Tinker Bell Junior Novel Page 6

The square was filled with carefully stacked pots of paint, bundles of seeds, baskets of bulbs, and sacks of pollen. Every fairy had worked her and his hardest for months to get to this point—ready for spring.

  Rosetta, Fawn, Iridessa, and Silvermist were standing with a group of nature fairies, admiring the preparations, when they looked up and saw disaster sweeping toward them.

  “Oh, no—the spring supplies!”

  “Not the flower paint!”

  “Save the seeds!”

  “The pollen, the pollen!”

  But there was nothing anyone could do.

  The awful Thistle stampede thundered through Springtime Square, destroying everything in its path.

  By the time the stampede broke up, the wreckage was complete.

  Every basket and bucket was broken.

  Seeds, paint, light, and scared little bulbs lay strewn everywhere.

  Fireflies had flickered out in fear.

  Ladybugs were splattered with every color of paint.

  And dazed nature fairies wandered around the devastation trying to take in what had just happened.

  When Clank and Bobble flew in and saw the mess, their eyes welled up with tears.

  The Minister of Spring picked up a surviving flower, but it wilted in his hand.

  Tinker Bell and Cheese slowed to a stop in the middle of the square. Tink slid off Cheese’s back and stood on shaking legs. “Oh, no.” Her voice was empty and hollow-sounding.

  “What happened?” Fawn asked quietly.

  Iridessa’s hands were pressed against her mouth. She was too shocked to even make a comment.

  “Tinker Bell! What did you think you were doing?” Rosetta’s voice was sharp. It was the first time Tinker Bell had heard her sound angry.

  “I was just trying to … I thought if I could corral the Thistles …” She trailed off, realizing how totally thoughtless she had been.

  Rosetta exploded. “There isn’t a garden fairy alive who can control those weeds! What were you trying to prove?”

  “She’s right, Tink. This has all gone too far.” Silvermist’s voice was gentle but very firm.

  Queen Clarion came swirling into their midst in a bright, glittering cloud of pixie dust. Her face turned pale as she looked around, taking in the full scope of the disaster. “By the Second Star!” she exclaimed. “All the preparations for spring … How did this happen?”

  Silvermist put a protective hand on Tink’s arm.

  Tink was grateful, but she knew no one could help her now. She gently pulled her arm away and approached the queen with her heart pounding in her chest. “Queen Clarion, it was me. I did it. It was all my fault.”

  There were gasps from the crowd, and some groans.

  Queen Clarion raised her hands to her cheeks.

  “Tinker Bell …” The queen’s voice trailed off.

  But Tink couldn’t defend her own silly and selfish behavior now. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to choke out.

  Then she took to the air so that she wouldn’t have to see the sad and disappointed eyes of her friends.

  That evening, at sunset, the Council of Seasons met in a cavernous chamber high in the Pixie Dust Tree.

  Gathered there, among the leaf books and scrolls, were Queen Clarion, her four season ministers, and Fairy Mary.

  “I don’t think we can fix this in time,” said the Minister of Spring. “And if we’re not ready when the Everblossom opens, we’re going to have to cancel spring, or postpone it at the very least.”

  “And put my snowflake fairies back to work? Oh, no!” argued the Minister of Winter.

  The Minister of Summer, with eyes as green as grass, shook her head. “We can’t! We can’t do that! If the snow isn’t melted, the seedlings won’t grow, our fruit won’t ripen in the summer and …”

  “… and in the fall, there will be nothing to harvest,” the Minister of Autumn finished for her. “Spring must happen on time, or the balance of nature will be undone!”

  “There must be something we can do,” the Minister of Winter insisted. “Certainly this has happened before!”

  “It has!” the Minister of Spring snapped. “Did you ever hear of the Ice Age?”

  Queen Clarion lifted her hands, asking for calm. “Settle down, all of you. Fairy Mary, is it even possible to redo everything in such a short time?”

  With a flick of her finger, Fairy Mary sent the last birdseed bead spinning across the abacus. Her calculations were complete.

  “No,” she said as the bead made a loud and final clack!

  “We were so close,” mourned the Minister of Spring. “And now it’s all gone.”

  “Who will paint the leaves now?” the Minister of Summer asked.

  “The apples and pumpkins will never grow,” the Minister of Autumn groaned.

  The Minister of Spring dabbed at his eyes. “It took months to harvest all those seeds.”

  The Minister of Winter shook her beautiful head. “Every season is going to suffer.”

  Queen Clarion and Fairy Mary said nothing at all. The situation was just too awful for words.

  Meanwhile, far below the council chamber, Tink sat alone by the Pixie Dust Well, listening to the angry voices echoing overhead.

  How had things gone so wrong so fast?

  A tear streaked down her cheek and fell into the glowing well.

  The sound of a footfall startled Tink, and she spun around. A figure emerged out of the dark. It was Terence, the handsome dust-keeper. “You okay, Tink?”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “I just came hoping to get a quick refill. I’m going away for a while.”

  “Oh? How long will you be gone?” Terence flew over to the well and dipped his ladle in.

  There was no point in lying, Tink realized. They’d all know soon enough. And she doubted anyone would try to stop her from going. “Well, actually, forever.”

  Terence was taken aback, but he tried to hide it. “Forever? Well, in that case …” He dipped his ladle extra deep and brought it up heaping with dust. “You’ll need a double scoop. Forever’s a pretty long time, so I hear.” He poured the dust over Tink’s shoulders and wings, making them glitter and shine.

  Tinker Bell smiled. “Thanks, Terence.” His were the first kind words she had heard in a while, and she felt a lump rise in her throat.

  “You know my name?” He sounded surprised.

  “Well, sure. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just a dust-keeper. Not exactly the most important fairy in Pixie Hollow.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tink replied. She was shocked to hear Terence describe himself in such lowly terms. “You’re probably the most important one there is! Without you, no one would have any magic!”

  Terence considered that for a moment and smiled. But Tink wasn’t done yet.

  “Why, your talent makes you who you are,” she went on. “You should be proud of it!”

  “I am,” Terence said, looking at Tink meaningfully.

  Tink’s mouth fell open in surprise. No, she wasn’t proud of herself right now. In fact, she was ashamed. But she wasn’t ashamed because of what her talent was, she was ashamed because … “I’d better get going,” she said quickly.

  That night, while the moonbeams played across the empty workshop of Tinkers’ Nook, Tinker Bell was still thinking about Terence’s words.

  She had been certain that the best thing she could do for Pixie Hollow was to leave.

  But what if she was wrong—again?

  Tinker Bell walked through the workshop, looking at the litter of tools, pots, kettles, and buckets. So many things to be mended. So many things to be made. So much to be done.

  Her fingers itched to take up a tool and begin working again. She smiled. How funny. After all her complaining, it turned out that she really did love tinkering.

  She felt something nuzzle her hand. “Hey, Cheese,” she said quietly. She petted his head, still looking around.

  Over in one c
orner, she spotted her useless inventions. All her shame and doubt came pouring back. “Be proud of your talent,” she muttered to herself sarcastically. “What talent? I couldn’t even get these silly things to work.”

  She turned. A beam of moonlight streaming through the window reflected off something in the other corner of the room. Intrigued, Tink went to investigate. She pulled a tarp aside and gasped. “The Lost Things!”

  Piled underneath the tarp were all the things she had found. Fairy Mary had said her treasures were rubbish, but they still fascinated Tink.

  She picked up a tiny brass screw and admired its smooth, shiny surface and its even grooves. Tink’s eyes darted back and forth between the screw and her inventions. She looked at the way the screw was made, how the spiraling threads might help fasten pieces together.

  Suddenly, she had an idea.

  Not just one idea—a bunch of ideas. Her heart started to race.

  “That’s it!” she cried.

  There wasn’t much time.

  She would have to hurry.

  It was deep into the night by the time Tink pulled her wagon up to the edge of Springtime Square. Queen Clarion and Fairy Mary came flying to the square, followed by the Ministers of the Seasons.

  All the fairies in Pixie Hollow were gathered. Many were still trying to clean up the square. Others were waiting to hear what the council had decided.

  “Attention, everyone!” Queen Clarion called out. “Attention.”

  The fairies fell silent.

  “I’m afraid I have distressing news. There is no way spring can come on time.”

  The fairies groaned, but Queen Clarion continued. “Months of work were lost, and it will take us months to restore it all. So when the Everblossom opens …” The crowd looked up at the huge flower, poised to announce the arrival of spring. “… I’m afraid we will not be going to the mainland for spring.”

  Into the stunned silence, Tink shouted, “Wait!”

  She soared out of the wagon and landed lightly in front of Queen Clarion and Fairy Mary. In her hands was her new and improved berry-paint sprayer, with a mainland-style crank.

  “I know how we can fix everything!” Tinker Bell insisted breathlessly.

  Vidia, standing among the assembled fairies, made a loud scoffing sound.

  A few fairies laughed; some murmured angrily.

  But not all of them.

  Not her friends.

  And not the tinkers.

  “Tinker Bell,” said Queen Clarion, “I don’t think this is the—”

  “Just hear me out! Please!” Tink begged. She held up her first invention.

  Tinker Bell turned to a painting fairy who stood next to an all-red ladybug. “How long does it take you to paint a ladybug?” Tink asked.

  “I don’t know,” the fairy answered. “Ten or fifteen minutes, I guess?”

  Tink aimed the berry-paint sprayer at the ladybug and fired.

  “No!” the painting fairy shouted. But to her utter amazement, the sprayer instantly painted a perfect pattern of black dots on the ladybug’s back.

  The painting fairy smiled, pleasantly surprised, as did the bug. The crowd murmured again, but this time it was with interest, not anger.

  Tink reached into her tunic and pulled out a leaf scroll covered with designs. “We can build more of these. I can show you how. Making paint, gathering seeds—we can do it all in no time!” she exclaimed. “We at least have to try!”

  The fairies peered at the designs and whispered. Hope began to lift their spirits.

  Vidia made an impatient noise and turned to the crowd of fairies. “Are we really going to listen to her? She’s the reason we’re in this mess in the first place!”

  “But I can fix it!” Tinker Bell insisted.

  Vidia snorted. “Oh, yippee!” she said sarcastically. “Tinker Bell’s going to save us with her dopey little doohickeys! Hide the squirrels!”

  Tink felt anger rising in her chest. “What is your problem, Vidia? Why do you think you’re so much better than me?”

  “I am better than you, sweetie,” Vidia shot back. “I didn’t ruin spring!”

  “At least now I’m trying to help,” Tink snapped. “Have you ever helped anyone besides yourself?”

  Vidia’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I tried to help you! Maybe I should have told you to capture the hawk instead of the Thistles!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Vidia realized her mistake.

  There was a loud gasp from the crowd as they grasped the meaning of what Vidia had just said. Chasing the Thistles had been Vidia’s idea. She had put Tink up to it, knowing that Tink was too new, and too inexperienced, to understand the danger.

  Vidia’s face turned pale. She shut her mouth with a snap and shot a nervous glance toward Queen Clarion.

  There was a hushed silence.

  Queen Clarion gave Vidia a stern and knowing look. “Perhaps Tinker Bell was not the only one responsible,” she said. “Your fast-flying talent is well suited to chasing down each and every one of the Thistles.”

  Vidia’s tightly closed mouth fell open. “Me?”

  “Yes. And I expect them all to be returned to Needlepoint Meadow as soon as possible.”

  “But … but that could take forever!” Vidia protested.

  “Then I suggest you get started,” Queen Clarion replied coolly.

  Tinker Bell watched Vidia fly away angrily.

  But Tink didn’t enjoy seeing Vidia humiliated. She couldn’t. No matter what Vidia had or hadn’t done, it was Tink who had set the disaster in motion, and it was Tink who needed to put things right.

  Queen Clarion turned to her. “Now, Tinker Bell, are you sure you can do this?” she asked.

  Tink directed her words to Queen Clarion, but she was really speaking to Clank and Bobble, her friends whose feelings she had hurt so badly. “Yes. Because I’m a tinker. It’s who I am. And tinkers fix things.”

  Clank and Bobble exchanged a happy look.

  “But I can’t do it alone!” Tink added.

  “Command us, Miss Bell!” Clank and Bobble said in unison. They flew to her side and saluted.

  Silvermist, Iridessa, Fawn, and Rosetta also rose out of the crowd and joined Clank and Bobble. “We’ll help, too!” Silvermist promised.

  “Show us how, Tink!” said Fawn.

  Rosetta’s voice was sweet again. “I’ll help you.”

  Even Iridessa glowed with excitement. “Me too!”

  Tinker Bell grinned from ear to ear, but one look at Fairy Mary’s face reminded her that there was work to be done.

  “Okay, gather up all the twigs you can, all different sizes. And twine. And tree sap. We’ll need lots of that. But most importantly …” She tried hard to avoid Fairy Mary’s eyes. She knew she was right about this. “… we need to find Lost Things.”

  The fairies searched high and low throughout Pixie Hollow. They found Lost Things everywhere, and they brought them all back to Tinker Bell for inspection.

  Tink pored over each and every one. A fork. A spoon. A hinge. A mousetrap. A fishing lure. An antique fountain pen. An old leather glove. And a strange apparatus that one of the music fairies told them was called a harmonica.

  It wasn’t long before Tink had figured out how to make a huge berry/nut squasher. The other fairies gathered around, eager to help her construct it.

  “Twig,” Tinker Bell said, holding out her hand like a surgeon demanding a scalpel.

  A nature fairy placed a twig in her waiting palm. Tink attached it to the acorn and held out her hand again. “Hammer.”

  A tinker fairy hurried to give her one. Tink used it to tap the twig into place.

  “Boingy thingy.”

  Clank pulled the spring from his pocket and gave it to Tinker Bell. She looked at it and rubbed her chin. “Actually, I need the pointy metal doohickey.”

  Bobble handed her the fork. “No. Not that one.”

  Someone else offered her the fishing lure. “Ew! Not that one.”
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  Finally, someone handed her a gear. “Yes! That one!” Tink took it and quickly tied it into place. “Magnification, please.”

  A light fairy held a pair of eyeglasses in front of the apparatus so that Tink could see it nice and big through the lenses. “And that’s how you do it,” Tink said to the crowd of fairies watching her work.

  Minutes later, they had a machine with a dozen berry/nut squashers in a row. “Put the berries in,” Tink instructed, “and we’ll have plenty of paint in no time.”

  The berry-picking fairies dumped berries into the squashers, turned the wheel, and cheered when a dozen buckets filled up with paint.

  Painting fairies poured the paint into their new and improved berry-paint sprayers and got to work painting ladybugs.

  The next big problem Tink had to tackle was cleaning up the spilled seeds. How could the fairies gather them into baskets as quickly as possible? She looked around—Aha!

  At Tink’s bidding, two fairies picked up an old work glove and followed her toward a perfume bottle. With a tweak and a twist and a shove and a tap, Tink soon had the harmonica wedged into the opening of the glove. Snip! Snip! She quickly cut off the fingertips.

  Tinker Bell attached the perfume bottle to the thumb of the glove. “You just squeeze this … ,” Tink explained. She used the rubber bulb on the perfume bottle to suck air out of the glove. That, in turn, sucked in the seeds that had been lying near the cut-off fingers.

  As the glove refilled with air, the seeds were spit out through the harmonica and into waiting baskets.

  The contraption was noisy, but it did the job. Soon a team of fairies was flying along with the device, which was busily honking and huffing and picking up seeds.

  Tink grinned. “See? Simple!”

  Iridessa applauded. “It’s working!” the light fairy cried in amazement. “It’s working!”

  Tink was thrilled. Supplies were piling up so fast, the bird carriers could hardly keep up. The Minister of Spring went through leaf scroll after leaf scroll as he listed the inventory.

  Tink spread her wings and flew up to get an aerial view of their progress. Her heart swelled. There were baskets, buckets, and bugs as far as the eye could see.