Chapter 16: Caution - Tread Softly

I’m shaking so much, I can hardly wash my stinky hands. I stumble out of the bathroom. Running downstairs, I pray Fairy Godmonster is still in the attic.

Hysterical screams come from the kitchen. Breathing hard, I stop in the doorway. Weasel jumps up and down on the table, shrieking in horror and waving her hands around her head.

She looks so funny, I laugh. The wrong thing to do.

She screams, “YOU DID THIS!”

“Did what?”

“You wretched girl. Kill them!” She points down. “On the floor!”

Several mice scatter across the floor. I snicker. “It’s only a few little mice.”

Godzilla jumps out from under the table and slides across the floor after one. Her paw snags a tail. The mouse disappears in a little flash of light.

Did I see right?

The cat crashes into the cupboard, regains her footing and streaks around the floor after the others.

Weasel screams again.

As soon as Godzilla touches them, the mice disappear. The cat meows and twists around in confusion. Right on, Fairy Godmonster.

Mr. Dudley rushes into the room and the cat zooms away.

“What in heaven’s name is the matter?” he booms.

“She put mice in the refrigerator!” Weasel points to me. “She’s a vindictive, spoiled brat.”

I stare at Weasel in shock. “I didn’t.”

“Of course you didn’t,” says Mr. Dudley. “Never been in a farmhouse that didn’t have an occasional mouse.”

“They flew out of the refrigerator,” she screeches, “and landed in my hair!” She shivers in revulsion.

Mr. Dudley frowns, “Maybe you need to lie down, Erminia. You’ve been working too hard.”

“I know a flying mouse when I see one!” she screams at him.

I laugh.

“She did it, I tell you. Mice don’t get in refrigerators.”

“Unless you leave the door open too long,” I add, giggling.

Mr. Dudley chuckles. “You do look pretty funny on the table, dear. Let me help you down.” He reaches for her.

She pushes his hands away and glares at him. “I know what I saw. I will not move from this spot until you dispose of them.”

Mr. Dudley looks at me. “You have any traps?”

“I’ll get them.” I try not to smile. How do you trap invisible mice?

Mr. Dudley is holding Weasel’s hand when I return from the pantry. She’s still on the table.

“Where do you want me to set them? As long as your cat is wandering around the house, she could get hurt.”

“Nonsense,” screeches the Weasel. “I told Daria to keep her locked in.”

“Well, she just vomited on me and I was in the living room.”

Mr. Dudley looks at me. “I wondered what smelled.”

I reach up toward my hair. Stop before I touch it. Give me horse poop any day.

Weasel sniffs, “Daria is the only one who can touch Gazella. We’ll have to wait until she comes home.”

The telephone rings. I grab it.

“Hello?

“Winifred!”

“Hi, Dad!” It feels good to hear his voice. I move into the living room. “Where are you?”

“Ogden, Utah. Scott’s really been a big help with the driving.”

A pang of regret twists in my heart, but I’m so happy to talk with Dad, I ignore it.

“How is everything?” he asks.

“I miss you.”

“Are you working out the schedule with Mrs. Dudley?”

“No. She planned it herself. I’m doing all the work.”

“Quit teasing, Win. David, Claire and John are there to help.”

“I’m not teasing, Dad. David left for Salem. Claire went shopping with Daria hours ago. At least, John helped with the horses.”

I hear a roll of thunder through the phone.

“I’m sure it will all work out,” says my optimistic father. “They can’t be gone forever. Last minute emergencies are to be expected. I really need to get back on the road. We’re heading into a storm. I’ll call tomorrow. Love you. Bye.”

“I love you, too. Bye, Dad.” I hang up and stare at the phone.

Mr. Dudley carries Mrs. Dudley through the hall. “I didn’t see any mice, dear. You need to lie down.”

“I will not cook in that kitchen until you prove to me that all the mice are dead.”

Good luck, I think, smiling to myself.

Mr. Dudley says, “As soon as Claire and Daria return, we’ll go out to dinner and set the traps.” He carries Weasel into my Dad’s room, their bedroom for now.

I hurry upstairs and shampoo my hair. After I clean the cat litter and vomit off the floor, I trudge into the attic.

The jungle is gone. Instead, the room is filled with wedding stuff. Gowns and veils hang in racks all over the room. Counters are filled with silk flowers, jewelry, ring pillows and cake decorations.

Fairy Godmonster stands in the middle of the room in a wedding gown. She lifts the veil. A tiara of pearls gleams in her orange hair. Her eyes shine. She glides toward me on five-inch spiked heels. I sigh. I’m lucky not to trip on my feet in regular shoes.

“Isn’t it gorgeous!”

My bed is gone again, so I collapse in a fancy chair. “Where did you get this stuff?”

“From the wedding magazines, of course. I had this idea to put the whip into my NTMT chip. When it came out, it started working.”

“Great.” Now maybe I can get some help.

She preens in the mirror.

“Thanks for the mice,” I say.

Her red X-ray eyes gleam mischief. “That woman was hysterical. Thought I’d bust a seam.”

“What kind of mice were they?” I ask.

“Clonetronic electromagnets.”

“Where did they go?”

“Back into energy,” she replies.

“Wow. Our government could use you.”

“No thanks. Fairies are trying to save the world.”

“Weasel won’t even go into the kitchen until I set mouse traps. Mr. Dudley is taking us out to dinner hoping we’ll catch them.”

When Fairy Godmonster laughs, her whole face lights up. I’m even getting used to her tiny fangs.

“Stay home. We’ll let my whip do the magic and get this place cleaned up.”

Finally. I breathe a sigh of relief.

A car door slams, twice. Screams pierce the air. What now?

I look out the window. Daria kicks and shrieks while Claire drags her toward the house.