A Snicker of Magic by Lloyd Natalie

Author:Lloyd, Natalie [Lloyd, Natalie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2014-02-25T05:00:00+00:00

Foolish heart who fought and failed,

Where talent bloomed, your greed prevailed,

Cursed to toil, till labor-worn,

You’ll spin up ashes, you’ll harvest thorns.

Now pack your dreams, make haste, take flight,

You’re cursed to wander through the night,

Till cords align, and all’s made right.

Where sweet amends are made and spoken,

Shadows dance, the curse is broken.

“It means we …” Cleo’s voice trailed off. She cleared her throat and said, “It means he was cursed to wander and never rest. Cursed to fail at everything he put his hand to. But that’s only if you believe the stories, which I most certainly do not. And I don’t want to talk about them again after this.”

“Me, neither,” Boone said. But he stared down at his banjo like it had betrayed him.

I traced my finger back and forth across the smooth face of the locket. I did want to talk about the curse. I had too many questions buzzing inside my brain now, such as, if the curse was real, had it traveled my family’s history all the way to us? Did that mean us Pickles would always be wandering from town to town? That Boone would never catch a break? That Cleo would always have so much sad caught in her eyes?

And what about me and Frannie Jo? Would we fail at everything we tried?

What was the point of even trying to do the Duel if I was cursed to fail? What difference would it make for Mama to see me happy if she was cursed to keep on traveling?

I had too many questions fighting for the front seat on my tongue. Right at that moment, I didn’t care about getting any answers. There was only one thing I wanted.

“I sure wish Mama was here.” I gulped. Cleo kept the window shut that night because of the storm, so I couldn’t smell the waffle cones baking. That smell always made me feel like Mama was safe, even if I couldn’t see her. On my way home from the Gallery, the air hadn’t smelled like anything at all. Instead, the wind felt too warm and too prickly. Electric, almost.

“I sure do, too,” said Cleo. “I wish she’d stay here is what I wish.”

As if we’d willed it to be, the front door burst open and Mama pushed her way inside. I squealed in relief just as the thunder SMACKED, so loud and clear you’d think somebody’d dropped the world and broke it in two.

“Tornado warning!” Mama said, locking the door behind her. As if that little bitty door lock could keep out a whole big tornado. “They let us leave work early. The radio says we need to get to a safe place.”

We all looked at Cleo then. She was the only safe place any of us really knew.

“We probably ought to get in the bathroom,” Cleo said, heaving as she got up off the floor.

Frannie Jo hopped up into Mama’s arms. Then all three of us Pickles plus two Harnesses were picking up all our worldly possessions — which wasn’t much — and running for the bathroom.

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