2

Pearl scooted out of the corner booth and yanked the magnifying glass from Mr. Bumfrickle’s hand. “I need to borrow this,” she said. There was no time to be polite. This matter had to be dealt with immediately.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Bumfrickle complained. “Can’t a man enjoy his breakfast in peace?”

While the dogs barked and Mr. Bumfrickle muttered to himself, Pearl scrambled back into the booth. The creature was still standing on the windowsill, eating its prize. Carefully, so as not to startle it, Pearl lowered the magnifying glass. Then she peered through the lens. “Holy guacamole,” she whispered.

It was definitely not a hornet. Nor a bee of any kind. Pearl knew this because she’d studied them in biology class last year. Ms. Bee had a special fondness for bees, on account of her name, and she kept a tray of specimens in her desk drawer. Whether a wasp or a nasty hornet, all bees possessed the following things: segmented bodies, little fuzzy insect legs, and furry insect faces. This creature had a tiny human body, two human legs, and a smooth human face. The only things it had in common with a bee were wings and antennae.

“It’s a fairy,” Pearl said with a delighted squeal. Then she cringed. She shouldn’t have said that out loud. But fortunately the wiener dogs were barking so obnoxiously that no one in the diner had heard Pearl’s declaration.

“Now, now, Sweetness and Light. Momma won’t let the bad bumblebee hurt you.” Gladys spooned more hash onto their trays. With tails wagging, the dogs slurped up their food.

Pearl scooted closer to the windowsill, holding the magnifying glass as steady as possible, despite her trembling hand. The fairy looked like a girl, with tangled hair as green as spring leaves and skin as brown as tree bark. Perched upon her head was a little silver crown. A rush of excitement filled Pearl’s entire body. She felt as if she might faint. “It must be a princess. Or a queen,” she said, once again much louder than she’d intended.

Ms. Bee, who was seated at the counter, pivoted on her stool. “Did you say a queen?” She pointed her fork at Pearl. “Better be careful. If the queen is here, that means she’s looking for a new place to nest. The rest of the hive will follow.”

“We can’t have a hornet nest in the diner,” Lucy said as she filled a ketchup container. “Hurry up and squish that thing!”

Kill it? No way! “Don’t worry,” Pearl said. “I’ll take care of it.” She needed a container. After setting the magnifying glass aside, she grabbed a saltshaker, unscrewed its little lid, and emptied the contents into an empty coffee mug. The fairy was busily munching on some pancake, so she didn’t seem to notice the glass container hovering above her head. “Easy,” Pearl whispered. “Easy.” Then, quick as a wink, she set the saltshaker over the fairy.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Bumfrickle hollered, smacking his hand on the table. “Where’s my newspaper? And my reading glass? Dadburnit.”

The fairy dropped her piece of pancake and began pounding on the wall of the shaker. It looked as if she was yelling, but the glass muffled the sound. As the fairy flew around the inside, still pounding her fists, Pearl raised the shaker ever so slightly and slid a napkin underneath. Then, with her hand cupped over the napkin, she tipped the saltshaker so it was right side up. As the fairy tumbled to the bottom, Pearl removed the napkin and quickly screwed the top back into place. It was a perfect fairy container because it already had little holes in it for air. “Gotcha,” Pearl said proudly.

Ms. Bee had been watching with interest. “Let me take a look,” she told Pearl. “If it’s the queen, then I’d love to keep it as a specimen for my class.”

Pearl pictured the fairy skewered onto Ms. Bee’s velvet display board between a black beetle and a monarch butterfly. “Uh, I was wrong. It’s not a queen.” Holding the shaker in both hands, Pearl slid out of the booth. “Gotta go,” she said as she hurried toward the diner’s door, her blond ponytail swishing. “Thanks for breakfast!” Before her great-aunt could ask any questions, and before Lucy, Ms. Bee, or Mr. Bumfrickle could get a better look at the amazing creature she’d caught, Pearl made her escape.

“Best get rid of it!” Ms. Bee called. “Or the swarm will follow!”

Pearl hadn’t taken a single bite of her number six, but she didn’t care. I found a fairy, she sang to herself. A fairy, a fairy, a FAIRY!

She needed to tell Ben. He’d be so amazed. He might be at his grandfather’s house, or at the Buttonville Senior Center, where he sometimes volunteered. She’d check those places first. She was about to run up Main Street when a flash of red caught her eye. “Drat,” Pearl grumbled. Archenemy alert! Victoria Mulberry, dressed in her usual overalls, was walking straight toward her.

It was tough being a kid in Buttonville, mostly because there were very few choices for friends. Victoria Mulberry was the only other girl who was Pearl’s age. It would have been nice for both girls if they’d become best friends. They could have worked on school projects together. Spent birthdays together. Gone to the Milkydale County Fair together. Unfortunately, Victoria was not a free-spirited, fun-loving, adventure-seeking sort of girl. Victoria was a persnickety, tattle-telling, whiny, spoiled, mean, unpleasant sort of girl. And while some say that opposites attract, that was far from the truth with Victoria and Pearl.

The saltshaker vibrated in Pearl’s hands as the fairy flew around. There were no pockets in Pearl’s shiny blue basketball shorts, so she clasped her hands behind her back. “Hey, Victoria,” she said, trying to sound as bored as a brain cell in Victoria’s brain.

“I’m not talking to you,” Victoria announced as she stopped right in front of Pearl.

“Fine by me,” Pearl said, which was the truth, because any day spent not talking to Victoria was a good day in her book.

Victoria’s red hair was so frizzy it looked as if she’d stuck her finger into a light socket. “Don’t you want to know why I’m not talking to you?” She glared through her thick glasses.

“No, I don’t.” Pearl shuffled in place. The saltshaker tickled her palms. “And by the way, you are talking to me. Just thought I’d point that out.”

“I’m too busy to talk to you because I’ve got some important reading to do.” Victoria held up a rather thick book. This was not unusual. She almost always carried a book. What was unusual was that she was walking alone, without her mother, and without her red wagon.