The Last Secret You'll Ever Keep by Laurie Stolarz (summer reads txt) 📕

ailing doesn’t mean his mind had been ailing too. You see, he too had visited the well, days before, unbeknownst to his wife. Despite pain, muscle weakness, and a very high fever, he made the trek to the woods to search for the well, following directions he’d found in his wife’s recipe book. When at long last he found the magical well, he tossed in his coins and made his wish.”

“What was his wish?” Clara asked.

“Eternal life.”

Clara frowned. “But he died soon after. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Fear not.” William smiled. “The ailing man indeed got his wish. He died and was reborn into the charming gent you see before your eyes.”

“You?” Clara gasped.

“That’s right. Shortly after I was laid in my casket, I awoke to find I’d shrunken in size. No one else was around, but a contract lay at my feet, explaining that because my wish had counteracted my wife’s, I’d be given eternal life, but it would come with a price.”

“What kind of price?”

“I was to become the minder of the wondrous Wishy Water Well, which to me was far more of a privilege than a price.”

“Wow,” Clara said. “That’s quite an honor. And what do you do as a minder?”

“I collect the wishful coins and manage the overall operations of the well.”

“That sounds so mystical.”

“As I said, it’s a privilege. Now, what do you say we take a hike out to find this wondrous well. I heartily think we’ve jibber-jabbered here enough. Wouldn’t you like to have your wish, what you so desire?”

“Oh, I really, really would.”

“Well, then, shall we?” William extended his tiny hand to Clara to help her off the log, then led her farther into the enchanting wood to find the wondrous water well.

Along the way, they passed through a grove of flowering cherry blossoms, as well as an alcove of blooming crab apple trees.

“It’s deliciously beautiful here,” Clara said.

“Indeed, it is,” William agreed, “one of the most enchanting places on Earth.”

They continued their trek, following a winding creek and circling a frog pond. They also picked bunches of lilacs, tasted the sweetest of wild raspberries, and danced over water-tumbled stepping-stones. Eventually, they came to a cluster of berry bushes.

William turned to face Clara; a wide grin crossed his scrunched-up face. “Here it is, oh, girl-whose-name-means-light. Welcome to the wondrous Wishy Water Well.”

Clara looked all around—behind the tiny man, toward the bushes, and beneath the shrubs—unable to see any hint of a water well. “But where is it?” Her face scrunched up too.

“Come,” William said, leading her a little farther. He parted the bushes, exposing the redbrick walls of the well.

Clara came closer and ran her fingers over the tracks of cement—slowly, carefully—as though touching a sacred altar.

“Have you never seen a water well?” William asked curiously.

“I have,” Clara said. “But this one is magical.”

“Indeed, it is,” he chirped. “Now, are you ready to make your wish?”

Clara reached deep into her pocket and pulled out three shiny silver coins. “And nothing bad will happen once I make my wish, right?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, are there any negative consequences?”

William scratched his head, considering the question a moment. “There are indeed consequences to any thought or action, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Clara said. “But what does that mean as far as wishes and wells?”

William grinned. “You’re a very smart girl—too smart, in fact, for that Fox Run School. There is most certainly a consequence, but it’s a small price, if you ask me, for achieving what you so desire.”

“And what is that price?” Clara asked.

“For every wish the well grants, you shall lose one day of your life.”

“Oh my,” Clara said, clasping over her mouth.

“But think of it this way,” William said. “How long do you plan to live? Seventy years? Eighty? Maybe even over a hundred. Subtract one day from whatever that number is—one less day to have your most desired wish granted.”

“You do have a point.” Clara peeked inside the well, surprised to find that it didn’t look magical at all. It was just a long, dark tunnel that burrowed down at least twenty feet. “But there are no coins down there,” Clara said.

“Because I’ve collected them all. That’s my job, remember?”

“Oh yes, that’s right.” She smiled.

“So, do we have a deal?”

“We do.” She clasped her hands together in joyful anticipation.

“Very well, then,” William said. “Whenever you’re ready, just close your eyes, make your wish, and toss the coins into the well.”

Clara clenched the coins in her palm. “Shall I say my wish out loud?”

“Don’t you know the rule of wishing wells?” William teased. “You’re not allowed to tell anyone your wish, lest you risk it not coming true.”

“Very well, then.” Clara closed her eyes and said her wish inside her head. I want to get invited to Sarabeth’s twelfth birthday party, she thought. After that, Clara tossed her coins into the Wishy Water Well.

The following day at the Fox Run School, Clara found a bright red envelope sitting on her desk. With it was a sparkling gold headband, just like the kind that Sarabeth and the other girls wore.

“How pretty,” Clara said, peering out the window, where the group of girls was playing a game of hopscotch. Clara tore the envelope open, elated to have received an invitation to Sarabeth’s birthday party at long last. “I can hardly believe it!” she exclaimed, beyond grateful for William’s help.

That Saturday afternoon, Clara enjoyed herself at Sarabeth’s party. The group of girls played lots of games, including Memory Match, hide-and-seek, and Pin the Tail on the Garden Gnome. They drank pink lemonade from curly straws, ate barbecued spareribs with sweet and sour sauce, followed by chocolate cake with fresh strawberries and vanilla ice cream. Sarabeth made a wish and blew out her candles, and the girls watched in awe as the smoke tendrils spun into pinwheels and floated up toward the clouds.

“Thank you so much for inviting me,” Clara told Sarabeth when it was time to go home.

“You’re most welcome. I’m dreadfully sorry your