I shrugged. “All I know is that Bob is real,” I said. “I do not know why or how. But you saw him yourselves.”
No one looked convinced.
“Attention, people,” said Ms. Colman. “Please save your conversations for after class. Right now I would like you to write two paragraphs about anything you like. Please write neatly and remember to put your name at the top of the paper. I will collect your papers in twenty minutes.”
Hmm. I thought. Two paragraphs about anything I want?
Some Wishes Do Not Come True
The unicorn had done a good job on the math test and my phone call from Maxie. But he was being slow about my other wishes. I had wished for a chance to see the unicorn again. So far that had not come true. Mommy and Seth were too busy looking for a new workshop to take me to the circus. I could not go by myself.
And Seth had not found a new workshop. Every day Seth and Mommy checked the newspapers. They talked to people who rent buildings. They talked to their friends. They could not find a space that would work. At home it seemed as if all they talked about was the workshop. I was very tired of worrying about the workshop.
My last wish — that Andrew would either learn to ride a two-wheeler or give up — had not been granted yet either. On Friday afternoon Andrew put on his helmet and protective pads again. We went outside. It was cool and cloudy. Wind was blowing leaves off the trees. It looked very autumny. I wished I was inside watching TV with a cup of hot chocolate.
“Okay,” said Andrew. “I am ready to get on.”
I held the bike while he climbed up. Mommy had already lowered the seat and the handlebars as far as they would go. But it was still difficult for Andrew to reach the pedals.
“This time I want you to hold on the whole time,” said Andrew.
“Andrew, I cannot,” I said. “Once you start pedaling, I cannot run fast enough to keep up.”
“I will pedal slowly.”
“If you pedal slowly, it is harder to keep your balance,” I said.
Andrew bit his lip, then nodded.
He stood up on the pedals and started pedaling. I trotted in back of him, holding him up. Soon he built up speed. He was not going gigundoly fast, but I had to let go. I hoped he would not notice.
“Pedal! Pedal!” I cried, running in back of him.
And he did! He pedaled hard. He was riding! He was riding a two-wheeler all by himself! But then he hit a crack in the sidewalk. He lost his balance. The bike tipped over, and Andrew fell and slid along the sidewalk. He and the bike slid right under our neighbor’s bush.
“Andrew! Andrew! Are you all right?” I pulled the bike off of him. Then I helped Andrew sit up. His pants were torn from sliding on the sidewalk. His hand was scraped. He was about to cry.
“I am tired of crashing,” he said. He sniffled and wiped his eyes. “I hate crashing.”
“I do not blame you,” I said, putting my arm around him. “It is scary to crash. But you are trying very hard.” I waited a moment. “Andrew, do you think maybe — ”
“No!” he said. “I know I can do this. I will never ride my tricycle again.”
I just nodded. I know what it is like to have your heart set on something. All the same, I really, really hoped that Bob would do something about Andrew’s bike-riding wish.
* * *
“There is a place over in Ryebrook,” said Seth that night at dinner. “It is almost big enough. And the rent is about right.”
“Ryebrook is almost forty-five minutes away,” said Mommy. “We would have to leave early and come home late. We would have a very long commute.”
I dipped a french fry in ketchup and ate it. This is what dinnertime sounded like every day now.
Seth sighed. “I know. But I do not know what else to do. I cannot find anything in Stoneybrook.”
Mommy sighed.
Andrew sighed.
I sighed. Bob, I thought, hurry up. We are depending on you.
Wishing Again
That night after dinner I lay on my bed with my feet propped against the wall. That is a good position to think in. I had a lot to think about.
It had been ten days since I made my wishes at the circus. I had tried to help Bob along. I had worn my special unicorn charm necklace all the time (even in the bathtub). I had truly believed.
But now I was worried. Only two wishes had come true. Ten days was plenty long enough for the other wishes. Even if Bob were really busy. What was I going to do?
I thought about how all the kids in Ms. Colman’s class (even Hannie and Nancy) thought Bob was just a horse with a glued-on horn. Mommy and Seth probably thought so too. What if they were right? Then I shook my head. No. It was impossible. I had seen the unicorn with my own two eyes. He had been real, I could tell. He was not fake.
Maybe he just needed reminding. Maybe so many wishes had been wished at Bob that a few had gotten lost. I decided to make my wishes again. I closed my eyes and held my unicorn charm with both hands.
“Bob,” I whispered, “I wish I knew your special secret unicorn name. But you know who you are. This is Karen Brewer, wishing again. My family needs your help. Please grant these wishes. One, I would like to see you again somehow. Two, please help Andrew with his bike. Three, please help Seth with his workshop. Thank you very much.”
I lay with my eyes closed for a few more minutes, wishing hard. Then the phone rang, and I sat up. I heard Mommy answer the phone. I hoped it would be for me, but it was not. (A phone call would have cheered me up.)
“Oh, I see,” I heard Mommy say. “Yes, I understand.”
I opened the door to my room.
“Well, that would be very nice,” said Mommy. “I am sure the kids would be thrilled…. Great…. Thank you.” Then she hung up.
I poked my head out the door and looked at Mommy. She smiled at me.
“That was your father,” she said. “He and Elizabeth were given some tickets to the circus for the big-house family. But now they can’t use them. So he offered us four tickets for Sunday. Would you like that?”
“Yes!” I shouted, jumping up and down. “Yes!”
“That is what I thought,” said Mommy. “It will be a nice treat for all of us.”
I jumped up and down until Mommy asked me to simmer down. But I could not stop jumping completely. I would see the unicorn again. One more wish had come true!
Little-House Circus
On Sunday I wore my special unicorn sweatshirt again. I put on my pink leggings, and white socks and sneakers. And, of course, I wore my unicorn charm necklace. I was all ready for the Circus DeMarco.
Our seats were in a middle row. The tent was not too big, so we could see everything. Mommy bought Andrew and me some caramel popcorn and a drink. Then the lights went out and the circus began.
Andrew and I had already been to the circus, of course. But Mommy and Seth had not. I was glad to see them smiling and happy. They had not been smiling much lately.
The show was the same as before. But it was still very exciting. I remembered when I went to circus camp, I had learned how to do some acrobatic tricks, how to juggle, and how to walk on a tightrope. They are all harder than they look.
I could not wait to see the unicorn again. I decided to make my last two wishes one more time, as soon as he came out, even though I would not be very close. Maybe I could try to get closer to him after the show. Was I being too pushy, making my wishes again? I was not sure. I just wanted Bob to hear me. The wishes were very important to my family.
Bob was the last act. The beautiful maiden led him into the ring. Magical sparkly glitter floated down from the tent roof. The spotlight made Bob gleam like sunshine on snow.
I tapped Mommy’s hand. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
“Yes, he certainly is,” said Mommy.
Bob performed his act very well. Then the ringmaster asked for questions. This time I did not yell out anything. I did not need to ask if he was real, because I knew he was. Other people asked questions,
and Bob answered yes or no. One boy asked which football team was going to win the game next weekend, but of course Bob could not answer that.
Then the maiden led the unicorn out of the ring. The lights came back on. The show was over. It had been wonderful, even though I had seen it before.
“That was lovely,” said Mommy. “I am very glad we came.”
“It was the best circus I have seen in a long time,” said Seth.
“Maybe you could set up a circus tent in our yard,” said Andrew. “A little one. Then you could have your workshop there.”
Seth laughed and ruffled Andrew’s hair. “Thank you for the idea,” he said. “It might be too cold in the winter, though.”
“Oh. I did not think of that,” said Andrew.
“Mommy, I need to see the unicorn up close again,” I said. “Can we go to the other tent?”
“I am sorry, honey,” said Mommy. “That was a special tour just for your school. We are not allowed to go there today.”
“I really need to see him,” I said.
“I am sorry, sweetie,” said Mommy.
We shuffled forward with all the other people. Then I had an idea.
“Mommy, I need to use the rest room,” I whispered.
“The lines are very long,” said Mommy. “Can you wait till we get home?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I really, really need to go now.”
Outside were two portable toilets. One for boys and one for girls. Seth and Andrew got into the boys’ line. (Andrew had to go too.) Mommy and I got into the girls’ line. We waited for a long time. The line was right next to the little tent where Bob’s stall was. I kept trying to see into the tent, but the flaps were closed.
“Do you want to go first?” asked Mommy when it was our turn.
“No, you can go first,” I told her.
“Okay. Please stay right here,” said Mommy. “Do not go anywhere else. Do not take your hand off the door. It is very crowded, and I do not want to lose you.”
“Okay,” I said.
As soon as Mommy closed the little door, I stooped down and pulled up the edge of the tent. (I was not disobeying Mommy since I was still touching the door.) I got on my hands and knees and peered inside the tent. I saw Bob!
Is Bob Real?
Bob was with the beautiful maiden. (She was wearing another running suit.) Quickly I sent my wishes in his direction. He did not look over at me.
The maiden unbuckled Bob’s fancy sequined circus costume. She lifted it off his back and hung it on a hook. Then she took off his sparkly bridle and hung that on another hook. Bob shook his head, as if he were glad it was gone.
Then the maiden took out a currycomb and ran it down his side. (A currycomb is a special comb just for horses. I know all about ponies and horses because I went to sleepaway pony camp last summer.) Bob seemed to like being groomed. He reached for a mouthful of fresh hay.
The maiden talked to Bob, but I could not hear what she was saying. She reached up to his forehead and put her hand around the base of his horn. The horn almost seemed to wobble!
I gasped. Quickly the maiden looked up and saw me. She did not seem angry. She took her hand down and shook her finger at me, but she was smiling.
“You should not be there,” she called. “Our unicorn needs his rest.” She reached out and stroked his horn. She scratched his forehead. The horn did not wobble at all. Bob ate another mouthful of hay.
“Karen! Karen,” I heard Mommy say. She patted my back.
I crawled backward from under the tent flap.
“You should not be doing that,” Mommy said firmly. “It is your turn in the toilet. Please go quickly. Seth and Andrew are waiting.”
“Mommy, I thought I saw — ” I began. Then I stopped. What had I seen? I thought maybe the horn had wobbled a little bit. As if the maiden were about to … take it off somehow. But was she? Afterward it had looked as steady as ever. And I could not see how it was attached. Maybe Bob had nodded his head, and it had looked as if the horn were wobbling.
I just did not know.
“If you are going to go, go now,” said Mommy. “Other people are waiting.”
I stepped into the portable toilet.
* * *
“Thank you for taking us to the circus,” said Andrew. We were in the backseat of the car, on our way home. “It was great. Maybe I will be in a circus when I grow up.”
“Be sure to thank your father for the tickets,” said Mommy. “You may call him when we get home.”
“Okay,” said Andrew. He started humming circus music under his breath.
I sat and looked out the window. I was still not sure what I had seen. The maiden had touched Bob’s horn and scratched his forehead. His horn had not looked wobbly when she did that. Bob had still looked quite real. And three of my five wishes had come true.
I reached up to tap my charm necklace.
It was gone!
I felt all around my neck. I patted my sweatshirt, in case the necklace had fallen and gotten stuck in it. I checked my seat. I looked on the floor of the car.
“Boo and bullfrogs!” I said. “I have lost my charm necklace!”
What to Believe?
My necklace was gone for good. Mommy and Seth and Andrew helped me search the house, but we could not find it. I remembered wearing it to the circus. It must have fallen off there.
Losing my necklace seemed like a bad sign. I still believed in unicorns, but was Bob a unicorn? Or was he just a horse in disguise? How could I be sure? I could not take him to a stream and dip his horn into it. That was the only unicorn test I knew.
I did not tell anyone what I had seen (or thought I had seen) at the circus. I did not feel like talking about it with anyone.
On Wednesday during library hour I returned my book about Princess Rosamund and her unicorn. I saw another book about unicorns, but I did not want to read it. Instead I checked out a book about Sally Ride, the first American woman in space.
Then I had an idea. Ms. Colman was the best, smartest, most gigundoly wonderful teacher in the world. I trusted her.
“Ms. Colman?” I said. (I remembered to use my very quiet indoors-in-the-library voice.) “Do you believe in unicorns?” I held my breath.
Ms. Colman put down the book she was reading. She tapped her finger against her chin. “Well, Karen,” she said. “I have to say that I do not believe that unicorns truly exist today.”
“Oh,” I said. I looked down at my feet.
“However, there are many, many things that no one is sure about,” she continued. “For example, dinosaurs. Two hundred years ago, if you told someone that dinosaurs used to exist, they would not have believed you. But now we know for sure that they did exist. New things, new creatures, are discovered all the time. Just because there is no proof of something does not mean it absolutely cannot exist. Scientists are surprised all the time. That is one of the wonderful things about science. And it is one reason why life is exciting.”
Ms. Colman smiled at me and patted my shoulder. “I think you need to make up your own mind about unicorns,” she said. “The idea of unicorns is very beautiful and very special. You can decide for yourself.”
I smiled back at Ms. Colman. “Thank you,” I said. Now do you see why I think Ms. Colman is the most wonderful teacher ever?
* * *
I felt better after my talk with Ms. Colman. But I was still unsure. If Bob were not real, what would happen to my last two wishes? What would Seth and Mommy do? Did this mean I had to worry about them all over again? What if Andrew never learned to ride that stupid bike? My family needed help.
That afternoon Andrew came into my room. He was wearing his bike-riding equipment. I did not feel like helping him. I had too much on my mind.
“Karen?” he said. “I am ready to try again.”
“Andrew, you are only four going on five.” I flopped back on my bed. “I really think you are too young to ride a two-wheeler. No one rides a two-wheeler until they
are at least six.”
Andrew frowned. “That is not true,” he said. “I know I can do it. Please help me.”
“Maybe next year you can try again.” I turned my back on him.
Andrew was quiet for a minute. Then I heard him sniffle. I frowned into my pillow. I hoped he would go away.
“Karen,” he said. “I know I can ride a bike. I know I can. You are my sister. You have to believe in me.” He sniffled again.
I thought about what he said. Andrew and I were brother and sister forever. It was my job as a big sister to believe in him.
I rolled over. I sat up. I put my hand on his shoulder. He was wiping his eyes. “Andrew,” I said, “today is the day. You are right. I can feel it. I feel that Bob has granted my wish, and that you will go out there and ride that bike. Are you ready?”
Andrew smiled and nodded. He sniffled up the last of his tears.
“Okay, then,” I said. “Let’s go out there and do it. Bob will help you. I know he will.”
I decided then that I believed in Bob, no matter what. Just like I believed in Andrew.
Andrew’s Ride
Outside it was a little chilly. Andrew was wearing a sweatshirt. I hoped it would help protect him. Lately he had been covered with scratches.
“Okay, now,” I said. “Remember everything I told you. Pedal hard. Steer the front wheel. Keep to the sidewalk. Do not look back.”
“Okay,” said Andrew. He tightened the strap of his bike helmet. He looked very determined.
I held the bike while he climbed on. He put his feet on the pedals.
“I am ready,” he said.
“Okay, then. You can do it. I believe in you.”
Andrew looked at me and grinned, then faced forward and began pedaling. He stood up on the pedals to get going. I ran in back of him, holding the bike with both hands.
Soon he was going too fast for me to keep up with him. I let go. Andrew kept going! He was riding by himself! I put my hands over my mouth, waiting for him to crash. He passed the big oak tree. He passed the holly hedges on our neighbors’ lawn (they always scratched a lot).