No Stick

Tara sensed something. It was close. She could feel the energy waking her from her slumber. She slowly opened her eyes to see the tiny fist of her brother clutching what appeared to be a stick. But it wasn’t exactly a stick.

“What this?” his three year old voice squeaked.

“I don’t know. A stick. Go away. I need my sleep.” Tara responded as she pulled the covers back over her head.  She was still. Hoping that Ian would go away so she could go back to sleep. Ian wasn’t moving. Ian wasn’t leaving. Ugh! Didn’t he understand that being 8 years old she had a lot of responsibility?! He would find out once he got to elementary school…oh…all the homework! “OH TO BE THREE AGAIN!” she thought.

Tara waited.

Ian waited.

“WHAT?!” she exploded from the covers to see Ian still standing in the same pose from 5 minutes ago

“What this? No stick. What this?” he asks stretching out his arm into the face of his older sister.

She snatched it out of his hands and she immediately felt a sharp pinch and a quick sting like a bee. Tara instinctively threw it across her bedroom and looked at her hand for some sort of bite mark. There was nothing. In fact, the pain subsided as soon as this strange thing left her hand.

Ian ran towards the stick. “Ian! NO!” she dashed over but it he had already picked it up. Tara squished up her face…wincing…waiting for Ian to let out a yelp of pain. Nothing. He held it with no pain.

He turned and faced her with his hand outstretched towards Tara…clutching the stick with his fist.

“No stick. What this?”

Tara backed away in fear “Don’t touch me with that! You’re right. It isn’t a stick. Sticks don’t sting people!” She looked under her bed and pulled out a shoe box. She pulled out a pair of torn up Chuck Taylors (her favorite shoes) and put them safely back under her bed. Bringing the box to Ian “put it in the shoe box to keep it safe.” 

“Keep you safe?” Ian asked.

“Yes”, Tara laughed “Keep me safe.”

“BREAKFAST IS READY!! Where are my hungry hippos!!” their mom’s voice bellowed from the kitchen downstairs.

“BE RIGHT DOWN!” Tara replied.

Tara leaned in close to Ian and whispers “Don’t tell mom and dad about the stick”

“No stick”

“Okay, don’t tell mom and dad about the no stick. “ she laughed as she slid the box under her bed.

Tara and Ian ran downstairs and joined their parents at the table. “WAFFLES!!!” both Ian and Tara squealed in unison. Tara helped her brother up onto the booster seat and she sat next to him on the bench seat of the retro 1950’s diner bench their dad picked up at a flea market in the next town over. Tara loved the neon pink color of the bench. Even with the sliver duck tape hiding ancient rips, she thought it was beautiful.

“Waffles indeed!” dad exclaimed, “and fresh strawberries and blueberries for my growing children!”

“OOOOH! Fresh berries!” Tara cooed. “How?!” she asked knowing that this was an expense they often couldn’t afford.

“Your father sold that boat engine to Bear so we had a little extra! Enjoy the berries…who wants whipped cream!?” asked mom.

“ME!” Tara and Ian replied.

When breakfast was finished, Tara cleared the table and did the dishes. Her dad took care of cleaning the waffle maker because sometimes getting all the batter out of all the squares was too difficult for an 8 year old. Ian asked to help so they gave him the broom, that was two times taller than him, and he, with mom’s help, swept the floor. 

“Does anyone want to help with the chickens?” mom asked.

“No stick. What that?” Ian giggled  

Tara shot him a death glare.

“You sure are a silly boy, Ian” mom said as she scooped him up.

Ian pointed over mom’s shoulder towards the stairs leading up to their bedroom. “No stick” he whispered loudly to Tara.

Tara turned to see the “no stick” dancing in the air. Her eyes widened. It started to float towards Ian. Tara started to panic when Ian opened his fist and he grabbed it.

As mom walked out the door with Ian, she looked at him and said “where’d you get that stick Ian?”

“No stick mama.” Ian whispered…knowing Tara would be mad at him for telling mom.

 Mom looked closely to what Ian was holding in his hand,“Ahhh! Well of course not silly. That’s your magic wand! Where did you find it?! Tara! Have you seen this!?

Tara replying slowly with skepticism “Yes mom…it stung me when I held it this morning. It’s a magic wand? Magic wands aren’t real.”

“What a silly thing to say!” mom said. “You used to play with yours all the time…don’t you remember? I had to put it away for you for safe keeping because you put Bear’s cat up a tree.”

Tara looks at her mother as if she is a lunatic.

“Will…Will!” mom yelled to their father.

“Yes Heather?” he replied as he walked into the room “what’s all the hub bub…bub” he giggled as if he made the funniest joke in the world and then stops suddenly as he sees what Ian is clutching “Oooooh! The magic wand! It has arrived!! Finally!”

Dad changed his tone and asks mom “Oh. He didn’t put Bear’s cat in a tree did he?”

“No” mom replies. “but maybe we should put Ian’s away for safe keeping until he is old enough to use it.”

“Where. Is. MY. WAND?!” Tara says in a huff.

Silence overtakes the room.

 Mom sets Ian down and he immediately runs outside. She walks over to Tara and stares into her eyes, “Who on earth do you think you are talking to in that tone young lady?”

“where is my wand, please?” Tara says sheepishly.

“That’s better.” Mom holds her hand up high above her head and with a flash, she is holding a pink pencil that has glitter all over it. “This is your wand.”

Tara holds out her hand as if she is going to accept it from her mother but backs up a little bit. “Is it going to sting me? When I picked up Ian’s stick…errr…wand, it I felt like it stung me.” 

“Go ahead…it won’t bite you,” mom replied. “It will bite Ian, so don’t give it to him,” she laughed. “That’s how you know it’s yours…it won’t bite you. When you have children, their wands won’t bite you, so you can keep them safe.”

“Why does mine look like a pink pencil and Ian’s looks like a stick?” Tara asked, inspecting her wand closely.

“Yours resembled a stick at first as well. It morphed as your personality changed even though it was kept away from you. It will keep changing as you grow older but they all start out as sticks.”

“Do you and dad have wands? 

“We do. Your dad’s looks like a spatula, because he likes to cook. Mine looks like an antique hair brush because my grandmother had one just like it and I thought it was beautiful.”

“But…” Tara whispered.

“Tara, why do you look confused?” dad asked.

“But…if you have magic wands…” looking at the tattered area rug on the kitchen floor “why are we poor?”

“Oh sweetie…we aren’t poor…” dad leaned down close to Tara. “We have love and we are healthy. We don’t need fancy new things”

“I could use a new dishwasher!” mom chimed in laughing.

“Heather….we have the best dishwasher right here!” dad laughs and pats Tara on the head.

Tara rolls her eyes and smiles as dad continues “We have a tattered rug because it still has fibers on which to stand. It’s good to keep things as long as you can so that we don’t hurt Mother Nature by loading up landfills. We have a beautiful pink bench seat repaired with duck tape that still has bounce to it and the springs don’t boop your bum yet. Should we get rid of it for an expensive, fancy dining set?”

“Oh nooooo! It’s beautiful! It’s my favorite color! Please don’t get rid of it!” Tara pleads.

“We won’t sweetie.” Dad replied.

“Sure, we could wave this wand and live in a mansion high on a hill…but that would be pretty lonely don’t you think?” mom said.

“With my wand I could make my own friends!” Tara laughed.

“Friendship that isn’t earned isn’t a very good friendship.” Mom says.

All of a sudden there is a knock on the door. It’s Bear holding Ian’s hand “uhhh..speaking of friendship.” Bear says “I caught this little one sitting under my pine tree. I’m gonna need your help. Fluffy is at the top.”

“Ian!” mom and dad yell in unison.

“I guess we are going to have to put THIS away for a few years.” Mom says as she takes the wand from Ian.

Alright Tara” dad says “It’s time you learn how to use your wand. Let’s get Fluffy out of that tree!”

End.