A Certain Kind Of Magic: Part Three

     ‘Dear Breanna,

     I would be absolutely and totally glad to reconsider. It would be a blessing to allow you into our newspaper team. You are absolutely fine; you shall make it to the big-time quickly. I have already heard of your spat with Pansy, the pink Uni. Of course, she is a horrible, nasty Devilpuss, and I sympathise. I do not see how she continues to be published. Another of her pieces came out this week. I’ve heard that her father tips the editors and publishers off. If everything isn’t done the way she wants it, then they are doomed.

     But back on track, Breanna, I would be absolutely glad to see you at work tomorrow. Come fast and at nine o’clock sharp. We shall not wait longer than fifteen minutes. At fifteen past nine, we shall fire you—if you’re not there, that is. You shall write one article for us while at work on any topic of your choice. Thanks you, Breanna for reconsidering.

     Kindest Regards to My Newest Employee,

     Mr. Jenkins’

     Well, what a nice letter! I’d expected him to rub it in my face and then say he’d think about when it was absolutely clear he wouldn’t.

     “What does he say?” Mum asked, stirring something on the stove.

     “He says that he’ll accept me and that I start work tomorrow. If I’m not there by fifteen past nine then I’m fired on the spot, no questions asked. I have to write an article while I’m there.” I looked worried.

     “But darling, tomorrow’s Dad’s birthday. I mean, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you went, but... it’s up to you.”

     “Sweet Jhudora’s cupcakes!” I muttered and sat down on the lounge. The answer was immediate and I knew that I’d choose it no matter what. “I’m going to get fired.”

     Of course I couldn’t go to work on Dad’s birthday. I wouldn’t get any time for him if I went to work. I probably wouldn’t even get to say “Happy birthday” before running out the door. No, I wouldn’t go to work. I’d get fired and that would be that.

     I decided to send a quick neomail to Mr. Jenkins so he didn’t think badly of me.

     ‘Dear Mr. Jenkins,

     I’m sorry, but I will not be able to attend work tomorrow due to the fact it’s my father’s birthday. Thank you for offering me a job but I can not sacrifice my father’s birthday for a newspaper. Thank you again, for all of your kindness.

     Kindest regards,

     Breanna, Blue Zafara’

     I sighed and closed my eyes. I sent my neomail whizzing off towards Mr. Jenkins and almost laughed out loud. It seemed too fantastical that I’d ever make it to the big-time. I was just a little blue Zafara without a hope in the world.

     Looking at what I’d written just two nights ago, I crumpled it up and threw it in the bin as the fire wasn’t going. It sounded horrible to me now. I took another fresh piece of paper and my quill and dipped it in the ink pot sitting next to me.

     ‘It was dark; the icy air was making icicles on the ends of my eyelashes. Touching my forehead, I could feel my fever was getting worse.’

     The familiar ping! that meant I had a neomail sounded in the quiet. I looked at it.

     ‘Dear Breanna,

     We are very sorry that you could not join our team; we’ll have to fire you, yes. Well, thank you anyway.

     Kindest regards,

     Mr. Jenkins’

     So I was fired. Who cared anyway? I smiled to myself and went back to my writing.

     * * * * *

     It was exactly one month since I had been fired. I hadn’t felt the slightest bit regretful when the new newspaper had launched. I was reading the latest issue of the Neopian Times when I saw an article. It was only small but it caught my interest.

     ‘Now we all know the newest newspaper, News on Fire. Just today, the Defenders of Neopia have found out the scam. Remember how all of the articles and stories in it were anonymous? Well, it was because they were stealing works from novels and us without us knowing it. The only original ones were done by one of the staff who was getting ten dollars per piece. They have now shut down News on Fire and it shall never see the light of day again. Johnny Lindsoile’

     I laughed and laughed until tears streamed from my eyes. My sides ached and I rolled on the floor. I think I went temporarily insane for a few minutes. Then, as I climbed back on my chair, the chuckles starting to subside; I decided that it really had been a good thing I’d been fired.

     Christmas had gone and passed and I was absolutely happy. I sighed and looked at what I’d written most recently. It looked alright to me, so I put in an envelope and got ready to send it to the Neopian Times. I was still a frequent contributor and people were beginning to know my name.

     “Breanna, come down for dinner!” Mum called.

     Vanessa and Jesse had left just recently after visiting during Christmas. Neoschool would be starting up soon again and I groaned at the thought. I took my Neopian Times submission down with me so I could mail it after dinner.

     “What have you been doing, Breannie?” Mum asked as I sat down at the table.

     “Just writing,” I said. I glanced at Larissa who was sitting, looking disgustedly at her tomatoes. “I’m thinking about submitting something that I wrote a while ago.”

     Looking at my food, I started eating my salad. Larissa was smearing peanut butter on her celery and I smiled. I really did have a nice family. Judging from my friends, most families didn’t get on very well. Little brothers were annoying, little sisters were annoying, and parents were always doing things which were “ancient”. Our family was really lucky. We didn’t fight—too much—and we all cared for each other.

     We ate in near silence for the rest of the meal. Mum and Dad talked about all sorts of boring things, like how they didn’t like the new games and they thought Key Quest was stupid. Larissa and I were constantly having fun playing that game together and fiercely objected.

     When I was finished, I didn’t stay around to have dessert. Taking the envelope containing my story, I walked to the door.

     “I’m just going to mail this, then I might go to the Soup Kitchen to see my friends,” I said.

     “Alright, dear,” Mum said.

     I set off walking in the twilight which was rapidly becoming dusk. I wasn’t afraid of the dark; there was no need. I kept walking and thought about a new plot for a story. Hm, no, this one wasn’t plain enough, that one was too plain; now that was absolutely boring. I gave a sigh and resigned from that occupation.

     Soon I’d reached the Post Office and delivered my letter. I then started walking again towards the Soup Kitchen. My best friend, Tully, liked to sit there and read. The Soup Faerie liked her because she often helped out with the serving of the soup.

     When I reached the Soup Kitchen, Tully wasn’t there. I sat down at a table in the old-fashioned building. Adjacent to me was an old, bent, red Kyrii in a cloak and pointed hat. She’d be sweltering under there.

     “It looks like you’re a bit stressed,” the Soup Faerie said, placing a bowl in front of me. “This will help calm your nerves.”

     I smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

     The soup was a light blue with fruit floating in it. I took a spoonful; it tasted good. I took another and it tasted better. I found myself caught up in the flavour and I didn’t have any time to worry or stress about anything.

     “How’s your soup, dearie?” the bent Kyrii asked.

     “It’s very good, thank you,” I said easily. “How is yours?”

     “Aside from the dung, I like it.”

     I laughed. “The farmers aren’t very careful with their farming and the Soup Faerie just doesn’t have time to pick it out.”

     She sighed. “I suppose so.”

     I went back to my own soup and found it was all gone. I pouted.

     “Humph,” I said and crossed my arms.

     I watched the Kyrii eat her own soup gingerly, searching for lumps of dung. When she was finished, she stood up and turned to me.

     “Would you mind if you walked me home? I’m a little shaky in the knees these days,” she asked.

     “Um, sure; I live just a little way up there, past the Post Office.”

     “That’s the direction I’m going as well. We can walk together to your house and then I’ll go the rest of the way on my own.”

     I agreed and so we set off. We chattered about this and that, exchanged opinions on different current events. All too soon we reached my neohome. On the door a note was pinned up.

     ‘Gone to buy groceries, back soon; hope you have a key.’

     “Sweet Jhudora’s cupcakes, my key is inside!” I exclaimed.

     “Don’t worry, dearie,” the Kyrii said.

     She opened her purse and took out an old key. She put in the lock and turned it. The door opened easily.

     “Well, I’ve got to run, thank you for walking me part of the way!” she said, running down the steps. She then pulled a broomstick out of her purse—I know how it fit—and jumped on and flew away cackling.

     “At least I have something to write about,” I said before walking inside.

The End