Powers to Me

Amy straightened her round glasses, brushed her overgrown strawberry-blond bangs out of her green eyes, and bent down to peer into the bottom left cabinet in her parents’ library.  It was black and stormy outside--had been all weekend, and she wanted to spend the day reading.  Since she had already finished all her homework (she was perhaps the only fifth grade student who felt she didn’t receive enough take-home assignments), she hoped she could find a book worthy of her time.  She then knelt on the floor and put her head all the way in the dark square cave.   There, she discovered a large work of fiction, housed in a hard navy blue cover, shoved in behind the others.  She pulled out the dusty The Canterbury Tales, struggling to avoid contact with an old spider web as she did so.  When she opened the cover, she discovered that a square area, about 100 pages deep, had been roughly carved out.  It looked like someone or something had attacked it with one of those “keychain knives.”  At first, Amy just found it strange and annoying.  Then a memory, a quick glimpse of a page in her most recently finished book zipped across her brain’s synapses. “Oh my gosh!” Amy thought, “this is it--the sign.  My time has come!”

Amy stood up quickly and spun toward the door.  She could not believe what was happening.  The poem from the latest Warren Wizard book was echoing in her head.  She had read the entire series thus far and was a believer in the powers of old, the magic that powered the times of castles, knights and dark, evil creatures.  She couldn’t wait for the next addition to the collection.  She remembered two lines distinctly:

“When skies are dark for days on end and curiosity has set in, you’ll see feathers floating ’round your home, and it’s time to think again.  You’ll find a book from times ago, with many pages cut and torn.  Your world will change.  Your life—anew.  A Wizard will be born.”  

Amy looked outside at the dark, angry skies.  Not only had it been rainy and gloomy for days, the petals on the flowering spring trees had been pushed from their homes, in a flurry, by the swirling wind—like feathers!  And now the book!  It was an old book, filled with ancient stories, definitely a “book from times ago.”

“My chance for mystic powers has arrived.”

Amy ran through the doorway into the kitchen, thinking of the poem’s mighty words.  It spoke of items to be possessed and actions to be taken when the moment arrived.  She had to hurry.  She needed to grab a wooden spoon, a yard-long stick, and a garment of blue.  She required yellow spice, sweet syrup and peppers—had to mash them in a white bowl.  No time!  Amy grabbed the food items and spoon.  She then ran upstairs and found her favorite blue dress.  She jumped into it, jamming it over her jeans and t-shirt.  Amy then looked in the mirror, and took a deep breath.  “No reason to worry,” she thought, “this is going to be the start of a whole new Amy.  I’m going to become the prettiest girl in school.  I’ll be the first one chosen for dodge-ball teams.  And with my new powers, all the boys will think I’m the coolest.  I’ll be able to rescue kittens stranded in trees.  I’ll be able to do my chores—presto!  And I’ll be able to stop my goofy younger brother from acting like a freak and playing practical jokes on me.  Yes.  It’s my time now.”

She ran down the carpeted stairs, yanked open the front door and burst into the front yard, taking on the pouring rain and blustery wind.  She needed to find the yard-long stick now.  The oak tree…yes, branches must have been knocked down in the storm.  Amy reached the tree and found just the branch she needed—more than three feet long for sure.  She then moved to middle of the yard, held her spoon, stick and peppery mix up to the skies and yelled, “Bring the powers to me!  Bring them to me!  Amy!”  

She stood there repeating her chant, hair and dress soaking, yet whipping wildly in the wind—slapping and stinging her face and arms.  She didn’t care.  This was the time.  It was worth it.  Her eyes remained closed as she imagined what she could now be.  She began spinning in circles, around and around and around.  Yes, this was definitely going to work. Just needed to wait a bit more…she could feel it starting.

“Amy, what are you doing?  Get inside!  You’re going to get hit by lighting,” her mother screamed from the front door she had just frantically opened.  

Amy stood still, didn’t even hear her mother’s words.  Her mom then grabbed a long yellow jacket and ran out and grabbed her daughter--pulled her with all her force back into the house.

“Mom, you don’t understand.  I was gaining the mighty powers of a Wizard.  They were shooting through me.  I felt them.  Now you may have ruined my chances!”

Amy’s mom shook her head, helped her daughter out of her sopping outfit and wrapped her in towels.  Amy always had a vivid imagination, that’s for sure.  Now to deal with her other challenging child…  

Amy went to her room and changed into a warm, red, fuzzy sweat suit.  “Oh well,” she thought, “I probably have the powers, just can’t feel them yet.”  She smiled and walked downstairs, where her mother had fixed her a cup of hot chocolate.  She sat at the table, still dreaming of how she was now Wizard Amy…

She then heard her mother yelling at her brother upstairs.  She ignored it at first, then silently crawled up the red carpeted stairs and took a position outside his bedroom, ear-to-door. 

“Jeffrey, I’ve had quite enough of your mischief.  What are you doing in here?  Why?  And look at the mess you’ve made!  Don’t you respect the property of others?”

Amy thought, “Oh, no, what has he done this time?”  He was always in trouble.   She tried to look through the small keyhole-nothing.  She looked under the door, and still saw nothing.  She finally opened the door a crack and saw her mother throwing her arms about wildly and lecturing her brother.  She was repeatedly pointing at a white rectangular tower that was at least two feet high.  Amy wondered what the construction could be. 

“Jeffrey, you’re grounded for a week!  What were you thinking, chopping up books in our library to build a diving platform for your space monsters!  How many books have you ruined, in addition to The Canterbury Tales?  What else have you destroyed in this house?”

Amy closed the door with a sigh.  “Oh well,” she thought, that’s okay.  I’ll just wait for my next Warren Wizard book for more power clues.  I know that becoming a Wizard is my true destiny.

She then walked downstairs and into the library again to find a book to guide her through this rainy day.