“Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She was very smart and loved to learn more than anything else in the world. The little girl was the best student at her school and surpassed her classmates in every subject they studied. Unfortunately, the other students became jealous of the little girl and were intimidated by her. Instead of praising her intelligence, the children teased and bullied her for being so smart. They wouldn’t play with her on the playground or eat lunch with her in the cafeteria, and the little girl became very lonely.”
Alex saw her brother running across the third level of the platform. She zapped him with another burst of light and he collapsed. However, when she went to check on him, she found Jack lying on the floor instead.
“Whenever the little girl felt sad, she would read a new book from the library. The characters in the stories became her friends, inspiring the little girl to read as much as she could. The more she read, the smarter the little girl became. And the smarter she became, the more people resented her for it.”
Conner appeared on the bottom level of the platform. He leaped over the railing and landed on the level above. Alex blasted her brother with a beam of light and discovered that he was actually Froggy. This time the curse didn’t even break so she could check on him—it knew the game Conner was playing.
“By the time the little girl was a young woman, she was the leader of a faraway kingdom. The young woman’s passion for knowledge made her a very wise ruler, and the mistreatment she experienced as a child made her sympathetic to her people’s needs. Unfortunately, the young woman’s superior leadership intimidated the adults in her life. They became envious of her abilities and made her life difficult whenever they could.”
Conner popped up from behind a satellite dish. Alex struck her brother with another burst of light and Charlotte collapsed on the floor.
“Since there always seemed to be consequences for the young woman’s good qualities, she gravely feared the consequences of a bad quality. So the young woman held herself to an unhealthy level of perfectionism and never allowed herself to make a mistake. It was hard enough being resented without reason—she couldn’t imagine how difficult the world would be if she gave it a reason to hate her.”
Alex saw Conner skipping across the platform above her. She hit him with a ray of light and Red rolled onto the roof.
“One day the adults in the young woman’s life created a plan to exploit her abilities for themselves. They put a terrible curse on her that caused the young woman to feel and do awful things at their command. Even though she was being forced against her will, the young woman was such a perfectionist, she blamed herself for every terrible act she committed. She was so ashamed, she asked a loved one to take her life, believing it was the only way to end her suffering.”
Conner suddenly peeked out from behind the Freedom Tower’s antenna. Alex hit her brother with a powerful ray of light and he transformed into Cornelius.
“But it wasn’t the young woman’s fault for thinking this way. You see, no one ever told her it was okay to make mistakes. No one told her there was nothing wrong with needing help. No one told her it was normal to feel upset, or angry, or overwhelmed now and then. Everyone in her life took her perfectionism for granted and didn’t realize how suffocating it was. And because no one gave the young woman permission to be human, she thought she was a failure for being one.”
Alex spotted Conner doing a handstand on a radio antenna. She hit him with another blast of light and Emerelda tumbled to the floor.
“You are that young woman, Alex! People have made you feel bad for being accomplished, and now that you’re cursed, it feels like it’s the end of the world! You’re so used to being in control, you think you’ve disappointed everyone by being vulnerable to something you can’t control! But the only thing that would ever disappoint us is if you gave up fighting! So I won’t let this curse be the end of you! I know you can save yourself from it if you just cut yourself some slack!”
Suddenly, her brother’s binder of short stories slid between Alex’s feet. The real Conner jumped out from hiding and wrapped his arms around her.
“But if I can’t convince you, I know someone who will!”
Conner dropped the flask of Portal Potion and it shattered across the binder’s pages. A beam of light shot up and the Bailey twins disappeared into the most important story Conner had ever written….
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A SPECULATION STORY
The twins entered the bright and endless world of the Portal Potion. The story Conner had written was so short that it didn’t take long for his handwriting to take shape and form the world he’d created. He’d written the story so quickly, there hadn’t been time to include much detail. All that materialized in the empty space around them was a very familiar white door.
Alex’s eyes stopped glowing, her hair stopped floating above her head, and she looked around the story in a daze.
“I… I… I feel normal,” she said. “Conner, you broke the curse! How did you make it go away?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not over yet,” Conner explained. “You’re still cursed—it just can’t affect you in this story. I wrote about a world where curses don’t exist.”
“It’s nice to have a clear head again—even if it’s only temporary,” Alex said. “If we don’t find a way to break the curse, I should just stay here. What kind of story is this?”
It was difficult for Conner to describe it. “It’s sort of a speculation piece,” he said. “I wrote a story about what our lives might be like if… well, if we’d never had a reason to move out of our old house.”
His sister’s eyes grew wide when she realized what he was implying.
“You mean…” she said, but couldn’t finish her thought.
Conner sighed. “Maybe,” he said. “Let’s go inside and find out.”
The twins went through the white door and stepped into the living room of their old house. At first glance the room was exactly the way they remembered it, but as they walked farther into the house, they noticed a few subtle changes. All the photos in the picture frames had been changed to current ones of their family. There were pictures of birthday parties, family vacations, holiday trips, and embarrassing school portraits. Even though the twins were present in each photo, Alex and Conner didn’t remember any of the memories on display.
“It’s like an alternate reality,” Alex said. “Look, this school picture is me in the ninth grade—but I was already living in the fairy-tale world by then.”
“Maybe we never discovered the Land of Stories,” Conner said. “If we had stayed in this house, maybe Grandma wouldn’t have had a reason to give us her storybook—if you know what I mean.”
Alex absolutely knew what her brother meant and nodded. Suddenly, the sound of clanking pots and pans came from the next room—the twins weren’t alone. They walked down the hall and peered into the kitchen, and both froze in the doorway when they laid eyes on the person making the noise.
“Daddy,” Alex gasped.
It wasn’t until she said the word that Alex realized how long it had been since she had last said it. The twins’ father, John Bailey, was standing just a few feet away from them behind the kitchen counter. He wore an apron covered in flour and was in the middle of mixing ingredients in a large bowl. The twins noticed that their father was slightly older than their memory of him; his hair had started to gray around his temples and his crow’s-feet were more pronounced than they used to be.
“Hi, guys!” their father said. “You’re just in time. I know we promised your mom we’d try eating less sugar, but I left work with the biggest craving for chocolate chip cookies. I’m going to need help eating them before she gets home.”
He looked at his children with a smile they hadn’t seen in four years. Seeing their father again made Alex so happy, she cried harder than she had ever cried in her life. The tears of joy washed away all the specks of magic dust in her eyes, the warmth in her heart d
isintegrated all the magic dust in her lungs, and every trace of the witches’ curse was erased from her body. Their father had barely said a word and had already done exactly what Conner had hoped he would. Even though it was only a story, Conner couldn’t help becoming emotional himself. The person he had missed every day since he was eleven years old was standing right in front of him—how could he not be moved to tears?
John was very surprised to see the tears running down their faces. He wiped his hands on a washcloth and stepped out from behind the kitchen counter to take a closer look at them.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked. “Did something happen at school today?”
“No,” Conner answered. “We just really missed you—that’s all.”
“It’s so good to see you again.” Alex sniffled.
The twins gave their father the biggest hug physically possible and cried some more into his shoulders. John eyed the twins suspiciously. Even in Conner’s fictional world, John knew his children better than anyone.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he asked. “I’d love to hear what’s on your minds.”
“Well, Alex had a rough day,” Conner said. “Some girls at school were really cruel to her. They made her feel bad and do some stuff she regrets. And even though it wasn’t her fault, she won’t stop blaming herself for what happened.”
“Oh, really?” John asked. “Well, if it wasn’t your fault, why is it troubling you so much?”
Alex shrugged. “Even though I didn’t intentionally hurt anyone, people still got hurt because of me. I didn’t know I was capable of so much damage. It’s changed how I look at myself.”
John dried his daughter’s tears with the edge of his apron.
“Well, the good news is it’s never too late to rewrite your own story,” he said. “If you feel like something is wrong, there’s always a chance to make things right, no matter who’s to blame. But you should never feel responsible for other people’s choices. That’s too big a burden for anyone to carry.”
“I know,” Alex said. “I just always want to be doing my best—I hate looking back and feeling like I could have done better.”
“But, sweetheart, that’s how we grow,” John said with a laugh. “What makes you think you have to be so perfect?”
“I suppose it goes back to the stories you used to read us,” Alex said. “You raised us to believe that if someone is kind, generous, and responsible, they’ll have a happily ever after. So ever since I was a kid, I tried my hardest to be one of those people. I thought being perfect was the only way I could guarantee a happy ending.
“But now that I’m older, I realize life isn’t a fairy tale. And no matter how much work you put into it, happily ever after doesn’t exist.”
Of all the things his daughter had said so far, this concerned John the most. He took Alex by the hands, sat her at the kitchen table, and had a seat beside her.
“Sweetheart, happily ever after does exist, it’s just not what you think,” he said. “Happily ever after isn’t a solution to life’s problems or a guarantee that life will be easy; it’s a promise we make ourselves to always live our best lives, despite whatever circumstance comes our way. When we focus on joy in times of heartbreak, when we choose to laugh on the days it’s hard to smile, and when we count our blessings over our losses—that’s what a true happily ever after is all about. You don’t get there by being perfect; on the contrary, it’s our humanity that guides us. And that’s what fairy tales have been trying to teach us all along.”
“But what about death?” Conner asked. “How do you keep living a happily ever after when you lose someone you love?”
“Now you’re troubled over something you can’t control,” John said. “The only power we have over death is how we choose to define it. Personally, when someone dies, I don’t believe they cease to exist. The people we love the most will always be alive, thanks to the stories we tell and the memories we share. As long as we keep our loved ones in our hearts, their pulse will continue to beat through our own.”
The twins knew their father was telling them the truth. If death was the end to a soul’s existence, then how could he be sitting in front of them giving this advice? Conner barely had time to write the setting of the story—his father’s words of wisdom weren’t coming from his imagination.
“Well, I hope that was helpful,” John said. “Are there any other questions I can answer for you?”
There were millions of questions Alex and Conner wanted to ask him. However, instead of taking the moment to ask him anything, the twins were both compelled to tell him something.
“I just want to say I love you, Daddy,” Alex said. “With all my heart.”
“Me too, Dad,” Conner said. “And always will.”
John was very amused by his teenagers’ loving behavior, but the sentiments touched his heart nonetheless.
“I love you guys, too,” he said. “And don’t worry, I’ll always be right here, whenever you need me.”
A soft rumble came from another part of the house. The twins didn’t recognize it at first but eventually remembered it was the sound of the garage door opening.
“I guess your mom got off work early,” John said. “We are so busted! Quick, help me put away the cookie dough before she comes inside!”
Their father quickly got to his feet and ran back behind the kitchen counter. Strangely, the rumbling of the garage door never stopped. It became louder and louder, and soon the whole house was vibrating strongly. Object by object, the twins’ former home turned back into the words in Conner’s story.
“What’s happening?” Alex asked.
“The story must be over,” Conner said. “I’ve never seen it do this before, but I’ve never written something so short, either! We’ve got to get out of here!”
“I don’t want to leave,” Alex said.
“If we don’t get out of here, we’ll end with the story,” Conner warned her. “It’s a rule of the Portal Potion!”
Conner grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled his sister out of her chair. Only after their father dematerialized into Conner’s handwriting did Alex let him pull her away. The twins raced through the sitting room and out the front door and dived through the beam of light emitted by Conner’s story. The twins landed back on the roof of the Freedom Tower, and the beam shining out of Conner’s binder disappeared.
“Well, that was an emotional roller coaster,” Conner said. “How do you feel?”
Alex was surprised by her answer. “Actually, I feel pretty good,” she said. “I think a few moments with Dad was exactly what I needed. Thanks for coming to my rescue, Conner. You really are the best brother in the world.”
“I know,” Conner teased. “But you were worth the trouble.”
The twins helped each other to their feet and walked to the edge of the roof. Now that the curse was broken, the magical vines had stopped destroying the city. Manhattan was covered in so many plants, the city looked like an enormous green grid.
“Wow,” Alex said. “Did I really do all this?”
“Well, it certainly isn’t my mess,” Conner said.
“I barely remember any of it,” she said. “I can’t imagine how upset all the New Yorkers must be.”
“Before you start writing apology notes, we should think of a way to clean it up,” her brother said. “Everyone in the world is going to know about the fairy-tale world after this.”
Alex sighed. “Gosh, I wish there were a way to just put everyone to sleep and erase their memories,” she said. “It’d sure help me deal with all the guilt.”
“Well, why not?” Conner said. “It’s kind of brilliant, actually.”
“Do you really think it’s possible?” Alex asked him.
For the first time in more than a week, Conner laughed. “Alex, you just destroyed New York City in your sleep,” he said. “I think you’re capable of doing anything you set your mind to.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A
PRESIDENTIAL SURPRISE
In the residential suite at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, President Katherine Walker awoke in the middle of the night from a bizarre nightmare. She had dreamed that New York City was under attack by an army of fictional characters. The invasion became so extreme that she was forced to order the evacuation, and eventually the annihilation, of the greatest city in the world. The president sighed with relief when she realized it had only been a dream, but there was something incredibly unsettling about how real the dream felt.
President Walker decided to take a walk to calm her thoughts. She quietly climbed out of bed, careful not to wake the First Gentleman, and snuck out of the residential suite. The president wandered through the long halls of the White House in her slippers and bathrobe, but it was hard to take her mind off all the disturbing images she’d seen in the dream.
Also concerning was how empty 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue seemed. She was used to seeing the Secret Service and staff strolling through the halls at all hours of the night, but for reasons unknown to her, the White House was completely empty.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is someone there?”
All the president heard was the echo of her own voice. She searched the library, the State Dining Room, the Diplomatic Reception Room, and even the China Room, but she didn’t find a soul. Finally, she heard people whispering and followed the sound all the way into the West Wing.
The voices appeared to be coming from inside the Oval Office, so the president gently cracked open the door and peeked inside. She saw a pretty young woman seated on the sofa and a curious young man inspecting the president’s desk.
“Conner, what are you doing?” the young woman said.
“I’m looking for the red button,” he said.
“What red button?”
“You know, the president’s red button!” the young man said, like it was obvious. “The one they’re always talking about in the movies that launches all the nuclear weapons.”