Author's Notes
I wanted to thank and respond to my reviewers
SRAndrews – Thank you for your two reviews! It's nice to have a reader who keeps up with the story. I don't think any HP characters will pop up... I mean, they don't go to America at all, do they? ;)
Leiselmae – I loved your review. It's not often you get a review with the information you REALLY want on there. I hope you keep reading and keep giving such good reviews!
Pamela Washington was sure she had the Ridges figured out. They were insomniacs who did all of their gardening in the dead of night. It made perfect sense to Pamela, who spent an inordinate amount of time secretly watching Unsolved Mysteries and reading tabloids. She knew the gardening had to be nighttime work, because one evening she inconspicuously planted one of her own naturally grown weeds into a corner of the Ridge's lawn. She even hid it under a bush so that it wouldn't be found unless someone was specifically looking for it; it was an experiment to see how long until they extracted it.
The next morning the weed was gone.
The very next night, which was exceptionally warm for it being September, Pamela set up her ex-husband's old telescope that he had left in the attic. While she knew nothing about stars or even how to work the telescope, she just wanted an excuse to be outside to witness the Ridges performing their nocturnal yard work.
Midnight came and went, and mosquitoes were eating up Pamela's flesh. She was becoming increasingly frustrated with the Ridges. Were they even awake? Maybe they slept first and then did yard work in the very early morning hours? She spotted the light of a flashlight through the playroom window.
When she saw the Ridge boys floating mysteriously in midair, she could hardly believe her eyes. She rushed inside and called her favorite tabloid newspaper with the information.
The next morning, several men with strange clothing appeared on the Ridge's well-manicured lawn. Pamela approached them, announcing that she was the one who spotted the boys and that she was willing to give an interview if the tabloid wished. They exchanged glances and one of them, a tall man with a very small nose, agreed to follow her into her house.
"They're a little crazy," Pamela began excitedly, pouring coffee into an empty plant pot instead of the mug she had meant to use. "I've known it ever since they moved in. That was about nine years ago, when she was pregnant with the oldest—"
Pamela's mind heard the word "Obliviate!" before she completely forgot what she had been talking about. And then, for some strange reason, she completely forgot to whom she'd been talking, since her kitchen was empty. She looked down at the small plant pot filled with coffee, and wondered if she wasn't going partly crazy. Pamela took a long nap that morning, and when she woke, she wondered what the Ridges were up to that day, none the wiser that she had witnessed magic in their house.
Tyler didn't grow at all from the age of seven to the age of nine. The doorway where their father measured their heights each year was growing full of marks, but Tyler's growth stopped at four feet and three inches. It was the morning of June fifth, Tyler's birthday, and as he lay in bed, staring at the bottom of the bunk above him, he imagined his father trying to hide disappointment as he made a mark on the doorway that overlapped with last year's.
Tyler could also imagine the marks of Alex's growth, the lines drawn many inches above Tyler's head. Alex had just turned 11 on the first of June, so the height lines were painfully clear in Tyler's mind.
Alex burst into Tyler's room at eight o'clock.
"Ready to get measured, runt?" Alex laughed, and Tyler heard him run down the stairs. The smell of pancakes filled the room when Alex opened the door, and Tyler decided he might as well get up because there was no longer any chance of him falling back asleep.
Pancakes were a special breakfast at the Ridge household, made only when there was company or when it was someone's birthday, so Tyler took care to eat his pancakes slowly and savor them.
"Pancakes again?" Alex mock whined. Since his birthday was only four days before, it made Tyler's pancakes that much less important. Tyler knew Alex was just trying to make him angry, because Alex helped himself to a number of pancakes before declaring himself full.
Tyler pressed himself up against the doorframe, and his mother happily declared that he had grown a fraction of an inch, but that was because his father didn't make him take his shoes off like he usually did. Just as Tyler suspected, his dad was trying to hide the fact, even from himself, that Tyler simply wasn't growing.
He sulked in the backyard for a while, trying not to feel sorry for himself. His lifelong bane of being treated like a young child was multiplied by the fact that he still looked like he was seven years old. While he never discussed it with his family, Tyler suspected that it was his sickness that had stunted his growth. The night when he and Alex discovered the magic candy and then the crystal ball, Tyler had had a kind of seizure when Mr. Chas entered the room. Alex claimed that he couldn't really remember what had happened, but confidently told Tyler that it had been scary.
Tyler had about seven seizures in the two years following that night, and his parents were growing visibly worried. What was even more worrying, in Tyler's mind, was that after every seizure, he felt increasingly frustrated, as if he had somehow missed out on something while he had blacked out. He tried to hide these rages of frustration, but after the last episode, he flung his dinner plate across the kitchen and demanded to know why this was happening to him.
A handful of strange people came to Tyler's house the morning after his first seizure, and had a long conversation with his parents. What Tyler thought was the strangest, was that he didn't have to take any medicine or go to the hospital whenever it happened. Once, it happened while he was at school. His mother came to pick him up and the next day the entire class acted like nothing had happened. Not like Tyler ever brought it up, though. He was already having enough trouble making friends being the shortest in his entire class without drawing attention to the fact that he became mysteriously ill.
While Tyler sulked in the backyard, Mrs. Washington was snooping around in her own backyard, probably being paranoid as usual, Tyler thought. He wandered to the swing set, climbed the ladder to the slide and sat at the top, letting the hot plastic warm his backside.
He was staring up at the early afternoon sky, when a strange bird caught Tyler's eye. At first he thought it might be an eagle, but as it neared him, he saw that it was an owl. He had never actually seen a real life owl before, not even at the zoo, but he had seen enough pictures and PBS shows to know it was a barn owl.
It was approaching him at an alarming speed and before he could think about what to do, Tyler threw his arms over his head as the owl swooped down, missing Tyler by about a foot.
A letter dropped into Tyler's lap.
He looked around. Where had it come from? Surely the owl didn't drop it; whoever heard of an owl carrying letters.
He read the address.
Tyler RidgeDark Blond Hair: Black Eyes
796 Majken Place
Alexandria, Kentucky
There was no return address or stamp. It had to be magic, Tyler concluded. Ever since the encounter with the magical room behind the closet, his parents sealed up the crawlspace and forbade the boys of mentioning magic or asking about it. His father promised to explain in due time, but they were too young (an explanation at which Tyler became extraordinarily angry). Tyler knew his mother would want to see the letter right away if it had anything to do with magic, but it was addressed to him.
Making sure Mrs. Washington from next door wasn't watching him atop the slide, Tyler turned the letter over and ripped it open. A handful of confetti popped out the top of the opened envelope, followed by music that sounded like a university's fight song. It was very loud, and he was sure Mrs. Washington would hear, so he pulled out the contents of the letter and placed the empty envelope between him and the slide, muffling its notes to a dull hum. He turned his attention to the official-looking letter within.
Congratulations, Tyler William Ridge! This letter has been sent to you because you have been accepted at Werdwall School of Magical Arts. If you choose to attend Werdwall, your classes will begin on Monday, September 2 of this year. Move-in day will be Saturday, August 31. Your schedule is enclosed as well as a list of your necessary supplies.
Sincerely,
Olivia Johnson
Assistant Principal
Werdwall! Tyler finally knew what Werdwall was, and not only that, he was going to go to Werdwall and learn magic! His parents wouldn't be able to hide their magic from him anymore. He couldn't help but grin as he read and reread the letter. It was almost as if he'd licked a Mini Fizzing Wizzbee, judging by the feeling in his stomach. And he'd be able to buy his own magical candy with his allowance now that he would know about magic.
Wait until Alex hears about this, Tyler thought, and then froze. The only reason the two of them knew about Werdwall was because of their parents secretly discussing Alex going there someday. If Alex hadn't been accepted at age nine, like Tyler was, he might not be going at all.
A mixture of guilt and pleasure met Tyler at this thought, which was quickly interrupted by a voice from next door.
"What are you doing over there, Alex?" Mrs. Washington called over the fence.
"Tyler," he corrected politely, hiding the note behind his back. "Not doing anything, just playing." He slid down the slide; the envelope had stopped playing its music, and Tyler snatched it up when he reached the bottom. He ran inside, disregarding the fact that Mrs. Washington was still attempting to have a conversation with him. It was time he learned what this magic business was all about.