A Tale of Highly Unusual Magic by Lisa Papademetriou Page B

his wide belly.
    â€œI’ll have my lawyer send you the papers.” Melchisedec Jonas was a small man, extravagantly groomed with pale hair slicked to his head and eyes that seemed flat and dead.
    Ralph’s parents were always polite, but they did not look at Mr. Jonas as they collared Ralph and marched him out the door. And, in this way, Melchisedec Jonas killed the small magic that had almost changed the fortunes of the Flabbergasts.
    Mrs. Flabbergast never made another jar of sauerkraut again.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Kai
    The library is doing a wonderful job of impersonating a small wooden cottage, Kai thought. It didn’t look like the libraries in Baltimore. It didn’t look official at all. In fact, if it weren’t for the hand-painted sign on the white fence, she never would have cast a second glance at the one-story structure on the main street.
    â€œWhy aren’t we just looking up the moth on your dad’s computer?” Kai asked.
    â€œThis library has some stuff you can’t get anywhere else,” Doodle told her.
    Kai lifted her eyebrows at the little old building. “Like dust mites?”
    Doodle ignored her, pushing the gate, which yielded with a welcoming creak. The paint on the wooden stepsand front porch had been rubbed off by years of people carrying books back and forth. All in all, there was something about the building that made Kai think of a friendly old woman, the kind who loves visitors.
    â€œDoodle!” The young man behind the library counter looked delighted to see her. Colorful tattoos ran up his arms, creeping beneath the turned-up sleeves of a vintage gas-station attendant shirt with Vinnie written over the pocket. The sides of his dark hair were cropped close, ending in a bouffant that towered over a pair of black-framed glasses. “Wait there!” he said, ducking behind the counter.
    â€œWho’s that?” Kai whispered.
    â€œThe librarian, who do you think?” Doodle said back. She did not whisper. Subtlety was not Doodle’s strength. “Carlos.”
    â€œHis name isn’t Vinnie?”
    Doodle chuckled. “Don’t believe everything you read.”
    Carlos resurfaced holding an enormous, battered volume. “Dug it out of the archives!”
    â€œYou’re kidding!” Doodle rushed over.
    A very thin blonde woman with green eyes and a wide mouth shushed them.
    Carlos lowered his voice to a whisper. “It was down there—hi”—Carlos glanced at Kai—“buried in the back. Completely mis -filed!” He said this like a man who had endured a great deal of incompetence.
    Doodle reached for the book, then held back. “May I?” she asked.
    Carlos handed her a pair of white cotton gloves, and she pulled them on.
    â€œAre you going to look at it, or operate on it?” Kai asked.
    â€œCarlos, welcome to Kai.” Doodle did not look up as she gently, gently turned the brittle pages of handwritten notes.
    â€œAre you a lepidopterist, too?” Carlos whispered, and shoved his thick glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. They promptly slid down again.
    â€œNo, why? Is everyone in this town into moths, or something?” Kai asked.
    Doodle looked up from the book. Both she and Carlos stared at Kai.
    â€œWhat?” Kai asked.
    â€œWhittier Springs used to be a huge tourist destination,” Doodle explained. “Because of the annual moth migration.”
    â€œTourists?” Kai repeated, smiling a little. She assumed they were pulling her leg.
    â€œWe had a unique colony of Celestial Moths; the only one in the country,” Carlos explained. “That’s why we have the annual festival.” He pointed downward. Taped onto the front of the counter was a flyer proclaiming 134th Annual Lepidoptery Fair!
    Yep. He was serious.
    Kai felt her face burn hot out to the tips of her eyelashes.
    â€œA hundred years ago, people believed the moths could cure illnesses,”