nineteen

Dawn came far too soon the next morning, but Goldie didn’t really mind. She had packed up her bags the night before. She was eager to go home. Avery had promised she’d meet her at the dock to say good-bye. How long ago it seemed that she’d first arrived on the mainland! And how much had happened!

Silently she flew down to the big wooden door of the Townleys’ fairy town house. Her bags did not seem so heavy now. “Good-bye, Claudine and Amanda,” she said. “You gave me a rough ride.”

She was just about to slip outside when she saw an envelope on the front table. It was addressed, in very clear writing, to Golden Crystal Bell.

Inside was a letter, which she took her time to read.

Dear Golden,

We’re sorry we were so mean to you this weekend. And that we Claudine tricked you into dressing as a witch for the fancy-dress party. We won’t do it again. Come back soon (and tell us how you made that leafy cape!).

Your friends, maybe?

Amanda and Claudine

“Humph,” said Goldie. “I wonder if they mean it.” She picked up the letter and tucked it in her shoe bag. “I’ll just have to come back to see if they do.”

Goldie’s sparrow carriage was waiting for her as she left the town house. The chipper little sparrow took her straight down to the dock.

“I guess Avery slept in today, not that I blame her.” Goldie sighed. “I will miss her so much when I get back home.” The glimmer of an idea shone in the back of her mind, but she didn’t quite know what she was thinking. Then she heard the squawk of her sparrow carriage driver.

“We’re here already!”

The ferry dock was silent and empty when Goldie arrived. But she was right on time. She could just see Merryweather’s nose poking out of the water as the faithful gray seal paddled toward the shore.

Suddenly she heard a rush of wings.

“You made it, Avery!” cried Goldie.

“Of course I did!” said Avery.

“How will we ever get along without each other?” said Goldie. “I wish you could come to Sheepskerry. Then we could see each other every day!”

“Oh, I wish I could!” said Avery.

Merryweather gave three short barks. Suddenly Goldie realized exactly what her idea was.

“But . . . you could go with me, Avery,” she said. “You could come to the island. You would love it on Sheepskerry. And you wouldn’t have to be a serving fairy there.”

Avery’s face lit up for a second. But then the light dimmed. “How could I leave Caraway Cooke? And my duties in the town house?”

“Caraway’s sister could work in the kitchen.”

“It’s true,” said Avery. “She’s asked for that a million times.”

“Then let her take your place. Oh, you can be a Sheepskerry fairy! And you could live with us. Or . . . ”

Suddenly, Golden remembered Faith’s voice: How I would love a little companionship, now that winter is drawing near.

“Faith Learned will take care of you! Her sisters are all gone.”

In an instant, the two fairies had settled everything. While Merryweather played in the bay, Avery sent a homing-pigeon message to Caraway Cooke. She drew a special message to let Caraway know where she was going and asked her to send along her things. She promised she would write (or draw) a note every week.

“And now,” said Goldie, “there’s only one thing left to do.”

“What’s that?” asked Avery.

“To say: Let’s be best friends.”

“Yes!” cried Avery, and she threw her arms around Goldie. “Let’s be best friends.”

Merryweather barked again. The tide was turning.

“Time to go!” said Goldie. She jumped aboard. “Coming?”

“Coming,” said Avery.

As the sun rose and Merryweather paddled toward the distant shore, Goldie held Avery’s hand. “What a lot we will have to tell my sisters!” she said. Then she turned and looked behind her. The towering buildings were getting smaller and smaller. “Good-bye, mainland,” she said. “Thanks for my very first—solo!—adventure. I’ll be back again. Pretty soon.”