"Mummy, tell me a story

"Mummy, tell me a story."

"What's the magic word?"

"Please?"

* A sigh and a smile * "All right dear. How about your favorite? Harry Potter?"

"No, mummy, not that book!"

"Well, what then? The story of how Dumbledore defeated Grindlewald?"

"Nope."

"The story of Rowena Ravenclaw?"

"Uh-uh!"

* exasperated * "Maddy, what would you like me to read?"

"Not read Mummy, tell!"

"You want me to tell a story."

"Yes!"

* another, smile, this one thoughtful * "Very well. I haven't told a story in ages. Hmm… well, I suppose I shall begin at the beginnig…

Not so long ago, in a place not so very far from here, lived a little girl. She was a very special little girl, indeed, as all little girls are. However, this child was especially special, for she had a strange way of making the most unlikely things happen, from the morning she had been found on the steps of Miss Lillian Marple's home for abandoned children. The sleeping baby had been found wrapped in a lavender blanket, with a note pinned to it. Please, it read in a wavy script, take good care of Anna Selene Moon. Or at least, this was the story that Miss Marple had told Anna as soon as she had been old enough to ask. Anna was now six, and very inquisitive indeed. Miss Marple did not mind this, as she was a very kind lady, but answering questions for the 29 children who lived at the home proved very exhausting at times. So, noting the tiredness with which Miss Marple retold the story, Anna decided she would move on to other stories. The home had a rather large parlor, in which one could find the most enchanting books, full of tales of kings and queens, knights, princesses and castles. Anna spent most of her time after lessons perched atop a tall ladder in the corner of the dark, dusty room, reading. Here she, sat, her hand resting on her cheek the day my story begins.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows of the wood paneled room, illuminating the small, red pigtailed figure, lost in a magical world. Her green eyes large and gleaming, she turned the final page and sighed. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair…" She closed the book, gazing dreamily down upon her favorite room. Her dreamy expression quickly changed to a scowl as she saw a boy duck his curly brown head in the doorway.

"Is your highness too busy to come help us clean?" he asked, with a sparkle in his eye. "Miss Marple asked me to come get you."

Ignoring the boy, Anna climbed down the ladder, and walked past him to the door. As she passed by, he reached out a hand and gave one of the wavy pigtails running down her back a fierce yank. With a yelp, she turned, but he had already run out into the hall. "I'll get you Roger, I swear it," she muttered under her breath. She trudged up the curving staircase to the room where the children slept. Cleaning was not one of Anna favorite chores.

* * * * *

That night, long after the lights went out, a small group of children met in a circle on the floor of their room. They listened, wide eyed, as Anna read them a story from the book of fairy tales she had been reading earlier.

"…and they lived happily ever after."

"Oh, Anna," whispered a small girl who was on the verge of tears. "That was even better than the one you told last week!"

Anna smiled at the girl. "Thank you Clarabelle, I- " she cut off shortly as someone appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, it's just Roger," said another child. "Hey, Roger, why're you up so late?"

"None of your business," replied the boy. "Besides, you're all up as well."

"Yes, but we're reading" Clarabelle replied indignantly.

Roger replied with a snort.

"Just 'cause you can't read Roger, doesn't mean that we shouldn't," replied a freckle faced boy. With an expression that was hard for Anna to read in the dark, Roger turned and walked back down the stairs, from where he had come.

Anna turned to the little boy. "Roger can't read?" she asked in amazement. After all, he was a few years older than her.

"Nope," replied the little boy. "he isn't as smart as you, Miss Anna. At the place he was before, they didn't teach."

Anna blushed and smiled at the first remark, but inwardly she was shocked by the second. Not able to read! She couldn't imagine, if she was unable to read, what would she do? As annoying as Roger was, she couldn't help but feel a spark of pity for him.

"One more story Anna, please?" pleaded Clarabelle.

Anna turned and looked at her. "I'm sorry Clare, I'm just too tired to read any more. Next week."

Disappointed, the small circle broke, and climbed into their beds. As Anna tucked herself in, she looked over at the bed next to hers. Clarabelle's round face peered out at her, framed by her golden ringlets. "Thanks, Anna," she murmured sleepily. Anna smiled back, and snuggled deeper into her cozy bed. She was just about to fall asleep, but then she realized that she was not alone under the warm blankets. Her toes brushed something furry. With a small scream, she jumped out of bed, and pulled the covers off. There, at the foot of her bed, was a squirrel. Anna stared at it, and it stared back. After what seemed like ages footsteps came rushing down the hall. Miss Marple entered the room, staring about wildly. "What's wrong," she gasped, seeing Anna standing as if petrified in the corner. Roger appeared silently behind her, slipping into the room and to his bed with a slight smirk on his face. Anna stared at him, open mouthed, as it dawned on her exactly how the rodent had found it's way into her bed. Composing herself, she answered.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Miss Marple. I just found that in my bed…" she pointed "…and it gave me a surprise, that's all."

Miss Marple's eyes narrowed. "We do not have squirrels in this building. How, pray tell, did one end up in your bed?" Her eyes swept the room, landing on a now rather uncomfortable-looking Roger. "Roger, did you put this creature in Anna's bed?"

Roger mumbled "Well, not exactly…"

"I can't hear you young man." Miss Marple's face, usually so pretty and youthful, was now looking oh-so-very stern.

"No, I didn't actually put it there," he replied.

Miss Marple sighed, looking weary. "Roger, it's late. I'll speak to you more about this, and about your punishment, in the morning." With that she turned and left. Anna turned back to her bed. The squirrel, which had been there the second before, was now nowhere to be seen. Somehow this didn't phase her. Things had a habit of disappearing, and appearing, out of thin air in this old house. Clarabelle swore it was ghosts, but somehow, Anna didn't think so.

* * * * *

The next morning, Anna rose bright and early. She had wanted to ask Roger if he really couldn't read. However, she found he was already gone.

Anna went down the stairs, and into the kitchen. A few of the other children were already up, and eating. Two of the places had already been cleared, the one at the head of the table where Miss Marple ate, and the place where Roger usually sat. Anna sat down, and helped herself to hot chocolate and a croissant. She looked about at the other children. Two of the younger boys, Sam, the freckle-faced child, and his friend Matthew were discussing some plot of theirs in low voices, giggling occasionally. The others were older children, ones she didn't talk to. She preferred to hang around with the younger ones in the group, they seemed to need her. Most of the older ones just cast sullen glances in her direction, and kept talking to one another. Anna pitied them somehow, for she had heard that most of them were too old to be wanted. Although families rarely came to Miss Marple's as it was, the ones who did usually took the cutest, youngest children from the group. Anna's stomach turned slightly at the thought that perhaps she never would have real family, that perhaps she would remain here, with Miss Marple. True, Miss Marple was kind, but she just wasn't … Anna searched in her head for the right word… a mother. Looking down at her plate, she realized she was no longer hungry. A good book, that's what she needed to cheer her up. Anna took her plate to the sink, washed it, and headed off to the parlor.

She checked on the doorway. There was Roger, dusting the lower shelves. She approached him cautiously, but he ignored her.

"What are you doing in here?" No answer.

"I thought you told Miss Marple you didn't do it," she continued, sounding as if that was highly unlikely.

"I didn't say that," he replied shortly, refusing to look at her. Anna gave up, and wandered over to the ladder. Half way up, she picked out a book. She climbed to the top, and sat down, legs crossed. She opened her book, but continued to watch him, peering over the top edge. "Is it true you can't read?" she asked after a long silence.

Without looking at her he replied. "Can you? You're holding that book upside down." Anna blushed.

"I just wanted to know," she retorted.

He turned toward her, a scowl on his face. "NO, I CAN'T READ! DOES THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?"

At that moment there was a loud crack. Anna felt the ladder give beneath her, felt herself falling. A sound like that of rushing water, of waves, the ocean filled her head. I can't fall she thought wildly. I won't fall. At this, time seemed to be going slower, in fact, the ground didn't rush to meet her as it should have. She grabbed at the air around her, then realized that she was heading ground ward, head first. Like a cat in slow motion, she was able to right herself before she hit the floor with a loud thud. "Ouch."

Roger rushed over, his face pale. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I really didn't – what was that you did?"

Trembling, Anna looked up at him. "I don't know," she whispered, her face ashen.

Miss Marple rushed in. "What was that?! –" she saw the broken ladder, saw Anna sitting on the floor in a daze, Roger standing there, pale as a sheet. "What happened?" she demanded.

Roger spoke. "The ladder, it just cracked –" he glanced at Anna "- and Anna fell, but it was weird, she seemed to slow down and twist just before she hit the ground."

Miss Marple sat down next to Anna, an expression of concern, mixed with something Anna couldn't define, written on her pretty face. "Anna, are you hurt?"

Anna shook her head. Miss Marple placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're a very lucky girl Anna. Please, be careful." With that she stood up, and wiped (could it be?) a tear away from her eye. In an odd voice she said "Roger, I believe that's enough." She turned and swept out of the room. Anna looked up at Roger, who, after staring back for a moment, turned and ran out the door and up the stairs.

* * * * *

After a long, tiring, confusing day, Anna was ready for bed. "No stories tonight," she had told Clarabelle wearily. This must be how Miss Marple felt. Anna didn't want to ever be an adult, if it meant feeling like this. As she passed Miss Marple's room, she noticed a glowing light coming from under the door. She stopped in her tracks as she heard a strange voice, a crisp, older voice. Torn between fear of being caught, and curiosity, she stopped and listened.

"Lillian, (Anna knew this must be Miss Marple's first name) the children may not be safe here. Perhaps you should consider relocation."

Leave here? Anna's heart beat fast. Surely Miss Marple wouldn't –

"I know, Witt, today the Moon child almost fell and broke her neck! But that had nothing to do with that, except for the boy. If only the other home hadn't been found, none of this would have happened. I can't bear to leave this place. Where would we go? What could I tell the children?" Miss Marple let out a sigh. "Really Witt, I don't know if I can do this anymore."

The other, older voice (Witt?) spoke. "He is not a threat anymore, Lillian. At least not for now. But there are others, you need to watch out for followers. So many people think it's over, now would be the perfect time to attack. I'll speak with the headmaster, ask him what he thinks." Anna leaned in, pressing her ear to the door. Headmaster? What headmaster? "I must go, Lillian. I will speak with you in the morning." Anna started up, expecting the mysterious visitor to open the door at any moment. Hiding in the shadows, she watched. But the moments passed, turned into minutes. Finally the door opened. Miss Marple glided out, apparently alone, and went into her room at the end of the hall. When she was sure she was gone, Anna peered into the keyhole of the door. Darkness. Thinking a million things at once, Anna went into the children's room, and fell into bed exhausted.

* * * * *

Anna's thoughts carried over into a restless slumber. She dreamed the same dream she dreamed every night, the one with the garden, and the falling tree blossoms, and the beautiful singing. But this night the dream was slightly different. She wandered into the small house. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw the room with a fire going in the hearth. Odd, in the middle of spring. Then, in the fire, appeared a face. Speaking in the voice she had heard talking to Miss Marple, it told her to leave, run away, before something bad happened. Anna tried to run from the room, but the smoke engulfed her, pulled her back. She heard screaming in the distance. The flames leapt around her, she heard someone yelling her name –

Anna sat up in her bed, coughing. The room was filled with smoke. Was she still dreaming? She felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. "Anna wake up!" It was Clarabelle, her blue eyes filled with tears.

"Clare – what's going on?!"

"We're stuck Anna, the house is burning, and we can't get out!"

Anna's mind came into focus. The house was, indeed on fire. The doorway was blocked with flames, Anna couldn't see the rest of the hall. The older children were yelling, the younger ones, crying, or huddling in their beds. "We have to leave," Anna murmured. Jumping out of bed, she ran to the window, and opened it, fanning smoke out.

Suddenly, a figure was by her side, helping her fan away the smoke. "It's not working!" the boy coughed. Anna could tell by the voice that the person was Roger. Her eyes stung, making it hard to see.

"What can we do?" Roger ducked back into the smoke.

The two children stuck their heads out the window. There, out on the lawn, was Miss Marple, gazing up at the burning house in shock. A fire brigade was there as well, trying to get the hydrant across the street attached to the hose. "The children!" screamed Miss Marple, as a fireman pulled her away from the flames. "There are children inside!"

Roger reappeared with several bed sheets. "Quick, help me tie these together!" The two children furiously knotted the ends. Roger threw the one end of the make-shift rope out the window. "Smallest first!" he cried. "Davy, Matthew…" The two little boys clambered over. Roger held the rope as they shimmied down. "Clarabelle… Thomas… Ella" Anna ran to the back of the room where little Ella was huddled, and tried to pick her up. The three year old was too heavy, so Anna dragged her to the window.

"You've got to hold on to the rope now, Ella. Just pretend that you're Jack, and you need to get away from the horrid giant." The little girl nodded, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Hurry!" called Roger. Anna helped Ella grasp a hold of the sheets. The little child climbed down to safety.

There were only six left, including Roger and Anna. "Charlotte… Joseph… Aidan… Nora…" Finally, they were the only ones. They looked at the rope and then each other.

Roger took a deep breath, causing him to cough. "Well, Anna, you'd better get down."

"But what about you?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Here, tie it to the bedpost," she said. "I'll test it."

He complied. Anna threw a leg over the sill, closed her eyes in a silent prayer for a moment, and grabbed the sheets. She felt the knots strain against her weight as she clambered down. Her feet touched the earth. She started to shake.

"Anna!" cried Miss Marple, rushing toward her. Anna saw she was crying. Miss Marple threw her arms around her. They stood there, watching, waiting…

Anna saw Roger at the window, his face pale beneath the hazel curls. He carefully started down the rope. But, at the second story windows, he stopped. Anna saw why. The knots was unraveling quickly.

"Roger!" all the children screamed as he fell away from the burning building. It was too much for Anna. She fainted, falling in a heap on the grassy lawn.