The Adventures of Starmonia

Chapter Five: Wylanda’s Ingratitude

Cloudy watched Wylanda stalk off, her hair blowing back in a light breeze, the hem of her dress flapping lazily. When she had disappeared among the thick crowd, Cloudy turned to the knight and apologized, “I’m sorry about Wylanda, Magnus. She’s quite rude to everyone she meets except for those who are in her social status lane.”

The knight bowed his head, extremely uncomfortable. Uncomfortable both with being made fun of and being the center of someone’s sympathy, which he absolutely hated. He managed a smile. “It’s okay, Cloudy. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Dang right it wasn’t her fault!” said Eloise. “Why, I bet you anything Wylanda’s parents don’t raise her right! No wonder she’s a spoiled brat!”

Sharkell tilted his head. “But if so, Eloise, why do they send her to a Christian school? Why bother to spend all that money when they could just get her into the local public school for free?”

Eloise shrugged. “I wish I knew that part of the puzzle.” She scowled angrily. “But nonetheless, Wylanda should know better than to behave so irrationally.”

Scazzarda brushed an ant off her dress. “Now, now, kids. We may not understand exactly why Wylanda acts the way she does, but the important thing is to treat her with kindness.” She shook her head a little sadly. “I think that girl may have some personality problems linked to her past.”

Cloudy frowned, her eyes thoughtful.

Star paid little attention to Scazzarda’s words. Sitting down and scratching her ear, she addressed herself directly to her friends. “Speaking of Wylanda’s parents, have you guys even seen them? They don’t like anything like Wylanda. They have dark skin, too, unlike her.”

Sniper scoffed. “So? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It might,” Star told him, briefly detaining from her ear-scratching and looking at him. “She could be adopted.”

“Or maybe her parents’ family lines are mixed,” Sniper pointed out. “Maybe one line has dark skin color and the other light.”

“Maybe.” Star sighed deeply. “But even their physical features aren’t the same. They look completely different.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s adopted,” Sniper said. Then his face lit up and he grinned. “Maybe she was kidnapped like that girl in the movie Tangled was by that creepy woman.”

“Okay, going a little too far there, Sniper,” responded Cloudy, giving him a sideways look. “But maybe Star’s right. Maybe the girl really is adopted.”

“Who cares if she is? Doesn’t give her a right to be mean, does it?” Sharkell snapped. “She should learn to be nicer to us.”

“Well, maybe we should learn to be nicer to her,” Cloudy retorted.

“Huh?!” Sniper exclaimed, completely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“We haven’t exactly been very nice to her,” Cloudy admitted. “When she said mean things to us, we reacted rudely, though some of us might not have known it. Maybe we thought we were handling the situation the way it was supposed to be handled, but that’s not the case. In hindsight, we’re really acting just as bad as she is.”

Sniper was too stunned to speak, but Sharkell asked, “What showed you we were doing that, Cloudy?”

Cloudy cast a glance at Scazzarda. “Miss Scazzarda did. It was what she said about treating Wylanda with kindness that really got me thinking, and it occurred to me that that was not what we have been doing. Rather, it was the—” She hunted for the right words. “—the polar opposite.”

“Oh. . .” Sharkell’s voice trailed off.

Sniper finally spoke. “But why should we treat someone with kindness when they’ve been so mean to us?”

“Gosh, Sniper!” Cloudy burst out, frustrated with him. She stood up straight, her tail erect and her voice loud as she glared angrily into the wide, astonished eyes of her older brother. “Even God tells us to love and treat our enemies with kindness! Don’t you ever read God’s Word?”

Sniper’s response sent a shock wave through her body: “Don’t you?”

The fire melted out of Cloudy’s eyes. She stared at Sniper, his eyes glaring defiantly into hers, his angry look communicating something to her. And she suddenly understood. Why was she bearing down on her brother for something she was guilty of as well? Jesus’ words from Matthew 7:1-5 popped into her mind:

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”

The passage was not referring to literal specks and logs, but rather sin. Two or more people who have committed the same sin cannot judge one another because they are all guilty. It was like scolding your little sister for her theft of a cookie from Mom’s cookie jar when you stole a cookie too.

Cloudy whapped her tail slowly, lost in thought, her gaze to the ground. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then looked up at Sniper. “Sniper, I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you for being mean to Wylanda. I’m guilty for being mean to her as well. Please forgive me.”

Sniper chewed his lower lip and looked at the slide, the swing, the tree house, and finally Cloudy. “Apology accepted. I forgive you,” he said softly.

Cloudy looked to the knight to see if he had any comment on this, but the realized he was gone. She blinked in surprise and quickly looked this way and that, but didn’t see him anywhere. “Miss Scazzarda?” she shouted.

“What is it, dear?”

“Where’s Magnus? He’s not here!”

“Hmm?” Scazzarda stood up and shaded her eyes from the glaring sun, looking around for her son. When she couldn’t spot him, she shrugged and sat back down in her shady spot underneath the tree house. “Oh, he probably went off by himself for a while. He does that a lot. Don’t worry about him.”

“Why does he go off by himself?” Star wondering, gazing wonderingly at Scazzarda.

“When he wants to be alone or to think.”

“What does he want to think about?” Sniper asked with a slight smirk. It was obvious he was being more than a little nosy.

Scazzarda’s tranquil expression changed to one of uneasiness and wariness. “Well, I can’t say.”

“Why not?” Arrow asked.

“You’re not old enough to understand,” was the reply.

Arrow decided not to say anything more. So did Cloudy. Both decided to trust Scazzarda’s judgment; after all, she was older and wiser. The other children looked curiously at one another, their eyes bright and puzzled, but did not speak.

“Oh, oh,” Miriam said, noticing her mother standing at the edge of the crowd and waving to her. “Looks like Mom wants me. BRB.” And like a shot, she was off and running.

“BRB?” Cloudy repeated.

“Be right back,” Scazzarda murmured sleepily, her eyes drifting closed.

“Oh.” Cloudy fell silent, watching Miriam tear through the throng as fast as she could.

* * * * *

“What?!” Miriam stared wild-eyed at her mother, her face full of shock and disbelief. “We have to leave the feast?! Why?!!”

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” Meredith said shortly. “I’m tired and dizzy and I feel sick. I just want to go home.”

Miriam caught her mother’s hand and pressed it gently to her chest. “Mom, you’re stressing yourself out too much. You need to relax.”

“Relax!” Meredith spat the word as if she had heard something unpleasant. “How can I relax if my husband is weak and injured and we’re about to be homeless?!”

Miriam was surprised beyond measure. If her mother had ever showed any lack of faith, it was now. Putting her hands on her hips and speaking sharply, Miriam retorted, “Mom, what happened to trusting God to provide for our needs?”

“Provide.” Meredith whispered the word as though it were foreign to her. “Provide?” Her eyes glazed over and she grabbed the top fence rail.

“Mom?” Miriam said, fear beginning to bubble up in her at her mother’s strange look. “Are you all right?”

“I’m. . .fine. . .” Suddenly Meredith swayed and almost fell, but Miriam caught her arm and stopped her from toppling to the ground.

“Meredith!” Springtime yelled, running toward her with Showerstorm in tow. “Are you okay?”

Meredith turned toward Springtime, her eyes devoid of any light. “No.” She sounded as if she would cry.

“Mom!”

“Meredith!”

“Here, I’ve got her,” Showerstorm said, supporting Meredith as he led her to the house to lie down. Springtime watched them go, then turned to Miriam. “Your mother will be okay, honey,” she said soothingly.

Miriam’s face was filled with worry and her eyes with tears. Her chin trembled as she whispered, “is Mom sick? Is something wrong with her?”

Springtime knelt down so that she was on eye level with the little girl. “Has your mother had these symptoms for a while?”

Miriam nodded. “Yeah, for about three weeks or so.”

“Has she vomited in the morning at all?”

Miriam nodded again, looking confused. “Why do you ask?”

Springtime grinned widely as she stood up and headed for the house. “If I’m not mistaken, Miriam,” she said over her shoulder, “you might be having a little brother or sister soon!”

Miriam stared at Springtime’s retreating back, amazed. A little brother or sister?! Did that mean a baby?!! Miriam was so happy she smiled, her heart full of gladness. She wanted to dance, jump, laugh, whoop with joy, shout the good news to everyone—but she didn’t.

“I must run to tell my friends,” she said to herself. “They’ll be amazed.” With these thoughts in mind, she sprinted excitedly in the direction of the tree house, pausing only when someone got in her way. Politely she asked them to move and was off again.

Miriam was almost to the tree house when someone stepped in front of her again. With a resigned sigh, she was about to ask the person to please move aside when she saw who it was. Her breath caught in her throat and her dark eyes grew wide.

It was Wylanda!

For a moment, the two stared each other down. Then Wylanda spoke, “Where are you going, little beggar girl?”

Miriam found herself blushing as she glanced at her worn brown dress. She was furious, about to bite back with a lashing retort, but then recalled what Scazzarda had said about treating Wylanda with kindness. “Um, hi, Wylanda,” she said, mustering up her friendliest voice. “I was just going to see my friends.”

“Why?” Wylanda sneered. “Do you have some exciting piece of news that you’re just dying to share with them?”

Miriam nodded, her face lighting up with joy. Wylanda noticed her change of expression. “As a matter of fact, I do have some exciting news, Wylanda.”

An interested expression came over Wylanda’s face. “What?” she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

“My mom’s having a baby!” Miriam announced.

Wylanda’s mouth flew wide open in shock. “What??”

“I know! I know! It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Miriam danced about happily. “I’ve always wanted a sibling and now I’ll have one! Yay! Praise God!”

Wylanda narrowed her eyes at the mention of God. “Why would God give you a sibling?” she asked in a surly tone.

Miriam’s face flushed red with anger at the rude question, but she decided to be gracious. Pasting a smile on her face, she answered,” Because God loves me!”

“God loves you?” Wylanda sounded genuinely confused. “Why would He love you?”

“Because I’m His daughter and He’s my Father.” Then Miriam stopped dancing and looked solemnly at Wylanda, and with a gentle voice said, “You could be His daughter too, Wylanda, if you would ask Him to take you in.”

Wylanda threw up her hands and rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Miriam, my own father wasn’t even reliable. Why would I ask some strange Galilean carpenter Who lived two thousand years ago to be my Father?”

Miriam frowned, pondering Wylanda’s words. “Wait. Did you just say your own dad wasn’t reliable?”

Wylanda’s eyes widened and she put her hand over her mouth, realizing she had just slipped up. “Um, never mind. That was never meant to be revealed to anyone. . .”

Miriam’s eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, Wylanda. You were adopted, weren’t you?”

Wylanda didn’t answer.

“Your biological parents probably did something to you and you were taken from them and sent to an orphanage. Is that right?”

There was silence. Then Wylanda answered faintly, “I never wanted anyone to know.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were adopted?”

“Because you all come from good homes and I don’t want to be noted as the outcast,” Wylanda snapped. “Okay? My parents left me on the sidewalk when I was born because they didn’t want a girl, for goodness’ sake! My neighbor took me to the orphanage and two years later, I was adopted by Mother and Father Coven. They’ve taken care of me ever since.”

Miriam felt sorry for Wylanda for the first time. “Unfortunately, you’re not alone in that situation. Most kids are adopted, Wylanda.”

Wylanda’s face was taut with bitterness. “If God really loved me, I don’t think He would allow me to go through such a thing as that, would He? Am I some kind of stranger to Him because I was adopted?”

Miriam shook her head. “No. No one is a stranger to God, Wylanda. He made everyone and everything; He knows all their names. He created the sun, moon, stars, planets, galaxies, animals, and everything else you could think of! But He didn’t just create the universe and then sit back to let it run on its own. No, He cared for His creation. He still is caring for it, in fact, and will until the end of the age. Wylanda, God is the most trustworthy Person in existence.”

“I thought God died,” Wylanda said. “He died on the cross many years ago.”

Miriam stoutly nodded her head. “Oh, He died, all right. He died for you and me. He took everyone’s sins on His shoulders and drank every drop of His Father’s wrath so we wouldn’t have to. But He’s not dead anymore,” she proclaimed. “He rose from the grave three days after He was crucified and conquered death and sin!” Her eyes bright, she asked, “Do you believe that, Wylanda?”

Wyladan raised an eyebrow and tapped her forehead thoughtfully, carefully thinking of her words. “I mean. . .yeah, I believe in God. I believe He’s real and He’s divine and that He died on the cross and that He’s three people in one—Father, Son, and Spirit.” She hesitated a moment, as if uncertain of something.

Miriam prodded, “So what do you not believe?”

Wylanda acted a bit startled by the question, but answered, “Well, I don’t believe that God loves everyone like some Christians say he does. I mean, like, what about those with bad backgrounds and incredibly evil pasts? Why in the world would God want anything to do with them? I also do not believe He rose from the dead. If He really is alive, he should be caring for and protecting His creation, and from what I’ve seen, that’s not the case. There’s so much evil in the world and hardly any good, you know. If I were God, I wouldn’t allow anything terrible to happen.”

Miriam nodded, though she was slightly puzzled by Wylanda’s views of the world. “Can you explain why you believe what you do?”

Wylanda scratched her head and looked at her freshly painted fingernails. “Um. . .well, I mean, from what my old public school teachers taught me, the Bible is not a Book to be taken literally. You have to use your brain and decide which parts are reliable and which parts that weren’t mean to be taken literally. . .” He voice trailed off as she noticed Miriam staring at her.

“But Wylanda,” Miriam insisted, spreading out her hands, “if you don’t believe certain parts of the Bible, why believe any part of it?”

Wylanda didn’t know how to answer. “Are you trying to be smart with me?” she angrily demanded.

“No,” Miriam said, shaking her head. “I’m trying to get you to think.” She took a deep breath and rushed on. “You see, Wylanda, the Bible lines up with history and the world today perfectly. Everything is in line with what the Bible says. Prophecies from the Bible have been and are being fulfilled even today.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to believe everything the Bible says,” Wylanda muttered. “Not unless you can prove to me it’s trustworthy.”

Miriam frowned, but pressed on. “Okay, think of this: If one part of the Bible isn’t trustworthy, should any part be trusted?”

Wylanda just looked at her.

“Or think of this: Why would you believe in something that’s not fully trustworthy?”

Wylanda still didn’t reply. She couldn’t answer the young girl’s questions adequately. “I don’t know,” she said finally, “and I don’t care. The point is, I really don’t want anything to do with all that religion. It’s a waste of time.”

Miriam crossed her arms and got right up in Wylanda’s face, causing her to back away a few steps. “Wylanda, I will say this: Christianity is not a religion. Christianity is trusting in God for salvation and asking Him to be your Lord and Savior. Once that happens, He now governs your life. Now religion—that is working your way to salvation through good works.”

Wylanda blinked, nonplussed for a minute, but she snapped back, “Still, I don’t want to answer to Jesus for everything I ever do. If I’m not saved, I don’t have to go to Him all the time and repent of my wrongdoings, nor do I have to bother with being sure to spend time with Him. I’d rather not do that.”

“Everyone’s going to answer to Jesus one day whether they want to or not,” Miriam retorted. “If you’re saved, you go to heaven. If not, you go to hell. It’s as simple as that. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks—God knows each individual person’s heart and knows whether they are saved or not. Don’t think anyone can run from God, because they can’t. Everyone will either go to one of two places—heaven or hell. Your choice.”

Wylanda’s eyes grew wide as she witnessed Miriam—three years younger than herself—boldly proclaiming the truth to her. For some unknown reason, that made Wylanda feel very small and cowardly, but she couldn’t tell why.

\Wylanda opened her mouth, about to speak, but then shut it her and said quietly, “Okay, then. I get that.” She brushed a grasshopper off her dress and straightened a lock of her hair, then looked at the ground. “Um, please tell me, Miriam, how God can want anything to do with evil people.”

Miriam studied the girl, wondering if she truly wanted to know or was just looking for an excuse to mock her. But there was nothing mocking or sarcastic in Wylanda’s looks.

“Everyone is evil, Wylanda,” Miriam explained. “We’re all born sinners. There’s no pick-and-choose method when it comes to who’s evil and who’s not. Romans 3:23 says, ‘For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.’ All sin and deserve to go to hell.” She sighed heavily and sadly shook her head. “It all goes back to the Garden of Eden. The world was originally a perfect place, where men and God could talk and be together in perfect harmony. But when Eve ate of the fruit from the tree which Go forbade her to eat from, the fellowship between God and man was broken. God hates sin and can’t look upon it.”

“The why didn’t God stop Eve from disobeying?” Wylanda asked.

Miriam shrugged. “He could have, but then Eve would have been a robot, forced to do what God wanted her to.”

“But I thought God wanted us to do right.”

“He does, but He won’t force us to do so,” Miriam said. “He gives us a choice to do what’s right or wrong. And as Christians, we should want to please God and strive to be like Him. That’s not to say we won’t ever mess up, okay, because we will. We’re not perfect. We still have a sin nature. But God is merciful and will forgive us if we go to Him and repent.”

Miriam felt a thrill run through her. She was actually ministering to someone about God! This was possibly the best thing to happen to her next to her conversion.

“Okay, I get it,” Wylanda said softly. “But what about those with awful backgrounds, like mine?”

“God loves those kinds of people too!” The smallest smile worked its way across Miriam’s face. “But even though there are those who have been brutally abused or have messed up, God doesn’t care. He cares nothing about the past, creed, or ethnicity of someone. All He wants is for all to come to Him and be His children.”

Wylanda nodded understandingly. “I get that.” Then she frowned. “But, um, I have another question.”

“Uh-huh?”

“ Why does God have to send us to hell for committing some small sins, such as lying or stealing something? Our sins are small compared to eternity, so why does He judge us so harshly? I mean, I don’t really think the punishment fits the crime.”

Miriam looked off in the distance and chewed her lip, trying to think of a way to explain the answer to Wylanda. “Okay.” She faced Wylanda again. “Think of this scenario: Suppose a heartless murderer took only one minute to strangle a young child, okay?” Seeing Wylanda’s disgusted expression, she hastened to add, “Sorry if this sounds graphic, but bear with me. Suppose it took only a minute to kill this young girl. Now here’s the question: Would you put him in prison for the same amount of time it took to commit the crime?”

Wylanda shook her head. “No.”

“That’s right. Now picture this: Say this same murderer kills the king of Dreamland, and it takes only thirty seconds. Would you put him in prison for that same length of time in which he was able to murder the king?”

Again Wylanda said no.

“But why not?” Miriam inquired innocently.

“Because that’s not serving justice!” Wylanda protested. “A murderer who kills a king deserves to be put in prison for life, not a few seconds! Justice needs to be served, and the only way to obtain justice is for the murderer to serve a punishment proportionate to the crime he committed.”

“That’s correct,” Miriam said. “Time in prison for assaulting someone depends on the status of the person, right? And killing the king would definitely be at the top of the list.”

“But what does this have to do with my question?”

“God is the Ruler of Creation. He is majestic, wonderful, and awesome. He is above every earthly king or emperor. And sinning against Him requires a very heavy price to pay, which is death. We deserve to die, both physically and spiritually. Therefore, Wylanda, God is indeed giving us a just punishment.”

Wylanda folded her arms. “Who taught you all of this, Miriam?”

“My mother!” Miriam sang.

Wylanda looked surprised, then confused, and last of all troubled, but said nothing. She just glanced at Miriam and then walked off without another word. Miriam watched her go, wondering what was going on in that mind of hers. Then the seven-year-old took to her heels and ran off toward the tree house.

* * * * *

“Guys! Hey, guys!” Cloudy was roused by Miriam’s excited voice and opened her eyes. She had been taking a lovely nap next to Scazzarda in the shade. Now she stretched, got up, and ambled her way over to her friends.

“Oh, Miriam!” Arrow called, waving a paw. “Hi! What did your mom want you for?”

Miriam was practically wriggling with excitement as she plopped down next to Star. She leaned forward, her eyes bright with joy as she said in a stage whisper, “My mom’s having a baby!”

“What!” the children chorused.

“It’s true! My mom’s pregnant!”

“Congratulations,” came a Spanish-accented voice from the top of a nearby tree. Startled, Miriam looked up and saw the knight standing there, his cape drawn about himself. “Having a baby is always exciting. My daughter is having one nerself.”

“You have a daughter?” asked Cloudy. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Miriam thought the knight’s voice seemed a little sad as he said the words, and she wondered why. However, she was too afraid to ask.

Arrow cleared his throat loudly, causing everyone to turn to toward him. H too had sensed the knight’s unhappy mood and wanted to change the subject. “I, for one, absolutely can’t wait for the feast tonight,” he said. “Miss Springtime says we get to stand up and say what we’re thankful for.”

“And I suppose you’re thankful for this bunch of losers,” came an all-too-familiar voice from behind Star. Arrow gasped softly and the knight visibly tensed. Miriam slowly turned her head and saw Wylanda standing there, her brown eyes dark and intimidating.

“Uhhhh. . .” Miriam was a loss for words.

“What do you want?” Sharkell asked coolly. “We’re trying to have a private conversation here.”

“It won’t be so private once you say it at the dinner table tonight.” Wylanda laughed as if she had just heard the funniest joke on the planet. “You’re talking about what you’re thankful for, aren’t you?”

That was Miriam’s chance. “Yes, Wylanda. Why don’t you join us?”

“What?!” Lily roared. “She’s a brat!”

“No way is she sitting with us! She insulted us and called us losers!” Nika chimed in.

“Okay, that is quite. . .” Scazzarda began, but Wylanda cut her off.

“Oh, be quiet, old grandma.” Back to the children. “I wouldn’t join you guys for the world. Besides, why would I? I don’t have anything to be thankful for.”

“Huh?” Cloudy blinked a few times, completely astounded. “But of course you do!”

“Yeah? Like what?” Wylanda smirked. “Tell me, Prophesied One!”

Cloudy’s mind was spinning with all sorts of things Wylanda could be thankful for. “Well, for one, what about your big mansion and your jewels and your fancy dresses?”

Wylanda suddenly acted very uncomfortable. “I. . .No, I-I don’t. . .”

“What’s the matter, Wylanda? Cat got your tongue?” Sniper asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Wylanda bit her lip. “I. . .I meant that those things don’t make me happy,” she rushed to explain.

“I’m not in the least bit surprised,” Eloise muttered under her breath. “If you don’t have God, you’re not gonna be happy with anything.”

“What about your parents?” Cloudy queried. “Aren’t you grateful for them?”

Wylanda answered defiantly, “No, I’m not grateful for them. They’re so fussy and overprotective of me and won’t let me go anywhere without an adult except for school. They’re stupid, religious, holier-than-thou Christians who make me read my Bible and pray with them every day. Every day, they tell me I need to accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. I’m sick of it.”

That surprised Cloudy in more ways than one. She had no idea that Wylanda’s parents were Christians.

But Scazzarda was horrified. “Why, Wylanda Coven!” she exclaimed. “How can you say such awful things about your parents? They love you and try so hard to raise you right.”

“What do I care?” Wylanda shot back. “They can love me, but I don’t love them.”

The children were speechless. The knight, feeling anger and sorrow rising in him, suppressed it with all his strength. But Eloise was thoroughly fed up with Wylanda’s verbal abuse. She stood up and shrieked loudly at Wylanda, causing her to recoil. “I’ve had it with you, Wylanda Coven! I will not put up your insults and complaints any longer! You have no clue what it means to love, you spoiled, rotten girl! You’re a huge loser! You make fun of everyone and laugh at others that are less fortunate than you! You make them feel unappreciated and unloved! Well, guess what? If you show hate to others, I’m going to show hate right back to you!”

“Eloise!” Nika cried. “Eloise, what about the Golden R—”

“No!” Eloise yelled at her little sister. She was so enraged she was shaking. “I don’t give a lick about the Golden Rule anymore! If Wylanda wants to spread hate around, I’ll shove it right back in her face!” Turning back to Wylanda, she continued, “You’ve made others feel miserable for far too long, Wylanda! Now I’m gonna make you feel a million times worse! You’re stupid, you’re ugly, you’re an idiot, and I can’t stand being around you! I’m surprised anyone could! You want to know my honest opinion on you? Well, too bad if you don’t, because here it is: You don’t deserve any love! You. . .are. . . hated!”

“Eloise!” Cloudy screamed at the top of her lungs. “Stop it right now!!”

Eloise stopped yelling and looked at her friend, who was staring at her as if she were a crazy person who had escaped a mental institution. Suddenly realizing what she had done, Eloise gasped and sank to the ground, guilt flooding her through. What had she done? Why had she said such terrible things?

The entire crowd had heard the heated speech and were staring, shocked, at Eloise and Wylanda. Even Mrs. Coven was there, her gaze disapproving as she glared at Eloise with contempt. There was no sound but the whooshing of the wind and the rustle of leaves.

Eloise and Wylanda looked at each other for the longest time, but neither one spoke. Wylanda’s look was one of fright and hurt as she stared with wild eyes at the other girl. Eloise knew she had upset Wylanda with her unkind words and neede to apologize for that. She stood up and said softly, “Um, Wylanda, I. . .”

“No!” Wylanda exclaimed, backing away. Her eyes were full of terror. “Don’t-Don’t you dare come near me!”

“But I want to. . .”

“Get away from me!” With those words, Wylanda took off for the house and disappeared among the crowd. Oddly, Mrs. Coven did not try to stop her.

Cloudy, her eyes narrowed, knew that the time had come to have a calm, serious talk with Wylanda. The longer this unrest went on, the worse things would get with her. With these thoughts in her head, Cloudy started off toward the house.

“Cloudy, where are you going?” Arrow called as she started to walk off.

“To talk to Wylanda,” Cloudy replied without turning around.

“What? Are you joking?” Star inquired. “That girl hates you! She wouldn’t listen to you for anything!”

“Well, I’m going to try,” Cloudy said firmly, a determined and fierce glint in her eye. “Lord knows what Wylanda’s going through. I believe He’s calling me to talk to her.”