The Wish Stealers (13 page)

“Did I hear you say, ‘puppy’?” Her mom sat down on her bed. “Why are you talking about a puppy?”

“No reason,” she said.

“No reason? Do you want a puppy because the baby is coming and you feel left out?”

“Mom, I can’t wait to meet the baby! I just had an idea about a puppy for a project. That’s all,” Griffin said while crossing her fingers. Charlemagne crawled on Griffin’s lap. “Plus, I don’t know if Charlemagne would feel too safe with a puppy. A puppy might think Charlemagne’s a football.”

Charlemagne ducked his head inside his shell again. Dr. Penshine rubbed Charlemagne’s belly.

“Have you decided what you and Dad are going to name the baby?” asked Griffin, wanting to change the subject.

“Why don’t we go up to the roof and I’ll tell you.”

Griffin’s mom had installed a mini-observatory on their roof years ago. Three telescopes stood ready during the spring, summer, and fall. The roof looked like any ordinary roof from the front, but on the back her mom had built a platform for stargazing. Dr. Penshine had named her three telescopes Galileo, Sir Isaac, and Copernicus. Griffin’s mom knew all eighty-eight constellations in the sky.

Together they walked to the rooftop. The cool breeze brushed against Griffin’s cheeks. She was relieved they couldn’t see Mr. Schmidt’s house and its creepy shadows from the roof. Thankfully the platform faced only their backyard and the deep night sky beyond it.

“Here, Griff, look through that telescope and tell me what you see.”

Griffin looked through the telescope and saw Polaris, the planet Jupiter, the constellation Sagittarius, and the swirling spiral galaxies M81 and M82.

“I see stars that must be millions of light-years away,” said Griffin.

“In one of those distant and deep parts of space is a hidden and beautiful constellation called Caelum. It can only be seen at the equator or in the southern hemisphere, where your dad and I gazed at it on our honeymoon. We want to name the new baby Caelum if he’s a boy and Caela is she’s a girl.”

“What does Caelum mean?” asked Griffin.

“It’s a constellation named in 1754 by my favorite astronomer, Lacaille. Caelum means ‘the heavens.’ Its second meaning is ‘
les burins
,’ which is an old instrument for engraving on copper.”

“Engraving on copper? Like a penny!” said Griffin.

“A
burin
probably helped engrave the models for the first pennies.”

“Wow!” said Griffin as she drank up the night sky filled with millions of bright stars. I can’t wait to meet Caelum or Caela!” Then she had an idea. “Mom, wait here!”

Griffin ran downstairs and lunged under her bed. She took the label off the “baby” penny so her mom wouldn’t become suspicious. Bounding back up the stairs, Griffin held out the penny to her mother. It glowed wildly under the canopy of stars. “This is a lucky penny I found.”

“Really?” said her mom.

“Yeah,” said Griffin. “Do you want to make a wish about the baby?” she asked.

“Okay,” said her mom, smiling. She put the penny in her left palm, closing her fingers tightly around it. In her right hand she held Griffin’s hand.

A meteor whizzed by overhead.

“A shooting star!” exclaimed Griffin. At that exact moment her mother made a wish and gently placed the penny down on the railing.

The door to the roof swung open. “Hello, everybody. What are you doing up here?” asked Griffin’s dad.

“Hi, Dad! Mom and I just saw a shooting star!” said Griffin.

“You know what Mom says about shooting stars, right?”

“They’re lucky!” said Griffin, feeling better for the first time in a while.

“Griffin gave me a lucky penny to make a wish for the baby,” said her mom to her dad. Then Dr. Penshine scooped the penny off the railing. It was wet, now covered in dew. It sparkled even more like a star that had landed.

“Mom, we need to save this and give it to the baby when she or he is born.”

“Good idea. Where should we keep it?” asked Dr. Penshine.

“I know,” said Griffin, taking the penny from her mom. “Good night!”

“Good night, Griff,” called her parents, smiling.

Griffin raced downstairs, but before turning into her own bedroom, she tiptoed into the guest room that had been converted into a nursery. The penny felt warm in her palm. Very carefully she placed the penny in a keepsake box on a high shelf next to the crib. The “baby” penny glowed.

Starlight, star bright,

first star I see tonight.

I wish I may, I wish I might,

have the wish I wish tonight.

L
ouder!” shouted Garrett over the cacophony of banging drums inside his garage. Griffin forced a smile. Her mom had dropped her off after school and had gone to run an errand. “In thirty minutes I’ll be back to pick you both up,” she’d said.

“Louder, guys!” Garrett yelled again as he pounded on his drums.

Covering her ears was what Griffin really wanted to do. She had a splitting headache from thinking about Mariah’s gifts.
What did Mariah use that creepy yarn for? Why did she have that bloodred ring?
Mariah’s antique black mirror gave Griffin the chills. Did it reflect only the dark side of things?
Did it show the sadness people felt when their stolen wishes never came true? The song ended, but no one finished at the same time.

“Hey, Griffin,” called Jason Scott. “Garrett wants our band to play for science night. We usually charge for our gigs, but because this is Garrett’s science project, we’re going to play for free.”

“Thanks,” said Griffin, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“What do you think, Griffin?” asked Garrett as he stepped out of the open garage onto the driveway, where Griffin stood. Griffin didn’t know what to say.

“Cool.” She gulped. “It’s really nice your mom lets you have the garage to practice in.”

“It’s mostly our hangout. We just practice here when we feel like it,” said Garrett.

“Oh,” said Griffin.

Garrett looked at Griffin funny. “Hey, where’s your bass? Did you bring it?” he asked.

Griffin was so afraid that she wouldn’t be able to play because of the curse that she hadn’t brought her bass guitar. “I totally forgot it, but I have some video of me playing bass this summer. I was in a band at the music conservatory where I take lessons.”

“Cool,” said the guys, passing around Griffin’s phone and watching her play her bass guitar.

“You’re amazing!” said Todd Wherry, who played electric keyboard.

“Cool stuff,” said Ethan Bergwein, the lead singer.

“Thanks,” said Griffin. Inside she shrank.
Maybe I’m not a good player anymore because of the curse
.
I wish to become an amazing bass guitarist
sirened through her head.

“Hey, guys. Let’s break for today,” Garrett called.

Griffin looked at her watch. They had five minutes until her mom picked them up.

“We’ve been jamming hard. Let’s meet the same time next Tuesday. I gotta go work on that stupid science project.”

All the guys started high-fiving one another. Two of the boys besides Garrett went to their school: the lead singer, Ethan, and the guitar player, Jason, who Griffin recognized from classes at Dadesville’s music center. Todd Wherry and Kurt Keene, who were packing their instruments, went to the rival middle school.

“Mom! We’re done!” screamed Garrett to the dark upstairs windows.

Nothing happened.

“She must be asleep.” Garrett shrugged.

Jason’s older brother, whose car was at the end of the
driveway, blasted the horn. “Come on, kiddies, jump in the Batmobile!” he yelled. The four boys lugged their instruments down the driveway.

“Later,” they called.

“Later,” said Garrett, banging some final beats and fills on his drums. “I’m just gonna put some of these speakers away.”

“Okay,” said Griffin, who sat down at a broken piano in the front of the garage.

“Do you think my band is bad?” Garrett said.

“No,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

“Come on, tell me the truth. You think my band stinks, don’t you?” said Garrett.

“No, I think you guys could be amazing—”

“Could be? Like we’re
not
or something?” he said, sounding defensive.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“You sound like Mr. Blackwell,” he said with a sharp tone.

“No, I don’t! He’s a Wish Stealer!” Griffin blurted out.

“A what?” said Garrett, staring at her.

“He just makes fun of people for trying,” said Griffin.

“Whatever,” said Garrett, turning away from her. He beat loudly on his drum.

“What’s going on in here?” asked Garrett’s mom,
sticking her head into the garage. She looked very tired.

“Nothing,” said Garrett.

“Hi. You must be Griffin,” said Garrett’s mom.

“Hi, Mrs. Forester,” Griffin said, standing up from the piano bench to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Were you about to play the piano?” she asked.

“No. I play bass guitar,” she said.

Mrs. Forester had the same dancing, kind blue eyes as Garrett.

“Mom, my band’s going to play a concert for science night.”

“I’ll make sure to get out of work early so that I can be there.”

“But Griffin said my band stinks. I don’t go to the music center like
she
does.”

Griffin’s mouth flew open. “Garrett! I didn’t say that!”

“I would love to send you to the music center, Garrett.” The saddest sigh deflated out of Mrs. Forester. “We just can’t afford it right now. I better let you kids do your work. Nice to meet you, Griffin.” She headed inside.

Just then Dr. Penshine honked the car horn. Griffin swiveled her head toward the car and then back to Garrett.

“I don’t feel like working on our project tonight,” said Garrett angrily.

“I have more stuff to do on my part,” said Griffin, her eyes now moist. “I guess I’ll just work on that.”

“Yeah,” he said, not looking at her.

“Bye, Garrett,” she said.

But Garrett had already bolted inside his house and slammed the door.

People’s dreams are fragile—be gentle.

G
riffin slid into the passenger seat of her mom’s car. “How’d it go?” asked her mom.