Flowers bring colour. All Words: 415 |
The tulips were late that year. "Let's call Wendelin," Suzan suggested. "She'll know what to do." Her parents looked at each other. They really weren't comfortable with their seven-year-old daughter being friends with a witch, but then, Wendelin had never done anything harmful in all the five years they had known her. Suzan and Wendelin had been firm friends since they'd been in nursery school together, and it was only recently that Suzan's parents had understood what Wendelin really was. On Suzan's last birthday a month ago, Wendelin had bewitched the candles on the cake so that they didn't go off till Suzan blew on them seven times. She'd been a bit blatant in the boasting and given herself away. Suzan was already back in the house, dialing her friend's phone number. "Hello Wendelin? My Mom and Dad are worried about the tulips. Can you come over?" The doorbell rang as she hung up the receiver. Wendelin had magicked herself over. Suzan answered the door and the two girls made their way to the backyard, where Suzan's parents were still looking over the tulip bed. Wendelin stood between the two adults and looked, too. Then, she spoke, but it wasn't in a language anyone could understand. She paused, and, from the flowerbed, a squeaky voice answered, apparently speaking the same language. A few minutes of conversation and Wendelin turned to them. "They don't want to come out," she announced. "They don't like the climate and they don't like the pollution. They're saying they won't emerge this year." "But - but - the garden show! I was counting on my tulips to help me win the garden show!" Wendelin spoke to the flowerbed again. The conversation this time was much more lively. In fact, there were times it sounded like an argument, and times it even sounded like a fight. "Well," she said, finally. "I told them how you're very careful about saving water, and segregating trash, and how you avoid polluting products. They finally agreed to bloom for you. Just wait a couple of days." Sure enough, two days later, the tulip bed was a riot of colour. Each flower was of a different hue. Some were even mixed shades. Suzan's mother not only won first prize, the organizers created a special prize in her honour for the magical flowers. "It pays to heed the environment," Suzan whispered to Wendelin, as they stood watching the prize distribution. "Sure does," her friend grinned back. |