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The least upsetting thing was almost getting hit by the cab because *almost* getting hit meant *not* getting hit and, besides, who made it to teenagerhood in New York City without getting almost pancaked by a cab at least once?
The more upsetting thing was seeing her six-year-old self in the cab–and not just in the "Guys, put the baby photos away" kind of way. There was a sense of cosmic off-ness–a feeling of not quite deja-vu that made Morgan's head pound terribly as this new memory elbowed up against the existing one in her head where her teenaged self *hadn't* suddenly appeared in front of the cab she was traveling in with her dad post-karate practice.
The most upsetting thing was the wand disappearing. The wand that she maybe, sorta was using without permission because sure, she was settling in at Monroeville but that didn't mean she wasn't nostalgic sometimes. And OK, yeah, after the whole Monrolasia debacle a few months back, maybe she should have known better than to make a sloppily worded, off the cuff wish. But she'd just wanted to see a happy memory. She thought the wand would conjure up something like the memory blossoms on Giselle's memory tree, not initiate time travel. Why could the wand even *do* time travel? Wasn't that more sci-fi than fantasy?
But it all happened so fast that Morgan didn't really have the time to process it neatly. It was more a mess of appearing and honking and head aching and scrambling out of the way before poof. The wand was gone and so was the cab. And then, from above her, she heard a familiar voice.
"Hello? Can you *please* open the door?"
She looked up and there was Giselle, exactly how she'd looked the first time Morgan had spotted her–fresh out of Andalasia and dripping wet in her ridiculously poofy wedding dress that would never make it down the aisle as she pounded on the door of a castle's facade.
But I didn't spot her , Morgan realized, horror dawning on her. She knew how this was supposed to go. Little her was supposed to see Giselle on the castle billboard and then race over to get a better look, forcing her dad to chase after her and then voila. Adorable meet cute that was the whole reason she was here because OK, yeah, when she wasn't deep in her teenaged grumpiness, she could admit that it was maybe the cutest thing she'd ever seen and she loved that she got to take credit for it except now little Morgan had been too busy watching *big* Morgan teleport into the middle of the road and almost get hit by a car to notice the princess on the billboard and the cab had driven away.
Morgan's mind quickly filled in the blanks: no meet cute, no Mom Giselle, no Queen Nancy, no baby sister, no overpowered Andalasian birthday wand from the royal godparents. *That's* why the wand had vanished.
For a moment, Morgan just stared into the middle distance. In the past for less than thirty seconds and she'd already Back to the Future'd herself. How was that even possible? Well, not Back to the Future exactly. Giselle wasn't her bio Mom and she was already born. She wasn't in danger of disappearing like Marty had been. But the thought didn't make her feel much better. She hated the thought of a world where Giselle wasn't her mom. And Sofia very much *was* blood related to her mom which meant the Marty factor was still in play, even if it wasn't her existence on the line. Not to mention the fact that the wand was her ticket back to her own time.
Morgan shook her head and took a deep breath which smelled like a combination of rain, pizza, and garbage. She could fix this. She could fix this. She was a New Yorker in her element. She could fix this.
She cupped her hands–ready to yell up at Giselle–before remembering that in round one of this, yelling up at her had caused her to lose her footing and, this time, there wasn't a grown adult to break her fall. That would be a cruddy introduction to reality , Morgan thought. Welcome to New York. Boom, broken leg!
But she couldn't see how Giselle had gotten up there without slipping, especially with everything so slick with rain. It had to be all that time she'd spent in the woods climbing trees with animals. But Morgan *hadn't* spent her formative years playing out the plot of Tarzan so she was pretty sure that if she tried to go up and get Giselle, they would both just end up with broken legs.
That gave her an idea though. She scanned the street looking for any signs of animal life. A pigeon would have been ideal but it was too late for that. And there didn't seem to be any rats hanging around. She sighed as she spotted movement in a small pile of loose trash. Ugh, roaches it was then. She bent down and cleared her throat.
"Um, hey." The roach stood up on its back two sets of legs–something that never got less weird no matter how many times Morgan saw it. "Yeah, hi. Quick favor. Can you go up there and tell that lady I want to talk to her but to be careful coming down because it's slippery?" Post Monralasia, Morgan had found that she'd gotten a bit better with animals. Maybe it was a side effect of the couple of hours she'd spent princess-brained or maybe she'd worked enough of the angst out of her system to get back in touch with all things Andalasian. Whatever the reason, the roach was very happy to deliver her message once she gave it the cracker crumbs from her jacket pocket (she'd been helping feed Sofia earlier in the day).
Morgan hated to be reminded that roaches could fly for some Godforsaken reason, but today, it was working in her favor. The winged messenger went up and Giselle nimbly came down, looking relieved as she spotted Morgan.
"Hello!" she said brightly. "My little friend said you wanted to talk to me?" She fondly rubbed the antennae of the roach that was now riding on one of her very poofy shoulders. "It's nice to meet you! My name is–"
"Giselle," Morgan blurted out. "Yeah, I know."
Giselle cocked her head. "You know me?"
Yes! Obviously, I know you Mom! Morgan wanted to scream, but she knew she couldn't. Not that Giselle wouldn't believe her if she told the full truth. Hell, Giselle might be the only person trusting enough to take her crazy story at face value. But she knew that if Giselle walked up to her dad, as secure in the knowledge that he was her true love as she'd been about Edward, it would be game over before it even started. He'd probably call the psych ward or get a restraining order.
So instead she said, "It's a long story but yeah. I know you. And I know you're looking for your prince. Edward, right?"
Giselle brightened, her voice pitching an octave in excitement. "Yes! Oh, I knew there had to be kind people here." She grabbed Morgan's hands, clasping them between her own. "Please. Can you help me get back to Andalasia? I'm supposed to be getting married but there was a well and I fell a long, long way and now, well, I'm not sure at all where I am but I really must be getting home."
"I know the feeling," Morgan muttered under her breath, before squeezing Giselle's hands. "OK, this is gonna sound weird but you can't go straight back to Andalasia. But! I can promise you Edward *will* come for you. I can't explain how I know exactly but I can take you somewhere where he'll find you for sure."
Now Giselle looked, well not suspicious exactly–Morgan didn't think she'd figured out suspicious yet. But it was a curious kind of confusion. "You know so much about me. And you won't tell me how you know it. Why–?" Giselle gasped. "Oh! Oh, I know who you are! And it would explain why I feel so connected to you."
Morgan's heart skipped a beat. "You do? How—?"
"You must be my fairy godmother!"
Morgan blinked. She blinked again.
"Uh, yup. You got me. I was going incognito but I'm totally your fairy godmother. Uh, fairy godmother in training. Usually we're older but I, uh, took a bunch of AP classes so I got my learner’s permit early." If any of that sounded off to Giselle, she didn't show it. She simply beamed with excitement.
"Oh, wow! My fairy godmother!" She curtsied politely, and Morgan had to stifle a snort. "It's such an honor to meet you! Although…I don't mean to be a bother but can't you just use your wand to send me back to Andalasia?"
"Ah, yeah, so here's the thing. I usually could but my wand is kind of MIA right now so we're gonna have to do this with a few extra steps." She put a hand on the shoulder where the roach wasn't and looked Giselle square in the eyes with all the confidence she could muster. "But I promise you. If you listen to me, you will end up with your prince, OK?"
There was not a trace of doubt in Giselle's eyes. "OK."
"Great. And I hope you're as good at running in that dress as you are at climbing in it because we are on a time crunch here."
It was a simple plan. If they were to have any hope of getting things back on track, Giselle *had* to get into their apartment that night which meant they *had* to beat the taxi to their apartment. Morgan was sure that if her young self saw Giselle sleeping on the stoop of their apartment, she would throw a fit until her dad let her inside. She trusted Giselle to take it from there but it was her job to get her in position.
She knew that the cab would hit a bad stretch of traffic in a few blocks so they had juuuust enough time to make it if they got lucky with the subway and hustled. Morgan still remembered the route like the back of her hand and, luckily, the station was practically empty, giving Giselle plenty of room to move without the skirt of her dress becoming an issue. Unfortunately, when Morgan tapped her phone against the turnstile to pay and nothing happened, she was reminded that it was 2007 and the original iPhone had only been out for a month, tops.
"Oh, come on." There were ticket vending machines off to the side, but she didn't have cash on her and there was an officer on duty, watching for fare evaders. She turned to Giselle. "Can you get me some rats?"
Giselle obliged, singing the sweet, three step melody she always did to call animals. The tracks began to rumble and, for a moment, Morgan thought they were going to miss their train.
And then the rats appeared.
It was like that one story–The Pied Piper. Morgan knew the subway was swarming with rats, but usually they were smart enough to only show their faces one or two at a time. By the looks of it, this was every rat in the subway system, coming for them like a brown, furry tidal wave. The cop yelped and bolted up the stairs, two at a time.
"OK, wow," Morgan said. "I was just gonna ask them to find some loose change but I guess that works too." The station rumbled again and, this time, she saw the bright lights of the 1 train coming down the tracks. She flashed a thumbs up to the assorted rats. "Great job guys! We owe you one! Come on Mo–I mean Giselle!" She hopped the turnstile and helped Giselle over without explaining that they were breaking the law a tiny bit. She had enough to worry about already.
As the Subway doors closed with them successfully inside, Morgan heaved a sigh. They had a couple of blocks to rest before they had to run again. That meant it was time to explain part two of the plan to Giselle.
She grabbed Giselle's hands to make sure she was paying full attention–she knew how tactile her mom tended to be. "Alright, this is the important part so listen up. When we get off the Subway, we’re gonna go a couple blocks until we see a building with the number 440 on it. When we get there, you're going to sit down and try to sleep."
"And then Edward will find me?"
"Uh, not right away." How could she put this in terms Giselle would understand? "Someone is going to find you. He's, um, kind of like a...prince under a curse."
Giselle covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh dear! Is there any way to help him?"
Morgan smirked. "Don't worry. He's gonna be fine. Both of you are. Just know that he's nicer than he's gonna come across at first. And he has a daughter. She'll convince him to help you."
"Oh! A little princess!"
Morgan’s smirk softened into a smile. "Ha. Well, not quite but she'll really like it if you call her that."
Giselle spent the rest of the ride gushing about Edward and it was a little weird to hear her mom talk about the “dreamy” eyes of a man who was practically her uncle but Morgan didn’t stop her. She’d get there on her own and, in the meantime, weirdness aside, it was so…well it was so Giselle. The bright eyes, excited voice, and all around earnestness. This was the energy she was going to inject into their lives, changing everything for the better. She was about to become one of the most important people in her life and she didn’t even know it. Emotion welled up in Morgan. This was just so…so…
Giselle reached out and touched her face. “Oh. Is something wrong? You’re crying.”
Morgan sniffed and shook her head, “No, no. Don’t worry. Happy tears. I’m just really excited for you.”
Soon, they reached their stop. It was usually a ten-ish minute walk from the Subway but, running, they made it in five. Morgan felt absolutely sapped of energy, at least until her right hand tingled and the wishing wand reappeared in her grasp.
A shot of adrenaline spiked through her veins. If the wand was back that meant that things were back on track! Which meant that she needed to get the hell out of Dodge before she accidentally screwed things up again.
“Your wand!” Giselle said in delight when she noticed the shower of sparks that had heralded its appearance.
“Yup,” said Morgan. “My cue to leave. All on you now but trust me, you’re gonna do great.”
Giselle swept her into a grateful hug. “This has been such a confusing experience but you’ve been so sweet and so kind. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me.”
Ditto , Morgan thought but didn’t say.
Over Giselle’s shoulder, she spotted the lights of a cab coming down the street. The cab that she and her dad were in. Morgan quickly broke the hug.
“Listen, I have to go, but I promise I’m gonna be here helping you and rooting for you the whole time, even if you don’t see it. Just trust in yourself and stuff, OK?” She gave Giselle one last, quick smile and then waved the wand. “I wish I was back home with my mom.”
It was a wish she knew the wand would always grant without any hint of misinterpretation.
Moments later, she was back in her room. She pulled out her phone and checked the photos just to be safe. When she saw that Mom, Dad, and Sofia were all accounted for, she sighed with relief, putting the wand back in the drawer she’d swiped it from before finding her mom in the kitchen pouring cake batter into a metal baking tin.
Giselle heard footsteps and turned, smiling when she saw who it was. “Morgan!” She offered Morgan the batter covered spoon to lick which she took happily.
After a few licks she said, “Mom? Will you help me make a scrapbook?”
Giselle gave a delighted gasp. “Oh, of course! Is it for school or–?”
“Nah,” said Morgan. “I’m just feeling nostalgic and I’m looking for a less dangerous way to walk down memory lane.”
At that, Giselle paused, looking at Morgan with the same curiously confused expression that her younger self had worn. “What does that–?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Morgan said, wrapping up her mom in a hug. The last one had been over way too soon and she was determined to properly finish it, even if it was fifteen years later. “I’m just really glad you’re here.”