten Seat Belt – Curves

I check the fridge when we get home. No
sandwich. Stupid Weasel. Grabbing an apple, I follow Dad and Scott
into the living room where everyone is gathered.

“Win, are you all right? I was so worried.”
Claire rushes to hug me.

“I’m fine. Even the best riders come off
their horses once in a while.”

“Thank goodness. I don’t want anything to
happen to my new sister.”

John adds, “Yeah, I need you to hold me up
during the ceremony, Win. I’m going to be in shock when my best
friend loses his freedom.”

David laughs. “You’re jealous because I met
Claire first.”

“Darn right,” John says. “I’ll have to
remember your technique and sprawl over

some beautiful girl’s car hood.”

Everybody laughs, except Weasel. “Charles, we
need you and Scott to accompany us to town.”

“We need measurements for your tux, Dad,”
David says. He takes Dad aside.

I scoot over to listen.

David adds, ”I need your support and approval
for my garden plans.”

“I expect at least two hundred guests,
David,” says Weasel. “Where do you plan to seat them? From what
I’ve seen, you will need a bulldozer to make room.”

“You can’t rip up the garden!” I yell. My
heart beats like it will explode.

“Calm down, Sis.” David pats my head and I
pull away angrily. “I’ve got a plan that will keep the integrity of
the garden, yet enhance it.”

“I want it the way it is.”

Weasel interjects, “We don’t always get what
we want when other people are involved, Winifred.”

I almost scream at her until I see Dad shake
his head at me. I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth.

Mr. Dudley says, “I’m sure that with David’s
talents and my money, the garden will be beautiful.”

Dad stiffens.

Mr. Dudley’s phone rings, breaking the
tension in the room.

Daria pulls on his sleeve. “Daddy, you
promised. No phone today.”

“In a minute, Daria.”

The hurt in Daria’s eyes matches the growing
crack in my heart. She sees me watching her and turns away.

I plead with Dad. “Dad, you can’t - ”

“We’ll handle it Winifred. You have enough to
do. Have you talked with Erminia about the division of chores?”

“No.” I swallow the lump in my throat and
hold back tears.

Mr. Dudley’s usually quiet voice raises to an
ugly roar. “Sell immediately! I don’t need your opinion!” He hangs
up. It rings again. “Yes?” He relaxes and nods his head. “The
limousine is waiting outside.”

Wow, I wouldn’t want to work for Mr. Dudley.
When he’s mad, he’s scarier than Weasel.

She announces, “The limousine seats eight
comfortably.”

I count nine.

She continues, “I’d like to ask a favor of
Winifred.”

I don’t raise my eyes to hers.

“David says you have excellent penmanship.”
She pretends to smile.

I look at David. He mouths, ‘I’m sorry.’

She continues, “I was hoping you could stay
here and address the invitations for Claire. They need to go out
tomorrow. We only have three weeks, which isn’t a proper amount of
time. It can’t be helped. Will you be a dear and help us out?”

Now I exist? When she wants something from
me?

“Sure,” I say. I can’t stand the thought of
going anywhere with Weasel. My idea of a limousine ride has me in a
prom dress sitting next to a boy. Besides, how hard can it be?

“We need a dress and shoes for Winifred,
too,” says Claire. “She can’t stay here.”

“I’ll stay and help Winifred.” Scott smiles
and I look at him gratefully.

Weasel says, “Tux measurements are more
difficult. We need you to come with us, Scott. I’m sure we can find
an appropriate dress for Winifred. What size do you wear?”

I squirm as everybody looks at me. “Two in
dresses, four in shoes.”

“Measure the length, Claire.”

Claire frowns. “Do you have a measuring tape,
Winifred?”

I get the tape and Claire whispers, “I’m
sorry. It’s my responsibility to do the invitations.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to go
with you anyway.” I see her wince, and feel bad.

Claire sighs. “I hope someday we can be like
sisters. Please stand on your toes while I measure.”

Daria runs over and wraps her arm around
Claire. “She’s my sister. You’re just an outlaw.”

I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Yeah,
and you’d better watch out. You know what outlaws do.” I turn away
from Weasel and point my imaginary guns at Daria.

Daria scuttles to her mother.

Weasel corrects her daughter. “Daria, the
word is in-law.” She turns to me. “Everything is on the dining
table, Winifred. Use two envelopes per invitation. The names and
addresses go on the outside envelope. The names of the addressees
go on the inside envelope. I left an example. Come everyone. Time
to go.”

Dad pulls me aside. “I don’t like what’s
happening.”

“Neither do I, Dad. How come I don’t have any
say about anything around here anymore?”

He ignores the question, his mind elsewhere.
“I have never met a woman as pushy as Erminia. I don’t know how to
handle her.”

“I don’t want to go anyway.”

“You’ll be all right?” he asks.

“Fine.”

“I’ll take the cell phone in case you need to
call.” He smiles, kisses me on the cheek and is gone.

Weasel looks back at me before she goes out
the door. “Thank you, Winifred.”

She makes a ‘thank you’ sound like an
insult.

I don’t watch them leave. I stomp into the
dining room and find a table full of boxes.

I snatch ‘The List’ and flip to the last
page. Five hundred names! Double the envelopes! It will take as
much time putting the addresses on the computer as doing it by
hand. I need food to tackle this job.

I make a sandwich out of roast beef, mustard
and dill pickles. My favorite. Then I notice the silence. Dashing
to the stable to find Kong, I wonder how Fairy Godmonster is doing
alone in the forest. I let the dog out and he follows me into the
house. Since Daria’s gone, I don’t think it matters.

Kong looks at my sandwich and slobbers. I
give it to him and make myself another. Then, I tackle the
invitations. Three hours later, I unbend my cramped fingers to
answer the phone.

“Hello.”

“It’s Dad. This is taking longer than I
thought. We’re going into Salem. We’ll have to eat dinner
there.”

“You’re in Sisters?”

“Yes. Erminia can’t find what she wants here.
We’ll be home very late. You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah.”

I eat boxed macaroni, feed the horses and
continue doing the invitations. The pen runs out of ink. I head to
my bedroom to get another one. Kong follows me upstairs.

I open my bedroom door, forgetting about the
cat.

Kong jumps for the bed.

Godzilla sits in the middle of it, licking
her fur. She takes one look at Kong and puffs up like a
blowfish.

Kong spots the ferocious cat and twists
midair to avoid her. He plops on the pillow.

Godzilla arches her back and slowly stalks
him.

“No!” I yell at the cat.

She hisses and spits in fury.

Kong yelps and falls off the bed
backward.

Godzilla takes a flying leap after him, fangs
bared. She misses and claws Daria’s curtains.

I’m amazed Kong can move so fast. He squishes
under the dresser.