The Queen's Riddle: A Faery Story

Poppy Loves Sweet Tart Soup: Part 1

**AN EARLY UPLOAD FOR THOSE FANS WHO HAVE BEEN SO SUPPORTIVE!!**

Poppy Loves Sweet Tart Soup: PART 1

“My imagination will get me a passport to hell one day.” – John Steinbeck

Nora brushed back her long hair with a swoop of her hand, gazing out the window at the line of trees that surrounded the property. Taking a deep breath of country air, she watched as the tiny papers scattered out of sight, blown into a gully. An eerie calm settled over her as she studied the forest. Trees always had a way of soothing her nerves; there was peace when you were near them.

Pine Ridge, Indiana was one of her favorite places to live when she was bouncing around different foster homes. Now, she was back. The fresh air was what she loved the most. She could think when she was away from the city fumes, one of the many upsides to not living with Dee in Indianapolis. She would never forget when Dee took her back to the city. It was like she could smell the iron in the air, burning her lungs. But the real reason she liked Pine Ridge was because that’s where Poppy first appeared.

A smile tugged on Nora’s lips, remembering Poppy, the tiny friend who used to visit her when no one else wanted to be around. The adventures that they would have down by the creek in the woods came back---hunting for robin’s eggs, searching for multicolored stones in the creek, building tiny houses out of moss and leaves, and listening to stories of warring courts.

Her teachers all said Poppy was the result of an overactive imagination, but Nora would swear that she was real. Now, at sixteen, Nora wasn’t so sure what she saw when she was a child. Maybe Poppy was just make-believe, something a friend-starved little girl made up to comfort herself. After all, magical things don’t exist. The world was cruel and full of backstabbers and liars and mothers who left their children in parking lots. Where was room for magic in any of that?

Besides, at sixteen you aren’t supposed to believe in things like faeries. And you definitely shouldn’t believe that one actually visited you when you were little and claimed to be your best friend. Nora tried to tell herself these logical things, but being in Pine Ridge brought the memories back in a flash.

After all, Poppy had been the only steady thing in her life as she moved from home to home. Together they’d make fun of the girls who talked behind Nora’s back and pulled her hair on the first day at a new school. Poppy would call those mean girls lazy or dumb, giving her a riddle to solve to prove how clever she really was. Poppy was like her mini-defender, plumping up her confidence when needed and consoling her tears. She was her best friend. Imaginary or not.

So what if her best friend happened to be the size of a Barbie doll and had wings? Poppy could be trusted. Which made her the most reliable person in Nora’s life. When Poppy said she’d show up she would. When Nora called for her, pretty soon she’d be fluttering outside her window, rapping on the window. But then, one day, everything changed.

Dee decided to it was time to take Nora back. The court agreed, saying Dee was now a “fit mother,” which basically meant Dee had taken a few court-ordered parenting classes and was now the manager at Pizza Hut. Nora was dragged back to the city and Poppy disappeared.

Nora had tried to call Poppy back but was always met with deafening silence. She remembered how she used to cry at night, thinking that she had been abandoned again. A part of Nora, the part she liked to pretend didn’t exist, was still hurt by it. Still wanting her friend to accept her and say she was sorry for ignoring her all of those years.

But faeries probably had certain unbreakable rules, like you had to be pure of heart to see them or only the most innocent were selected to stumble upon them in the woods. And Nora knew she wasn’t so pure anymore. She had convinced herself Poppy wasn’t real, that she was imaginary, that it was all one wild idea created by an unloved little girl. Besides, sometimes it’s easier to believe a wonderful thing never happened, than to acknowledge the pain of missing it.

Nora smiled; allowing herself just a few more minutes of sweet remembering.

Maybe it’s not too late, Nora thought, feeling slightly foolish. What could it hurt to try and bring Poppy back just one last time? For her own sanity, she needed to prove once and for all, if Poppy was real or make-believe.

There has be something else I can do, she thought.

A smile spread across her face as she remembered mixing crushed up sweet tarts into bowls of milk and leaving it by the window to lure her friend to play. Poppy could never resist it.

Sweet tart soup would be the ultimate test. If Poppy didn’t come back for that, Nora could put her friend firmly in the realm of childhood imagination. But first, she had to try to bring Poppy back, just one last time.

I’ll just see what’s in the kitchen, she thought, feeling childish that she still half-heartedly believed in fantasy creatures.

Nora glanced at the clock, 10:08 p.m.

Good, hopefully everyone will be asleep, she thought.

She tiptoed out into the hallway, careful not to wake any one who might be sleeping. The hall lights were off but that didn’t matter, Nora could always see far in the dark. The stairs creaked under her feet as she headed downstairs and made a right into the kitchen.

The fridge was covered with children’s drawings and several report cards. A smirk tugged at the corner of Nora’s mouth. Hanging pictures on the fridge was more than Dee ever done for Nora. She tugged at the fridge handle as a blast of icy cold air met her face. The glaring light made her squint as she scanned the contents of the fridge. Reaching for a jug of milk in the far corner, she spotted a jar of candy sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Pixie Stix. She’ll love those,” Nora said as she shut the fridge and put the milk down on the counter. She popped the lid off of the candy jar and grabbed a handful of Pixie Sticks, disappointed that she didn’t see any sweet tarts. .

“Bowls ... Where would you be?” Nora muttered to herself as she started opening cabinets, hating that she had to go through the actions of getting used to a new home again. She spotted a purple plastic bowl and reached for it.

Carefully, Nora poured the bowl half full of milk and then emptied the Pixie Stix into the dish, watching as the milk began to look tie-dyed with blue, green, and pink colors. “Perfect,” Nora said, pleased with the colorful treat.

Holding the bowl in front of her and trying not to splash the contents on the stairs she tiptoed back up to her bedroom. She opened her window and set the bowl out on the ledge. “Pops ... I made you sweet tart soup. Well, it’s Pixie Stix soup but same thing. You always wanted to try those, remember? You said they were named after you.”

Seeing no sign of movement, Nora curled up in the bed and threw the covers over her, making sure to leave the window open in case Poppy wanted to come inside. Then she fell into a fitful sleep.