The Frights of Fiji by Sunayna Prasad (books to read for self improvement .txt) 📕

imaginary friends again?” asked Uncle Bruce.

“He’s not imaginary,” said Alyssa.

“All right, that’s enough.” Uncle Bruce put the radio on, and the news played.

Alyssa crossed her arms. Uncle Bruce had to know that someone hunted both him and her down and that the storm would do something horrible to him. Simon should send her the note about the incidents as soon as possible. But why couldn’t he do it now?

The news story concluded, and the weather forecast began. Alyssa listened to everything the weatherman could say about the storm, but he only repeated what he’d said last time. Nothing about the sleet’s colors mentioned. Darn. Now until Simon sent the note, Alyssa would have no proof to show that magic existed.

Uncle Bruce’s cell phone rang, and he answered it with his Bluetooth earpiece. “Hello?”

Alyssa tuned out, assuming he spoke to someone she didn’t know or that he would say nothing to her.

“There’s a meeting at the office today?” asked Uncle Bruce.

Okay, this caught Alyssa’s attention. Uncle Bruce worked on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and alternate Saturdays in a lawyer’s office from three to five as well as an online job during the whole week. He homeschooled the girls for the rest of the time except on Sundays and his off-Saturdays. Now that a meeting would occur, he’d either have to say that he couldn’t go or have to find someone to look after Alyssa and Hailey.

“But what about the storm?” asked Uncle Bruce.

Right. Why would a meeting be scheduled when a strange storm was coming?

“It’ll only be a half hour? Can’t you move it?”

Alyssa kept watching and listening, wondering what the answer would be.

“Okay. I’ll be there at six. Bye.” He hung up. “Girls, I have to go to a meeting at work. But since you no longer have a babysitter and I obviously can’t leave you home alone, I have to text a bunch of people to see who’s available to look after you now.”

“But, Dad, you can’t text and drive,” Hailey said.

“No, but I can pull over and text,” Uncle Bruce said.

Uncle Bruce did so. After about a minute, his phone made its texting sound, and he answered it.

“Okay, girls, only one person is available now,” he said. “It’s my friend, Mrs. Wilson.” He pulled back onto the street.

After a short while, Uncle Bruce turned onto Scorpio Lane. Alyssa’s nerves twisted. She wondered what Mrs. Wilson would be like. If Mrs. Hutchinson and Mr. Steinberg both had attitudes she disliked, then Mrs. Wilson might too.

Uncle Bruce parked at the third to last house on the left. Alyssa and Hailey followed him to the door. He rang the doorbell.

A light-brown-skinned woman with puffy shoulder-length hair opened the door, smiling at Bruce. This couldn’t be Mrs. Wilson, even if anybody could have an English name. But—just because she grinned at Uncle Bruce, that didn’t necessarily mean she’d show sympathy to Alyssa and Hailey.

“Hi, Bruce.” She pulled Uncle Bruce into a hug.

“Hello, Janine.” Uncle Bruce let go of her and turned to Hailey and Alyssa. “Girls, this is Mrs. Wilson.”

Alyssa and Hailey introduced themselves.

“I’ll be back in about an hour, Janine,” said Uncle Bruce.

“Okay, Bruce,” said Mrs. Wilson. “Bye.”

Mrs. Wilson took the girls’ coats and shoes and placed them in her closet. She led them into the kitchen. The smell of steak cooking in the oven filled the air.

“That smells good,” said Alyssa.

“You and Hailey are welcome to have some,” said Mrs. Wilson.

“Cool,” Alyssa said.

“We are supposed to lose power anyway,” said Mrs. Wilson. “So you might as well eat dinner here.”

“Thanks.” Alyssa smiled.

“The steak won’t be ready for another twenty to twenty-five minutes, though,” said Mrs. Wilson. “But in the meantime, I can give you something else to eat.”

“What do you have?” Hailey asked.

Mrs. Wilson opened her refrigerator. “I have leftover macaroni and cheese, fruit, yogurt—”

“I’ll have the mac and cheese, please.” Alyssa jumped.

“Okay. Hailey, what do you want?”

“Uh . . . not fruit or—”

“You want me to make you a sandwich?” asked Mrs. Wilson. “I can make you grilled cheese, tuna, bologna, peanut butter and jelly—”

“Alyssa’s allergic to peanuts,” said Hailey. “I don’t want her to get an allergic reaction.”

“Hailey, I’m only a little bit allergic,” Alyssa said.

“Still, I don’t want you near anything you’re allergic to,” said Mrs. Wilson.

In kindergarten, Alyssa’s class had held a peanut-butter-and-jelly-sandwich-making day. Kids and parents had brought in different kinds of the three main ingredients. Because Alyssa’s dad had had a deathly peanut allergy, she hadn’t brought in anything. She’d still tried a sandwich, though. But bumps had formed around her upper lip and chin. Her throat had also narrowed. The teacher had rushed her to the nurse and had called her mom. After Alyssa’s mother had given her medicine, Alyssa had recovered. Her mom had realized the peanuts had caused her reaction because she’d eaten toast and jam before with no problem. An allergy test right after had also confirmed the peanut issue. Since then, Alyssa had never touched peanuts again.

While the macaroni and cheese warmed up, Mrs. Wilson made Hailey’s tuna sandwich. She also served Alyssa some orange juice and Hailey some seltzer. They ate everything given to them.

Mrs. Wilson arched her eyebrows at the opening that led to the kitchen. A little boy no older than seven or eight waved a Blackberry phone in the air. “I’ve got your phone, I’ve got your phone,” he chanted.

“Stop it!” snapped a teenage girl’s voice. The girl grabbed it out of the boy’s hand.

Mrs. Wilson strode toward them. “Leon Roger Wilson and Jasmine Nicole Wilson, knock it off!” She glared at Jasmine. “Jasmine, you’re turning fifteen in August! You’re too old to grab from your little brother’s hand!” She turned to Leon. “Leon, you’re eight years old now, so it’s time you start showing some big-boy behavior!”

Leon groaned. “Fine.”

“Now why don’t you two say hi to my friend, Mr. Flynn’s, daughter and niece?” asked Mrs. Wilson.

Jasmine and Leon introduced themselves to Alyssa and Hailey.

A swish came from the ground. Alyssa found a note and picked it up, but she stayed ducked under the table.

 

Dear Alyssa,

 

Please tell your uncle that the storm will harm him tonight and what I told you about Duchamp if you haven’t done so already. I will send him a note about the incidents in a few minutes.

Don’t worry. He’ll believe you once he sees the note appear.

 

Cheers,

Simon

 

Alyssa put the note into her jeggings pocket and sat up again.

“What were you doing, Alyssa?” asked Hailey.

Alyssa leaned into her ear and whispered the answer.

Hailey gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your dad wouldn’t let me talk.”

A while later, the oven’s timer went off. Alyssa’s mouth watered.

“The steak and potatoes are done.” Mrs. Wilson said. “Jasmine, can you make the salad, please?”

“Yes, Mom.” Jasmine took out a salad bag and balsamic vinaigrette dressing from the refrigerator and put them on the counter. She pulled her long waves into a high ponytail and poured the salad mix into a bowl.

“So how are you guys?” Jasmine asked Hailey and Alyssa.

“Okay,” Alyssa said. “What about you?”

“Excited. This weekend, I’m performing in a horse show and getting my Narnia poster in the mail.”

“Did you also hear about the storm tonight?” asked Alyssa.

Jasmine paused and turned to Alyssa. “There’s a storm tonight?”

“Yeah,” said Alyssa. “It’s even supposed to knock out the power.”

“What?” shrieked Leon, who sat next to Hailey.

“Leon, we have a generator,” Jasmine said.

“Yes, but it only lasts for a little bit,” said Leon.

“Well, Leon, be thankful that it’ll be like having power,” said Mrs. Wilson.

She carried a bowl of roasted potatoes and a plate of steak, while Jasmine carried the salad. Everyone helped him- or herself with each choice and ate.

“So, Jasmine and Leon, you guys had no idea about the storm tonight?” Mrs. Wilson asked.

The two shook their heads.

“It’s supposed to sleet,” said Mrs. Wilson.

“What’s sleet?” asked Leon.

“Rain mixed with ice and snow,” answered Mrs. Wilson.

“But the first day of spring is tomorrow,” Leon said.

“It has snowed in April before,” Jasmine said. “Plus, nothing really blooms here on the first day of spring anyway.”

After dinner, a howl of wind loudened. Everybody turned to the closest window. Alyssa opened her mouth. Round yellow, green, and purple ice glowed and fell from the sky. The sleet hit the nearest window. Everyone ran to the window and stared at the sleet as it piled up on the ground.

“Why are the sleet funny colors?” Leon asked.

“Yeah, something’s not right about this,” said Jasmine.

Alyssa stayed silent. She didn’t want to scare the Wilsons by revealing sorcery’s existence.

“Alyssa, tell them what’s going on,” said Hailey.

“Why?” asked Alyssa.

“Just do it,” Hailey said.

Alyssa sighed and turned to the Wilsons.

“Do you want to tell us something, Alyssa?” asked Mrs. Wilson.

“Um . . .”

“Why isn’t the sleet white?” asked Leon.

“The truth’s going to shock you,” said Alyssa.

“Can you just tell us?” asked Jasmine.

“It’s . . . magic.”

All three gaped at her and stiffened their bodies.

“I thought there was no such thing as magic,” said Leon.

“Well, the weather can’t just change the color of sleet like that.” Mrs. Wilson gazed out the window. “But I don’t understand—why didn’t we know about magic before?”

“I don’t know.” Alyssa shrugged.

Her mind shifted to Uncle Bruce. She felt her stomach harden and hurt. Her heart hammered, and breaths hurried out of her mouth. Anything could happen to him tomorrow morning. He could run away, abandoning her and Hailey. He could also turn evil, and then Alyssa might as well run away herself. Maybe he’d fall into a coma.

Well, whatever happened to him, it would harm her life. Hailey could call her grandparents to look after them.

If the power went out tonight and the roads had a lot of ice, then she and Hailey would likely still have no electricity tomorrow. Speaking of that, it went out.

“Mommy, when’s the generator going to go on?” asked Leon.

“In a few seconds, sweetie,” answered Mrs. Wilson. “It takes a little time before—”

The lights came back on, and there was a buzz.

“Is that the generator?” asked Alyssa.

“Yep,” said Jasmine. “So—would you and Hailey like to go up to my room?”

“Sure,” said Alyssa.

The girls headed up to Jasmine’s room. The pale-blue wall had been covered with various basketball and horseback-riding ribbons and photos. Alyssa also noticed a giant Harry Potter movie