Fortune's Magic Farm by Suzanne Selfors (rainbow fish read aloud .txt) 📕

little jig. The bridge shook as he kicked up his feet. “It’s a sign. A verifiable, delightful, wonderful sign.”

Isabelle stared at her hair, once thin and lifeless, now thick and green.

Walnut twirled, almost falling off the bridge in the process. Then he gave Isabelle a mighty hug. “If this doesn’t cheer your grandfather up, I don’t know what will.”

Her belly bulging, her skin shining, and her hair glowing, Isabelle followed her great-uncle to the thatched roof cottage. Just as he reached for the knob, the door burst open and Sage hurried out. “Got to do my rounds,” Sage said, throwing some rope over his shoulder. Then he did a double take. “Isabelle? Is that you?”

“Yep.” As proud as she felt of her new colors, she held back her smile, wondering what Sage’s reaction would be. Would he make fun of her? Green hair is a bit unusual, after all.

He shuffled in place for what seemed a very long time before saying, “You don’t look half bad. See ya in a few days.” He hurried off.

“Be careful,” Walnut called.

“Where’s he going?” Isabelle asked. A few days was the length of time she had known Sage, and she realized that she would miss him.

Walnut waved as Rolo the raven flew in Sage’s direction. “Off to do security rounds, to make sure the perimeter is secure. One hole in the dome and Mr. Supreme’s hooligans could find their way in.”

“You have a dome?”

“Not just any dome. An invisible dome. It’s a magical barrier that keeps outsiders from wandering onto the farm.”

“I see,” Isabelle said, but she didn’t, really. Just another amazing fact she’d have to accept, and she expected that the day would provide many more.

Walnut showed Isabelle to a room, tucked away at the end of a crooked hall. It was about the same size as the room on the fourth floor of Mama Lu’s Boarding House, except that streaming sunlight illuminated its far wall, making it seem much bigger. “This will be your room.”

“My room?” Those words sounded so strange. “Just mine?”

“Certainly,” Walnut replied, tapping his dirt-stained fingers together. “It belongs to you.”

Isabelle thought that maybe she had ferns growing in her ears. “An entire room belongs to me?”

“Of course. And everything in it belongs to you, too.” Everything included a small bed covered in a bright quilt made from cotton gardening gloves, a stand of dusty shelves that waited to be filled, a cluster of candles, and a box of matches on a bedside table. Except for the rain slicker and boots she had purchased with her factory wages, nothing had ever belonged to Isabelle. Her clothes were hand-me-downs, on loan until she outgrew them.

The marmot crawled under a pillow. “I guess you’ve got a roommate,” Walnut said.

Suddenly, Isabelle panicked. Could this be too good to be true? “How much is the rent?” Her great-uncle probably didn’t realize that she didn’t have any money. The few pennies she had saved and had hidden beneath her mattress now belonged to Mama Lu.

“Forgive me, my dear.” Walnut poked his finger in his ear. A few bits of dirt tumbled out. “Did you ask about the rent?”

“Yes. How much is it?”

He frowned. “You don’t pay rent. You’re family. However, you will be expected to do your fair share of chores. And there are lots of chores to do around here. Too many, in fact, ever since your grandfather fired all the farmhands. The whole place is falling apart.”

“Well, I’m a real good worker,” Isabelle said proudly. “I can work for eight hours without taking a break.”

“Why would anyone work eight hours without taking a break? Breaks are mandatory around here, as are naps, daydreams, and occasional episodes of goofing off.” He opened the closet. A few pairs of pants and some shirts hung on wooden pegs. “There are some old clothes of Sage’s in here, worn before his last growth spurt. They belong to you now. I’m afraid we don’t have any girl clothes. My brother got rid of all your mother’s belongings after… Well, not to worry about that right now.” Walnut looked away.

Isabelle didn’t need to be a rocket scientist—or any kind of scientist—to deduce the following: that the subject of her mother was a delicate one, perhaps an unpleasant subject. Had something horrible happened to her? And to her father? Though Walnut tried to avoid the answers, Isabelle was determined to know. She needed to know. She’d ask again, when the moment seemed right.

“There’s a bathroom in here, just for you.” Walnut opened a blue door.

Isabelle nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed into the brightly painted bathroom. “Just for me?” No waiting in line behind the Limewigs and Wormbottoms in the cold hallway, wondering if they’d left any paper. No stumbling down two flights of stairs in the dark.

Walnut pointed to a sink shaped like a flower. “There’s a towel over there, and some soap.”

Would the wonders never cease? Not a ball of smooshed-together bits and pieces from Mama Lu’s old soaps, but an entire bar of brand new soap, just for her.

“Why don’t you change out of that kelp suit and clean up. Then you can explore the farm.” Walnut gave Isabelle a big hug. “You have no idea, my dear. No idea how much you are needed. I thought that all was lost but here you are. You’ve made an old man very happy.” His eyes misted. “I’m so glad that Sage found you.” He hugged her again, then closed the bedroom door on his way out.

“I’m glad he found me, too,” Isabelle whispered. Then she spun around, twirling like a seed in the wind. Her very own bedroom, her very own bathroom—rent-free!

Isabelle’s little bathroom contained a shower that worked by pumping a handle. She peeled off the kelp suit and sighed as warm water cascaded over her new skin. The shower’s basin turned gray as the final remnants of Runny Cove washed away. My old self, she thought, as