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The Most Mystifying Potion: A Sophie Mae Adventure, #4
The Most Mystifying Potion: A Sophie Mae Adventure, #4
The Most Mystifying Potion: A Sophie Mae Adventure, #4
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The Most Mystifying Potion: A Sophie Mae Adventure, #4

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Sometimes magic is all that can save you.

 

Sophie Mae and the invisible residents of the magical house she lives in are shielded from the starvation and deprivation of The Dust Bowl in the depression allowing them to serve the desperate community around them. But when the potion fades how will they survive?

 

The cusp of a new decade finds the estate magic failing on every front. Residents are shedding the potions side effects. The imagination room lays silent and the world outside is starving. Sophie Mae must decide her own fate, away from the magical house but will the very magic meant to fulfill her dreams be her ruin?

 

You'll love this classic Middle-Grade Historical Fantasy for its fast pace and fun characters. Book four in the Sophie Mae Adventures chapter books.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMason Bell
Release dateMay 1, 2022
ISBN9781736790908
The Most Mystifying Potion: A Sophie Mae Adventure, #4
Author

Mason Bell

Mason Bell spent many of her teenage years working under the scorching sun in a popular theme park. Serving in positions from ride operation to sweeping trash to managing work crews, she learned the park's secrets and gained an appreciation for the effort that went into creating the illusion.Mason Bell lives in South Texas with her husband and two cats, Frodo and Fat Hobbit.

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    The Most Mystifying Potion - Mason Bell

    Chapter 1

    Red and blue streamers wrapped light posts and parking meters in downtown Evenland. Hot chocolate and pretzel vendors set up shops on the corner and chatted with the policemen who were helping people cross the busy street. The frosty February morning was the coldest one on record, but the people of Evenland turned out in droves for the grand opening of the tenement housing for the economically depressed, Hope Villa.

    Sophie Mae waved to a young girl bundled in a wool jacket and red crocheted hat as the Hillman pulled up to the last construction site of the venture between Ms. Catherine and the owner of Evenland Hardware, the elder Mr. Clarkson. Wiping the fogged window, Sophie Mae scanned the crowd. So many people are here.

    Dink leaned to the dash and peered at the ten-floor building encompassing most of the land they’d purchased for the project. A playground on the east side had swings and metal slides, both buried under mounds of snow. The solid brick walls of the building, dotted with rectangular windows, sheltered the garden area from the heavy snowfall.

    I can’t believe it’s the last one, Dink said. After three tenement buildings and a half dozen single homes, we moved everyone out of the Hooverville. What comes next?

    I’ve wondered the same. The church can handle feeding the few families still in need. Sophie Mae grabbed her soft yarn hat with the white pompom. The Drycrop farm has been on my mind since my memories returned. It’s been in my family for generations, and I don’t want to abandon it.

    Billy learned to build in the CCC. I bet he could give you some pointers when he comes home in two weeks. Dink stared at a child who tugged at her mother’s coat. I wish I had a clear path for the future. Things are so murky right now.

    Just as the thought tumbled from her lips, an old brown truck rumbled past the car. Black fumes rose from the round tailpipe as it hastily swerved to the curb and parked several vehicles ahead of them.

    Isn’t that Thomas’s truck? Sophie Mae asked.

    Yes, I suppose.

    He’s still not talking to you? After all the time you spent working together on housing, you’d think he’d at least give you a reason.

    Dink drew her gaze from the truck. We should be going. The ribbon-cutting ceremony will be starting soon.

    After sliding the protective rubber covers over their leather shoes, they pulled on their fur-lined gloves and strode to the icy sidewalk where the odor of gasoline lingered. A middle-aged man with a bag over his shoulder nodded, remembering his manners despite the work ahead of him. Mind the salt.

    Dink continued to barrel along as if the man were invisible. Sophie Mae gently grabbed her by the arm, slipping a bit on the ice before snapping Dink from her stupor. What did I do?

    Sophie Mae pointed to the man who grabbed handfuls of rock salt from his bag and tossed it to the sidewalk. He’s melting the ice, and we need to give him space to work.

    Oh, right.

    The embroidered flower on Dink’s hat sat higher than the top of Sophie Mae’s head.

    It’s still weird, Sophie Mae said. I’d never imagined you’d be taller than me. It must be all those years of saving your growth.

    My dad was pretty tall, Dink said, her eyes trained on Thomas, who stepped from the truck in his Sunday best. Six and a half feet, Mom says.

    Thomas glanced in their direction and pivoted, heading to the entrance of Hope Villa. His show of indifference was at odds with their usual giggling and blushing.

    What happened between you?

    I wish I knew. For the last few months, Thomas has kept his distance and walks away when he sees me. I think fading my potion made him suspicious of me…I did grow older overnight. Dink tapped her chin. Maybe he believes I’m a different person, like an imposter?

    At the end of the sidewalk, they merged with a herd of local politicians wearing their best suits and jackets, despite the muck of the dirty snow clinging to their pant hems. Artists who donated their time to decorate the rooms rushed behind them to the building’s entrance. An enormous podium consumed the space, leaving little room for the planters of pansies covered in a light blanket of snow.

    The dignitaries packing the cement slab jockeyed for the front row and their chance to grace the front page of the local paper. The mayor of Evenland stepped to the podium and waved to the cheering crowd. Dink stood with Sophie Mae near the back, paying no attention to the elected official as Thomas’s musky cologne drifted on the breeze.

    This day marks an important day for the City of Evenland, the mayor beamed. Today, we take care of the most vulnerable among us and give them the respect and dignity all people deserve. May this housing unit stand for a hundred years and tell of the bravery of this generation in the face of adversity.

    A long red ribbon with a fluffy bow stretched across the podium. Holding a pair of giant scissors, the mayor grinned wide enough to show off his molars, cutting the ribbon to great applause. With a final wave, he led the dignitaries into the new building for the grand tour. The shivering crowd chattered as they filed in behind, hoping the building would be heated and warm.

    Thomas skipped the tour and marched away from the entrance. The snow-covered grass crunched as he hurried to his truck. Dink jogged after him, leaving a concerned Sophie Mae on the sidewalk.

    Thomas? Wait, Dink said. He wrenched open the rusty truck door and slid into the seat. Black smoke shrouded the car parked behind him as he revved the engine.

    Thomas? She knocked on the window. What is going on? Can we talk about it, whatever it is?

    His sorrowful eyes glanced to hers as he shifted the truck into gear and sped away.

    Dink sank to the frigid ground, hugging her legs. Sophie Mae wrapped an arm around her shoulder and lifted her to standing. Don’t worry too much. He’ll come around, I’m sure. Let’s head back to the house. Miss Catherine has big news for us.

    What could I have done to make him so angry?

    Sophie Mae opened the passenger door for Dink, and she slid into the seat, stuck in an emotional void. Sophie Mae hopped to the driver’s seat and closed the door to the cold air, though it wasn’t much warmer in the Hillman. She turned on the car and cranked the heater.

    Do you suppose Aunt Catherine is going to announce a new animal?

    Dink didn’t respond, and Sophie Mae dropped the small talk as they rode down Main Street. As they pulled into the Gardenia Estate drive, the electric arm hummed as it opened the metal gate.

    A canopy of tree branches sheltered the long driveway to the estate which had remained peaceful since Sophie Mae moved in four years ago. Life in the estate offered her shelter, plenty of food, and family connections, all of which were not her Drycrop farm. One day I will return home. I have to find myself—outside the safety of the estate.

    Mr. Langston walked toward Sophie Mae as she parked the car. Opening the passenger door, he bowed. Welcome home, Miss Sophie, Miss Dink. How was the opening ceremony?

    Lots of cameras and politicians, Sophie Mae said.

    Mr. Langston took Dink’s coat as she trudged into the house. Sophie Mae called to her, Do you want a sandwich?

    Dink continued shuffling through the kitchen.

    Mr. Langston furrowed his brow. Is the miss feeling unwell?

    I wish it were that easy. Thomas is still ignoring her.

    Ah, yes. The yearning of youth.

    Is Aunt Catherine ready for us?

    Yes, Miss Sophie. She is waiting in the sitting room.

    Sophie Mae crossed from the foyer through the cozy room’s arched entry. A blazing fire in the hearth warmed her hands as she said hello to Aunt Catherine and Mr. Kimall, who sat close on the red velvet sofa. Dink snuggled between Mrs. Worthington and George on the opposite couch, her hands clasped—her head hung low.

    Good, you’ve arrived, Aunt Catherine said. Mr. Kimall and I are proud of the work you’ve put into the charity arm of this estate. We have fed hundreds and housed many more. Only a few weeks into this new year of 1939, hope is on the horizon. More people are back to work, and the economy is recovering.

    What she’s trying to say is we are gonna take some time off, Mr. Kimall said.

    Yes, that’s correct. Albert and I are taking a vacation. The last five years have been difficult—

    —And we ain’t getting any younger, he blurted.

    Well, it’s about time, George said. You two deserve a break. Where are you planning to go?

    New York, Aunt Catherine said. Our tickets are for a week from tonight.

    Mrs. Worthington slid to the edge of her seat. You’ll miss Billy’s return.

    We’re not worried, Mr. Kimall said. We’ll be back in no time. Billy might enjoy the peace and quiet of the estate while we’re gone.

    Do you plan to visit the Chrysler Building? Mrs. Worthington asked. I read it’s the tallest in the city.

    We wouldn’t dare miss it, Mr. Kimall said. I want to take a photo from the top floor.

    Oh, quit, Aunt Catherine said. You don’t like heights. You can’t even handle looking out my bedroom window.

    Dink walked from the room. Excusing herself, Sophie Mae hurried to catch the melancholy girl. Such great news, I mean about Aunt Catherine.

    Sure.

    The distance in Dink’s expression worried Sophie Mae.

    Are you going to the imagination room? Can I come?

    No. I’m taking a nap. I’ll see you later.

    Sophie Mae shuffled back to the library and leaned close to the flames of the fireplace, hoping the heat would consume the hopelessness filling her soul. The two girls had always supported each other, but this time was different. As much as she wanted to call Thomas and demand he come to the estate and make things right, it wasn’t one of her best ideas. But I can keep her mind off Thomas until the loss fades.

    Chapter 2

    Purchased from a war time collector, the modified Mack truck rolled along the gravel, its original green paint flaking off and allowing rust to eat away at the frame. A flat steel bumper secured to the front end boasted its ability to crush through most buildings, though its main purpose was to carry troops into the battle zones.

    George bounced in the bucket seat behind the steering wheel as he backed the behemoth to the barn. Sliding from the vinyl-covered cushion, he passed through the walkway between the two bucket seats in the cab to stand in the bed of the truck. Benches that once lined the bed had been removed, leaving the space large enough to hold an elephant. Passing under the faded and torn canvas shielding the bed of the truck from the weather, he scratched his head. Mary Louise isn’t going to like the look of this old fabric.

    Shaking off the thought, George balanced on the hitch securing the trailer to the back bumper of the truck. The wide walls of the trailer were tall enough to hold Leggy on the journey. Jumping from the back of the trailer, he took a work rag from his pocket and wiped a clump of mud from the tire.

    Mary Louise, Leggy, and James stared from under the old oak tree where they lounged, no doubt enjoying a story about the wilderness. The eight-year-old James rushed to the army truck and rubbed his hands over the rounded headlights. The mechanic finally fixed it. Why can’t I go with you, Mr. George?

    We’ve been over this. The trip might be dangerous, and Ms. Ruby wouldn’t be too happy if you got hurt.

    But Mr. Langston said I could go. He said adventure was what a young boy needed.

    Did he now?

    Well, that’s what he said to Ms. Ruby when I was supposed to be sleeping. Pouting his lower lip, he clasped his hands. Won’t you please ask her again? I promise to help with the animals and not make trouble.

    Not make trouble? Mary Louise’s trunk examined the roughness of the canvas top resembling a horse-drawn wagon. I do believe this caravan you have purchased is trouble enough.

    Nonsense, George said, stepping on the metal frame and heaving himself to the bed enclosed with wooden slats. This space is huge and Leggy can ride in the trailer with plenty of room. Imagine the adventure that awaits.

    Suddenly, James lifted off the ground as Leggy grabbed the back of his pants. He rocked side to side as she climbed into the trailer, tucking her legs and relaxing.

    James slid across her stomach and landed in the safety of her folded legs. I can sleep here with Leggy. See, plenty of room.

    Mary Louise crawled into the truck bed, the sides of her body pressing against the wood slats. Her truck stretched through the small walkway to the cab where she sniffed the seats and flooring. Am I to be bottled up inside this glorified cage?

    George rubbed his brow, growing exhausted by the talking animal’s comments. Most days, he enjoyed Mary Louise’s wit and humor, but today it tested his patience. Finding a truck big enough for two circus animals was difficult, but finding luxury accommodations would have been impossible.

    Mrs. Worthington jogged along the path from the house, stopping at the sight of the retired war machine. I thought I heard you coming. This is just lovely! It’s like the covered wagons of old, but sturdier. I can’t wait to travel across the country and take in the beauty.

    Please, Mary Louise said. We are on a mission, not a vacation. Leggy must find her mother and give her shelter at the estate.

    I agree, George said. My hope is to find her on the first stop and head home.

    James climbed over the sides of the trailer and clung to Mrs. Worthington’s leg. Please tell Mr. George I have to come with you. Pretty please?

    Why can’t he come along?

    "It’s too dangerous

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