Georgia's Greatness (2 page)

"No, I don't think so," Marcia said. "The notes always come rolled up inside the little metal tube attached to the pigeon's leg. And this pigeon
has
one of those tubes on his leg, so that can't be it."

After much fumbling, Durinda's searching fingers produced a waterproof sack that was cinched with a drawstring. The drawstring was not waterproof, so it was dripping.

"Here." Durinda handed it to Georgia. "You open it. I can't take care of the pigeon, hold the sack, and open it and remove whatever is in it all at the same time."

"She's right," Petal said. "I'm pretty sure she would need at least one extra hand to do all of that."

So, still grumping, Georgia took the sack.

"I don't know why I always have to do all the work around here," she grumbled.

We all glared at her. Georgia hardly ever did
any
work, unless it was mischief.

"The drawstring on this sack is dripping all over my socks," Georgia complained.

"Just open it!" Zinnia hurried her along. "I think it must be one of our gifts!"

"Why in the world would you think a stupid thing like ... Hello!" Georgia said, wonder filling her face as she removed a gold object from the sack. The object looked like a compact case, and on the front of it was engraved the name
Georgia.

"What's this?" Georgia asked.

"It's your gift, obviously." Now it was Zinnia's turn to sulk. "I was kind of hoping that the order had been switched around, that somehow it would turn out to be
my
gift."

Jackie put her arm around Zinnia and gave her shoulders a squeeze. Whenever Annie or Durinda didn't take care of us right away, Jackie was good at filling the gap.

"Fine," Georgia said. "So it's my gift." She kept turning it around in her fingers, held it up to the light, squinted at it. "But
what
is it?"

"Haven't you ever seen a compact before?" Rebecca asked. "I'll bet anything there's a mirror inside there." She made a kissy face with her lips. "You're supposed to look in the mirror to check your lipstick and make sure you look bea-u-ti-ful."

"But I don't wear lipstick!" Georgia was clearly annoyed. "Do I
look
like the kind of girl who would have any need for a compact mirror?"

We studied Georgia closely, and we had to admit: she didn't. Really, had she even bothered to comb her hair today?

"I have to say, Georgia," Annie said, "you're probably the only person in the history of the world who has ever looked a gift horse in the mouth."

"It's a gift compact," Georgia said, "and stop talking in clichés. It's trite." She paused and considered. "I'm pretty sure it's hackneyed too." She sighed a heavy sigh. "Just my luck," she said. "I get my gift, and it's not even anything I would ever want. What's next? Will my power be something useless too?"

"I should think you'd be more grateful," Zinnia said with an unusual show of spirit. "At least you got your gift. While some of us are still waiting—"

"Hey! Wait a second!" Annie snapped her fingers. "No matter that you don't like your gift, Georgia—each power and gift we find brings us one step closer to discovering what happened to Mommy and Daddy!"

"But isn't it a bit odd," Jackie said, "Georgia finding her gift at the
beginning
of the month, instead of at the end of it, like what usually happens? Plus, she didn't exactly find it. You could say that
it
found
her.
" Jackie really was puzzled, a rare thing. "It just doesn't make any sense for the gift to arrive now, and like this."

"We never did read the note the pigeon brought," Marcia pointed out.

"Read it!" Petal cried.

"Read it!" Zinnia cried.

So Durinda, still carefully handling the wet pigeon, removed the tiny metal tube from its leg and took out the scroll of paper from the tube.

"Look at Durinda go now," Rebecca said. "It's like she suddenly has three hands."

Durinda ignored Rebecca, which was a habit among us. First, Durinda read whatever was written on the scroll to herself, her lips working while she did.

"Do you think you could read it aloud," Annie asked, "so we can all hear it?"

"It says," Durinda said, "'We're delivering her gift early, because we just can't bear to hear Georgia whine all month.'"

Then Durinda looked down at the pigeon in her hand.

"How," Durinda said, addressing the pigeon, "did you ever fly all the way here from wherever you came from with that sack holding the compact folded under your wing? It can't have been easy flying like that."

The pigeon gazed straight back at Durinda. We couldn't be certain, but it looked as though the pigeon shrugged.

"What kind of note is that?" Georgia demanded. Her face was practically purple with rage. "This is supposed to be
my
month, and yet even the note insults me!"

"But at least you got your gift," Zinnia said, "and you got it early, at that. I wonder, if I were to whine like you do all the time, could I make my gift come early?"

"But this is still all wrong," Jackie said. "The return with the elixir isn't supposed to happen until near the end of the story."

"The return with the
what?
" Rebecca looked peeved. "What are you talking about, Jackie?"

"The return with the
elixir,
" Jackie repeated patiently.

"There are a lot of involved definitions of
elixir,
" Annie said, "but it's basically just a wonderful thing."

"I've been reading a book on screenwriting," Jackie went on, as if Annie hadn't spoken. This was odd; we did that to Rebecca, Georgia too, but never to Annie.

"What's screenwriting?" Petal asked.

"It's writing scripts for movies and things," Annie said. She was clearly miffed at Jackie's snub. "You do all know what movies are, don't you?"

"Anyway," Jackie continued, "the book says that only after the heroine or heroines have gone through their entire adventure, only then does she or they return with the elixir. It's like coming home with a prize. It's the last of twelve stages."

"Then I really don't want this now!" Georgia cried. She took the compact with her name engraved on it and forced it back up under the pigeon's wing.

The pigeon looked startled, as did we all.

"Take it back, you bloody pigeon!" Georgia cried. "I don't want it now if it's not the proper time." Georgia hustled the poor little pigeon out the window—really, we thought, the poor little thing was only doing his job. Georgia yelled after him as he flew away, "And don't come back until the end of the month!" then slammed the window shut.

There, we thought, Georgia had handled
that
well.

A moment of stunned silence followed, then we heard Rebecca tsk-tsk into the void.

"What are you tsk-tsking about now?" Georgia demanded.

"It's just, you know." Rebecca shrugged. "Only you, Georgia."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The beginning of
her
month having been riddled with clichés, Georgia was obviously in no mood for riddles. "Only me, what?"

"She means," Annie said, "that only you would send your gift back to wherever our gifts come from."

"Huh." The anger had disappeared from Georgia's face like a pigeon flying off into the night. She was puzzled. "You mean I wasn't supposed to do that?"

We didn't like to be insulting, but...

"
Duh!
" we all shouted at her.

Once we had stopped shouting, and Georgia had gotten over being shouted at, Marcia spoke.

"You know," she said, "usually whenever one of us discovers her power or gift, there's a new note left in the space behind that loose stone in the wall of the drawing room."

With that in mind, we all trooped off to the drawing room.

"You do the honors," Annie said to Georgia as we stood before the wall. "It was your gift."

"Yeah," Rebecca said, "until she gave it back."

Ignoring Rebecca, Georgia carefully removed the loose stone. Then she reached into the space and pulled out a note. We all crowded around her to read what it said:

Dear Georgia,

This is the part where I'd normally say, "Nice work. Five down, eleven to go." But, sadly, I can't do that this time, can I?

As always, the note was unsigned.

Georgia looked so sad that we couldn't help feeling sorry for her, despite what she'd done.

We watched as Georgia let go of the note; it floated idly down to the floor like a feather on a breeze.

"It's still only the first day of my month," she said glumly, "and already I'm not handling things very well, am I."

We tried to
there, there
her—not just Annie and Durinda and even Jackie, but all of us. But that dark and stormy night, there were not enough
there, there
s in the world to soothe Georgia's upset feelings.

If only Daddy Sparky and Mommy Sally were our real mommy and daddy, we thought as we put Georgia to bed. They could have at least helped us kiss her good night before we turned out the lights.

CHAPTER TWO

The next day, Sunday, passed in silence and misery.

This was all Georgia's fault, of course. She was so sad that she'd blown her big chance to receive her gift early that she spent the whole day moping around the house in her bathrobe and slippers. It didn't help any of our moods that it was still raining so hard. This meant that we couldn't even go outside to play, which at least would have gotten us away from Georgia's endless whining.

"Perhaps a nice cup of tea would cheer you up," Durinda offered Georgia. "Shall I make you a cup of tea? Or coffee?"

"I don't drink tea," Georgia groused from her curled-up position on the sofa. She had placed a hot-water bottle on her head.

"Are you an invalid?" Rebecca asked her, pointing at the hot-water bottle. "Maybe you will die a gruesome death and then we will all have to mourn you." She shrugged. "At least that would leave more frosting for me."

We all knew how much frosting meant to Rebecca.

"None of us drink tea," Georgia said to Durinda, ignoring Rebecca. "Can't you remember that? And only Annie ever drinks coffee."

"The rest of us like juice," Jackie said.

"Mango, if we can get it," Zinnia added.

"I do believe Georgia is starting to look genuinely sick," Marcia observed.

"That may be," Annie said, "but it's no reason for her to snap at Durinda so. She was only trying to help. Besides, if Georgia's not careful, Durinda might get angry and then tap her leg three times, point at Georgia, and make her freeze."

"Do you think we could get Durinda to do that even if she's not angry?" Rebecca asked hopefully.

"This rain worries me," Petal said, looking out the window.

"Why?" Annie asked. "At least it's made the last of the snow wash away."

"Yes," Petal said. "But it just keeps going on and on. It's not natural! Do you think it will rain for forty days and forty nights, and we will have to build an ark to sail away in before we all drown?"

"No," Rebecca said firmly. Then she got a teasing gleam in her eye. "It might rain for thirty-nine days and thirty-nine nights, but it will surely stop before it gets to forty."