Disney Fairies: Art Lessons by Bess Page 3

  “We’re going to visit the sparrow man who makes the most important jewelry of all,” Scarlett said. “Queen Clarion’s crown!”

  “Jewelry-making talent?” said Aidan. “Well, it’s worth a try.”

  Bess, Scarlett and Aidan all stood in the middle of Aidan’s workshop. The workshop was a cozy little place, comfortably cluttered with metal and tools. One of the queen’s golden bracelets lay on his workbench, waiting to be fixed. In the big fireplace, a roaring blaze warmed the whole room..

  “Aidan is Pixie Hollow’s only crown-repair talent sparrow man,” Bess explained to Scarlett. “He fixes all kinds of jewelry, not only the queen’s crown. That means he works with gold and silver more than most fairies do. He isn’t an art-talent sparrow man himself, but he helps the jewelry-making talent fairies by sharing precious metals.”

  Scarlett nodded. “I understand. He could teach me about working with the metal, even if we do different things with it. Right?”

  “Exactly,” Aidan said. He pointed to a small bar of silver on his work bench. “The mining-talent fairies brought this yesterday. Would you like me to melt a bit for you? You could try making a chain, or a ring.”

  The idea clearly appealed to Scarlett.

  Still, she hesitated. “I wouldn’t—I couldn’t—break the silver, could I?”

  Aidan laughed gently. “You can’t break silver. Even if it gets dented or scratched, I can always melt it all over again.”

  Scarlett took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

  Swiftly Aidan went to work. He pumped the bellows so that the flames in the fireplace leaped higher. Then he held the silver bar in a pair of tongs and dipped it into the fire. Within seconds, the metal began to melt. Aidan quickly held the bar over a clay plate, and the liquid silver drizzled onto it.

  “There,” Aidan said. “Let it cool for a few seconds.”

  As Bess and Scarlett watched, the liquid silver started to take form. Scarlett picked up one of Aidan’s tools and prodded a corner of the silver puddle. She managed to nudge the silver into something like a shape.

  “That’s it!” Bess said. “That’s how you start.”

  Encouraged, Scarlett started to mold the silver. Bess’ excitement instantly vanished. Scarlett wasn’t creating a ring, a bracelet or any other sort of jewelry. She only managed to nudge the metal into a roundish sort of saucer.

  Without looking up, Scarlett said, “I’ve got it wrong, haven’t I?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Bess answered quietly.

  Everyone was silent for a second.

  Then Aidan, trying hard to be cheerful, said, “Well, no harm done.”

  Scarlett groaned. She walked away from the silver toward the fireplace. Bess followed her. Behind them, Aidan carefully collected the silver.

  Scarlett asked, “Bess, are you sure that every art-talent fairy finds her specialty eventually?”

  “Absolutely positive,” Bess said uncertainly.

  “I hope you’re right,” Scarlett said. “At least this time wasn’t a total disaster—whoa!”

  She had tripped over one of the pots waiting to be fixed, and fell down sideways onto one end of Aidan’s workbench. The other end tilted upwards sharply. Everything on the workbench flew up in the air—and Queen Clarion’s golden bracelet fell into the fire!

  “Oh, no!” Aidan cried. “The queen’s bracelet—it’s melting!”

  “I’ve got it!” Bess tried to grab the bracelet, but the flames were too hot.

  “Don’t get burned!” Scarlett pushed past Bess with the tongs. She made a grab at the bracelet with them, but she had never used tongs before. As soon as the bracelet was lifted, it slipped down into the ashes. Soot billowed out, blackening their faces.

  “Let me,” Aidan said. He took the tongs and quickly fished the bracelet out. It was still in one piece, but some of the fine scrollwork had blurred when the gold had started to melt.

  “Oh, no!” Bess cried, coughing. “Scarlett, are you all right? What about you, Aidan?”

  “I’m okay,” Aidan said.

  Scarlett rose from the floor and brushed herself off. “I didn’t mean to make such a mess, Aidan.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll have to redo the engraving, but that’s just a chance to try something new.”

  “Looks like I’ll have to try something new too,” Scarlett said. Her sooty face was downcast.

  Scarlett must be able to create some kind of art, Bess thought. But can we figure out what it is before she burns Pixie Hollow down?

  FIRST THING NEXT morning, Bess started visiting other art-talent fairies to see who might try teaching Scarlett that day.

  All the fairies agreed that Scarlett should still explore her creative ability. However, nobody would volunteer to work with her next.

  “Glass breaks very easily,” Jax said in the glass-blowing studio. “If she trips into our shelves, she could ruin weeks of our work!”

  “I’ve been working on this seaside mural for more than a month,” Leo said. He was painting the choppy waves Scarlett had suggested. “If she made a mistake, it might take me another month to fix it.”

  “Oh, no,” Jolie said, throwing her hands in front of her papier-mache stars. “Scarlett can’t come in here. No, no, no.”

  Bess sighed in discouragement. She couldn’t blame the others for wanting to protect their work. Already she knew she would have to start her baby-skunk portrait over from scratch.

  If only there were some safe place for Scarlett to experiment.

  Then Bess’ face lit up in a smile. She’d had an idea!

  What if Scarlett had a studio of her very own? Then she could explore any kind of art she wanted, for as long as she wanted, and nobody else’s work would be at risk.

  The more Bess thought about the plan, the more she liked it.

  Of course, first she would need a lot of help.

  “Everybody—push!”

  Bess pushed as hard as she could, along with a half dozen other fairies. Slowly, the pumpkin shell lifted from the ground. They had it!

  “This way!” Tinker Bell cried. “Follow me!”

  Laughing, Bess and the others began flying the pumpkin shell across the meadow. Above them, Terence showered down a bit of pixie dust to lighten the load.

  Bess glanced downward. Fluttering beneath them were several cooking-talent fairies, each carrying a pot of scooped-out pumpkin. Tonight everyone would share pumpkin muffins!

  They had selected the perfect place for Scarlett’s new studio—a shady glen not far from Bess’ tangerine crate. The fairies settled the pumpkin shell beneath an elm tree.

  “Perfect,” Tink said as she picked up her saw. “What this studio needs now is a door and some windows.”

  As Tinker Bell cut a door and windows into the pumpkin shell, other fairies worked on projects to help. The weaving-talent fairies wove a soft hammock for Scarlett to rest in. Fira enchanted a lantern that would burn throughout the night, as brightly or as softly as Scarlett wished. All the art-talent fairies brought different supplies, so Scarlett could try each kind of art in turn.

  When they were almost done, Lily said, “One more charm, and we’ll have the perfect studio. Ready?”

  Everybody nodded. Lily flew over the pumpkin shell, scattering pixie dust—but where it landed, it turned into glitter and made the pumpkin shell hard.

  “There!” she said. “Now the pumpkin shell will always stay fresh. Scarlett can use this studio forever.”

  Bess said, “I can’t wait to show her. Come on, let’s find Scarlett!”

  Everyone raced through Pixie Hollow, calling Scarlett’s name. Bess and Lily found her in Lily’s garden.

  “I was trying flower arranging,” Scarlett said. The flowers she had picked didn’t match, however. The colors of the petals clashed as terribly as the clothes she wore. “Looks like that’s not my talent either.”

  “Oh—my begonias—” Lily put one hand to her mouth. Then she said, “The
y’ll grow back.”

  Scarlett looked even sadder.

  Quickly, Bess said, “Wait until you see what we’ve made for you!”

  They took her hands and flew with her to the pumpkin-shell studio. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Bess cried as she led Scarlett inside. “Look, you can try paints. Varnishes. Engraving. Anything you want!”

  “I can try all by myself,” Scarlett said sadly. “Nobody wants to work with me anymore.”

  Bess and Lily looked at each other, embarrassed. They hadn’t realized Scarlett would know why they had built her a studio.

  Scarlett quickly added, “But it was so kind of you. Of all of you. And it’s the most beautiful studio ever!”

  As Bess and Lily left, Bess tried to tell herself that Scarlett would be all right now. Surely she would find her specialty now.

  But Bess couldn’t shake the feeling that Scarlett was even sadder than before.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Bess stood outside her tangerine-crate studio, waiting hopefully. “Is it ready?” she asked.

  “One more wash should do it,” Rani answered.

  With a wave of Rani’s hand, a fountain sprang up inside the studio. Water splashed everywhere! The mist made little rainbows in each window.

  Then Rani waved her hand again, and all the water was gone. “Finished!” Rani called. “Now your studio is as good as new.”

  Bess walked inside, took a deep breath, and smiled. No skunk-stink remained. Her studio smelled fresh and sweet. And it had never been so clean!

  I’ll mess it up soon enough, Bess thought happily. She was thinking of the brushes and paints she would leave lying around when she got back to work on her pictures.

  “You’ve done a wonderful job, Rani,” she said. “It feels good to have everything back to normal.”

  “I was happy to help,” Rani said.

  “I’ll be going now. I bet you can’t wait to start a new painting after taking two whole days off!”

  It was tempting to dive back into her work, but there was something else Bess wanted to do. “Actually, I’m going to check on Scarlett first.”

  Bess waved goodbye to Rani and flew across the glen to Scarlett’s pumpkin-shell studio. The orange shell glittered in the midday sun.

  “Hello?” Bess called. “Scarlett, are you there?”

  “Here I am.” Scarlett opened the door of her studio.

  “I wanted to see how you were this morning,” Bess said. “What have you tried out in your new studio so far?”

  “Nothing,” Scarlett said.

  “Nothing? But—you can try anything here! We brought tons of supplies and books.”

  “I simply can’t stand making another mess right now.” Scarlett’s glow had dimmed to a flicker, and her wings drooped. Her confidence had been badly hurt during the past few days. “I want to do something I can do well, but I can’t imagine what that would be.”

  Bess thought hard. Scarlett needs to do something right—so I shouldn’t push her toward another talent yet—but it should be something creative.

  She snapped her fingers. “We could use more paint.”

  Confused, Scarlett asked, “More paint?”

  “All art-talent fairies have to learn to make paints and plasters. You know, art materials. That’s not a talent; that’s something we teach each other.” Bess smiled.

  Scarlett brightened too. “That must be very important.”

  “It is! None of us could ever create if the others didn’t help make our supplies.”

  Already, Scarlett was flapping her wings in anticipation. “How do we do that?”

  “I’ll show you.” Bess took Scarlett’s hand. “Come on!”

  They flew quickly over Pixie Hollow, laughing in the sunshine. Bess knew precisely what to look for, but not where to find it. She dipped down, and up, then down again, searching through the forest.

  “Leo needs some dark green paint,” Bess called to Scarlett. “That means we need to find some Boing-Boing Ivy.”

  “Boing-Boing Ivy?” Scarlett asked. “Why do they call it that?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Scarlett pointed to a few ivy leaves dangling from a nearby branch. “That’s ivy, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t touch it!” Bess swiftly darted between Scarlett and the dangling leaves. “Yes, it’s ivy—but it’s Scritch-Scratch Ivy. If you get it on your skin, you’ll be itchy for a week!”

  “I’ll remember that,” Scarlett said. She pointed to a nearby vine. “What about that? Is that Boing-Boing Ivy?”

  “That’s a Cuddle Vine,” Bess corrected her. “Boing-Boing Ivy usually grows a little closer to the ground. Let’s fly lower.”

  Sure enough, as soon as they got within a few feet of the ground, Bess spotted what they sought. There, creeping up the trunk of a large birch, grew a thick patch of Boing-Boing.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful!” Scarlett said as they landed on the shady forest floor. She took one of the broad, soft leaves in her hand. “This is what we use for dark green? Do we pick the leaves?”

  “The green dye comes out better if we don’t,” Bess explained. “We should pull the ivy off the tree, so that the vine and leaves are both attached. The vine is the most important part.”

  “I understand,” Scarlett said. “Let’s get started!”

  When Scarlett grabbed vines in both hands, Bess quickly said, “Be careful!” But she was a little too late. Scarlett pulled hard, until—

  BOING!

  The vines snapped back to the tree trunk. Scarlett tumbled backward onto the ground.

  “Wow,” Scarlett said. “They’re very—”

  “Stretchy,” Bess said.

  “And slippery!” Scarlett’s hands were shiny with the slick Boing-Boing Ivy sap.

  “We need to pull even harder,” Bess explained. “But the vines are so elastic that they’re hard to tug free. And of course, they’re slippery, so it’s easy to lose your grip—”

  “Which is when the vines go boing!” With determination, Scarlett grabbed a twig that had fallen from her hair and twirled it back into place. “I see how they got the name. Is there any trick to it?”

  Bess sighed. “We just have to keep trying until the vine finally pulls free. We’ll both fall down a dozen times while we’re doing this. It happens to everybody.”

  That was the part that Bess found most comforting. She didn’t mind looking a little silly while collected Boing-Boing Ivy because everyone looked silly doing it. Surely Scarlett would be reassured too.

  But Scarlett didn’t need anyone to make her feel better. “Pulling Boing-Boing vines sounds like fun! Let’s get started!”

  They both grabbed handfuls of ivy. “Just pull slowly,” Bess said, tugging the ivy carefully away from the tree.

  “I’m trying,” Scarlett said, grimacing as she pulled.

  Maybe we’d make more progress if I pushed while she pulled, Bess thought. Quickly she slipped beneath the vine so she was on the other side, pushing outward. “Here we go. Take it easy, and—Oh!”

  The ivy slipped from their hands with a BOING! The vine smacked into Bess’ tummy and pulled her backward with it. Bess felt herself zooming toward the tree, until—

  CRASH.

  “Bess?” Scarlett ran to the tree trunk. “Bess, are you okay?”

  Bess groaned. She was pinned against the birch tree. “I’m fine! Embarrassed, that’s all.”

  Finally sure that Bess wasn’t hurt, Scarlett started to giggle. “You did look funny.”

  “I bet.” Bess laughed as she started to wriggle free. But she couldn’t quite tug herself loose from the vines. She pulled and pulled, but she couldn’t budge.

  Scarlett said, “Bess? Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Bess gulped. “I’m afraid—I’m afraid I’m stuck!”

  “YOU’RE STUCK?” Scarlett clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, no!”

  Bess tried one more time to free herself from the vines, but she couldn’t budge. The ivy held her firmly against
the tree trunk.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I’m stuck.”

  “Does this happen all the time too?”

  Scarlett asked.

  “No,” Bess admitted. “I think I’m the first fairy who ever managed to tie herself up with the ivy.”

  She thought about what it would be like when Scarlett went for help. The others would set her free, but oh, they would laugh! They wouldn’t mean to be unkind, but who could help laughing at something like this?

  Scarlett’s eyes widened as she looked at Bess’ face. “Are you embarrassed? You shouldn’t be. You were only trying to show me what to do.”

  Bess’s glow turned pink. “I know you’re right, but I feel—well, pretty silly.”

  “Trust me,” Scarlett said. Her expression became determined. “It’s okay, Bess. I’ll take care of it. Nobody else will ever find out.”

  Scarlett grabbed the vines and started pulling. She tugged so hard that her wings beat faster than a hummingbird’s. There still wasn’t enough room for Bess to wiggle free. Scarlett pulled, and pulled, and pulled, and—

  BOING!

  She lost her grip and went flying backwards. After a couple of loops in the air, Scarlett landed flat on her back in the mud.

  “Are you hurt?” Bess asked anxiously.

  “I’m fine. What about you? Did it hurt when the vine snapped back?”

  Bess shook her head. “Not a bit. Can you still pull with your wings all muddy?”

  “I can use my feet and hands just fine.” Scarlett sprang up as though nothing had happened. “We’ll try again. This time, you push against the vines at the same time I pull. Ready?”

  “Ready,” Bess said.

  Scarlett took two fistfuls of vine. “One—two—three!”

  Bess pushed as hard as she could. The vines were slippery against her hands. She grimaced, but she kept pushing, and Scarlett kept pulling, until—

  BOING!

  Scarlett went tumbling, head over heels. She somersaulted backwards until she landed, face-down, in the mud puddle again.

  “Scarlett!” Bess cried.