Chapter 3

July 13, 1987- Bowen Residence, Bradford, Yorkshire, England

It was completely obvious that Tracy's best friends had collaborated on their presents for her ninth birthday.

Patricia had gotten her a brand new astronomy book, which was sort of a given considering that Tracy had been obsessed with everything to do with stars and outer space for the past three years. Then she had opened her gift from William, an amazing collapsible telescope that screwed onto a tripod that was almost as tall as her, and the present that Ava had given her, a metal globe showing all the constellations and a flat star chart, and known for sure that the three of them had planned this.

"Too bad you couldn't have a sleepover," commented one of the girls from her gymnastics class, "we could have stargazed."

On her parents' insistence, Tracy's party was not small. Along with Patricia, William, and Ava, there were three girls from gymnastics, four kids from Sunday school, and one daughter of her mum's friend. They were all rubbing shoulders tolerably well, but Tracy would have been happier having just her three friends there. Tracy's two older brothers had gone to watch a rounders game with their uncle, or else they would have been in attendance to.

After she finished opening presents and everyone else was done admiring them, her mum and her mum's friend ushered everyone out into the back garden. There they lay down a picnic blanket and waited for the arrival of the traveling zoo that Tracy's parents had booked. While they waited the kids kicked around a football and pulled single cards from the tarot deck Patricia had gotten for her birthday, though Mrs. Duncan-Smith, Mrs. Bowen's friend, quickly put a stop to the latter.

The zoo arrived in a green van with the words 'Cassandra's Creatures' painted on the sides in large yellow letters and in smaller blue letters the slogan 'Let the zoo come to you'. Mr. Bowen directed them to the back of the house, and the kids stopped playing to stare at the man and woman bringing large boxes of metal, wood, and plastic into the garden. The seven boxes stood tantalizingly around the picnic blanket until the woman, Cassandra herself, announced with great enthusiasm that they were ready to begin.

"Now," Cassandra said with a smile once all twelve kids had sat down "I'm going to start by introducing you to a very good friend of mine. His name is Albert, and I think he will be very happy to meet all of you."

She took the lid off of a blue plastic container, reached in with both hands, and pulled out a large, two-toned brown snake. One of the girls from gymnastics squealed in fright and scampered away from the reptile. She turned the circle that they were sitting in into more of the shape of a bird's head.

"Albert is a royal python." Cassandra told them. "They're also called ball pythons because they tend to curl up into a ball when they're frightened. Albert won't hurt you, he doesn't bite and he's the laziest snake I've ever met!"

As she was saying this Albert simply hung lethargically from her hands, occasionally flicking his tongue out to taste the air. Cassandra told them that they could hold Albert if they wanted to. She brought him around the circle of eight and nine-year-olds, all of whom took the chance to hold a real live snake, even the girl who had screamed when she saw him.

"You know, he is kind of cute," the girl admitted when she handed him back to Cassandra.

Albert flicked out his tongue and looked almost as if he was smiling at the girl.

As William cradled Albert in his hands, the snake made his first unassisted movement since he had been taken out of his box. He turned his head and rested it on William's knee, looking in the direction of Patricia, who was the only child yet to hold him. Following Cassandra's instructions, William gently stroked Albert's head, and Albert tickled the tips of his fingers with his tongue.

"You're a cool little guy, aren't you?"

"Yes, he is," Patricia agreed.

Cassandra took Albert back from William. She told Patricia how to hold him, though she had already done the same for the other children, and then handed Albert to the little redhead. The snake touched his jaw to Patricia's left wrist. Then, without any other warning, he slid up her arm in one smooth motion and planted his head on her collarbone. The rest of the group looked surprised, but not as surprised as Cassandra, whose eyebrows were disappearing into her hairline.

"Well," she said after a moment of stunned silence "it looks like someone has made a new friend."

Albert flicked his tongue out sharply, as if he were saying "Gee, what was your first clue?"

Patricia tilted her head and looked Albert straight in the eye. She could have sworn that he winked at her, but she knew that snakes didn't have eyelids.

Tracy noticed the soft look that her friend was giving the reptile. She asked Cassandra, "Could she hold onto him for a little bit longer?"

If it was even possible, Cassandra looked more surprised. "I suppose so.," she decided. "James can introduce you to our next animal friend."

The man came over from where he had been leaning against the fence. "I'd be glad to, Cassandra."

James grinned and reached into one of the other plastic containers. "This little girl is an absolutely beautiful creature. Dee is a common chameleon and she has quite a few special talents. Does anyone know what they are?"

Albert had to be put back in his box after James finished talking about Dee. Then they got to see a large raccoon, a snowy owl, a little brown bat, a fluffy guinea pig, and a white ferret that they walked about the grass on a leash.

"That was fun," Ava said quietly after Cassandra and James had packed up and left. "The guinea pig was cute."

Ava had gotten to hold the guinea pig in her lap and feed it a carrot while some of the other girls were walking the ferret. It was undoubtedly her favorite animal of the bunch.

"Do you think your granny would let us get you one?" William asked. "She did let you take Hammy home over the break."

Hammy was their class hamster, who enjoyed tearing up his nest every other day and gnawing for hours on a single piece of apple.

Ava shrugged. "Maybe. You'd have to ask her."

"I think we will," Patricia decided, linking her arm with Ava's. "It'll be easier than getting Uncle Remus to let me get a snake."

"Why wouldn't he let you get a snake?" William wondered. "You're plenty responsible enough to take care of it on your own."

"He doesn't like snakes." She grinned rakishly. "Now an owl, that would be a different story…"

William and Ava both began to laugh at the suggestion of having an owl for a pet.

"An…owl," William said between chuckles. "That'd…be…dead…useful…wouldn't…it?"

"Oh yes," Patricia said seriously. "They carry the mail and everything."

She winked at her friends, and her smile broadened when Tracy came over to them and asked what the joke was.

"Patricia was just singing the praises of pet owls," replied Ava, who had managed to stop laughing. "She says that they'll carry mail for you."

"They also do wonders at keeping down the rat population," Patricia pointed out.

All four of them burst out laughing again. From the back door, Mrs. Duncan-Smith looked at them disapprovingly.

"It's time for ice-cream," she called. "Come inside and wash up!"

The children tramped into the house and proceeded to thoroughly make a mess of themselves while they pushed into the tiny powder room to scrub their hands. They eventually ended up sitting back outside on the grass with their ice-creams, and the party slowly became smaller as parents came to pick up their children. Patricia was one of the last to leave. She waved happily back at Tracy as her uncle's car rolled away.

"Happy Birthday!" she shouted again, just before they disappeared around the corner.

Tracy went to bed that night utterly exhausted but extremely happy. Her mother smiled to herself as she and her husband washed the dishes. Her daughter and her friends had enjoyed themselves, and that made every bit of mess completely worth it.

July 14, 1987- Duncan-Smith Residence, Bradford, Yorkshire, England

Mary Bowen should have known something was up the minute Connie had invited her to tea. They had just seen each other the day before for one thing, and the fact that they never had tea together for another. Connie Duncan-Smith only hosted formal teas for her well-to-do acquaintances, not for the daughter of her mother's maid who she had been forced to play with all through her childhood, and still had to call a friend to keep her mother happy.

Mary adjusted her year-old hat, pulled imaginary wrinkles out of her gloves, and rapped smartly on the door of Collwater, the large, imposing house that Connie and her husband, Robert, lived in. Collwater had been in Robert's family for generations, and he was well known to say that he would sell the house when hell froze over. The butler answered the door and escorted her to the tearoom, really, they had a room just for serving tea, where Connie was already waiting.

"Mary, darling!"

Connie rose from her chair and gave Mary a kiss on each cheek. They sat down and the maid served the tea. Mary sipped uncomfortably from her thin china cup. The two of them were silent. Then Connie abruptly put down her cup of tea.

"Mary, dear, we really must talk about your daughter."

Mary almost dropped her cup and just barely got it on the saucer without spilling anything.

"My daughter? Why on earth would you want to talk about Tracy?"

Connie blinked slowly as if she didn't understand what Mary was talking about.

"Why, her acquaintances of course. The Styles boy is a good choice, and the two Marcy girls, and of course my dear Wendy, but the rest of them really must go."

Mary did her best not to glare. Who was Connie to choose her daughter's friends?

"There's nothing wrong with Tracy's friends, Connie. I for one am not one to choose who her children can be friends with. They are all nice, well behaved kids, and they all take care of each other." Connie pursed her lips.

"That Stimpson girl, did you see what she was doing yesterday? Going around with that heathen card deck. She wanted to give my Wendy a horrible grim reaper card before I put a stop to her nonsense."

Mary frowned. That didn't make sense. Patricia always left the Death card out whenever she did any sort of reading, especially the lighthearted one card interpretation she was doing the day before. Mary had even seen her take that card out of her deck and put it in her skirt pocket before she let anyone pull a card. She opened her mouth to say that Connie must have been mistaken, but Connie was going on like a verbal express train. She was quite incensed about the entire, as she saw it, 'scandalous affair'.

"Do you know who she reminds me of? That boy that my sister Yvonne was telling me about. What was his name? Porter? He's a horrible little boy who's the nephew of her friend, Petunia Dursley. He's done nothing but make trouble since he moved in, and he's done his best to get Petunia's son, Dudley, into as much trouble as possible. It's quite a crucible for the Dursleys, but you can't choose your family I suppose."

Connie picked up her cup and drank a bit of tea, both to moisten her mouth and to give time for what she had said to sink in. Mary looked scandalized.

"Connie, you haven't even met the boy!"

Connie raised one slim eyebrow, something that Mary had never managed to accomplish.

"Are you suggesting that Yvonne lied, to me?"

"Oh, certainly not!" Mary exclaimed. Connie was very sensitive about the integrity of her sister, who was a notorious gossip. "I just think you should meet a person yourself before you presume to judge them."

"Humph," Connie raised her cup to her lips. "Well, maybe the boy isn't as bad as she said, but that girl, Mary, that girl is trouble, I can see it in her eyes. You mark my words, Mary; if you don't get your daughter away from her the little minx will have her walking the streets in red shoes before they turn twenty."

This time Mary didn't almost spill her tea, she completely upset the table and caused the entire pot of tea to spill on the floor. Thankfully nothing was broken, though the rug to the side of the table would probably be stained beyond hope of cleaning. That didn't matter to Connie as she absolutely hated that rug.

"Connie!"

The maid who had been standing in the corner immediately found a cloth and began sopping up the lukewarm tea while Mary sat staring at Connie in shock.

"How could you say such a thing? She's just a little girl!"

"A girl who lives with her uncle in a cottage barely fit for a dog." Connie sniffed.

She lifted her foot off the floor so that the maid could mop up the tea under the table. "It's outrageous."

"Connie, Remus Lupin is a perfectly respectable man," Mary berated. "And he dotes on Patricia."

"He's a prison guard, my dear. I suppose you heard about what happened to Charles Turpin last week? He went and got completely drunk, and then somehow got it into his head that his wife was still alive. He walked all over town calling for her until he passed out on the steps of the police station, and he left his daughter alone at home."

"Connie!"

The subject gradually came around to less damaging gossip, but Mary still left Collwater seriously wondering why she kept up her acquaintance with that woman. Of course she did not make her daughter break off her friendship with Patricia Stimpson, though she did make very sure that Connie would never find out about their get togethers. It was difficult, but with Mr. Lupin's help she managed quite well.

After a week she didn't have to worry about that anymore, though it was for quite a sad reason. Connie and Robert were selling their house and moving to London, but it wasn't because hell had frozen over (even though it probably had after they decided to sell). Wendy Duncan-Smith had been run down by a car as she crossed the street with her nanny. The nanny had gotten away with a few broken bones, but poor Wendy had died on the way to the hospital. At the funeral, Connie had been inconsolable, and she held onto her husband while she sobbed uncontrollably through the whole thing. The next day Collwater was put up for sale. Surprisingly, it sold rather quickly, though the people who bought it didn't move in until months later. Then the Duncan-Smith's went to London. Their furniture was cleared out, their artwork was taken down and their large staff was dismissed, starting with the nanny.