Eleanor raced along the snowy sidewalk like a contestant on one of those reality shows where you have to be the first one to find some clue that leads to some other clue or you’re out of the game.
I moved more slowly, slipping all over the place, until I fell flat on my bum.
“Wait up! It’s not like she’s going to vanish if we don’t find her today.”
“I see it, Ruby,” she said, waving. “It’s right here. Hurry!”
I rolled over onto my knees and stood up, although it was hard to balance on the super-slippery sidewalk. When I finally caught up to her, Eleanor squealed and pointed at the back wall of a brick building where an old wooden sign was nailed to the corner.
“Ap-pa-ri-tion Way,” I read out loud, then peered down the narrow road. “I wonder why we’ve never noticed it before?”
Suddenly Eleanor scrambled up and over the mound of crusty snow.
“Whoa! There’s no way I’m going down there,” I said. “It’s too deep.”
“But Ruby, I see a door with a light up ahead. Come on—it’s not that far.”
I took one step and immediately broke straight through the packed snow past my red boots to the middle of my orange leggings. Eleanor, on the other hand, scurried across the surface like a rabbit.
“This is crazy, Eleanor! Why isn’t this plowed if it’s a real alley?”
I trudged down the tiny street, hoisting one leg out of the packed drifts as the other one plunged through to the bottom. Eventually I caught up to Eleanor, who was gazing at an open door. My wheezing had really kicked in, so I took a moment to catch my breath again.
“Is this it?” I puffed.
But before she could reply, a head with a mountain of white hair appeared sideways in the doorway.
“Bonjour!”
Neither of us said anything.
“Bonjour, bonjour, les filles!” the head greeted us again.
Eleanor gawked at the woman like she was staring at a ghost.
“Bonjour to you too,” I said, since I knew some French. “Are you the psychic lady?”
“Oui, oui, indeed, I am,” she replied with a glamorous accent. “All rrrreadings free today. And let me see, you must be—?”
“Ruby,” I said, “like the color of a rose. But I bet you already knew that, huh?”
“Non, I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
She definitely wasn’t the kind of psychic they showed on television ads. Those psychics knew everything about you just from talking to you on the phone.
Madame Magnifique turned to Eleanor, who continued to stare like she was in some sort of trance.
“And who is your silent friend?”
“This is Eleanor. She’s kinda quiet at first, until she gets to know you.”
“Bien! S’il vous plaît, come in, girls. Vite, vite! I have much to tell you.”
Madame Magnifique was very round, and almost as short as I was. Her fancy white dress dragged across the ground, and a thick sparkly shawl kept her shoulders warm. She wore fuzzy white gloves with rings slipped over each finger, and on her feet were cherry-colored boots that looked exactly like something a fairy godmother would wear. Strangest of all, a long red feather poked out of her curly white hair.
After slipping off our boots, we followed her through a narrow hallway (which smelled like warm gingerbread) to a square room shimmering in golden light. Thick, soft velvet covered every inch of the space: velvet curtains, velvet furniture, and a velvet cloth draped over the round table in the middle of the room. Even the carpet felt like velvet beneath our socks.
“Holy ravioli,” I said, “this is wicked cool.”
“Please sit,” said Madame M. “Be comfortable.”
Our chairs were so low, my shoulders pressed against the edge of the table, while Madame M perched high on a stool across from us. She said nothing as she lit two tall candles in the center of the table. It all felt very serious.
“You know what this reminds me of?” I whispered to Eleanor, who looked like she’d seen a ghost. “That movie with the boy who ate too many tacos and saw flying dragons; do you remember that? The part where the—”
“Excusez-moi!” said Madame M. “There is not much time. I have a manicure appointment in fifteen minutes.”
Right then Eleanor looked at me—her eyes bulging out of her head—because I knew, on top of being scared, she suddenly remembered the time and didn’t want to get in trouble with her mother for being late. I searched the room for a clock, but before I could find one, Madame M began to hum loudly. She gazed up at the ceiling and stretched her arms over her puffy white head and red feather. Then all at once, she stopped her humming and arm-waving and slapped her hands on top of the table.
I glanced at Eleanor and could tell she had already forgotten about the time.
“Maintenant, les filles: You must place your hands flat and lock your thumbs like this.”
We immediately copied her, our hands shaped like those bird shadows you make on the wall.
“Now, close your eyes tightly and say these words: Stars and moons and worlds that beam, lead me to my deepest drrream!”
I had to force myself not to giggle as we repeated the funny chant.
“Ouvrez!” she cried, and blew out the candles. “Open!”
The sweet smoke clouded the space in front of us as Madame M squeezed the top of our bird hands at the same time.
“You!” she said, studying Eleanor. “Once your creativity is unleashed, there will be no stopping you from realizing your fullest potential and achieving your deepest drrream.”
Eleanor’s mouth dropped open in amazement.
“And you!” she said, facing me. “In order to unlock your deepest drrream, you must go outside your world, to the unfamiliar, reaching far beyond your comfort zone.”
Now I was amazed, like she really could see into our minds.
Madame Magnifique lifted her hands and blew across her palms as if scattering magical dust. Then she smacked them together and back and forth like she was trying to wipe off the extra magic.
“And girls . . . if this does not come true within four months, come back and see me. I’ll give you a refund.”
“But it was free?” I reminded her.
“It was?” said the psychic. “What a bargain!”
We followed her back through the narrow hallway (that still smelled like warm gingerbread) and stumbled out of the alley door into the late-afternoon light. I felt a little dazed, like I had just woken up from a deep sleep.
“Thank you,” we mumbled at the exact same time.
Madame M smiled as she gave a tiny wave with the tips of her fingers.