The Wish Stealers (15 page)

Dear Mr. Brian Patterson Forester,
I’m a friend of your son, Garrett. I Googled you and found out you lived in Nome. I hope I’m writing to the right person. If I am, please write back.
There is something I need to tell you. Thank you.

Sincerely,
G. Penshine

She enclosed this letter in an envelope, sealed it, and wrote on the front:

Please forward mail to Mr. Brian Patterson Forester of Nome, Alaska, catcher of the big fish. Thank you.
From: G. Penshine.

In very neat cursive letters Griffin wrote the address to the
Nome Nugget
, care of the fishing department, on the outside of the second envelope.

Griffin thought she would mail these letters from the mailbox by the school yard. If her mom found out she was sending letters to strangers, she’d
really
get in trouble. Maybe she shouldn’t even sign her name? Maybe she should use a fake address?
Wait a minute!
thought Griffin. Maybe she should use her grandma’s address? Griffin decided to use her own address on Florence’s letter, and her grandmother’s address on Garrett’s dad’s envelope. Two strange letters coming to her house would be too obvious. The grandfather clock chimed again. Griffin’s parents were fast asleep.

She reached under her bed and removed the ring, black mirror, and yarn from Mariah’s box. Griffin placed the ring on
top of the mirror.
Why did Mariah give these to me?

“Owwww!” Griffin’s hand shot up to cover her eyes from a blaring light. The garnet ring and mirror threw a violent glow onto the ceiling, bathing the whole room a bloody red. Steadying herself, Griffin squinted her eyes and examined the ring again. She picked up the black disc, the strange stone polished like a smooth lake. She gazed into its pools of darkness. Her reflection was distorted. In the blackness she looked like an old lady.
Is that my future? A rotted Wish Stealer like Mariah?
thought Griffin. She flung the black disc under the bed, where it shattered into shards. “Oh, no!” Then she jumped into bed and, tunneling under the covers, she gathered the blankets tight all around her.

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

—Langston Hughes

G
riffin lumbered her way through the hallways toward the science room. Today the oral reports on famous scientists were due. Carrying her clumsy poster board made it difficult to walk. The board caught currents in the hallway as if a wind were blowing against her.

“Hi, Libby. Can’t wait to see you at my sleepover party on Saturday!” called Samantha as Libby and Griffin walked down the hall. “It’s going to be so much fun! Free makeup and my dad’s products for all of us.”

Griffin could hardly move with all her books and the poster flapping against her body, but she turned in time to
look at Samantha. The girls surrounding Samantha shot Griffin nasty looks as she passed them. “Libby?” said Griffin, confused.

“She e-mailed me really late last night. I’ll tell you about it later. I’m so not going,” she whispered. “I can’t believe her parents let her have a party, like, every weekend!”

Griffin’s heart whirled. She’d talked to Libby late last night on the phone. Why hadn’t Libby told her about Samantha’s invitation? Would Libby change her mind and go to Samantha’s party?

A new feeling twisted in her stomach.

“Bye, Griff,” said Libby as they parted for different hallways. Griffin continued alone to the science room.

“Okay. Let’s see how the projects turned out,” said Mr. Luckner as kids shuffled into the classroom. “Put your posters on the back counter and then take a seat.” Griffin dropped her books onto her desk.

“Hey, Griffin. If I don’t finish my stupid science night project, I’m going to fail because of your no homework idea!” said David Hunt.

“You’d fail because you didn’t do your project. Don’t blame me!” she said.

“Collie Redmond, a report on Albert Einstein,” called Mr. Luckner.

“I, uh, was working so hard on science night that I got behind,” said Collie.

“No excuses. Next. Harrison Slovis, Sir Isaac Newton. Come on up …”

“Mr. Luckner, the science night thing has really—”

“Are you ready to give your report today or not?” boomed Mr. Luckner from the back of the room, where he sat to grade the presentations.

“Nope.”

“Next: Griffin Penshine,” called Mr. Luckner. “Have you completed your Marie Curie report?”

Griffin stood up. Hard, mean stares sliced through her. The closer the science night deadline, the madder everyone became. “Yes,” said Griffin as she walked to the front of the class. David Hunt’s and Michael Janis’s faces snarled with hostility. Even the skeleton in the back of the room seemed to grin an evil smile. Garrett’s desk was empty.
Where was he?
Looking out at the class, Griffin felt nauseous. “Marie Curie was one of the most famous scientists in the world.”

“We don’t care!” whispered Michael Janis, sitting in the front row.

Griffin cleared her throat and continued. “Marie was born in Poland in 1867, studied in France, and won two Nobel Prizes, in physics and in chemistry.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s dead!” mumbled David Hunt, also sitting in the front.

Griffin narrowed her eyes at him. “For four years, night and day, she worked in an unheated shed to discover the element radium.”

“Nerd!” heckled Michael.

Gritting her teeth, clenching her jaw, and planting her feet on the tiled floor, Griffin said the next few lines of her report staring at Michael and David. “Many people made fun of Marie Curie, told her she was crazy, said she couldn’t be a scientist, that she was just a woman, that she was reaching too high. People were cruel, stupid, and mean to her, but Marie Curie never gave up. She never let people’s ignorance, jealousy, or fear stop her.”

David and Michael stared back.

“Marie Curie said if she ever was lucky enough to find radium, she hoped it would have a beautiful color. When she did finally find it, radium was more than a beautiful color, it had
spontaneous luminosity,
which meant it was bright and glowing like a star. Marie Curie is one of the most respected and famous scientists to ever live.”

“Thank you, Griffin,” said Mr. Luckner. “I like how you focused on her persistence. Overall, great job. Though I
would have liked to hear more about her daily dedication and routine. Nice poster.”

Griffin sat in her seat, her face as red as her hair and almost as red as the cardboard Mars whirling over her head.

We must have perseverance
and above all confidence in ourselves.

—Marie Curie

A
fter class Griffin trudged back to her locker. A yellow Post-it note stuck on it read:

NOT INVITED

Griffin flicked the sticker off and jammed it into her backpack. Stacking her books on the cold linoleum floor, she turned her head in time to see that freckled boy who had been working in the back of the metal shop the other day. He passed by her locker, stared, but didn’t say a word. Then from the corner of her eye she noticed Kristina headed toward her.

“Hey, Griffin,” said Kristina.

“Hi, Kristina,” Griffin said sadly. If only someone would give
her
a real lucky penny right then.

“Griffin, I want you to know nothing has happened since I made that wish on the penny you gave me! ‘Most beautiful’—what a joke! I tried out for the tap-dancing team, the drill team, and the cheerleading team and messed up in all of them.”

“I’m sorry, Kristina.”

“You said the penny was lucky, but I just looked really dumb.”

“You didn’t look dumb, Kristina. You tried.”

“I wish I could get that stupid penny back from the water fountain and undo my wish, because I think that penny was unlucky.” Kristina’s face began turning a blotchy red color. “Actually, I think
you’re
unlucky, Griffin!”

Griffin slammed her locker hard. “No, Kristina, I’m not. Maybe your mom was right about you!”

“You’re mean!” said Kristina, turning and running down the hall.

Why did I say that? I’m becoming a Wish Stealer!
thought Griffin. “Kristina!” called Griffin, but her voice just echoed in the empty hallway.

After school Griffin slunk toward the sidewalk mailbox. Would Libby, her best friend since first grade when they’d
both accidently worn matching socks three days in a row, want to become friends with Samantha? Could Samantha bewitch even Libby? Griffin’s heart plummeted. Would Samantha convince Libby to go to her party?

A creak let out when Griffin opened the slot and dropped the two letters in. “Good luck,” she muttered, and shuffled away, head bowed. Griffin looked at her watch. The first raindrop splattered on her head.

Honk! Honk!
sounded from her father’s car.

Her dad rolled down his window. “Hurry, Griff. It’s going to pour!”

Griffin slid into the passenger seat.

“Hi. A big storm is coming to Dadesville. Weatherman predicts six inches of rain—thunder, lightning, the whole shebang. We have to go to Grandma’s house and stock her up with food before your music lesson. She’s not feeling so well.”