Daisy Dreamer and the World of Make-Believe Read online

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1: The Magic Door

  Chapter 2: The World of Make-Believe

  Chapter 3: Andever

  Chapter 4: The Game Plan

  Chapter 5: Moonstur Hollow

  Chapter 6: Land of the Pretty Pixies

  Chapter 7: The Golly Ghost Town

  Chapter 8: Forest Friends

  Chapter 9: Star Bright Lake

  Chapter 10: Spiraling

  ‘Sparkle Fairies and the Imaginaries’ Excerpt

  For Boop and the Bearios

  —G. S.

  The Magic Door

  Is this really true? Is this really happening to me? Am I, Daisy Dreamer, actually going to visit an imaginary world . . . ?

  “Are you ready, Daisy?” asks Posey, my very real imaginary friend.

  I think hard. But only for one second, because do I want to see a world full of magical stuff? You better believe I do!

  “YES!” I shout and jump, jump, jump for joy. Obviously. “But how do we get there?”

  Now, I have been to lots of places in my life. I’ve been to my grandma Upsy’s house, and I went to the aquarium on our first-grade field trip. I’ve even had a sleepover at my best friend Lily’s house! But I’ve never been someplace imaginary.

  Posey doesn’t answer my question. He’s too busy going through my stuff. So how do you get to an imaginary place? I ask myself. Do you have to wear magic shoes? Or fly on a winged hippopotamus? Or take a hot-air balloon?

  Then WHACK! A sock hits me in the side of the head.

  “OW!” I say, even though it doesn’t really hurt.

  Then WHOOSH! I duck out of the way of my hairbrush just in time. Hey, that WOULD have hurt! I say to myself, and I shield my head with one hand.

  “What do you think you’re DOING?!” I shout as things continue to fly across my room. Posey is pulling stuff out of my drawers. There goes a doll . . . and a shoe . . . and a . . .

  “What’s this?” Posey asks. He’s holding up a pair of my underwear!

  “Hey, put those DOWN!” I shout. “That is so embarrassing!” Obviously. Then I stomp toward Posey. “That’s enough!” I say. “I’m drawing the line!”

  Posey stops and looks up. “No, I’m drawing the line,” he replies. “But I need something to draw it with!”

  “Huh?” I say. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m looking for a mark maker,” Posey says, digging through my dresser drawers. “We need to draw a magic mark to get to the World of Make-Believe, but I can’t find anything to draw with!”

  “You mean like a marker or a pen?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says. “One of those things that squeaks when you draw things!”

  “Like this?” I pull a marker out of my desk drawer. It’s the only place in my room he hasn’t completely messed up yet.

  “Perfect!” Posey says as I hand it to him. He pops off the top and goes straight for my wall.

  “Whoa, back up, imaginary friend!” I shout—and just in time. Posey is about to draw on my wall! “You can’t do that. I’ll get in so much trouble!”

  Posey folds his arms and taps one foot. “Look, if you really want to go to the World of Make-Believe, then we’re going to need a door. Obviously.”

  I feel my cheeks grow hot. Is it my imagination, or did Posey just sound like me?

  “Okay,” I say. “Then at least use this pen. It’s totally erasable.” I hand him a purple pen.

  Then Posey draws a door on my wall and tosses the pen behind him onto the floor. “Are you ready now?” he asks.

  “Hmm, not dressed like this!” I say. “The World of Make-Believe deserves a totally new outfit because it’s a totally new place!”

  Then I hurry-rush to the bathroom wondering what could be behind Posey’s drawn door.

  The World of Make-Believe

  Now I am so ready!

  Or, at least, I think I’m ready. Come to think of it, I’m a little worried. I gnaw the back of my thumb.

  “It—it is almost dinnertime, you know,” I say, stammering. “Won’t my mom and dad worry if I suddenly disappear?” I swallow hard. “Maybe we shouldn’t go.”

  Posey waves me off. “Not to worry!” he says. “No one will even know you’re gone. Time in the World of Make-Believe is imaginary, so it takes no real time at all. Plus, when someone wants you back, all they have to do is call your name.”

  It sounds safe enough, so I stick both thumbs up. “In that case . . . RACE YOU TO THE DOOR!”

  Posey runs, but I grab hold of the knob first. One turn, and SWOOSH! My bedroom is gone!

  Instead, we’re standing on a RAINBOW ROAD! It’s bouncy, like a trampoline. Now I know we’re in the World of Make-Believe.

  “Come on!” says Posey. “Let me show you around!”

  He grabs my hand, and . . . Boing! Boing! We begin to bounce down the road. By golly, we’re bouncing over the rainbow! And everything looks different here. The grass is blue! The sky is yellow! And the flowers are lollipops. I stop and pick one. It’s blue raspberry! I lick it and look up to the sky. Fluffy multicolored clouds float by like cotton candy. They are shaped like animals: lions, bears, horses, and dogs!

  Then I notice a pearl-colored unicorn cloud. It’s peeking out from behind an elephant cloud. The unicorn hides when I look at it.

  Hey, I think that unicorn cloud is spying on me!

  Andever

  “It is spying on me!” I shout, pointing to the sky.

  Posey looks up and smiles. “Oh, that’s a Cloud Critter,” he says. “They’re animals formed by clouds.”

  Posey whistles as the cloud unicorn begins to drift toward us. “I think she may want something. Cloud Critters rarely come down from the sky.”

  I watch the pearly unicorn float to the ground. She gets smaller and smaller the closer she comes! When she lands, we’re basically the same size. Then the unicorn looks me over and snorts like a horse.

  “Where did you come from?” she asks me in a very sassy voice. If Upsy were here, she would say that this Cloud Critter has “attitude.”

  “Me?” I say, pointing to myself. “I came from the real world.” Obviously. I’m a little surprised to be talking to a cloud unicorn.

  The unicorn shakes her misty mane and takes a step back. “I’ve heard of the Real World,” she says. “But I never knew it really existed.”

  Then she stares at me like I’m something magical. And I stare back because she is something magical. Then she nudges my hair, so I touch her shimmering coat. It feels cool and airy, just like a cloud. She nickers softly.

  Posey clears his throat to get our attention. “Andever, this is my imaginary friend, Daisy,” he says. “Daisy, this is Andever.”

  Whoa, I think to myself. Posey has it all backward. I stop and correct him. “I’m not your imaginary friend,” I say firmly. “You are my imaginary friend.”

  Posey laughs. “Well, that might be true in your world, but in my world, I’m the normal one.”

  I scrunch up my face and think about it. Posey may have a point there. Could I really be the imaginary friend? That’s weird, but I like it.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I finally say.

  Andever gives me a thoughtful head nod.

  “So, what brings you down from the sky, Andever?” Posey asks. “Is everything all right?”

  Andever shakes her wispy mane. “No,” she says sadly. “I’ve lost something very dear to me.”

  Posey and I look at each other.

  “What can it be?” I ask curiously.

  Andever shuffles her hoof and sighs heavily. “I’ve lost my . . . my . . . my melody!” she says, beginn
ing to weep.

  Then I notice something unusual. Cloud Critters cry raindrops.

  “Is your melody like a song?” I ask.

  “Yes, but it’s more than a song,” Andever says. “My melody helps make me me. All Cloud Critters have their own special melody.”

  I look at Posey. He shrugs. We have no idea what Andever is talking about.

  “Can you tell us what it looks like?” I ask, hoping to find a clue.

  “I keep it in my locket most of the time,” says Andever. “But when I take it out, my melody shimmers and glows in a great ball of music and light.”

  Magnificent, I think. Then I look at her golden locket. It’s around her neck, and guess what? It’s unlatched.

  “My melody must have fallen out while I was flying!” Andever cries.

  She’s right—the locket is empty. Then I look at Posey, and I can tell he’s thinking what I’m thinking.

  We have to help Andever find her melody . . . whatever it turns out to actually be!

  The Game Plan

  “It’s simple!” Posey says. “All we have to do is retrace your flight today.”

  Andever looks away. “But how?” she says helplessly. “I’ve been all over the WOM today.”

  This makes me raise an eyebrow. “The WOM?” I question.

  “The World of Make-Believe!” they both say at the same time.

  I blush a little. “Obviously,” I say. “But Posey’s right—retracing your flight is the best way to find your melody.”

  “Oh no!” Andever says as she runs and hides behind a pink gumdrop hedge. Her horn pokes up from behind a bush.

  Posey and I rush to Andever’s not-very-good hiding spot.

  “Why are you hiding?” Posey asks. “Are you afraid of something?”

  Andever makes the bush quiver. “Yes, I’m afraid of the M-M-M-M-Moonsturs!” she cries. “You see, I flew over Moonstur Hollow today.”

  Then I put my hands on my hips and look at Posey. “What the boo-hilly are Moonsturs?”

  “Moonsturs are a kid’s worst fears—come to life,” Posey says with a frown. “They can be the thing that lives under your bed or the thing that lurks in your closet or that dreadful thing that waits in the basement for no good reason at all except to scare people.”

  Hmm . . . I’m pretty sure there’s a Moonstur in our linen closet.

  Posey continues. “I’ve seen them before. They are shaggy, slobbery, and all-around scary.”

  Andever nods wildly. She’s shaking into little puffs of nervous clouds.

  Wow, they seem scared. Here’s the problem. I can’t figure out what everybody is so afraid of because Moonsturs don’t sound scary to me at all. They sound cool! So I pump my fists and shout. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go to Moonstur Hollow!”

  Moonstur Hollow

  Posey and Andever stare at me with their mouths hanging open.

  “What?” I say innocently. “It’ll be an adventure. Besides, you have to face your fears! That’s what my grandma Upsy always says, and she’s really smart.”

  So Posey leads the way to Moonstur Hollow, and let me tell you, it is not on the Rainbow Road. Moonstur Hollow is as dark as a gray day in November. And it looks like a spooky bedroom. I mean, it has actual rickety children’s beds with moth-eaten dust ruffles, weather-beaten rocking chairs, and dressers sticking out of the ground like boats in the ocean. There are even random doorways in the dirt with stairs that lead underground.

  “I GET IT!” I cry out loud. “This must be where the Moonsturs practice their hiding and scaring skills. Then, when they go to a real kid’s bedroom, they’ll know just what to do.”

  Posey cups his hand over my mouth. Was I too loud? I wonder. Then we hear a deep, rumbly voice.

  “You called?” the voice growls.

  I notice something with shaggy green fur lurking not too far from us. It has one too many toes; big, droopy ears; thick, bushy eyebrows; a large pink nose; and a mouthful of pointy yellow teeth. I’m pretty sure it’s a Moonstur. And it’s absolutely adorable in the weirdest way!

  “Hi there!” I say.

  The Moonstur looks over both of his shoulders as if I’m talking to somebody else. Then he looks back at me. “Why you no run and hide?” he says. He talks with a grrr in his voice. Then he jerks a thumb at Andever and Posey, who are hiding behind a tree. “Those two run and hide. They smart.”

  I shake my head. “They just don’t see how wonderful you are.”

  “WHAT?!” he shouts and waves his arms in the air. “Me NOT wonderful!!! Me GRACKAN. Everyone say me SCARY. You RUN!”

  Aw, this Moonstur needs a great big hug, but I offer him my hand instead. “Nice to meet you, Grackan the Wonderful!” I say, shaking his furry green hand. He’s a snuggle bug, I think, except for maybe all those pointy teeth.

  “Grackan da Won-dur-fool?” he repeats. I can tell he likes it, but then he gets all gruff again. “So, what you want?”

  I look over at Andever. “That Cloud Critter has lost her melody. Have you seen it?”

  “Is it bright, shiny, NOISY?” asks Grackan, and I give him a nod.

  A big toothy smile spreads across his furry face. “Me help.”

  Andever lets out a hopeful cry, but Grackan holds up a claw.

  “FIRST we play hide-and-shriek!” he says. “THEN me help.”

  I step up and answer for everyone. “Let’s play!”

  Grackan is “it” first. He counts, and we scatter. Not to brag, but I am a master hider. I dive under the covers of one of the messy, unmade beds. I fluff the quilt to make it look like nobody is there. Posey hides in a closet. Bad idea. Andever hides behind a bush. Worse idea. They both get caught, obviously, and Grackan gives them a good scare.

  I know because I hear them shriek.

  Then we all take turns being “it.” Grackan is a master hider too. When he disguises himself as a furry footstool, no one finds him!

  “ME win!” Grackan says triumphantly. “Now me tell you what me know.”

  We gather round and listen eagerly.

  “Your melody disturbing Pretty Pixies,” he says. Then he turns to me. “You go see. You find. You good at hide, which mean you good at find.”

  Now I think that is a Moonstur compliment! So off we go to the Land of the Pretty Pixies.

  Land of the Pretty Pixies

  “Pretty Pixies are very hard to spot,” Posey says as we walk along a woodland path.

  I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I can see trees, ferns, flowers, wild berries, and clusters of polka-dot mushrooms. I can also hear the sound of a bubbling brook nearby. These woods are perfect—no fallen trees or dead leaves, or any trace of icky, itchy poison ivy.

  “Are we near the Land of the Pretty Pixies?” I ask.

  “Very near,” Posey says. “In fact, we may be standing in the Land of the Pretty Pixies right now—so watch your step!”

  “Wow, they must be tiny!” Andever exclaims.

  “A Pretty Pixie village can fit inside a burgabane box,” Posey tells us.

  “Okay.” I pause. “Are you going to tell me what a burgabane is?”

  “It’s food made with cheese and tomato sauce on round bread,” says Posey. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

  “You mean pizza?” I ask. “Obviously, I know pizza. It’s delicious! Wait, the entire village can fit in a burgabane box?”

  That is very small! I think. Then I quickly check the bottom of my shoe to make sure I haven’t stepped on a Pretty Pixie. Andever checks under her hooves too.

  “Have you ever heard of pixie dust?” Posey asks.

  I put a hand on my hip. “Obviously,” I say. “Who hasn’t?”

  Posey rolls his eyes. “Well, Pretty Pixies are pixie dust! And have you ever noticed dust sparkling in a beam of light?”

  Andever and I both nod.

  “Those are Pretty Pixies in their Pretty Pixie Dust form! It’s how they sneak around.”

  “Wow, wow, triple wow,” I
say. “I never knew that before!”

  Note to self: Look more closely at sparkling dust beams from now on.

  Then I walk right into a swarm of gnats. Ugh! I brush them away, but they come right back. I wave my hands like crazy to shoo them away. And then I take a closer look and gasp.

  “Oh no! These are not gnats!” I cry. “It’s Pretty Pixie dust!”

  The Pretty Pixie dust swoops down toward a tiny pixie village. Then the dust forms into tiny pixies in flower-petal clothes!

  Their town has itsy-bitsy houses with pinecone scales for shingles. There are eensy-weensy rustic twig chairs and tables. I see winding pebble paths and elven bridges that lead to wee playgrounds with leaf hammocks and acorn swings. It’s an itty-bitty paradise!

  I hold out the palm of my hand, and one of the little pixies lands on it. Her voice sounds like tiny tinkling bells. I lift my palm closer to my ear to hear her speak.

  “My name is Twee,” she says. “The Pretty Pixies wish to know if you mean us any harm.”

  I answer softly so as not to hurt her ears. “I’m Daisy,” I whisper. “And we mean you no harm at all. We’re only looking for my friend’s lost melody.”

  “Oh!” Twee twitters. “Is the melody very loud and musical?”

  I nod. “And bright and shiny.”

  “Your friend’s melody is beautiful,” says Twee. “But it was too loud and bright for tiny sprites like us. We had the Golly Ghosts take it away.”