Wishes Read Online Free Page B

officially ignored. I felt as if every object in the room were distancing itself from me.
    “No, thank you. Leave the dishes, Grandmother. I want to fix my hair.”
    “I’ll do the dishes,” I offered, but no one answered me.
    After they both went upstairs to get dressed, I washed the dishes as an apology.

5.
    Around noon, Gram, Agnes, and I walked together to the Meadow. Jonathan Carr left early because he was in charge of maintenance at the Beltane fairgrounds.
    I should mention that the Meadow is relatively small—only a couple of square blocks—most of the time. But when the fog covers it, the area inside becomes infinite. That’s how the witches were able to hide from the Puritans three centuries ago: The Meadow went into an alternate plane of existence. The people inside had a whole world to live in, although to cowen it just seemed like a small, fog-covered lot.
    That’s what happens on holidays like Beltane. You’d never think there’d be room inside the foggy park for a big fair with rides and booths and food vendors, but there is.
    “Afternoon, ladies,” Mr. Haversall said as he tipped his hat to Gram. “I don’t expect you need a guide to the festivities.”
    “No thank you, Bertram,” Gram said with a chuckle. “We know the way.” She took a homemade dog biscuit from her purse and gave it to Dingo, who was sitting up on his hind legs in anticipation. “Will the weather hold?”
    “Ayuh. Blue skies.” This was probably correct, since Mr. Haversall was a rainmaker and could hold off any sort of bad weather, should it occur on a holiday. But Gram always asked anyway because it was part of the ritual the two old people always repeated, including Dingo’s dog trick and the biscuit.
    After we passed, I looked back through the fog at Mr. Haversall. He’d kept quiet about my fairy-hunting activities the night before, probably because ratting me out would have meant altering the never-changing dialogue with my great-grandmother. To my relief, he nodded graciously, and in another second, I couldn’t see him at all.
    This was the densest part of the magical fog, the place where cowen found an impenetrable barrier and couldn’t go on. I could feel a slight pull, as if the fog had taken on the consistency of bread dough, but then we broke through and the Meadow was clear and sunny, and there was no trace of fog anywhere.

    The Beltane festivities were already well underway, with rides and puppet shows for the little kids, and games of strength and skill and chance for the rest of us, along with food stands, a karaoke tent, and a whole row of fortune-tellers. This was pretty funny, considering the only real clairvoyants here were among the visitors, since no one wants to know what’s really going to happen to them.
    The so-called “gypsies” were just volunteers like Mabel Bean, who always told you that whatever you wanted to happen would come true, and then gave you one of her fabulous blueberry cookies. All of the money that was made during these events was used to pay for next year’s rides and things—expensive, since the number of vendors catering to magical events is pretty limited—so no one minded shelling out a couple of dollars in exchange for Mrs. Bean’s company and the best cookies on earth.
    I found my friends behind the tents, building a mock-up of the big bonfire that would be used after dark for the handfastings. Verity and Cheswick had been jumping over the fire since they were fourteen, but this would be Becca and Bryce’s first time.
    “It’s really safe,” Verity was saying like an old housewife. “All sorts of people will be standing by to pull you out of the fire in case you fall in.”
    “Or you could just hop over a hot coal,” Cheswick suggested.
    “We’re not hopping over any stupid coal,” Bryce snapped.
    “Becca’s on the girls’ basketball team,” I said by way of greeting. Becca was not only blond and extremely beautiful, but also tall and athletic.