The Fairy-Tale Matchmaker (4 page)

“Here we are!” Daisy sang out as she rounded the corner of the house. “Just put the boxes in the cart and we'll be on our way.”

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Cory told her as she arranged the boxes on the wooden floor. “You're a very big help. I asked Walker to help, but he said he's got a meeting tonight.”

Daisy snorted, then covered her mouth with her hand. “That Walker is a busy boy.”

“He said he has a meeting tomorrow night, too,” Cory said as they started down the path that led between the houses.

“I just bet he does,” said Daisy. “Did you tell him that you quit?”

“I did, but he wasn't very supportive. He agreed with Mother that I shouldn't have done it.”

“Pfft!” Daisy said. “That shows what he knows! Cory, there's something I should tell you about Walker …”

“Oh, no!” Cory cried. “Not again! Noodles has one of Mother's good shoes!” She pointed at the window where the woodchuck was peeking out at them with a dainty pink slipper dangling from his mouth. “Can you take this around back?” she asked, relinquishing the handle of the cart to her friend. She didn't stay to hear Daisy's reply, but ran to the front door and darted into the house. The woodchuck had a guilty look on his face when he dropped the slipper onto her hand. It was slobbery, but she didn't see any tooth marks on it.

“Mother must have left the door to her bedroom open,” she told Daisy, who was carrying in the boxes. “Noodles doesn't like Mother and chews up her things every chance he gets.” She bent down to scratch Noodles between his ears and smiled when he made a soft chirring sound. Glancing up at Daisy, Cory added, “Most of the stuff I need is in my bedroom.”

The pudgy woodchuck waddled down the hall behind Cory and plopped down on his bed when they reached her room. He watched through half-closed eyes while Cory took armloads of clothes off the shelves lining one wall. Daisy helped her pack them into boxes, then waited while Cory collected the woodchuck's toys. When Cory shooed Noodles off the fluffy pillow he used for a
bed, she picked it up and spotted a ragged hole in the carpet.

“Oh, dear, I forgot about that,” she said. “Here, help me move the flower rug. Mother's mad enough at me as it is. She'd be even madder if she saw this.”

“Did Noodles do that?” asked Daisy as she helped drag a small rug shaped like a delphinium blossom over the hole.

Cory nodded. “He chews everything if he doesn't have his toys. Let's put these in the cart. Then I need to write my mother a note. I don't want to argue with her, but I don't want her to worry, either.”

While Daisy carried the rest of the boxes outside, Cory went into the main room to get a leaf from her mother's desk. She already knew what she was going to say.

She was laying the leaf on the desk when she heard a
ping!
Turning to the woven reed basket, she saw an envelope appear bearing the red flying-tooth insignia.
Her name stood out below the insignia in thick red letters. A stack of envelopes sat beside the basket; the one on the top bore her name in red as well.

“Those are probably all for me,” she muttered. “I don't need to read them to know what they say. Let's go, Noodles,” she said to the woodchuck, who was sitting on her foot. “We've spent too much time here already.”

Cory was eating breakfast with her uncle the next morning when he handed her
The Fey Express
opened to the help-wanted ads. “I thought you might want to look through these. An idle fairy is an unhappy fairy.”

“I thought I'd take a day to rest before I started looking for a job,” Cory said, holding the paper as if it might bite.

“You already did,” said Micah. “Yesterday. Today is the day you start looking. I glanced through it before you got out of bed. There are a few in there that I thought you might find interesting. You don't have to decide on a new career right away, but you should have a job while you decide what it is you really want to do.
Unless you've already decided?” he added, raising one eyebrow.

Cory shook her head. “I have no idea what I should do. All I know is what I
don't
want to do.”

“Then maybe one of these will inspire you. Take a look. It can't hurt.” He glanced down at the woodchuck sleeping on his foot. “Pardon me, Noodles, but I have to get ready for work.”

“He likes you,” Cory said as the drowsy woodchuck rolled off Micah's foot and went back to sleep.

“Most animals do,” her uncle replied. He pushed his mushroom-shaped stool back from the table. “Good luck with the job hunt. Oh, before I forget, here are some leaves and an ink stick. You might want to make a list.”

“Thanks,” Cory said, not very sincerely. She sighed as she moved her nearly finished bowl of mashed berries and cooked oats out of the way. Glancing at the front page, she noticed an article about Santa Claus. He had been speaking at the Looking Forward to Christmas Conference and the paparazzi had mobbed the hotel where the conference was being held. A picture showed the old elf looking angry and upset as a crowd of satyrs and dwarves surrounded him, shoving Mrs. Claus and his assistant elves aside.

“Poor Santa,” Cory murmured. “He never gets a moment's peace.”

Turning the paper over, she studied the help-wanted ads. The first ad to catch her eye read:

“I bet they're looking for an assistant egg dyer,” she told Noodles, even though he was still asleep. “I knew a girl in Junior Fey School who did that after she graduated. It's a seasonal job, so it doesn't last long. From what I heard, she went from one seasonal job to another. I'd rather find something that would last more than a few weeks. Wait. What's this? It looks interesting.”

“I wonder what they want me to do,” she said. “What do you say, Noodles? Should we find out?” She glanced
down at the woodchuck, who was now sleeping on his back with his paws in the air. Grunting in his sleep, he waved one paw.

“You think so, too, huh?” said Cory. “Then let's do it!”

Taking one of the leaves her uncle had given her, she wrote,
Who are you?
After addressing it to Fuzz for Life, she set it in the woven reed basket on the shelf by the door. It vanished, and less than a minute later a nice crisp envelope appeared. Inside was a leaf bearing the words The Belly Button Lint Guild.

“Ugh!” said Cory. “Forget that! Collecting belly button lint would be worse than collecting teeth.” After throwing the leaf into the trash, she made a big, dark X through the ad.

“All right,” she said, sitting back on her mushroom stool. “What else is there?” Running her eyes down the column, she noticed that most of the jobs required that she show up in person. “At least the weather is good,” she muttered, and reached for a clean leaf to start her list. After reading them all, only three jobs interested her. She copied them down word for word on her leaf, and decided to go to the closest one first. Wall Road was at the edge of town. If she flew, it should take her just a few minutes to get there.

The leaf was light enough that she could shrink it
and take it with her. She read the first ad over again as she flew.

Cory didn't really want to lift heavy weights, but the job sounded intriguing and she wanted to see what it involved.

Wall Road was a pretty little street with only a few houses, all on the same side of the road. A high stone wall ran along the other side, with a rolling, clover-filled meadow just beyond it. Sweet-faced cows grazed in the meadow, nibbling the clover and drinking from the sparkling stream that ran from one end of the meadow to the other.

One hundred Wall Road was the last house on the street. It was a cream-colored, squat little house with bowed walls and an oval door. Wisteria vines covered the house, dripping fragrant purple clusters of blossoms down its sides. The scent was intoxicating when Cory was tiny, but became more muted when she returned to her human size.

After checking the address one last time, Cory
knocked on the door. Nearly a minute went by before a short, egg-shaped woman answered. Her skin was pale, but she wore so much makeup that she didn't look real. Big, round circles of red colored her cheeks and the swipes of bright blue on her eyelids matched her eyes. Some of her red lipstick had come off on her small, baby-size teeth.

“Are you here about the ad?” she asked, sounding hopeful. When Cory nodded, the woman's smile grew so wide that her face seemed to split in two. “Marvelous! Then come right in. I'm Doris Dumpty and my son's name is Humpty. He's in his bedroom. I'll have him come meet you.” Turning halfway around, the woman shouted, “Humpty! Your new babysitter is here!”

“Babysitter?” said Cory as she followed the woman down a short hallway. “I didn't know that was what you wanted.”

“But the ad was perfectly clear,” the woman said, leading the way into the brightest room Cory had ever seen. Everything was yellow, from the furniture to the rugs to the paint on the walls and ceiling. Even the doorknobs were yellow. “I need someone to watch Humpty while I go visit my ailing mother. Her mind is a bit scrambled lately. If I don't go see her, she'll hatch a new plan to escape from the nursing home and get lost again.”

“But I don't think I …,” Cory began.

“Oh, good! Here's my beautiful boy!” Mrs. Dumpty said as a boy skipped into the room, gave her a quick look, and climbed on one of the overstuffed chairs, taking a seat on the back. The shorts and T-shirt he was wearing showed off the bandage on one of his spindly legs and scars on his thin little arms. Narrow at the hips and shoulders, he was wide around the middle and his skin was even paler than his mother's. Cory couldn't help but think that he looked like an egg wearing clothes with another egg balanced on top for a head.

Doris Dumpty sighed. “Humpty! How many times have I told you not to climb on the furniture? Sit on the seat, please!”

Humpty scowled as he slid down the back of the chair, but his scowl disappeared when he looked up at Cory. “Do you like to climb?” he asked.

“That depends on what we're climbing,” she replied.

“No climbing!” his mother said as the boy squirmed off the chair. “I'll be gone for only a few hours, but he is not allowed to climb, no matter what he says. My little Humpty is a fragile boy and gets hurt easily. Here's a list of emergency numbers,” she said, handing a leaf to Cory. “My husband, RJ, is the first one you should call if there's ever a real emergency. Now be good, Humpty. Listen to Miss … What is your name?”

“Cory. Don't you want to—”

“Be a good boy, Humpty, and listen to Cory. Mother loves you,” she said, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

“But, Mrs. Dumpty, you don't know …”

“I'm sure you two will be just fine. Good-bye, my little darling,” she said, twiddling her fingers at her son even as she hurried to the door.

The moment the door closed behind his mother, Humpty took hold of Cory's hand and pulled her toward the hallway. “Let's go outside. We can play hide-and-seek. You're it!” he cried as they stepped onto the grass. “Face the wall and count to five billion.”

“I don't think this is a good idea,” said Cory as he turned her toward the house. He let go of her hand and scampered off, but instead of counting she turned back to protest. The boy was already gone. “Humpty! Where are you?” she called. She heard giggling, but she couldn't tell where it came from, so she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Humpty, I'm not playing this game!” The only reply was another rash of giggling.

“He's close enough that I can still hear him, and he likes to climb,” Cory muttered to herself and began to look in the trees. She started with the trees closest to the house, then searched the ones by the road. When she couldn't find him from the ground, she became tiny and flew into the trees, inspecting them more closely.
She finally found him hidden behind a leafy branch, high in an old oak tree.

“Gotcha!” she said, tapping him lightly.

“You're a fairy!” said Humpty. “I've never had a fairy babysitter before. Hey, didn't you say you weren't going to play this game?”

“I did indeed. And didn't your mother tell you to listen to me?”

Humpty nodded. “I always listen to my babysitters. That's how I know where you are when you're looking for me.”

“How many babysitters have you had?” asked Cory.

Humpty shrugged. “A new one every week. Nobody ever wants to come back.”

“Uh-huh,” said Cory, wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

“Want to race?” Humpty asked her. Before she could answer, he was running across the street as fast as his spindly legs could carry him.

“Humpty, no!” Cory cried as he started to climb the wall that bordered the road. Although he didn't look very strong, the little boy was fast and he'd reached the top before Cory was halfway there. Turning small again, she darted to the top and became big as soon as she landed. “Your mother said that you weren't supposed to climb!” she said, peering at the ground, which seemed far away.

“I know,” said Humpty. “It's quiet up here and I like to watch the cows. I wish I could fly, but I don't have wings like you.”