The World's Worst Fairy Godmother (8 page)

“Boy,” Maybelle muttered to Dr. Dekter. “She's as gone as he is.”

“Yes,” said the doctor. “And it's all very sweet. But you've got another problem right now.”

“Like what?”

“Like a village full of angry parents!” he said, pointing toward the forest.

Even as he spoke, most of the population of the village came pouring out of the woods. The parents had their children firmly in tow, carrying them over their shoulders or pulling them along by their ears. The children were screaming and squalling, kicking and shouting.

“Let me go!” screeched Susan.
“Let me go!”

“Look!” cried a woman at the front of the crowd. “There she is!”

She was pointing at Edna.

“I saw her waving a wand over the children,” continued the woman. “She's the witch who caused all this!”

“Witch?” said Edna in disbelief.

“And that other woman is her helper!” shouted Susan's mother. “They came to my house yesterday and persuaded me to send Susan into the woods. That's when she changed. They must have cast an evil spell on her!”

“Evil spell?” asked Maybelle in astonishment.

“There's only one way to break a witch's spell!” shouted one of the men. “Burn her!”

The villagers took up the cry. “Burn them! Burn the witches!”

Chapter Thirteen
Out of the Blue

“Edna!” cried Maybelle. “Do something!”

“I can't do anything,” said Edna, and for the first time Maybelle heard fear in her voice. “I have no powers.
You
do something.”

“But…” Maybelle took a deep breath. “Oh, all right. Here goes nothing.” Lifting her wand, she waved it at the crowd and shouted,
“Zitzenspratz!”

Immediately, everything went dark.

Edna sighed. “For heaven's sake, Maybelle, turn on the lights.”

“Sorry. Brechensprech!”

Lightning crackled all around them. Horrendous bursts of thunder shook the sky. The darkness remained.

“Maybelle,” said Edna quietly. “That's very exciting, but it's not going to help. In fact it will probably make things worse.”

“I know, I know!” said Maybelle desperately. Waving her wand, she shouted, “Cut!”

Instantly the thunder and lightning stopped. The light came back, and everyone could see again.

“Oh, lordy!” cried Zozmagog. “I know what the problem is!” Snatching Edna's wand, he handed it to Maybelle. “Here,” he said. “Use this one!”

He was too late. Several of the men had raced forward and grabbed the two women.

“Leave them alone!” cried Dr. Dekter angrily.

“Stay out of this, old man,” shouted one of the villagers. “Now, witch, prepare to meet your Maker!”

“Actually, I already have,” said Maybelle. “He's quite nice. Frankly, I don't think he would approve of this.”

“Kindly take your hands off me,” said Edna in frosty tones to the man who held her. “I am not a witch!”

“Oh,” he sneered. “Then what are you?”

“A fairy godmother!”

The men burst into laughter. “And I suppose this is just a sweet little cherub,” said one of them, gesturing at Zozmagog.

“As a matter of fact, that's exactly what he is,” said Edna fiercely.

The men laughed harder than ever.

“This is not funny!” said Edna.

“I'll say it's not!” shouted one of the women, who was struggling to hold on to a screaming, shouting little girl. “What have you done to these children?”

“Bewitched them!” shouted another woman. “That's what they've done! Bewitched them!”

“Burn them!” roared the crowd. “Burn the witches!”

“No!” cried Susan.

“Susan!” hissed Mrs. Pfenstermacher. “Be quiet.”

“I won't!”

“Take Susan away,” said one of the men. “Take them all away. What we have to do now is not for children's eyes.”

Susan squirmed free of her mother's grasp and ran to stand in front of Maybelle. “Don't you touch her!” she cried. “They're telling the truth. She is a fairy godmother. She's my fairy godmother!”

“Susan!” cried Mr. Pfenstermacher. “Come away from there. That woman is dangerous! She might… might… turn you into a frog!”

“Hey,” said Maybelle. “No fair bringing up old mistakes.”

Several of the men began to advance on her, muttering menacingly.

“I'm warning you,” said Susan. “Don't touch this woman! She's the only person who has ever liked me. And I… I… I love her!”

The world seemed to hold its breath. There was a moment of deep and mysterious silence. Then an enormous crack of thunder sounded overhead.

Susan sighed and collapsed in a heap at Maybelle's feet.

At the same time the other children stopped squirming and struggling.

A sense of peace seemed to settle over the villagers.

“Susan did it!” cried Edna. “She broke the spell. Congratulations, Maybelle!”

Susan shook her head and sat up. “What happened?” she asked, sounding groggy.

The townspeople were all asking pretty much the same thing, shouting, “What happened? What's going on?”

“Make way, make way!” cried a stern voice. It was the blind beggar to whom Susan had given a coin the day before. “Be quiet,” he said, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. “All of you.”

He spoke softly now, but his voice held a strength and a power that immediately calmed the crowd. Their shouts grew softer, turning to mutters, then fading to silence.

The beggar turned to Susan. “Well done, young lady!” he said. “I didn't think you had it in you.”

“Who are you?” asked Susan, staggering to her feet.

“My name is Mr. Peters,” said the beggar, pulling off his hood and taking off his dark spectacles.

“Well, I never!” said Maybelle in astonishment. “Look at that, Edna!”

“I decided to watch you up close this time, Maybelle,” said Mr. Peters. “You made some awful blunders.”

“Boy, you can say that again, boss. Well, we might as well get it over with. Take my wings. Break my wand. Tarnish my halo!” She sighed. “There's nothing worse than a failed fairy godmother.”

“But Maybelle, you're no failure. You said it yourself: Susan needed to learn to love. It was your open heart that brought out that love. That's the most important thing a fairy godmother could ever do. Failure? Maybelle—you're a smashing success!”

Maybelle blinked in astonishment. “Love, huh? Gee, that's pretty classy.”

“It beats the heck out of magic apples,” said Mr. Peters.

Edna, who was standing behind Maybelle, began to sniffle.

Maybelle turned around. “Why Edna,” she said. “What's the matter?”

“I'm so embarrassed!” wailed the tall fairy godmother. “Mr. Peters has seen what I've done!”

“What did you do?” asked Maybelle, genuinely puzzled.

“I fell in love!”

“Oh, that,” said Maybelle, waving her hand as if shaking something away. “You should never be embarrassed about loving someone.”

Mr. Peters nodded. “Well put, Maybelle. She's right, Edna. You mustn't be embarrassed about loving someone.”

“But the rules…” sniffed Edna.

“Are made to be broken,” said Mr. Peters. “As in this case. The being you fell in love with is not a human but an immortal. Therefore, you can still live in the blue.”

“Wonderful!” said Maybelle.

“What about Zozmagog?” asked Edna, putting a protective hand on his shoulder.

Mr. Peters smiled. “He comes, too. But I'll warn you, he's going to have to earn his way.”

“How can I do that?” asked Zozmagog.

“I want you and Edna to start a school to train fairy godmothers. You should be very useful, Zozmagog; you can teach the trainees about some of the dirty tricks they can expect to face from imps.” He stooped to pick up Maybelle's wand. “Tricks like sabotaged magic wands.”

“Why you little devil!” said Maybelle.

Out of habit, Zozmagog looked around, looking for someone else to blame. When he realized that wasn't possible, he said softly, “Sorry about that, Maybelle.”

“Now,” said Mr. Peters, “I think it's time we headed for home.”

“Not yet,” said Edna. “There's one more thing, and I want to do it now, before we go.” Turning to Maybelle, Edna lifted the Fairy Godmother of the Year medallion from around her own neck. “Here, Maybelle,” she said gently. “I think you should have this.”

“The Fairy Godmother of the Year award! Oh, no, Edna. I couldn't—”

“Take it, Maybelle,” said Mr. Peters gently. “You've earned it.”

“Gosh,” said Maybelle, as Edna placed the medallion around her neck.

“Oh, Maybelle!” cried Susan. “I'm so happy for you.” She threw her arms around Maybelle and gave her a hug. “Only—will I ever see you again?”

Maybelle smiled sadly. “I don't think so, dear. After all, you don't really need me anymore.”

“But…”

“But there's one thing you need to know. I really
do
like you. A lot! And I'll be watching over you.”

Susan smiled.

“Come along, Maybelle,” said Mr. Peters. “It's time for us to be going.”

“Hey, what about me?” cried Zitzel.

“Can he come with us?” asked Zozmagog.

“Are you kidding?” cried Zitzel. “I'd be bored silly. And I'm silly enough as it is.”

“Can he stay with us?” asked Susan, turning to her mother. “He's kind of cute.”

“Oh, Susan, really, I don't think—”

“But Mother,” said Susan, “charity begins at home.”

“I don't eat much,” added Zitzel.

“But think of all the trouble,” said Mr. Pfenstermacher.

“I prefer mischief to trouble,” said Zitzel, trying to look innocent. “Besides, I would protect the people I lived with.”

“Is that true?” asked Mrs. Pfenstermacher.

“Absolutely,” said Mr. Peters. “He would guard you against all sorts of goblins and ghoulies. Things might be a little… lively… at times. But you wouldn't have to worry about major problems.”

“Besides,” said Susan with a smile. “Think of what a bad influence he would be on me.”

Mr. and Mrs. Pfenstermacher laughed. “All right, dear,” said her father. “He can stay.”

The children all began to cheer.

“That was well done, Susan,” said Maybelle. She stretched up and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “That's for luck,” she whispered. Then she went to stand with Mr. Peters, Edna, and Zozmagog.

Mr. Peters made a gesture, and all four of them disappeared in a little puff of white smoke.

The smell of new hay and cinnamon lingered behind them, mingled with just a trace of beer and peppermint.

“Well,” said Mr. Pfenstermacher, “that was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. Are you all right, Susan?”

“I never felt better in my life,” said Susan, running to her parents and giving them each a hug.

“Me too!” cried Gustav.

“And me!” cried Helga and Ludwig and Friedrich.

“Well,” said Mrs. Pfenstermacher, “I guess they really were what they claimed to be.”

“Not exactly,” said Dr. Dekter.

“What do you mean?” asked Susan.

Dr. Dekter smiled. “Maybelle told me she was the world's worst fairy godmother. But if you ask me, she was the world's best.”

“Naturally,” said Susan. “What other kind would I have?”

And she said it with such a charming laugh that no one wanted to slap her.

A Personal History by Bruce Coville

I arrived in the world on May 16, 1950. Though I was born in the city of Syracuse, New York, I grew up as a country boy. This was because my family lived about twenty miles outside the city, and even three miles outside the little village of Phoenix, where I went to school from kindergarten through twelfth grade.