Into the Wild(15)

Goldie drew herself taller. “You stupid girl! You idiotic—” Her hands curled into fists, and her arms shook.

“You wished in the well?” Cindy said.

“No!” Julie said. “But I wished out loud . . .” Again, she saw the look on Mom’s face. Julie’s throat clogged. She couldn’t repeat what she’d said.

“Oh, sweetie, that couldn’t have done it,” Cindy said. “Only a wish in the well could do this. While Gothel was at your house last night, someone had to have snuck in to the well and wished for the Wild to be at the motel, free and strong. It was not your fault. You couldn’t have caused this.”

Cindy was right—Julie hadn’t been near the well, and she didn’t have any magic powers. But that didn’t make her feel any better. Julie flinched as a camera flashed in her eyes. The flash failed to illuminate the shadows of the Wild. Dark and silent, the woods towered over the crowd. Someone had wished for the Wild to escape and grow. Someone had caused this to happen to Mom and Grandma. Who would do that? “But . . . but . . . who? Why?”

Cindy wrung her hands. “We don’t know!”

“I hope the Wild caught them,” Goldie said. “I hope it makes them dance to death in iron shoes. Again and again. Or burn in their own oven. Or plummet from a cliff . . .”

The pavement trembled under them, and Julie heard a crunch as a length of sidewalk split under the pressure of the green. New tendrils shot across the yellow police tape. “Someone has to do something,” Julie said.

“Run,” Goldie suggested.

“Someone has to stop it. Someone has to save them.” She scanned the crowd. People were scattering like chickens, running in frantic circles. “The police . . .”

“. . . have no idea what they’re dealing with,” Goldie said scornfully. “You could nuke it, and it would transform the nuke. The police can’t stop it.”

“Someone who knows the Wild, then. One of the heroes,” Julie said. “Or a magician. Or a fairy.” She latched onto Cindy. “You have a fairy godmother. Call her!” Cindy began to shake her head sadly. “Fairy godmother!” Julie shouted. “Please, fairy godmother! I need you! Fairy godmother!”

Pop.

Smoke puffed in front of them, and Julie sneezed. She opened her eyes to see a plump woman in a bathing suit and butterfly wings standing in front of her. All the TV cameras swung toward them. The fairy lowered her sunglasses on her nose. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, “it has been an age. Don’t you know I’m retired? I don’t do balls anymore.”

“Please,” Julie said. Her throat stuck. Her face felt hot. She couldn’t talk. Her mother . . . Mom was in the Wild.

“Can you take her to safety?” Cindy asked the fairy.

The fairy saw the forest, and she blanched. “Oh, oh! How terrible! This was such a nice country!” Her wings fluttered agitatedly, and she rose up onto her toes. “How did this happen?”

“Stupid well,” Goldie said. “We should have buried it in cement. We should’ve hidden it behind barbed wire and laser sensors—”

“The child,” Cindy reminded the fairy.

Instantly, the fairy godmother smiled, falsely bright, at Julie. “Don’t worry, my dear. We can be in Florida in an eyeblink. Or maybe Europe. Yes, you’ll be safe from the Wild there, for a time. Oh, who could have done such a thing? Who would want the Wild to come back?”

“No, no,” Julie wailed. “You have to stop it! You have to save my mother! Wave your wand and fix it!” She waved her hands at the towering trees.

“Me? Oh, no, dear. I can’t stop the Wild from the outside. No one can. Just like no one could destroy the wishing well. Or even change your mother’s hair color. It can’t be done.”

Why didn’t they want to help her? This was her mother, their friend! What was wrong with them? “Then go inside!”

All three of them seemed shocked. “Oh, I couldn’t,” the fairy godmother said. “Are you crazy?” Goldie shrieked. “We have to keep people out!” “Oh, sweetie,” Cindy said, “you don’t understand. If we went in there, we’d be back in the stories.”

“You can’t resist it,” the fairy godmother said. “If you find a bear’s house, you must eat their porridge. If you go to a ball, you must lose a slipper. It would be worse for us: we have roles. The Wild knows which set of events would suit us best, and it would ensure we found them. It would catch us quickly.”