Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl. A Wand for Daria
DISCLAIMER: As I've said before, I do not own the rights to either Daria or Harry Potter. They belong to MTV Viacom (Daria) and JK Rowling, Wizarding World, and Warner Brothers (Harry Potter)
Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl* Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl* Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl
In the middle of March, Señora Gonzalez, one of Highland's informal witchly matriarchs, stopped by Casa Morgendorffer for a visit. Quinn wasn't there; neither was Daria. After saying "hello," Ronnie went back to her room. Señora Gonzalez sat down in a chair in the living room, looked Jake in the eye, and said "Your daughter's nearly eleven, isn't she? She's going to need a wand of her own."
"Aren't we supposed to wait until she goes off to school?" asked Helen.
"You could," said Mrs. Gonzalez, "but they'll not only be very expensive but the shops will be crowded with mother and fathers buying wands for their children."
Mrs. Gonzalez had a point, thought Helen, remembering her last trip to New York for a legal conference and being shocked by the prices.
"Why not buy your daughter a wand made here?" said Mrs. Gonzalez "Made in Texas by Texans."
Jake had heard that old sales pitch for years, but he wasn't quite sure about Texas-made wands. He also suspected that the wand-maker was probably one of Mrs. Gonzales' relatives. On the other hand, Jake had to admit that if there were better wands at better prices made elsewhere, he didn't have a clue as to where to find them or how much they cost.
"So who makes these wands?" asked Helen. "Are they local?"
"One of my cousins," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
Helen and Jake looked at each other. Their facial expressions and body language were like a conversation: it was as if they asked: are these wands any good? Are there better ones out there? If we do buy Daria this wand, will it be good enough? At the end of it, Jake shrugged and Helen nodded. Whether the wand was just good enough or the very best, it would give Daria a head start on many of her classmates. If it was a dud they could get her a new one. "All right," she said.
"So how much do these wands cost?" said Helen.
"Acerca de ciento dragots," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
"In dollars?" said Helen.
"About one hundred and fifty," Mrs. Gonzalez replied. "There's also a tax. They're supposed to be registered."
"Can we buy one for her and give it to her as a surprise?" Helen asked.
"No, she has to come with you," said Mrs. Gonzalez. "Getting the right wand is difficult. It's like buying a good dress. You have to be there in person."
"So when would be a good time?" said Helen.
"This coming weekend?" said Mrs. Gonzalez.
"I think that would work, but I don't know Daria's schedule," said Helen.
"Sunday afternoon?"
Mrs. Gonzalez nodded in approval. "That should work," she said. "You can call my granddaughter Linda if it doesn't. She has a phone and I'll get the message from her."
-(((O-O)))—
Daria came home that evening, worn out and ready for bed. Jake and Helen decided that this was not the right time to tell her.
Jake and Helen hoped to give the news to her jointly, but a secretary from the office called at exactly the wrong moment. Clenching his teeth in frustration, Jake motioned to Daria to come outside with him to the back patio.
"Kiddo, Mrs. Gonzalez stopped by the other day and your Mom and I decided that it's time for you to get your own wand," he said.
Daria had tried to imagine this conversation for months and she'd been in constant fear that it would derail because of what happened with her bedroom wall.
"For real?" she said.
"For real," said Jake.
"Do we go to a store or something?" she asked.
"Your Mom and I talked it over with Mrs. Gonzalez," said Jake. "It sounds like a custom fitting. We'll have to go to the wand-maker's. Mrs. Gonzalez agreed to guide us there. Are you doing anything on Sunday afternoon?"
Daria had a flash of resentment about her parents re-arranging her schedule without telling her, but after thinking about it, she realized that she'd be free.
"I'm available," she said.
"Great!" said Jake. "I'll let Mrs. Gonzalez know."
-(((O-O)))—
Mrs. Gonzalez showed up at the Morgendorffers' front door on Sunday around one o'clock in the afternoon. She'd driven, or been driven, by a harried-looking twenty-something girl in an older pickup. She and Mrs. Gonzalez walked up to the door, said hello, and the girl introduced herself. Helen heard her name as Lisa. She stayed just long enough for a cup of coffee, then left, leaving Mrs. Gonzalez alone with the Morgendorffers. Helen said that she'd like to come, but she had some briefs to read and she needed to stay home with Quinn and Veronica.
Helen, Jake, and Daria had remained in the living room with Mrs. Gonzalez after Lisa had driven off. Finally, Mrs. Gonzalez rose from her seat, stood up, and said "It's time. Let's go!" Jake stood up too. So did Daria.
"Mrs. Gonzalez, a pleasure to see you again," said Helen. "Have fun, Jakey, Daria!"
"Be safe!"
Jakey stepped around Mrs. Gonzalez and opened the front door. "We'll use my truck," he said.
Jake had bought a medium-sized SUV after his beloved crew-cab pick-up was totaled in a wreck in Brownwood the previous year. He raced ahead and opened the front passenger door for Mrs. Gonzalez while Daria opened the door behind it for herself. He buckled up, as did Daria and Mrs. Gonzalez, started the engine, and they all set off.
"So where are we going?" asked Jake.
"My cousin lives out in the country," Mrs. Gonzalez. "It's a way from town."
Highland being comparatively small, they quickly left the city limits and rolled out into the countryside. To Jake's surprise, it didn't take them long to leave the network of US, state, and county roads he'd taken for granted since he moved to Texas and onto gravel roads that seemed only a step or two above being driveways.
They stopped at a typical sheet-metal gate of the sort that Daria knew was used to separate one pasture from another.
"Do we go through it?" said Jake.
"Yes," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
Jake got out to open the gate. He opened it, got back in the driver's seat, then drove past the gate, then stopped and got out again. He'd learned enough about ranch protocols to know that people driving through pasture gates should not only open gates but close them behind them. He did this several times.
Jake was lost. He had a good sense of direction, even back at that hell-hole of a military academy, but he'd already had trouble guessing where he was even before he left the pavement and turned onto a dirt track. Jake turned down one bumpy road and then another. After passing through an open gate, taking care to make sure that it remained opened, he turned to Mrs. Gonzalez.
"How much further?" he asked.
"The next turn," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
Jake made a right turn, crossed over a cattle guard, and found himself on a driveway leading to an old stone house with a cistern. The house had several wooden outbuildings: one that looked like a gardening shed, another that had the look of a garage, and a third that could be another garage or possibly a workshop.
"We're here," said Mrs. Gonzalez. Jake gratefully put the SUV in Park and gave a sigh of relief. The three of them got out of the truck and walked up to the front door, Mrs. Gonzalez leading the way. She walked up to the doorway, flicked her wand, and something rang like a doorbell.
Daria heard several voices inside chattering away in Spanish, then an older man opened the door.
Mrs. Gonzalez and the older man exchanged greetings in Spanish, briefly conversed, then gestured towards Jake and Daria.
"This is Eusebio Sandoz," said Mrs. Gonzalez. "He's the wandmaker."
Eusebio Sandoz was an old man beginning to stoop as the years beat down on him. Daria thought that he looked real old; Jake guessed that he must be in his vigorous eighties. He peered at the Morgendorffers through his thick glasses, said something in Spanish to Mrs. Gonzalez, gesturing at Jake.
"He says that he doesn't think that you're a wizard," Mrs. Gonzalez translated.
"Well, you've got that right, Pops," thought Jake.
"No," said Jake. "No es mi." I think I said that right, he thought. It had been years since Spanish class at Buxton Ridge and even living in Texas hadn't done anything to give him anything even remotely close to fluency.
Mr. Sandoz gave him a smile, then looked at the eleven year-old auburn-haired girl with an appraising eye. "So the señorita is the witch?" he said.
Mr. Sandoz must be a native Spanish-speaker. Jake heard the last word as hueech.
Jake smiled and gave a nod. "Si," said Jake. "Es mi hija." Mrs. Gonzalez fired off what sounded like a couple of paragraphs of Spanish. Jake recognized words here and there but he didn't understand what she said.
"Ven conmigo," said Eusebio.
Mr. Sandoz's "showroom" so to speak was the further outbuilding, a wooden garage about 120 feet away from the main house. that looked like it didn't match either his house or his other outbuilding. He opened the side door, then motioned for them to follow.
Mr. Sandoz's "show room" was less of a show-room than a work-shop.
Mr. Sandoz motioned with a wand and a couple of ceiling blinds rolled back, revealing skylights. He then gestured at what looked something like a very old-fashioned radio and Jake heard a sports announcer describing a baseball game.
"He likes his baseball," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
He gestured for Jake to take a seat and for Daria to stand over to one side, then said something to Mrs. Gonzalez, who translated.
"He asked which arm is your wand arm," she said.
"I write with my right hand," said Daria.
Mr. Sandoz nodded, then picked up a tape measure. and started taking Daria's measurements. He then gestured with his own right arm, held it out straight, then said something to Mrs. Gonzalez.
Mr. Sandoz nodded, then picked up a tape measure. Holding the tape measure, he then gestured with his own right arm, held it out straight, then said something in Spanish to Mrs. Gonzalez. "He wants you to hold out your right arm," she said.
Daria extended her right arm, wondering why Mr. Sandoz wanted to measure it. He took his tape measure, then measured the distance from her finger to her shoulder, then from extended wrist to her shoulder, from wrist to elbow, knee to armpit, then measured the top of her head. Jake watched him like a hawk. After measuring the top of Daria's head, Mr. Sandoz nodded, satisfied, then went to a set of shelves and began pulling down long, thin boxes.
Setting the boxes on the counter, Mr. Sandoz picked up his wand and with a flick, raised the garage door.
"En esta dirección. You point the wand that way," he said, pointing at the driveway. [Alt+162]
Jake moved his chair over to the side of his daughter. Jake had already retreated behind his daughter. He'd already seen a couple of people from the get-togethers at Los Girasoles use their wands. Wands might not be firearms, but years of training at Buxton Ridge Military Academy had taught him that firearms were dangerous and he decided to give the business end of a witch's wand the same healthy respect he'd given to Buxton Ridge's Garands.
Daria picked up the first wand and pointed it out the front and flicked it. Some red sparks fizzled, but nothing else happened.
"No," said Señor Sandoz. Daria set the first wand down and picked up another one.
Daria tried the second wand. Something shot out of that wand and blew a hole in an empty steel barrel Mr. Sandoz had left across the driveway.
"No," said Mr. Sandoz.
"This one, maybe," said Señor Sandoz.
Mr. Sandoz went back and brought out more boxes.
"Una señorita dificil," he said to Mrs. Gonzalez. Mr. Gonzalez smiled and shook her head.
Daria tried more wands. They didn't work. After a while she started feeling embarrassed. She'd tried more than a dozen wands at this point and wondered if they were going to find anything that suited her.
She was reminded of her second dance recital. She'd worked so long and tried so hard to put on a good performance, only to slip and land on her face. No fault of her own. They'd waxed the floor and Mrs. Crush had ignored the danger.
"Prueba con este," said Eusebio.
He handed the wand to Mrs. Gonzalez, who looked at Daria and gave the frustrated and embarrassed girl a smile and a shrug.
Mr. Sandoz had set his radio or whatever on low volume. Still, Daria could hear the faint sounds of somebody's stadium organ playing in the background.
"He says this one is made from Mesquite and has a core of conejo—something gut," said Mrs. Gonzalez. Mr. Sandoz gestured with his hands, imitating horns or antlers.
Daria knew that the Spanish word for jack-rabbit was "conejo."
"Oh, con cuernos?" she said. "A jackelope?"
"Si," said Mr. Sandoz.
Mr. Sandoz nodded and chuckled as the serious-minded girl gestured about her head with her hands.
Jake smiled too. He'd seen the jackelope postcards for sale at a couple of Highland five-and-dimes and had assumed that they were mythical creatures. It was nice to learn that they actually existed.
The organ music worked up to a crescendo.
Daria flicked the wand. The Jackelope wand didn't work either.
Mr. Sandoz smiled and said something else that Jake didn't catch, although he heard "dificil," and "estamos cerca."
Mrs. Gonzalez smiled and nodded, saying something to Mr. Sandoz in response.
"Uno mas. One more and then we should take a break, Hokay?" said Mrs. Gonzalez.
"OK," said Daria, feeling dispirited.
Mrs. Gonzalez handed her another wand. Daria took it by its handle. This wand was different. She felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. Heartened by the wand's feel and the sense of what must be magic flowing through it, she raised the wand above her head, brought it down through the late afternoon air and a stream of blue and silvery sparks shot through the end like a Roman candle.
It was like playing with sparklers during the Fourth or July, only more so. When Daria had handled her first sparklers, she could only pretend to feel the magic moving from her hand and fingers to the blazing sparkler. This time, Daria could actually feel the power moving through her and the wand she was holding.
Mrs. Gonzalez whooped and clapped. Eusebio clapped and shouted "Bueno! Muy bien, señorita!"
Daria lowered the wand, awed at what she'd just done, and smiled.
Jake just looked astonished. Jake just stared open-mouthed at what just happened.
Eusebio said something in Spanish to Mrs. Gonzalez that Jake didn't catch.
"He says that it's the wand that chooses the witch, not the witch who chooses the wand," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
"So what is it made of?" Jake said unexpectedly.
Mr. Sandoz said something in Spanish. Mrs. Gonzalez translated.
"He said that the wood is mesquite, but the core is from a Thunderbird feather," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
Jake was awed. He'd been surprised to learn that Thunderbirds were real, not just legends or a brand-name for automobiles. He'd never seen one or even any part of one, and here was Kiddo with a wand made with one.
"You like it, Kiddo?" he said to Daria.
"I love it," Daria replied with a smile.
Jake fished bills out of his wallet. The price was about what Mrs. Gonzalez said it would be. Mr. Sandoz wrote him a receipt.
"You'll have to get it registered," said Mrs. Gonzalez.
That would come later. But for now, Kiddo had a wand of her own.
Made in Texas by Texans, thought Jake with a smirk.