Magic Pie

This piece won 3rd place in the 2016 Game of Thrones Week 3, Prompt 1 writing competition, "Come up with a story where you combine the four elements (earth, air, water, fire) and add a little magic to it." So I got points for entering, maximum points for word count, and I placed. Not bad for a newbie White Walker. "Week 3 Writing Challenge #1 winners"  

Word Count 2000

Sara was five. She was half way through one of the more volatile times in her magical life. Between the ages three and seven were a time of great imagination, but little self-control. Every parent dreaded this time almost as much as they dreaded the hormone fueled teen years. At least for now little Sara still believed her parents were still in charge, but it wasn’t uncommon to see stories in the paper where a tantruming four-year-old accidentally hurt someone, especially grandparents and others whose magic was waning along with their energy. But the energy of youngsters, mixed with the ferocity of their emotions, was a dangerous mix…then when you include their natural lack of self-control, well, accidents are bound to happen from time to time.

Many parents actually shipped their children off to boarding schools during these impulsive times, wishing to allow professionals to take the brunt of the risk. Others believed that this was a coward’s way out, that it was a parent’s responsibility to be there to guide their children throughout their life, on into adulthood. Not to mention, these times were often a time of great bonding within families, cementing a place for parents long after their children no longer need them and ensuring they aren’t put off alone in the wilderness once their magic is worn out.

Sara sat among her dolls and stuffed animals, pretending each was a guest at her dinner party. She’d managed to summon some warm milk to serve her guests along with small sandwiches her mother had taught her to create from wind and water. Her guests waited patiently for her to complete each simple spell, as any good dolly and teddy would. Not satisfied with her handiwork, she called out.

“Mom!” No response. “MOOOoooommm!”

Her mom poked her head from around the doorway. “Goodness child, what is it? I’m making dinner.”

“I want a cookie spell.”

“No. We’ve talked about this before. No junk food spells until you’ve mastered the healthy ones.”

“But Sami’s mom taught her how to make cookies.”

“And if you’d been born into Sami’s line, you could use that spell, but you weren’t, so you’ll just have to follow our rules.”

Sara squinched up her eyes and pursed her lips in anger.

“Sara,” her mom warned, giving her a softened version of the look that every child dreaded. “Don’t make me have to send your guests home.”

Her My Little Pony whinnied and shook his head at Sara. She complied.

“Well, we’ll probably be too full from sandwiches to want cookies anyway,” she told her guests.

Her smallest dolly nodded.

“Dinner will be ready in a little while, so you’d better only pretend you’re full,” her mother half teased. “And Daddy will be home soon, so finish up. I want you to be able to show him what you learned today.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

**********

“DADDY!” Sara ran rambunctiously at the large man entering the front door.

“SARA!” He teased as he started to run toward her with arms open, mimicking her.

Sara jumped excitedly at him, bouncing off him as he leaned down.

“Mommy’s making rose petal stew for dinner!”

“Oh goodie!” he said sarcastically. Then more excitedly how was my little girl today?

“I was very good. I even learned a trick!”

“Did you learn a trick or a spell?”

“A spell…come on, Daddy. You know what I mean.”

“There’s a big difference.” Then turning to his wife and giving her a peck on the cheek, “And how’s my big girl today?”

She smiled. “Exhausted, but otherwise fine. Teaching Sara is really something better left to the professionals.” She laughed, “But she did learn it and she figured most of it out herself.”

“Oh my.”

“Oh my, indeed. Luckily for us, she’s our little angel.” Sara’s mother ruffled Sara’s hair. “Dinner will be ready soon. Sara, show your daddy your spell while you wait.”

“Come on, Daddy!” Sara dragged him off to her bedroom.

Sara yanked open her drawers and threw a pair of jeans on the floor.

“Watch, Daddy.” She closed her eyes and began making folding motions in the air, peeking from time to time to see how things were going. Then she’d say random things like, “Folding-fold” and “No more wrinkles.” Finally, she had a satisfied look on her face and opened her eyes. “See, Daddy?”

“Wow…that has got to be the longest spell someone your age has ever cast.” He laughed and picked up the jeans, shaking them out. “Now show me how to do it without magic.”

She groaned, but complied.

Her father laughed again as she folded the jeans. “Well, they might be a bit neater with the spell, but this is certainly a lot faster. Remember, just because you CAN spell a task, doesn’t mean you SHOULD. But you did a great job, honey! I’m very proud of you!” He gives her a kiss on the top of the head.

“Race you to the table,” Sara cries and she dashes off.

**********

Sami starts gathering dirt into small piles. “Let’s make mud pies and then turn them into real pies!”

“Okay,” Sara agreed. She started building piles of dirt as well, then stopped. “I’ll go get some stuff for the magic.”

She came back several minutes later with two plastic cups of water and her mother's purse. She put the water cups down, then dumped the contents of the purse. “Mom always has lots of magic stuff in here.”

Sami and Sara began sorting through the purse items, playing with and setting aside various things, lip gloss, three locks of hair in a baggie, aspirin, tissues, matches, coins, an empty vial, a variety of pens and pencils, and a number of other items.

“We better put the aspirin up so we don’t get in trouble,” Sara told her friend, placing the bottle back into the purse which was already getting dirty.

Then they started mixing mud for their mud pies, each following their own recipe regarding the appropriate dirt to water ratio, as they saw fit.

“I’m going to decorate mine,” Sami exclaimed. She began placing leaves on top of her pie, carefully arranged.

Following suit, Sara tried to draw a smiley face in her pie, but the mud wouldn’t hold, so she settled for putting sticks upright across the pie.

“Are you ready to make them real?” Sami asked.

Sara nodded enthusiastically. “Do you know a spell for it?”

“No, but we can make one up. Hocus pocus, don’t eat locus,” she waves her hands over the pies.

Both giggled.

“Make it a real pie so we don’t cry if we try to die.” Sara also waved her hands.

They giggled again and made several more efforts.

Growing weary of nothing happening, Sara suggested that maybe they needed more ingredients. She started blowing on her pie, saying, “Air, air, make my pie rare.”

Still nothing. Sami began rummaging around the pile of things from the purse. She tried using various pens for wands and was going to try putting lip gloss on her mud pie when Sara thought better of it and stopped her. They settled for each applying some to themselves.

Eventually, Sami picked up the matches. “Maybe we need to make a fire cook them.”

That seemed logical, Sara agreed, and began to pile leaves and twigs between the mud pie creations. Eventually satisfied that they’d built the perfect mini pyre, Sami lit a match.

Startled by the sound and suddenness of the flame, she dropped it and laughed. More prepared, she tried again. When the match lit, she dropped it on the small pile. It went out before touching anything.

Sara leaned down and blew on the match. Sami said some more “magic” words. And...nothing.

Disappointed, “Blowing makes fire in the movies.”

“Maybe if we dance around the fire,” Sami suggested.

They got up and after several rounds of “Ring Around the Rosie,” they tried again. This time Sara blew on the leaves continuously while Sami lit the match and, lowering it closer to the pile, dropped it again. Sara immediately blew it out, accidentally.

“Sara!”

“Sorry!”

“Maybe you should just dance.”

Sara got up and began dancing.

Sami lit another match and got even closer to the pile before dropping it. This time the match began to smoke and caused black, then grey on the leaf on which it landed. Sami began saying all sorts of magic phrases and Sara danced all the harder. Then a gentle breeze kicked up, encouraging them. They worked more fervently until Sara noticed the water beginning to dry on the surface of the mud and more smoke trailing from the leaves which had become laced with gray ash and orange embers.

The harder the girls tried, the more things seemed to be going in their favor until finally a little fire broke out and the girls rejoiced and Sami joined Sara in the maddening dance and they both yelled out all sorts of magical phrases. The fire grew, the smoke intensified, the breeze blew, and suddenly their little fire was blown apart by the wind.

“No!” Sami whined, plopping down annoyed. “Hey, do you smell that?”

Sara sniffed the air, then got closer to the pies and sniffed again. “Smells like pie!”

“WE DID IT! WE DID IT!” The girls cried out in unison over and over, rejoicing, visions of midnight pie treats dancing in their heads.

Eagerly, each girl took a part of her own pie and smelled it, then took a bite. Both immediately spit them out, irritated at their own pie, but pointing and laughing heartily at the other girl who had the same response.

Sami, wiping her tongue on the inside of her shirt, “Well, at least they SMELLED like pie. We should practice every day until we get a whole pie.”

“Two whole pies,” Sara corrected.

“Yes. One for each of us!” She threw leaves into the air and let them flutter down.

Both girls giggled.

“I can still smell the fire,” Sara observed.

“That’s because we’re so good at this!”

“I’m hungry.”

“We can try again,” Sami offered.

“No. I want real food.” She got up, dusting herself off. “We have Doritos at the house. Want some?”

“Yeah.”

The girls began putting the items back in the purse, along with a stray leaf or two.

Sami observed the work they’d done. “We should leave our pies here for next time so we don’t have to start all over again.”

“Yeah. This time it smelled like cherry pies, but I don’t really like cherry pie. I want apple pie.”

Sami laughed. “I want a yummy pie next time.”

Sara joined Sami in laughter. Then suddenly stopped laughing and pointed a little ways away.

Sami followed her finger to a bit of smoke wafting from the underbrush.

“FIRE!” both girls screamed.

Sami grabbed her water and threw it at the threat, falling several feet short.

Sara, not to repeat Sami’s mistake, threw harder, also falling short.

The girls screamed and ran toward the house. “FIRE! FIRE!”

“What?!?” Sara’s mother scrambled.

Hearing the commotion, Sara’s father was roused from his Saturday afternoon football/nap.

By this time the girls are crying hysterically and pointing.

Sara’s father grabbed a blanket from the couch while her mother called 911. Her father dashed outside in the direction they were pointing with following.

Upon reaching the place of the imagined blaze, the girls pointing, Sara’s father stepped on the smoldering leaves and instructs the girls to get a large pail of water as punishment.

They spend the next half our listening to a lecture on magic, fire, and general hysterics, plus something thrown in regarding eating healthy, since he had their attention. The firemen who arrived also had a little something to say, though more gently.

By the end of the day, Sara decided to practice her jeans folding and dolly enlivening magic only. She’d leave the rest to the grown-ups…at least for now.