“You have to have a heart to change it,” Sabrina grumbled.
“Are you coming with us?” Daphne asked her uncle.
“Not this time, peanut. I’ve got plans with Briar Rose.”
“Another day of holding hands and smooching?” Daphne asked.
Uncle Jake smiled. “If I play my cards right.”
Breakfast was never a pleasant experience for Sabrina. Granny Relda’s cooking left a lot to be desired. Many of her signature dishes included roots and grubs, flowers and weeds, milk from unusual animals, and tree bark, all in heavy, bubbling sauces. But that morning her appetite was ruined not by her grandmother’s culinary disasters but by a pig-snouted creature sitting on the table like an ugly centerpiece. It had beady red eyes, enormous blisters all over its face, and a long, blue forked tail it used to swat the flies that circled its melon-shaped head.
“I suppose you’re part of the security team,” Sabrina said to the creature.
It nodded and puffed up its chest proudly. “I’m a poison sniffer, I am. My job is to sniff out anything that might kill ya before you put it in your gob, if it pleases you, miss.”
“My gob?”
“Your pie-hole, your chowder box, your mouth,” it said as it wiped its runny nose on its hairy arm. “I’m going to take a snort of every bite. Puck’s orders.”
“Lovely,” Sabrina said sarcastically.
Granny rushed into the room carrying a sizzling pan and a spatula. She flipped something that looked like a pink burrito onto Sabrina’s plate.
“What is this?” Sabrina asked as she poked at her breakfast. She was sure that if she poked hard enough it would squeal.
“It’s gristle and ham wrapped around heavy whipping cream. People love this in the Czech Republic,” Granny said as she rushed back into the kitchen.
“People must be very unhappy in the Czech Republic if this is what they love to eat,” Sabrina said. She leaned over to smell her breakfast, then eyed the ugly creature. “I’ll give you five bucks if you tell my grandmother this is poisoned.”
The creature shook its head. “I cannot be bought.”
Granny rushed back into the room with a pitcher and poured some glowing red juice into Sabrina’s glass.
“Your sister has something planned for all of us,” the old woman said, gesturing at Daphne’s empty chair. “She told me that today she is going to be a totally different person.”
“She’s going to start eating with a fork?” Sabrina asked.
“Don’t tease her. She’s got it into her head that she needs to grow up. When she comes down, try to treat her like an adult,” the widow said.
Sabrina cocked an eyebrow. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Just then, Daphne stepped into the room. Sabrina turned to face her and nearly fell out of her chair. Gone were the goofy T-shirts covered with puppets and cartoons, the blue-jean overalls, the mismatched socks. Daphne was wearing a blue dress Granny had bought Sabrina for special occasions. Her hair was combed straight rather than in her usual ratty pigtails, exactly the way Sabrina wore her own hair. Plus, the little girl was wearing lip gloss. She sat at the table, placed her napkin in her lap, and nodded at her sister and grandmother. “I hope everyone slept well.”
It was several moments before Sabrina realized her jaw was hanging open. “Is this some kind of joke?” she cried.
Daphne frowned, as did Granny Relda.
“Does it look like a joke?” Daphne snapped, then did something that made Sabrina’s blood boil. Daphne turned to her grandmother and rolled her eyes impatiently. How dare she?
“So, I hear we have some appointments this morning, Grandmother,” Daphne said.
Granny chuckled but managed not to burst into laughter. “Yes, indeed. I need the two of you to hurry with breakfast. We’re going downtown.”
“How?” Daphne said. “Uncle Jacob is spending the day with Briar.”
“Good question. We all know it’s a federal offense for you to get behind the wheel of a car,” Sabrina said to her grandmother. “And if you think we’re getting into Rip Van Winkle’s cab again you’ve lost your mind.” She shuddered, recalling the hair-raising ride with the narcoleptic taxi driver.
“Oh, no. We’re taking the flying carpet,” Granny explained.
“Sweet! I call shotgun!” Daphne cried, but then quickly controlled herself. “I mean, that will be pleasant.”
Then it was Sabrina’s turn to roll her eyes.