I didn't bother to shower the next day, I wasn't so trusting of it yet anyway, so instead I dressed in my ragged clothes - cut-off's and an old tank top - and began to clean.
I found a vacuum in the hall closet and that succeeded in sucking up the glitter from the carpet quite nicely.
"You missed a spot," the mirror groaned. "Please don't let my carpet rot."
"Shut up," I mumbled, quietly obliging and doubling back to the blasted spot.
Things got even more annoying when I began to dust the counters and furniture. I had my handy dandy duster I'd owned since my first year of college, and I'd refused to give it up since. It always worked wonders. That was, until now.
I swiped at the bluish-purple dust with the furry stick, surprised to see that it hadn't budged. I ran over it once more. Nothing. I grumbled in frustration and went over it again. This time, instead of the thick coat of grainy powder, it formed words in fancy, flourishing scroll.
The only dusters that can truly
Work magic!
Sold across the street for only
$9.99!
Get yours today!
I glared at the words for a moment, then, as if it sensed that I was done reading, the writing unfurled back into a steady layer of undisturbed dust.
"I'm not enjoying this," I commented, staring angrily at the misty mirror.
The mask smiled sarcastically, but said nothing.
I sighed and flung the old duster down on the couch in surrender. "All right, I'm going."
The dust formed a smiley face, and melted away almost as quickly as it appeared.
"But I'm not even going to try the shower until Mr. Charming comes to inspect it," I told no one in particular. "I don't want to know what it will cover me in the moment I step inside."
"You have a crush on him, don't you?" the mirror said, smiling smugly.
"You're not rhyming," I shot back with another glare, plainly annoyed.
"It gets tiresome," it replied. "My rhymes are crap, anyway."
"Here, here," I muttered, toasting him with an imaginary glass. "And by the way," I added, turning away. "I don't even know him." I hurried out the door, slamming it after catching a few light chuckles of a piece of glass's ignorance.
Mirrors don't know anything, I thought. And he was right - his rhymes were crap.
The fairies' trailer laid thick in smoke of all colors I thought possible, and even some I didn't, from yellow to puce to indigo. I coughed as I was allowed entrance by an elderly, stout, and mischievous looking fairy dressed completely in magenta.
"I need a wand," I said quickly, trying to save the precious air harbored in my lungs.
A small explosion answered me, accompanied by a thick plume of baby pink smog.
"Just experiments, dear, experiments," the stout fairy assured me, her chubby hand resting on my arm, shining a rosy pink. Her irises were a soft burgundy; her hair fell in heavy scarlet curls around her wrinkling face. She would have seemed like a good natured grandmother, except for the spark in the flaming eyes, the hint of mockery thickly hidden behind her voice, and the crooked grin that played across her lips.
Her rosy hand grasped mine and she led me into the living room, where I held my breath, my chest becoming sore from the effort. The smoke was so thick that I couldn't even see the walls, the furniture was covered with pillows of it, and the only way I could see the other two fairies was because their bright clothing put out a permanent glow of blue and green. They were both prodding various things with their wands, including an old sausage, some sort of blobs that looked alive, a plastic cat toy, and a large brick of cheddar cheese.
"Breakfast," the red fairy explained as she pushed me out of the living room and into what I thought had been a wall but turned out to be a doorway. So much for ever being able to find my way out of a fire. The room she had pushed me into was completely free of smoke, smog, and odd smells, even though the door was wide open. The smoke loomed outside like it was pressing against an invisible window, and I watched it with contempt.
"Over here, dear." The fairy dragged me by the shoulder over to the opposite wall, where boxes and boxes marked with "WANDS" were piled to the ceiling. Her hand made a little wiggling motion, and something flew into her hand. Before I could see it, she pressed it into mine. I stared down at it; eyebrows furrowed, and weighed it in my palm. It was a white stick, about as thin as a piece of yarn and as light as a sheet of paper. It twisted around my index finger, almost lovingly, then went back to its straight, rigid form and stayed that way.
"Urm…all right." I said, grasping the end with my index finger and thumb. "It's a…wand."
"It's really all-purpose," the fairy explained cheerily. "But we only sell them for cleaning." A piece of paper suddenly appeared in my left hand. "Those are the instructions on proper use. If you have any problems, you won't be able to find us."
The room suddenly disappeared, and I found that I was standing on my front porch, staring at the door. The bright sun gleamed heavily off of the shiny doorknob and the dirty windows; the aluminum siding absorbed it, only giving off a sort of gray glow. I blinked dully. The wand was still in my hand; the instruction sheet wound snuggly around it.
I realized I hadn't paid. I grabbed my wallet out of my pocket and ruffled through it - the ten-dollar bill I had meant to give her was gone, and in its place was a single penny. I wasn't comfortable with the fairies having easy access to my wallet, but what was done was done. At least they hadn't taken anything else…that I could see anyway.
I reentered my trailer and sat down on the couch, leaning back and taking a deep breath.
"Mr. Charming isn't going to be too happy," the mirror said from its home on the wall.
I opened my eyes and tilted my head to stare at him, my light brown hair unfurling in a light frizz around my face. I really needed to take a shower sometime soon. "Why?"
Its lips pursed, and I realized that he refusing to answer me.
"Why?" I demanded.
The mask just chuckled and disappeared. I sighed, then, grasping the wand, I got up from the couch with a groan and decided to go to work.
The wand worked quite well: within minutes every speck of dust had disappeared, the windows were sparkling like new, and every bit of rust from the doorknobs and the windowsills had faded away. Following the instructions to get rid of obnoxious odors, the nauseating rose smell dissipated, replaced with a scent that could only be explained by the term "lemon fresh".
I collapsed back on the couch, dropping the wand beside me, somehow exhausted from just a few minutes effort. The house was clean, my work was done - besides putting things away. That task still loomed before me; I had no spell for putting various things in their places. I grumbled in dissatisfaction and got back off the couch, grabbing the box roughly and stomping off into my room.
The closet was located in the wall just a few feet away from my bed, about five feet wide and I wasn't sure how deep, as I hadn't yet opened it. I did so, only to be greeted by a loud bleating.
"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
I automatically slammed the closet door shut, wide eyed. What the hell…
I opened it again, and stared down at the closet floor. There stood a small sheep, it's wool snow white, its skin black, staring up at me with big, blank eyes. I stared back down at it, and it wagged its tail, blinking dumbly.
Why was there a sheep in my closet?
I kneeled down and shoved the sheep gently out of my way, looking past it so I could see further down. The closet wasn't that deep, only about two and one half feet, but beside the animal sat a dish, full of food and water in separated compartments, and a soft dog bed.
"Baaaaaaa…"
"Shush," I said impatiently, searching under the bed, underneath the sheep, beneath the dish, for some sort of explanation on why livestock was living behind a door in my bedroom. Alas, I found nothing.
I sighed and stared at the little animal, "What am I going to do with you?"
Wag…wag…wag…
"Urgh, come on." I tried to pick the sheep up, but it was surprisingly heavy for such a small animal. With an exhausted sigh, I sunk to the ground and leaned back to my bed. It trotted to my side and butted my outstretched hand gently with its head.
"You're weird," I said under my breath, stroking the wool thoughtfully, and then I smiled in spite of myself. "But I have to admit you're cute."
"Baaaa."
"Yeah, you heard me."
So I had a new pet, it really wasn't that bad. I found a litter box underneath the kitchen sink, and to my great surprise and relief, the sheep was housebroken. Using a spell on the instruction sheet, I found that I could clean the box without getting my hands dirty. Things were shaping up quite well.
In addition, I was greatly excited by another spell that was typed in very small letters at the end of the paper, it was a self-cleaning spell. It looked like I wouldn't have to use the shower after all.
A little nervous, I never really thought about putting a spell on myself, I tapped the wand lightly on the top of my head. An odd feeling, like my skin melting into warm water, flowed down my head, my neck, and my shoulders, past my waist and legs and down to my toes. My cut-offs had become shorter, the bottoms hemmed, and my old tank top looked new. My hair was silky and laid perfectly across my face, and with a glance in the mirror, I found that the zit that had randomly decided to sprout on my nose this morning had vanished.
Thank you, fairies.
Before I had enough time to ooh and ah over my finding, the doorbell rang.
"Guess who that is?" the mirror threw out as I walked past. "I'd put that wand away if I were you."
No matter how much I despised him, I decided that there might be some common sense behind his words. I quickly opened the drawer in the coffee table, threw the wand in, and slammed it shut. The doorbell rang again.
I quickly ran my fingers through my silky hair and opened the door. Mr. Charming stood there, smile lop-sided, a piece of deep brown hair falling in front of his eyes.
Oooooh boy.
"Hey, Gwen," he said, with his cool, business like air. "I see you got the shower to work."
"Shower?" my voice cracked, and I coughed. "Oh…shower…right. Yeah, I did."
"That's great."
I stepped back from the door and beckoned him to come in. I didn't have any idea of what he wanted.
I cleared my throat again. "Um…"
"You want to come to my office and play for a bit?" he asked, still standing on the doorstep. "I'm doing paperwork and I could really use the music."
My heart was starting to flutter. The only words that could run through my mind were "You're a god." I didn't think that would make a very good impression, nor were those the words he would exactly want to hear. He'd probably glance at me, run away screaming, and then evict me as soon as possible.
"Sure." My voice cracked again. I could have kicked myself. "Sounds good."
"Nice," he grinned. I was such a fool, I barely even knew him. Stop! Stop looking at his smile! Aahhhhhh! "See you in ten?"
I nodded, he waved and left. I reluctantly closed the door behind him, then, a little dazed, continued to stare at the door, imagining him standing there just as he'd done…
The mirror whistled. "Some one's got a cruuuush…"
"Would you shut up?" I yelled angrily, spinning to him and face turning red. Of course, he was right, and he knew it.
"Gwen and Charming sitting in a tree…"
I rolled my eyes, walking over to grab my guitar case. Sheep lay next to it, dozing fitfully. I patted him on the head and spoke to the mirror. "You are such a baby."
"Just because I'm a baby doesn't mean I'm not right."
I grunted in reply and made my way to the door. Slamming it just as he started another chorus.
"Gwen and Char…"
Enough of stupid mirrors. I had a crush to entertain.