I've decided, after some deep contemplation, to add Timmy to the character list for this story. By this point, he's gaining importance to the plotline and I figure that it would only be right to add him.
While I didn't have much feedback on the last chapter, I blame the site for that rather than the readers. There was a lot of difficulties with logging in or reviewing this month. But I expect some real feedback now that the difficulties are over. So I hope you enjoy the story and hope to hear what you think. Thanks.
Canada was truly suffering. Norm had changed their English and French signs so they were now written in Latin and Chinese. He'd considered using Atlantean, but he decided to have a little pity on them. Besides, between the plague of hockey-stick-seeking termites and the fact that all the Mounties' uniforms had inexplicably become plaid, they had enough problems without tossing in a dead language.
After some careful contemplation, the genie had decided that he would have to cut back on some of his kid-watching while Amanda was in public. While there had never been a problem when he observed the girl at a distance at her old school whenever he wanted, there was a greater danger of being noticed now that she was hanging around Turner. It would be safer to occupy himself with other activities while she was in close proximity of the bucked-tooth loser. Of course, Norm hadn't realized how much time he was now spending around her until he was forced consider cutting back.
So, he was torturing his least favorite country in new and unusual ways. He consider visiting a rather attractive red-haired genie he knew that was in Brazil in the middle of the second wish last time he checked, but he felt more like spreading some localized mayhem instead. Norm had experienced one complication after another in regards to his revenge. It was frustrating and he wanted to share his frustration with the population of Canada.
"Maybe a volcano," he muttered to himself. "I could add a large volcano right there, spewing lava all over the countryside. And I could toss Turner in it." After enjoying the nice mental image of the boy being thrown into the depths like a human sacrifice to appease the volcano gods, the genie shook his head, "No, the Canadians probably wouldn't mind the thing. They might even decide to put a volcano on their flag instead of the stupid leaf. And Amanda wouldn't appreciate me incinerating her friend."
Feeling frustrated again, Norm snapped his fingers. As a result, there was a soft gong and a herd of moose began to stampede towards the closest city.
Sitting near the back of the classroom, Amanda's eyes were locked on the clock. During the school day, she was unable to interact with the other classes very much. And since Timmy, his friends, and his other back-up friends were two grades ahead of her, the girl wouldn't be able to spend any amount of time with them until the end of the day. She still didn't quite know what she should expect from them since she'd never had friends before, but she was excited to see what happened.
As soon as the bell rang, the girl sprinted towards the door. Part of her was afraid that she'd imagined Timmy's offer of friendship and any moment she might wake up to her normal life again. She needed to see the pink-hatted boy and assure herself that he was real.
She managed to make it to the fifth graders' classroom before everyone escaped. Unfortunately, in her haste to get through the wave of fleeing children, she ended up being knocked around and eventually crashed into someone taller than her. Someone much taller than her.
Craning her neck, Amanda looked more closely at the individual she ended up running into. The man wore a simple outfit of black pants, white shirt, and a black tie. He glanced down at her through his round glasses, the black-haired individual clearly unhappy with her presence. Considering his presence at this particular classroom and the fact he had a visible hunch on his back, she recognized the man as the fifth grade teacher, Mr. Crocker.
"Sorry," she mumbled quickly. "I didn't mean to bump into you, sir."
"If you were in my class, I'd give your ability to look where you're going an F," he responded swiftly, shouting at the end of his sentence.
Cringing slightly, the girl took a small step back and replied softly, "I know. I'm really sorry."
"Fear," the man commented. "I like that in a student. That's a good mindset for you to have, especially after I take over the world."
And thus further proving the various accounts that referred to him as crazy, the teacher leaned close and stared at her in a scrutinizing manner. He even tapped his chin thoughtfully as he looked her over.
"I don't know you," stated Mr. Crocker.
"Amanda," called Timmy, finally getting over to her. Turning towards his teacher, he explained, "She's new. She just moved here."
"I see," he muttered. Then, he shouted accusingly, "So how do you know her?"
Sanjay inserted helpfully, "She is Timmy's new back-up friend who is both on a trial basis and in a completely different category because she is a girl. That way, she is in no way a threat to my friendship with Timmy."
"So, Turner decided to bring a female below his age group into his collection of companions. Tell me, child, have you seen anything… unusual around him?" the teacher asked.
"What do you mean?" she asked, noticing that the man's remaining students were cringing in anticipation and already had their hands ready to cover their ears.
"I mean, have you witnessed any unbelievable events or curious strokes of luck around Turner that could be the work of…," he explained before flailing wildly, "Fairy Godparents?"
The girl was probably the only one who reacted with shock to the strange freak out. While the man jerked his limbs around randomly and screamed the two word phrase at the top of his lungs, the other students barely flinched. Their earlier reactions and current behavior indicated that the teacher's odd freak out was a fairly regular occurrence.
Still a little stunned by his outburst, Amanda shook her head, "No, nothing weird like that has happened."
"Well, keep an eye on him," Mr. Crocker commanded. "If you can bring me proof of his Fairies," he shrieked again with a crazed look in his eye, "I might be able to find a place for you in my new world order."
At the back of the cluster of Timmy's friends, AJ pulled out a cuckoo clock from his desk. The clock produced the standard sound, giving the impression that someone was calling Mr. Crocker "cuckoo." The noise made the teacher glance around, searching for the culprit, but the bald boy had already hid the evidence before the man could spot him.
"Okay, I think she got it," commented Chester, sliding between the girl and the teacher. "Proof of fairies. New world order. But we really need to go or we'll miss the bus. And if we miss our ride home, you'll be stuck with us indefinitely."
"And you really don't want that," Timmy pointed out.
The teacher agreed, "You're right. I can barely stand you when I'm being paid to. After class, I don't have to be here. Of course, my other option is to go home to my mother and that prospect is not much more appealing. But its Bingo night, so maybe she'll leave early." He paused a moment, clearly weighing his options. "Very well. You may leave. Just remember what I said about Turner and his Fairy Godparents," he reminded, screaming and flailing at the last two words again before heading for the exit.
Amanda stared after the man for a few seconds before asking, "Is he always…?"
"Yes," Elmer answered simply.
"It certainly makes class more entertaining," remarked AJ.
"And louder," added Sanjay.
"Guys," Timmy interrupted. "The bus?"
Chester nodded, "Right."
The group of kids broke into a run. If they were lucky, they would get there in time. If they weren't as lucky, they would be walking home again.
By a miracle, and not a quickly muttered wish for the bus to be delayed, all of them managed to make it. Unfortunately, they didn't find seats close enough to allow Timmy to stare at Trixie, but you can't have everything. Spread across several nearby seats, their group was discussing plans for the afternoon. He originally didn't intend to do anything major with his friends today, but he wanted to distract Amanda away from thinking about everything Mr. Crocker said earlier. She was new and she might not instantly dismiss the man's words as someone who knew him better. It would be better to invite her along to hang out rather than let her ponder on the idea of fairies.
"So, who wants to head to my house to play Timmyball?" he suggested.
"Oh, that would be most excellent," exclaimed Sanjay.
"How do you play?" Amanda asked curiously.
"There are only two rules," AJ explained. "First, Timmy wins."
"The second one is that there are no rules," continued Chester.
Elmer frowned, "I can't come. My mom signed me up for tuba lessons."
The other bespectacled boy also frowned, "That is right. I cannot come either. My parents insist that I come straight home after school since the incident in the park where Francis pulled my undergarments over my head. My mother says she cannot continue to replace them when the elastic is stretched out."
"So, it'll just be me, Chester, AJ, and Amanda," concluded Timmy. "That could still be fun. Maybe."
"Do girls even like Timmyball?" Chester asked.
The pink-hatted boy shrugged, "Don't know. We've never had one play before."
"As long as she doesn't slow things down too much, I'm willing to give her a chance," AJ stated.
"Great, sounds like a plan to me," the blond child commented.
This was the perfect day. Amanda had already decided that. Not only did she have at least one friend for certain, but now he'd invited her to his house to play. He wanted her to join him and his friends for a game. She didn't really know what type of game Timmyball would be or if she would like it, but she didn't care. Nothing could ruin her mood.
As they stepped off the bus with the trio of boys, she looked at the house. It was a nice building with white walls, a chimney, and black shingles on the roof. But the biggest difference between this location and her home was the feeling that surrounded the structure. Her house felt cold, detached, and proper. Timmy's home felt warm, welcoming, and comforting. She liked this place.
"Okay, we go in, grab the ball, and head for the backyard," summarized the pink-hatted boy. He paused a moment before glancing at her, "Do you need to call your parents and let them know where you are?"
Amanda, rather surprised at the idea of her parents noticing her absence even if they were home or they would care, answered simply, "No."
Satisfied by the girl's response, Timmy opened the door. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of a living room filled with more relaxed and colorful furniture than what would be found at her house. Amanda was quickly distracted away, however, by the two adults who were waiting inside.
"Hello, Timmy," the brunette woman greeted. "Did you have a nice day at school?"
"Yes, Mom," he answered quickly.
The black-haired man commented, "Oh, you brought your friends home with you. Plan on having a fun afternoon together?"
"Yes, Dad," the brunette boy confirmed, a slight note of suspicion in his voice as the group stepped inside. "We were planning to play Timmyball."
It was amazing. This was completely different than how her parents interacted with her. They didn't talk to her. They didn't ask her about her day or what she intended to do that day. Timmy's parents cared about him. They were interested in him. No wonder the boy thought her family would want to know where she was. His mother and father might actually worry if he disappeared.
"That's great because we're going to have a fun afternoon too," the man explained, indicating his wife. "And you get to enjoy yourself with your favorite babysitter while we're gone."
At that rather innocent-sounding statement, Timmy's eyes widened in horror and Chester and AJ sprinted away from the house with a quickly yelled "good-bye." Amanda couldn't quite understand why they would react this way. The boy's parents obviously loved him enough to spend their hard-earned money to ensure he was taken care of even while they weren't home. His family was wonderful and obviously wanted their son. No wonder he was such a generous person who would offer to be his friend; his life was so perfect that he couldn't help being so terrific too.
But she still didn't understand why Timmy now looked nervous and the other two boys had fled the scene. What was so wrong about babysitters?
"Hm," the mother remarked slowly. "I guess they had to go home."
The man shrugged, "I'm sure they just had some homework to take care of."
"Yeah, that's it. Homework," commented Timmy dryly.
"Well, I'm certain that you and…," the woman began, pausing as she looked at the girl in confusion.
"Amanda," the boy identified.
His mother continued, "I'm certain both of you will have a wonderful time with Vicky."
As the woman spoke, she opened the front door to reveal a tall, red-haired teen with a pack on her back. The evil gleam in her eyes and the malicious grin on her face was mildly concerning, but more disturbing was the abrupt appearance of storm clouds across the previously-clear sky. The flash of light and crash of thunder punctuated the older girl's name rather ominously.
"Anybody else notice the lightning?" Amanda asked quietly.
"Yeah, that kind of happens a lot with her," muttered Timmy dryly.
The teenager greeted with an obviously-fake sweet voice, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Turner. My, don't you look nice today. I can't wait to take care of your precious child." She patted the pink-hatted boy's head, though she seemed to be using far too much force if Timmy's expression was any indication. As the red-haired girl caught sight of Amanda, she asked, "And who might this be? If I'm watching two little angels today, I'm charging triple my usual rate."
"Run while you still can," hissed the brunette boy urgently.
Before Amanda could argue that she didn't want them to spend their hard-earned money on someone like her, the black-haired man stated, "She's not our child, but I can't say no to such a great bargain. You've got a deal."
"Have fun," Timmy's mother called as the adults headed for the door.
As soon as the parents vanished from sight, the sweet façade fell away. The teen's malicious grin intensified and the brunette boy was already backing away slowly.
"All right, the twerp already knows the rules, but you're new here," she growled. "This is how it works. You do whatever I say, you don't argue with me, and you don't bother me if I'm watching television. And you don't complain to your parents." She reached into her pack, "If you break those rules or I get bored, we get to have some 'special' fun." She yanked out a chainsaw and a flamethrower. "Got it?"
While surprising and a little concerning, Amanda didn't react too strongly to the display. It might be a tad extreme, but she was used to bullies. If she focused on not catching the teen's attention, Vicky might stop noticing her eventually.
"Twerp, clean the rain gutters and the toilets," the older girl ordered. "Twerpette, I'll start you off with hand-scrubbing the floor in the kitchen and see how that goes. I want to see my reflection when you're done. We'll try raking the leaves next if you get that finished. And if I can't hear my show over your cleaning, Mr. Flamethrower and I will have no choice except to have a very violent 'discussion' with you."
With a final glare at the two children, Vicky planted herself comfortably on the couch and picked up the remote.
Taking care of the rain gutters was probably a relatively dangerous task for an eleven year old boy if he didn't have assistance. Such a chore would normally require climbing a ladder and attempting to drag the collection of rotting leaves and filth out without falling from the height of a second-story house. Timmy, however, had a simpler and safer method to deal with the situation. Instead of risking his neck to follow Vicky's command, he simply waited a reasonable amount of time before quietly wishing for the rain gutter to be clean. The colorful 'birds' perched nearly took care of the rest.
While waiting outside for the estimated time it would take to do the chore manually, the brunette boy could catch glimpses of what was occurring inside through the window. While Vicky apparently didn't want to miss her show by going outside to check on his progress, she seemed to have fewer reservations about using the commercial breaks to swing into the kitchen for a little tormenting. So far, Timmy had seen Vicky 'accidentally' spill her soda on the clean section of the floor, tripped over the garbage can so that the contents tumbled out, and knocked over Amanda's bucket of water so she had to go refill. The teenager seemed frustrated by the girl's lack of reaction to her actions, though. The brunette girl kept her eyes locked on the ground and didn't seem to utter a sound even when Vicky was cackling over the mess.
"Okay, this is really not fair," the bucked-tooth boy muttered. "She's stuck here with Vicky, cleaning my house, and she doesn't make a peep about it. At least Chester and AJ know enough to escape when they have the chance. She wouldn't even run away from Francis and now she's dealing with the evilest babysitter in the universe."
"She should have run when you told her to," Cosmo remarked, ruffling the feathers of his green bird disguise.
"Poof poof poof," added the smaller purple disguised fairy.
Timmy stared at the window, the girl still scrubbing the floor stubbornly, before stating "I think that is long enough. I wish the gutters were clean."
The disguised fairies raised their wands and one poof later, the annoying chore was complete. Unless she did something annoying like dumping in the contents of the trashcans that Amanda had refilled, Vicky should be satisfied.
"One unpleasant job down," he commented. "And one to go."
"And, unfortunately, the next one is inside and Vicky might keep a closer eye on you now," pointed out Wanda.
Knowing his godmother was right, the boy muttered, "I wonder if it would be worth it to give her a fish head again."
"Or you could try turning her into a mouse," suggested Cosmo. "It might be harder for her to use a chainsaw that way."
"Tempting," grinned Timmy, visualizing the possibility. "But that probably wouldn't even stop her. She'd probably try to torture kids or take over the world even as a mouse."
He slid into the kitchen, taking care not to track mud or something across the clean floor, and wandered over to Amanda. Even scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees, she was still wearing her backpack. The boy didn't blame her. Considering Vicky's habit of torching personal objects, it was probably rather smart to keep belongings close just in case.
"Sorry you got stuck here with her," he muttered. "Mom and Dad are just too oblivious to notice she's evil."
Amanda looked up at the pink-hatted boy, "It's all right. I don't mind too much."
Timmy glanced at the table, spotting there colorful flowers that materialized in a vase with a soft poof, and commented, "There are certain things that make me glad she's around, but mostly she's a curse on all mankind. Ever heard the song 'Icky Vicky'?" When the brunette girl shook her head, he explained, "It's a song by Chip Skylark. He wrote it about her. And my parents still don't understand she's evil."
"But they care enough about you to pay for a babysitter, even if they picked a mean one," she pointed out. "They want someone to take care of you, even if they aren't home."
"Yeah, but there are still days that I wis…," he started to remark before he halted in mid-word. The boy took a quick look towards the flora-disguised fairies. Watching how he phrased things could prevent accidental wishes. You could never tell when Cosmo might decide to take something literally. Carefully, he reworded, "There are still days I would have preferred that she never entered my life. Or at least I would like to get rid of her."
"Hey, twerp," growled Vicky, startling the pair. The teenager was looming in the doorway, apparently in the middle of a commercial. "I don't think you're finished yet. Move it. Now."
Knowing that any hesitation would result in the red-head breaking out her chainsaw, he boy ran for the bathroom. That toilet wasn't going to scrub itself. Unless he wished for it to, of course.
There was something really sticky under the table. Amanda didn't know what it was, probably something that was spilled and not cleaned up before it dried, but it was stubbornly refusing to come up regardless of how hard she scrubbed. The girl finally decided that she needed more cleaning products. Soap and water simply wasn't going to work. Unfortunately, she didn't know where the more effective cleaning stuff was kept.
Asking Vicky didn't seem like a good idea. Not only did the teenager seem to have a volatile personality, but she was also busy with her own concerns and didn't want to be disturbed. The child's normal reluctance to bother people kept her from going near the living room couch. But Timmy was her friend and this was his house, so he made the logical choice to ask about where the cleaning products were stored.
As she drew near the bathroom, however, Amanda could hear voices. One was obviously the pink-hatted boy's, but she didn't recognize the others.
"I still like my mouse idea," an unfamiliar male voice stated. "And you could wish up a lot of cheese for her. And for me."
"We're not turning Vicky into a rodent," a female scolded.
Timmy commented, "She's already enough of a pest without making it literal."
"Can I have some cheese anyway?" requested the strange male.
"Later," the female and Timmy answered in unison.
The brunette girl stood outside the room, not quite willing to make her presence known. As far as she knew, there was only her, Vicky, and Timmy in the household. Supposedly. But the boy was apparently talking to at least two other individuals.
"But if she tries to mess up the floor again, I might have to wish up that knock-out gas cell-phone," the boy muttered.
"Poof poof?" another voice, this one very young-sounding, asked in rather unintelligible words.
Timmy explained, "There's no reason why Amanda should be suffering from Vicky. She's only here because I invited her over. Knocking Vicky out would make things easier on everyone."
"Is it later now?" the male voice asked pleadingly.
"Fine," the boy sighed. "I wish Cosmo had some cheese."
From her location, she couldn't see what happened in the bathroom. She could hear a sound, however, that followed Timmy's words. There was a poof and an excited cheer of triumph from the individual who requested the cheese.
Deciding that she should probably announce her presence, Amanda took a step towards the bathroom door and called, "Timmy."
By the time she could see inside, the other voices had stopped and the pink-hatted boy was scrubbing the toilet with a single-minded attitude that she doubted he'd been employing previously. A quick look around didn't immediately reveal anything important or out of place. But sitting on the counter was a wheel of cheese that obviously didn't belong. Resting next to the food was a pink toothbrush, a tube of green toothpaste, and a purple container of floss. Her mind abruptly recalled the prevalence of those three colors around Timmy, both for his belongings and from apparently random sources. This trend quickly connected to some of Mr. Crocker's statements and Norm's description of certain wish-granting, shape-shifting magical creatures. If she was right, it would certainly explain where that flock of angry birds that attacked Francis came from.
"Do you need something?" the brunette boy asked uneasily, his eyes glancing towards the colorful items briefly.
"Could you tell me where the cleaning products are?" requested Amanda, giving no indication about her suspicions.
Relaxing slightly, he nodded, "Sure. No problem."
That should make things more interesting. Plus, I got to introduce two of Timmy's greatest enemies who don't have a magical origin: Crocker and Vicky. I love feedback. Please let me know what you think so far. Thanks.
