one

In Fairyland, from the far outer isles to the mainland to Sheepskerry Island, where the Fairy Bell sisters live, springtime means spring-cleaning. As the hummingbirds play and the apple blossoms cover the ground with snowy flowers, fairies everywhere clean out their dresser drawers and beat their rugs and take down curtains for their twice-a-year wash.

At the Fairy Bell household, the long week of spring-cleaning was nearly done.

“Has anyone seen Sylva?” Clara called to her fairy sisters. She was ironing their best linen napkins, the ones with lace on the edges.

“I think she went up to Queen Mab’s again—to the petting zoo,” said Rosy. She and baby Squeak were scrubbing the breadboard. Or Rosy was scrubbing the breadboard. Squeak was having fun with flour.

“Squeak!” said Squeak.

“That zoo could use a spring-cleaning,” said Goldie as she plumped a pillow. “Animals can get awfully stinky.”

“I’m not at the petting zoo and animals don’t get stinky if you take care of them,” Sylva called from her room. “Plus, I did all the zoo cleaning yesterday.” She was proud of the way she took care of Queen Mab’s animals. “Queen Mab says I’m a natural.”

“You may be a natural at cleaning animals’ rooms, but what about your own? Have you cleaned under your bed yet?”

“I’m just doing it now!” Sylva said. She peeked under the bed. “Oops,” she said. “What a disaster.” Sylva didn’t want to spend a lot of time sorting through the muddle of shoe bags and clothes and books and shells and twigs and paints that she stored behind her bed ruffle, so with a mighty push she shoved them toward the wall, swabbed the mop around quickly, and decided she was finished.

She flew to the top of the stairs. “Can I please go out now, Clara?” she asked. “Poppy promised she’d be ready to go to the jumble pile the minute I put down my mop.”

The jumble pile was the best part of spring-cleaning. All the Sheepskerry fairies brought their unwanted items to Queen Mab’s palace and left them on her bright green lawn. What a treasure trove it was! Goldie found an antique kimono in the jumble pile one year, which Queen Mab said had come from an island terribly far away. Rosy claimed a funny little bouncer seat for Squeakie only last spring, and for weeks on end, Squeak had bounced up and down every morning while Rosy warmed her bottle.

Sylva had yet to find anything really worth calling a treasure in the jumble pile. She’d picked up some dented thimbles and a couple of waterlogged books, but she’d never had a real find.

“If you don’t say I’m finished with my chores, I’m going to burst!” said Sylva. “We’ve got to get up there before the other fairies take the good stuff. I bet those Seaside sisters have already taken everything I would have liked.”

“You’re done, Sylva,” said Clara. “In fact, I think we’re all done. Good job. You can go up there whenever you—”

And before Clara could finish her sentence, Sylva was out the door.

“I’ll find treasure for all my sisters,” she said. “And something very special just for me!”