The Marvelous Magic of Miss Mabel (9 page)

“I don't think our flying teacher approves,” Ruby murmured. “She looks furious.”

“Gosh, I think that's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen,” Mabel said. “Can I touch it, Miss Seymour?” she called out.

“Be my guest,” Miss Seymour replied. “I'm still rather wobbly when I ride, but it's great fun.”

“Are you going to come to school on it every day?” Mabel asked, running her hands over the smooth, black, metal frame.

Miss Seymour laughed. “Gosh, no! I only rode here the past few days because poor Bramble has been suffering with an infected paw. He's going around limping and refuses to get on my broomstick. And I can't fly without a cat, of course.”

Mabel ran her fingers over the shiny metal spokes, touching the chain and the pedals, examining how it was made, and imagining a bicycle that could be ridden across the sky.

After a few minutes Ruby cleared her throat. “Mabel, I think Miss Seymour wants to go,” she said.

“Gosh, I'm sorry.” Mabel jumped up. “It's just so magnificent.”

“Could we move along, please?” Miss Reed called out, sounding annoyed. “There are girls waiting to take off. You're creating a holdup.” She waved her arms in furious circles, directing broomstick traffic around them.

“Time to go,” Miss Seymour said, and climbing onto her bicycle, she pedaled madly toward the school gates, ringing her bell to clear a pathway.

“First day flying home without a chaperone,” Mabel said, patting the back of her broomstick. “Come on, Lightning.”
She hoped the name she had chosen for her cat might give him a little more zip. Not that she expected him to prance about like Violet Featherstone's cat did. It would just be nice if he moved at something faster than a lazy waddle. Reluctantly he got up off the ground and flopped down behind Mabel.

“There goes Winifred,” Ruby sighed, as Winifred wobbled past them, her cat perched gracefully behind her. She didn't look down, but Mabel could see the expression of smug satisfaction on her face. “I just can't seem to get my balance,” Ruby said, rising a few feet off the ground. “It's sitting sideways like this. I keep thinking I'm going to slip off again.” She brushed a sleeve over her eyes, and Mabel realized she was crying.

“Do you want me to fly home with you?” Mabel suggested, knowing this might make her late, but hating to see her friend so upset. “I don't have to,” she added quickly, not wanting to make Ruby uncomfortable. The girls had been friends for four years now, and although Ruby had been over to Mabel's house for tea a few times, she had never invited Mabel back. Not that Mabel minded, because Ruby didn't invite anyone over, saying her house was too small and crowded.

Ruby hesitated a moment and then nodded. “I won't be so frightened of falling if I know you're beside me.”

“We can't fly more than six feet off the ground for the first week anyway,” Mabel reminded her. “So if you do fall, it won't be far.”

With a great deal of shakiness, Ruby and Mabel turned left down Glover Lane, Mabel's broomstick dipping at the back because of Lightning's extra weight. “It's hard to fly level,” Mabel panted. “And my feet keep slipping out of these skirt loops.”

“I know. Mine too. You should have worn your trousers, Mabel.”

“Can you imagine Miss Brewer's face if I did!”

“Hey, look out,” a gentleman shouted, as Mabel zigzagged overhead, knocking off his top hat with her shoe. “You beginners are a hazard to pedestrians.”

“Sorry, sir,” Mabel called back. This was so different from the floating she had done as a child. There was nothing airy or free-form about it. You had to concentrate, and Mabel guessed that their backs would be stiff and achy in the morning from holding themselves so straight.

“Thanks for flying with me,” Ruby panted, heading up toward Canal Street. The road veered off down a grassy track, and Ruby hovered a second, as if she were making up her mind about something. “Would you like to come in for tea?” she finally said. “It's not a big house, and it doesn't have fancy things in it like yours, and I've
got lots of sisters, and it can get noisy and—”

“I'd love to,” Mabel interrupted, beaming at her friend. “I'd just love to.” Nanny Grimshaw would be cross, but it was worth getting punished for, Mabel decided. If she missed this opportunity, Ruby might not ask her again. And with a sense of recklessness, Mabel followed Ruby down the track that led toward the canal. Two horses clopped along the bank, pulling a barge slowly behind. The barge blew its horn at them, and Ruby gave an embarrassed smile.

“That's my pa,” she said, lifting one hand quickly off her broomstick to wave at a man on the boat deck wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a cloth cap. “He's taking a shipment of stone down to London.”

“Hello, Mr. Tanner,” Mabel called out. “Nice to meet you.” Ruby's dad put his fingers in his mouth and whistled at the girls, a loud, sharp whistle that Mabel found most impressive. She decided that if she got to know Mr. Tanner a little better, she would ask him to show her how it was done.

“Here we are,” Ruby huffed, landing in front of a tiny cottage that sat beside the canal. It was set back from the water a little ways, with a stone wall surrounding the property. “It's not very fancy,” Ruby apologized,
as a woman came out of the cottage. She had a white cotton scarf tied around her head and four little girls hanging from her skirts. They all had the same fine, butter-colored hair and pale blue eyes as Ruby. As soon as the children saw Ruby's cat, they pounced on him with squeals of delight and carried him inside the cottage.

“And who is this?” the woman said, pressing a hand against the small of her back and giving Mabel a tired smile.

“This is Mabel, Ma. She flew home with me because I was a bit scared to try it by myself.” Ruby fiddled with her shirt collar “I asked her to stay for tea.”

“Pleased to meet you, mam,” Mabel said with a curtsy.

“Well then, you'd better come in,” Mrs. Tanner said, and before Mabel could finish replying, Ruby's mother had hustled her inside the cottage and Mabel found herself sitting at a table, crowded with all Ruby's sisters, eating a piece of caraway cake.

Seeing Mabel trying to count heads, Ruby said, “There's eight of us in all. Not counting Ma and Pa of course.”

“All girls,” Mrs. Tanner sighed, looking around the table. “But I wouldn't trade a one of them.”

“Where does everyone sleep?” Mabel asked,
realizing right away that this was a rude question and none of her business.

“Ma and Pa have one room with the two little ones,” Ruby said. “And the rest of us share the other. Three to a bed.” Mabel tried not to show her surprise.

“Yes, and Ruby is the worst kicker,” one of the oldest girls remarked. “She's always knocking me onto the floor.”

“Ruby's the worst kicker and Ruby's the only witch,” a little girl cried out, banging her tin mug on the table. “Ruby's a witch, Ruby's a witch,” she chanted.

“That's enough, Camellia.” Mrs. Tanner put a finger against her lips.

“Camellia! What a beautiful name,” Mabel burst out. “I love flower names. I wish I'd been called Magnolia,” she added wistfully.

“Oh, I think Mabel suits you,” Mrs. Tanner said, which was not what Mabel wanted to hear. “Anyway, it took us quite off guard when we found out our Ruby had the gift. I still haven't recovered from the shock,” she remarked, unable to hide her pride. “None of us have. The only witch we know of in the family is Ruby's great-aunt Ethel. She was a tea leaf reader in a carnival.”

“This was her ring,” Ruby said shyly, showing Mabel a thin silver band that she wore on her thumb.
It had a green stone in the center carved into the shape of a sickle moon. “I never take it off,” Ruby added. “It makes me feel connected to her.”

“Ruby's learning magic like Great-Aunt Ethel did,” another little girl said. “She can do spells. Can you do spells?”

“A few,” Mabel replied, feeling a little overwhelmed by the small space and all these sisters. “This is a delicious cake,” she said, finishing the last crumb on her plate.

“Ma's a wonderful baker,” Ruby pronounced. “You'll have to come back and try her plum tarts.”

“Not that I can promise this lot will leave you any,” Mrs. Tanner said affectionately. She rubbed at her swollen knuckles. “So are you familiar with any of the witches in your family, Mabel? What they did? Where they lived?”

“I—I'm not sure,” Mabel said, realizing she knew nothing about her magical past. It would be nice to have a ring like Ruby's though. Something from one of her witch ancestors that she could wear and show the girls at school.

“I hope you didn't mind my mother asking all those questions,” Ruby said, walking Mabel outside after tea. “She's just excited to meet another witch, that's all. It's
such a novelty in our family, you see.”

“I think it's a bit of a novelty in my family too,” Mabel admitted. There were no books on the subject in their house. No portraits or photographs of famous witch relatives hanging on display, or magical mementos passed down through the generations. And for the first time in her life, Mabel realized just how odd this was.

M
ABEL'S CAT HAD FALLEN ASLEEP
in Mrs. Tanner's chicken coop, snuggled up in one of the nesting boxes. It was Ruby who found him. She hauled him out by his tail. “Come on, you lazybones. This is not your house.” Lightning waddled toward Mabel's broomstick and heaved himself on board. He yawned and licked his whiskers, as if he'd just done an extremely hard day's work. Stroking his back, Mabel could feel him purring beneath her hand.

“See you at school tomorrow,” Ruby said, waving to Mabel. “And thank you for flying me home.” She paused a moment, then burst out, “I'm sorry you got
suspended, Mabel, I really am. It's a stupid rule of Miss Brewer's, not letting you experiment.”

“Ruby!” Mabel laughed. “You said ‘stupid.' I've never heard you say that word before.”

“Well, it is stupid,” Ruby said stubbornly. “You have the best ideas, Mabel. Miss Seymour thinks so too. You could tell she liked your trousers.”

“Thanks.” Mabel wiggled her feet into her skirt loops. She was beginning to feel extremely nervous about facing Nanny Grimshaw. What had she been thinking? Going to another girl's house without permission, especially since that girl was Ruby. Mabel could tell Nanny Grimshaw disapproved of the Tanners by the way her mouth tightened whenever Mabel mentioned them. The only girl she might not have minded Mabel spontaneously having tea with was Winifred. According to Nanny Grimshaw, a lord's daughter would be a much more fitting companion than a canal worker's. Not that Mabel regretted having tea at Ruby's. But the thought of Nanny with her pinched face, tapping her umbrella on the floor when she found out, was enough to make Mabel groan out loud. She'd never be allowed to fly without a chaperone again.

“Are you all right, Mabel?” Ruby asked in concern. “You look rather ill.”

“I just need to get home,” Mabel said. Pointing her broomstick skyward, she called out, “Avante,” and flew shakily into the air.

Her palms were damp, and Mabel kept tipping back and forth, trying to find her balance. Lightning started meowing, and Mabel got more and more anxious as she flew. Nanny Grimshaw would send her to bed with no supper. She'd never let her see Ruby again. Mabel was wobbling up Trotting Hill, flying about four feet off the ground, when the Trimbles' dog, Jeeves, shot out of their gate and came bounding toward her. Mabel squealed and slid backward, landing in a heap on the road.

“I'm so sorry,” Mrs. Trimble cried out, racing after Jeeves, who was licking Mabel all over her face. “Are you hurt?”

“I don't think so.” Mabel pushed Jeeves away and straightened her glasses. She got up gingerly, brushing her skirt. Lightning was standing with his fur all ruffled, hissing at Jeeves.