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Return to Scribblers and Ink Spillers Home Page by Jude Tulli Remember me? Of course you don't. It's all right, I've learned what to expect in this business, and being remembered just isn't part of the glamorous life a wish fairy leads in the twenty-first century, no matter how striking she may be. But this time will be different. You're wide awake now! Who am I?! Oh, there's no time to go over the basics again. All you need to know is that I forwarded your wish request to my successor and last I heard it was still sitting in the review pile. Tower, to be more precise. I've been reassigned! And let me tell you, it was long overdue. I'm doing freelance Godmother work now. Balls, charity dinners, proms, birthday parties, speed dating, multi-player online gaming, that kind of thing. Come to think of it, the only ball I've done was on a movie set; they're terribly underrated these days. But overall the new job's been a much-needed change of pace. So far, I've poofed up thirteen Halloween costumes (only four were on Halloween, mind you), sixteen gowns, eighteen tuxedos, eighty-nine blouses (if "mouses" is mice, why isn't "blouses" blice? I suspect the answer wouldn't make any sense even if there was a definitive one), 144 skirts (fifty-five didn't quite match to the beneficiaries' liking; we donated them so they weren't a complete waste), 214 T-shirts, 376 pairs of jeans (162 too tight—don't lie to your Fairy Godmother about your size! Just between us, I think I must secretly work for the thrift shops), 529 pieces of jewelry, and 2,139 shoes. Why an odd number of shoes? Good question, makes it look as if you're following along. You see, it takes twice as much effort to conjure a pair of shoes than it does just one, so until my protégé decides on a color and style, I've found it's best to show one at a time. That way I have energy left over in case they need orthopedic inserts or a lower heel or what have you. Trust me, it's the way to go. Oh yes, they're all glass, but we use the tempered kind now. A touch less comfortable than the crystal of the good old days, but absolves our accident liability, you understand. No, no, no, except for makeup we can't alter a person's face or anything, that falls into wish territory, as I'm sure you're aware. Or would be, if you remembered anything I ever told you. There's only so much a Godmother can do. See, the wish fairies have much more time. And their enchantments are designed to last. These new tricks are flashy and quick but they fall apart at the stroke of two in the AM. Used to be midnight but people are staying out later these days, so they added in a little grace period. The T-shirt and jeans specials with fakeola costume jewels last until four in the morning, they're so easy to materialize. What would I want if I had a Fairy Godmother of my own? Oh, dear, I don't even know! They don't ask us that in the thought-wave classroom. You are so considerate to care about my feelings; hardly anyone does these days. No—the sad truth is that no one else does, really. Let's see. . . I suppose I'd want her (or him—we have some marvelous Fairy Godfathers out there) to conjure up a frilly gown like this. Oops, not used to carrying a wand, I've been snagging it in my hair like that since training. You can stop laughing now. What do you mean you're not sorry? That's my line! Hmmph. Guess I at least made an impression on your subconscious. There, that's more like it. What do you think, too fancy in the back? No one dresses up these days unless they're asking for money in some capacity. But I still think it's fun just for its own sake. Awww, you're making me blush. This is nothing; if you think I'm sparkly now, you should see me at twilight! What event is coming up for you? Yes, dear, I've been assigned to you! Didn't I make that clear? Now tell me what you've got on the horizon in that exciting little life of yours so I can help you suck the yarrow out of it. Oh. I must admit that alters my perception of you. Though in which direction I'll never tell. I think that falls within the subset of questions that have no right answers. How formal is this gathering going to be? In other words, if I hadn't shown up were you planning to go looking like that and if so, would they have let you in? I see, I see. All right, step back and watch me conjure like Houdini. What's that? Of course I know Houdini was an escape artist; I'm helping you escape from your dreary day-to-day, aren't I? What should I say, watch me conjure like Merlin? That would be a little pretentious for a brand new Godmother, now wouldn't it? And if I chose someone at my skill level, you wouldn't have heard of them and a perfectly good reference would just go to waste. Now stand still and stop distracting me with trifles, I need to get this right! Let's try. . . Poof! Aloof! No more uncouth! Nothing happened! Oh right, I'm supposed to tap you on the head with my—oops! I know, it's like lead on the star end, isn't it? Hmm. . . still no change unless you count the headache, which we both know wasn't really the desired transformation. How about this one I've heard of but haven't tried yet? Once a bumpkin, now a. . . somethin'. . . What was it again? I can't remember what else rhymes with bumpkin except for— Whoops! I'm sorry, sweetie, I don't mean to laugh it's just that—no, I'm not really sorry. I guarantee you might laugh about it too someday, if only when no one's looking. No, no, no, honest I didn't mean to turn you into a pumpkin, though it does seem to be a pinch of poetic justice for your having stolen my line before. It's copyrighted, you know. Don't worry, I've been able to reverse this sort of thing 65.8% of the time with no harmful aftereffects. Well, all right, confession time: you're my first solo mission. Up 'til now I've had another Fairy Godmother looking over my shoulder as part of the training. And in all the time we worked together, she never once asked what I might want, either. Anyway, you'd be surprised the things that can go wrong and how quickly an experienced Godmother can fix them. She said I'm ready to work alone but honestly I think she just got tired of cleaning up my messes. I don't blame her. Lucky for you, she left me this book! Let's see. . . pudding, puddle, puff adder, pug, pulpit, puma, pumpernickel, ah, pumpkin! Here it is! Oh, dear. It would have been easier had I turned you into a puff adder, I'd just have to yank out your fangs and feed them to a North Sea witch on a crumpet. Or is it feed all but the fangs to a South Sea dragon on a flaming bed of coral? There's so much to learn; I can't keep it all straight! No matter. . . I didn't turn you into a puff adder, did I? Now, just hold still while I cross-reference the troubleshooting section before we take any drastic measures. I'm kidding, I know you're not going anywhere! Oh, fiddle dee dee! I'm afraid I've no choice but to expunge your memory. What I'm about to do to make this right would be a horrible first impression to leave behind, even if it really should be a second one. Will it hurt? Well, that depends on whether you're talking about you or me. Just relax and look into my eyes if you can still see while I— There! Who's your Fairy Godmommy?! Got you to your event on time. All right, we'll call it fashionably late, shall we? And I just love your outfit. Where on earth did you find it? I'm kidding you again. Everyone knows you can't find anything that divine without a magical friend like me. Looks like your special someone's running behind. Which, let's face it, is really just a polite way of saying this doesn't bode well in the "Am I being stood up?" department. Good for you, order yourself some wine anyway. Though do you really need a whole bottle if it's just you? Why here, I'll be your date for tonight. I'll even order the cheapest thing on the menu since I can't really stomach solid food. Did you see that. . . whatever was the big thing on television the other night? Oh, it's no use. You can't see or hear me since I had to block the. . . trauma is such a subjective word, so let's go with faux pas. . . from your mind. I may as well be talking to myself. Or a great wall. Hello? Can you hear me? What am I, chopped fairy dust? Well, how do you do? This must be your guest, just now arriving deep into the ill-mannered spectrum of tardiness. Ooh, I just hate it when people sit in the same chair I'm using as if I'm not even here, don't you? Sigh. I was here early. END Come back next month when she takes a turn as a Sugar-Plum Fairy. Copyright 2009 Jude Tulli This website and all its contents are Copyright 2009 Scribblers and Ink Spillers, LLC. 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