Pretty Shoes

“These are my pretty shoes.”

“Ooh, they are very pretty.”

“No,” said Juliet, frowning seriously at Eliza, her babysitter. “They make me pretty.”

Eliza heard Juliet’s mom stifle a laugh from the kitchen a few feet away, but Eliza remained composed and matched Juliet’s seriousness. “Oh, yeah? Are they magic?”

“Yes.”

Eliza struggled to keep the smile off her face. Instead she tilted her head and said, “But, Juliet, don’t you think you’re already pretty?”

“No,” Juliet said. “But watch.”

She put on the shoes. They were glittery pink flats with a strap across the top that secured with Velcro but looked like a pull-through strap. She stood up, closed her eyes and spun on one foot.

When Juliet opened her eyes, she stood taller, her chin was lifted, and an I-told-you-so smile danced around the corners of her eyes and mouth. She gracefully flipped her hair over her shoulder with a hand and then shook her head like a model.

“See?” she said.

“Wow,” Eliza said, looking her over and then covering her eyes. “It is magic! You’re—so pretty—I can’t—look at you.”

Juliet giggled and after several attempts to pry Eliza’s arms down with growing hilarity, Juliet finally told her she toned it down and now Eliza could look. Eliza looked at her in wonder and then said, “Can I try them on?”

“No!” Juliet shrieked with laughter. “You’re a grown up! They won’t fit you!”

“Hey,” Eliza put hands on hips, “I’m sixteen. I’m not a grown up yet.”

Juliet stuck her tongue out. “Well you’re not ten like me.”

Eliza sighed loudly. “Fine, keep your prettiness. C’mon let’s go to the park.”

Juliet squealed and ran out the door. “Bye mom!”

“Bye Julie! Thanks Eliza!”

Juliet ran up to Eliza crying, holding her shoe. The strap had broken most of the way off and was dangling by sparse thread.

“Oh, no,” said Eliza. Juliet had tears and snot coming out full force.

“They told me—” Juliet gasped between sobs, “I wasn’t pretty and—and I thought they were lying—but then,” she let out a wail and held up the shoe again. “I don’t know when it happened.”

“Hey,” Eliza said, brushing Juliet’s hair out of her face. “Hey, come on now.” When Juliet did not calm down, Eliza gave a dramatic gasp and said, “I think I have some magic thread in my car.”

Juliet looked out at her from dirty blond hair and red eyes, suddenly silent. “Really?”

Eliza nodded.

“You’re sure it’s magic?”

Eliza leaned in and said, “How about you see for yourself?”

Taking her hand, Eliza led Juliet back to the beige sedan and opened the trunk. “My mom made me an emergency kit when they got me the car. She’s totally crazy for prepper stuff. Look, why did she pack three coats? How cold does she think it’s going to be?”

“Why did she pack you three coats?”

“Because she’s crazy.” Eliza turned the car organizer sideways, dumping half the contents and digging through it. “No, she probably feels guilty she bought me a beater. But she says it’s because she’s worried I’m going to be stuck somewhere in winter and she wants me to have extra clothes just in case. And extra extra clothes in case someone else is with me.”

“Like me?”

“Like you. Aha!”

Eliza held up a small black case like it was a prize in a video game. Juliet sniffed. “What’s that?”

“A sowing kit.”

“Why do you have a sowing kit?”

“For attire emergencies.”

“Oh. My mom keeps a jack and a spare.”

“Not tire, attire. Clothes. Now come here.” Eliza unzipped the case and looked over the threads. She smiled. “I knew I had a magic thread in here. Look. Can you tell which one it is?” She held out the kit to Juliet, who inspected it with pout still in place.

Juliet looked over each of the colored threads before she pointed to a tiny spool of glittery silver. “Is it this one?”

Eliza’s smile widened. “Spot on, Julie. You’ve really got an eye for magic, don’t you?”

Julie nodded sagely.

Sitting on the lip of the trunk, Eliza pulled thread through needle and carefully stitched the strap back on. Neither girl talked while she worked. Magic required concentration. Juliet watched with intense quiet and Eliza performed each stitch like it was the most important one, as if slowly working the magic back in.

When she finished, forehead sweaty from the beating sun, she tied it off neatly and cut the excess. She presented Juliet with the fixed shoe. Juliet took it in both hands and turned it over and around before examining the stitching itself.

She cupped it to her chest and looked at Eliza.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. Eliza felt her heart tug and her nose tickle.

Juliet slipped the shoe back on and stood, spinning before standing still with her arms out.

Then she spun back around, beaming, shining from head to toe, eyes glowing. “It works!”

She flung her arms around Eliza, who laughed and patted her on the shoulder, rolling her eyes behind Juliet’s head but smiling all the same.

Juliet pulled back and, brow furrowing up, said, “I didn’t know you were a witch.”

Eliza laughed at that the whole rest of the day, still giggling softly when she crawled into bed.

The shoes somehow made it through being muddied, through scuffs and bumps, through use in sunshine and rain, through a change of soles, but a slow, inexorable creeping was about to make them unwearable: Juliet’s feet were growing.

“Baby, I don’t think they fit anymore.”

“They do.”

“Julie—”

“They fit!” Juliet managed to shove her heel into the back wall. “See!”

Her mother pressed her lips together. “I don’t want you to get blisters.”

“I won’t!”

“Sweetie—”

“Mom!” Juliet shrieked. She glared. Mom stared back, lips still pursed, before she sighed. “Fine. I know how important this is, so you can wear your pretty shoes one last time. But,” she held up a finger. “After this, they go in the goodwill box.”

Juliet’s bottom lip stuck up and she said nothing. Mom left her to wrestle the other shoe on.

The pink shoes went perfectly with her dress, black with pink trim and a pink polka dot ribbon around the middle. It was her end of year elementary school dance. Juliet couldn’t not wear them.

But when Juliet got them shoved on, she sat on the ground and stared at them, biting her lip so she wouldn’t tear up.

Mom felt a touch on her elbow and turned to see Juliet standing there, looking small. Mom put her purse down and bent. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we go see Eliza?”

“Eliza? Why?”

Juliet blinked and swallowed and looked to the side. “Just ‘cause.”

Mom rubbed Juliet’s arms and held her hands. Juliet’s lips worried. “Is it something I can do?”

Juliet shook her head.

“Well, Eliza actually has her own prom tonight. She’s probably busy getting all prettied up. You know,” mom teased. “The normal way. We don’t all have magic shoes.”

“Eliza doesn’t need to get prettied up the normal way,” Juliet said sadly, looking at her shoes.

Mom frowned. She cupped Juliet’s face in both her hands and gently pulled her face so they were eye to eye. “Juliet, you don’t need to get pretty the normal way either. Or with the shoes. You’re pretty all the time.”

Juliet’s eyes welled up and she shook her head. She leaned forward and Mom wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her hard. “Baby, why do you think you’re not pretty?” Mom wanted to say there was more important things anyway, but she knew, she understood, how important it could be to feel pretty, even if it wasn’t supposed to matter.

“Because when I put them on,” Juliet whispered, “That first time in the store, the lady said I looked so pretty and you said—you said I’d never looked so pretty before. You said they were magic.”

Mom stopped patting Juliet’s back. “I said that?”

Juliet nodded.

Mom pulled back, taking Juliet by the shoulders and squeezing. “Baby, I was just—I just said that. They are beautiful, and you do look beautiful when you wear them, but it’s not—baby, it’s not magic.”

“Yes, it is.”

Mom could strangle herself. “Baby, you’re the beautiful one, not the shoes.”

“It IS the shoes!” Juliet stomped her foot. The tears came. “I can feel it when I wear them! And I want Eliza so she can make them bigger because she’s a witch!”

Mom bit her tongue. She opened her mouth to say—something—when her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and then did a double take. She picked it up and answered.

“Who is it?” Juliet asked sulkily.

“Eliza?” Mom answered. Juliet perked up.

Eliza said something on the other end Juliet couldn’t hear. Mom’s expression turned worried. “Are you okay? Are you somewhere safe?”

Juliet’s eyes went wide.

“Of course!” Mom said. “We were just about to leave. Send me your location—I’ll be right there. Hang tight.” She hung up.

“Mom? Is Eliza okay?”

“She’s fine,” Mom said, gathering up her purse. “But her car broke down. She needs a ride.”

“So,” Juliet said, slowly standing taller. “We’re going to see Eliza?”

“Yes,” Mom said, then she paused, keys in hand. “I don’t think she’ll be able to work the magic you want.”

“She will,” Juliet said. She ran to her room.

“Where are you going?” Mom called. “We need to go!”

“I’m just getting socks!”

Mom frowned. “Your shoes don’t fit with socks anymore!”

“They will!”

Mom went to put her face in her hand and nearly keyed her eye out.

“Eliza! Eliza!” Juliet jumped out of the car and ran to slam Eliza in a hug. “Are you okay? What happened? Did your car break down? I love your dress! Why does this coat smell funny?”

Eliza hugged her back. “I’m fine. Yes, the car broke down. Thank you. And the coat smells funny because it’s been in my trunk.” Talking over Juliet she said, “I think it’s the alternator but I’m going to have to have it towed. Thank you so much for coming out to get me.”

“Eliza you’re like family. What a time for your parents to be at the beach, huh?”

Eliza groaned. “I know, right? My mom always says bad things will happen at the worst possible time.”

“Well my mom says everything happens for a reason,” Juliet said. Mom and Eliza shared a smile. “And,” Juliet went on, “I know the reason.”

“You do?” Eliza’s eyebrows rose with her smile.

“Yep!” Juliet beamed, still hugging her. “You’re going to fix my shoes!”

Eliza blinked. “Did the strap come off?”

“No,” Juliet said. “They don’t fit anymore. But you’re a witch. You can fix that.”

“Oh,” said Eliza. She looked at Juliet’s mom, who held her hands up in a helpless ‘I don’t know what to do either’ way. “Well…” Eliza said slowly.

“Hey, Julie,” Mom cut in, “We’re running late. You two have dances to get to. We need to get going.”

Juliet nodded and said to Eliza, “You can fix them in the car on the way.” She ran back to the car.

“I’m so sorry,” Mom said. “It’s all my fault.”

Eliza smiled. “It’s okay.” And she winked. “Let me grab a few things real quick.”

They pulled into the elementary school parking lot. Students and their parents flowed in like particles pulled by gravity into the light spilling from the gym doors.

Eliza turned to Juliet. “Shoes?”

Juliet ripped them off with a wince and handed them up front.

Eliza pointed a finger at her, squinting. “Close your eyes.”

“But I want to watch!”

“Nope. This is advanced magic.”

“But! I promise I’ll—”

“Do you want your shoes fixed or not?”

Juliet huffed. “Yes.”

“Then close your eyes.

Juliet did so. She heard a soft rustling and a gentle click, and a funny plastic on metal sound and then Eliza whispering. Juliet strained to hear, but didn’t dare open her eyes, no matter how badly she wanted to. Then silence.

“Open your eyes.”

Juliet did and there were her shoes. Her eyes went wide as she took them.

“They’re perfect,” she breathed. She jammed her socks on and then carefully put the shoes on. “They fit!” Then she shouted, “Wait!” She got out of the car, slammed the door, closed her eyes and spun on one foot. Eliza and Mom got out of the car and watched, smiling as she stood stock still, eyes still closed.

When she opened them, she looked as though the sun were beaming out of every pore. She stood tall, confident. Her dirty blonde hair looked perfect, even with the few escaped fly aways. Her dress fit like it was made for her, and her smile could warm the hearts of the dead.

“They work! They really work! I told you, Mom, I told you! I told you she could do it!”

“You did,” Mom said, grinning.

Juliet flung her arms around Eliza. “Thank you,” she whispered. She squeezed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Eliza squeezed her back. “Now let’s get you into your dance.”

Juliet skipped on the way in, holding Eliza’s hand on one side and her mom’s on the other. She had to because she kept looking down at her shoes and would’ve fallen otherwise.

“They look so perfect,” she said. “It’s like you made them brand new.”

“What can I say?” Eliza said. “I’m amazing.”

They dropped her off, watching her strut into the gym. She really did have a sort of magic shine about her. It wasn’t just them. Other people watched her too. A boy got pushed out from his friends and after glaring at them, went awkwardly to go talk to her.

He held his hand out, face bright red, and Julie took it. She turned, caught sight of her mom and Eliza and waved, beaming like a child goddess. They waved back.

“C’mon, let get you to your dance.”

In the car, Eliza said, “I feel a little bad.”

“Don’t,” said Juliet’s mom. “You made her night.”

“Yeah, but I just postponed the inevitable.”

Mom shrugged. “We’ll get there when we get there. And hopefully she’ll realize the magic was inside her the whole time.”

They made it to the high school and Eliza sat in the car, rubbing her thumbs together in her lap.

Mom tilted her head. “Are you nervous?”

“A little.” Eliza said. She gave an embarrassed smile. “I could use some magic shoes.”

Mom laughed, but then Eliza reached down and picked up a box. Opening it, there lay a pair of shoes identical to Juliet’s, but bigger.

“When I bought them, I thought it would be cute for us to have a matching pair. And, well, they are really pretty.”

“They are,” Mom agreed. “Put them on.”

When she had, Eliza said, “Well, I don’t know if they’re magic—”

“No, no,” said Mom, “You have to do the spin, remember?”

Eliza rolled her eyes but mom insisted, so she got out. Making sure no one was watching, she closed her eyes and spun on one foot, almost falling over. Then she held still, with her arms out.

It was a funny thing, magic. She felt it like a tingle all the way through her. Her toes and fingertips prickled. Her chest grew warm. She stood taller. She felt…pretty.

“You look beautiful.”

Eliza opened her eyes. Juliet’s mom stood on the other side of the car, smiling softly.

“Thanks.”

“Eliza!” someone called. She looked around and saw a little group of her friends. “You made it!”

“Barely!” Eliza called back.

“Go on,” Mom said. “I’ll come pick you up later if you don’t find a ride.” Mom pointed at her. “Be safe.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Spoken like a true mom.”

“Damn right.”

Eliza laughed and waved her off as she left. She caught up with her friends.

“Wow,” Rachel said looking her over. “You look amazing. You’re sure your car broke down? You didn’t visit a faerie realm without me, did you?”

Eliza laughed and they linked arms. As they walked in, Eliza gave a little skip, glancing at her shoes.

Maybe…maybe the magic was real after all.