“Touch me?” Isolde uttered a squeaky noise and jumped back, horrified. “Touch me? That’s the last thing I need! Then anybody could come up to me. I’m aristocratic! And you’re nothing; you’re not even a button! Servants!” she yelled, beside herself with indignation. “Where’s that riffraff off to now?”

  “Please.” Now Gustav, too, came to Emma’s defense. “It will just take a moment, and while we’re at it, maybe we could inquire if there is somebody here by the name of Constance? A ravishingly beautiful button from a traditional costume with a splendid singing voice, whom I—”

  “Everybody shut up!” screamed Isolde. “What were you thinking?”

  “What was he thinking? I’ll be glad to explain.” All of a sudden Louise tore herself away from her admirers, her lips narrowed in fury. “He would like to find Constance, because he loves her more than anything else in the world. Even though I don’t believe that you, Isolde, understand what love is. And Gustav may be just a simple carved button, but he accompanied us this far, and he’s my friend. And as far as Emma is concerned,” here Louise’s voice got even louder, so loud that all the other conversations stopped, “without Emma’s help I would never have made it to the castle and would never have found out how valuable I am.”

  “But,” sputtered Isolde. However, Louise didn’t let her finish speaking.

  “Am I more valuable than you, dear Isolde? I think so. So, keep your mouth shut!”

  Isolde kept silent, offended.

  “And then there’s Walter—a simple plastic button, that may well be. But behind this plastic chest beats a heart of gold! Walter saved us all!” Louise was now standing in the middle of the room; sunlight shone through an open window and was refracting in Louise’s ruby, making a captivating display.

  “If I’ve learned anything on our trip, it’s this: It doesn’t matter at all if a button is made out of plastic or a gemstone. No, it doesn’t even matter if somebody’s a button or a paperclip or a child. Whatever that is,” she added. “What is important is what a person does.”

  Emma thought that Louise had never looked prettier. A few ladies applauded, slightly confused, but stopped suddenly because at that moment, something extraordinary happened. It got dark. Something had blocked out the sun.

  The little pin with the pink head appeared in the doorway, white as chalk, and tried to say something, but all she could get out was “M . . . M . . . M . . . ”

  “Speak properly, pin, what’s the matter?” asked one of the blue ladies impatiently.

  At that moment Emma felt a gust of wind so strong, it seemed as though a helicopter was going to land next to her. Something appeared at the window, a horrible, ghastly, black something, something that made all the buttons cry out in panic. Glass tinkled, and something gigantic zoomed at breakneck speed through the air, black and menacing. It set its course for Louise, plunged downward, rose again like an arrow, and flew off. The sun returned as suddenly as it had disappeared. The spot where Louise had been standing was empty.

  “M . . . Magpie approaching,” said the little pin.

  THE VELCRO HOLDS IT CLOSED! HURRAY!

  “Louise?” Emma couldn’t believe what had just happened. Walter, who was standing next to her, started sobbing horribly, and Gustav had turned snow-white from fear. Everyone in the room was paralyzed. Except Isolde.

  “Pride goes before a fall; such is the case here,” Isolde remarked, impassive. “How she just had to show off that hat. Every button knows that magpies are attracted by that kind of sparkle.”

  “But we have to help her!” Emma exclaimed.

  Isolde looked her over coolly. “I can hardly believe that I’m still carrying on a conversation with an impudent thing like you; even so, you should know that we don’t have to do anything. Everyone is responsible for himself.”

  “And how should we help her, anyway?” mentioned a lady whose wig was somewhat tattered from the shock. “Perhaps we should fight this monstrous magpie? That’s totally impossible.”

  “But,” Emma stammered. “But . . . ”

  She thought about it for a second.

  “Of course we can help her! By touching Isolde, I’ll get big again and I’ll be able to free Louise.”

  “Don’t you even dare try to touch me!” screamed Isolde.

  Emma could hear Gustav huffing.

  His face had the same angry look that Emma had seen at Yarny’s Snack Bar.

  “If you don’t let this child touch you this minute, you won’t know what hit you!” he shouted. “It makes no difference to me how golden or valuable you are. Don’t you have a heart?”

  “No,” responded Isolde flippantly. “What for?”

  “Please.” Emma tried one last time. She was totally desperate. “You know, in my aunt’s house, I saved you from the cat; don’t you remember that?”

  “I hate cats,” said Isolde. “Even more than magpies.” With that, she turned around but jerked to a stop. A frightened whispering went through the room. It grew dark again outside the window!

  “The magpie’s coming back!” somebody screamed.

  “Help,” shrieked a woman’s high voice, and everyone dashed to the door. But it was too late. The last windowpanes broke with a tinkling sound, and something big and black squeezed into the room from outside.

  All the buttons screamed their heads off; Emma, however, couldn’t believe her eyes. Was it possible? “Victor!” she shouted in amazement. “Is it really you?”

  “Of course it is!” he exclaimed jauntily and unfolded himself so that he reached up to the ceiling and towered over all the buttons. “I thought I would accept Emma’s offer to look for my poets’ quartet. Writing poetry alone isn’t any fun. So I followed you. And the way it looks, I got here just at the right time, didn’t I?”

  Emma laughed in relief, while the ladies anxiously squeezed up against the wall.

  “You know the monster?” whispered Walter.

  “Victor,” shouted Gustav. “You have to help us again. Hold on tight to the golden lady there.” He pointed to Isolde, who was scurrying on her little legs through the room toward the door.

  Victor simply folded out his right side and blocked her way.

  “What are you thinking? Let me go!” screamed Isolde.

  Emma, who now understood what Gustav was planning, began to run. “Hold her tight, Victor, hold her tight!” she shouted.

  “That’s outrageous! Help! I’ll report you all! Ow! My hairdo! Let me go! I’m an aristocrat!” Isolde struggled like a madwoman and got more and more entangled in Victor’s bristles.

  Now Emma was standing right in front of her. She reached out her hand and said, “Aristocratic or not—you’re the nastiest button in the world.” Then she tapped Isolde’s cold cheek with her finger.

  “Be polite!” shrieked Isolde. “Your ladyship, you are the nastiest . . . ” Emma didn’t hear the rest. Without warning it got dark.

  EMMA’S WISHES

  When it got light again, Emma was lying on the floor of the button room. The window was wide open, as was the door to the hall. Emma stood up and teetered a little. How strange it was to be suddenly big again and to be standing on a wooden floor. She looked around. There they were—all the buttons, in their cartons and boxes and hiding places. Where were Gustav, Walter, and Victor? And where was Louise? The magpie. Emma ran to the window and looked out. In the cherry tree in the yard, a black-and-white bird was raising a racket. She flapped her wings hysterically as she noticed Emma, who climbed right out the window, since it was the easiest thing to do, and made her way hand over hand along a gnarly overhanging branch. Hopefully it wouldn’t break off. And hopefully Louise was still with the magpie.

  Carefully, Emma climbed higher. The magpie ranted and raved, but didn’t move from the spot. Maybe she had eggs in her nest? Puffing and panting, Emma worked herself up to the same height as the magpie.

  “Where did you drag Louise off to, you thieving bird?” she murmured.

  The magpie looked at her out of black, button-like eyes and flew a bit higher. Farther up in the tree Emma spotted a round thing made of dry sticks. She climbed some more, slipped, gave a little cry, and pulled herself up again. There! There was the nest. And in the middle—between a broken piece of a mirror and a silver ring, which surely belonged to Aunt Mechthild—lay a little silver button with a lovely red stone in the middle.

  “Louise, my dear,” Emma whispered and took the button out.

  High up in the sky, the magpie was almost going berserk with rage. But Emma didn’t care. She was as big as a normal girl again— what could a ridiculous magpie do to her?

  “Shoo, shoo!” said Emma. “Get lost! And don’t ever swipe another button!”

  The magpie squawked in a huff and flew away.

  Carefully, Emma put the Louise button in her skirt pocket and started back down. At that moment there was a piercing scream.

  “Emma! For heaven’s sake, Emma! There she is. I found her, Hubie; she’s in the tree.”

  A completely distraught Aunt Mechthild appeared under the tree. Over and over again she clapped her hands in surprise and from time to time she rubbed her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “You’re in the tree? Were you there the whole time? Why? We looked for you all over the place!”

  “You looked for me?” asked Emma, dumbfounded. She held on tight to the trunk and stood on the last branch.

  “But of course, my child, we were really worried about you!” Uncle Hubert came at a run; his cardigan fluttered like a flying carpet behind him. As he was running, his dentures fell out; he picked them up without stopping and crammed them back into his mouth without giving it a second thought. “Thank God!” he gasped, “Thank God.”

  Emma was completely speechless. Her aunt and uncle were seriously worried about her?

  “How long was I gone?” she asked cautiously.

  “Eight hours. Eight whole hours,” shouted her aunt.

  “We didn’t do any more puzzles for the rest of the day, we were so upset. And your mother’s coming to get you the day after tomorrow; she called a little while ago!”

  Emma’s mother was finally coming to get her? And the other two hadn’t worked on their puzzle anymore? They must have been really frightened. But how could Emma have been gone only eight hours? Maybe time went faster in Buttonland? She slid down from the branch and in no time found herself pressed into Aunt Mechthild’s ample bosom.

  “Didn’t you like it at our house? Tell me, where were you all that time?”

  Emma could feel the Louise button in her pocket; she heard the magpie making a racket in the distance and saw the open window to the button room behind her uncle. She thought about Gustav, about Walter, the paper clip, and the coin, about Victor and Isolde and the lake made out of suffocating silk. How was she ever supposed to explain that to anybody? Her aunt and uncle looked at her expectantly. They must have just jumped up from supper, because there was a little piece of egg yolk stuck to Uncle Hubert’s cardigan. Who would believe her?

  So all she said was, “In the tree. I was in the tree the whole time. I was asleep.”

  Her aunt and uncle exchanged a worried look.

  “Are you all right now?” asked her uncle. “Do you need anything? Can we get you a treat? Maybe a pu—”

  He didn’t get any farther. Aunt Mechthild stomped on his foot so that he grimaced in pain. “Pudding,” he said with a strained smile. “Maybe some of Mrs. Schulz’s pudding?”

  Emma thought it over for a moment.

  “I don’t want any pudding,” she said.

  Aunt Mechthild’s cautious smile faded. “What do you want then my dear child?”

  “A puz—” Uncle Hubert spoke up once again, but this time Aunt Mechthild stomped on him so hard that he howled.

  “I want something else,” Emma declared.

  “Sure, sure, whatever you want,” Aunt Mechthild was quick to say. “A roll? Some cocoa? A warm bath?”

  Emma shook her head. “I want three things,” she said. “First of all, I want you to get me three Velcro fasteners.”

  “What?” asked her aunt.

  “You mean—buy new ones?” her uncle asked, dismayed.

  “They don’t have to be new.” Emma thought about it briefly. “Just the opposite; the older, the better.”

  “And secondly?” asked her aunt.

  “Secondly, I would like to straighten up the button room. Alone,” Emma added, when she noticed her aunt’s horrified look.

  “The button room?” Aunt Mechthild turned white as chalk. “What do you want in there? It’s dangerous there; I . . . ” She stopped talking suddenly and bit her lip. At that moment, something incredible occurred to Emma. Her aunt’s red hair was so crinkly and straggly; it hung on her head like . . . wool! The paper clip’s words came to mind. Could it be that her aunt had once been to Buttonland herself but didn’t want to admit it? And maybe that’s why she was afraid to go into the room?

  Curtly, Emma answered, “I have something to take care of in there.” Her aunt shivered, as if she was having an eerie memory, but then she nodded.

  “And thirdly?” asked her uncle.

  He hadn’t noticed Aunt Mechthild’s distress. Apparently, he was just relieved that none of the wishes would plunge him into ruin.

  “And thirdly, I would like you two to buy me a pair of lederhosen.”

  “Lederhosen,” her aunt repeated mechanically. “Of course.” Her tone of voice was full of exaggerated patience; it was the one she normally reserved for small children, the critically ill, and observations about Uncle Hubert’s teeth falling out.

  “Not just any lederhosen,” said Emma. “But a used pair of men’s lederhosen, one with a button missing from the left suspender.”

  “Used and missing a button. That’s not expensive,” said her uncle happily. “That’s easy to arrange.” He scratched his head. “We might possibly even have something like that in the house. Then we wouldn’t have to spend any money. What do you think, my dear?”

  Her aunt furrowed her brow. “Of course, we’ll look around in the house first!” she shouted at Uncle Hubert. “Since when do we throw money out the window?”

  “And before I straighten up the button room, I would like some cocoa,” said Emma.

  “Whatever you want, sweetie,” Aunt Mechthild hastily promised.

  “Yes, that’s what I want,” said Emma. Then she went into the house.

  There was no time to lose.

  EMMA STRAIGHTENS UP

  Being big again was strange. Yet, that’s all Emma had wished for the whole time she was little. She missed Gustav, Walter, and Louise. Again and again she took the silver and red button out of her pocket and stroked it gently with her finger. What was Louise thinking, lying there in Emma’s hand? At least they had found out that Louise was worth a great deal. Emma would take care of everything else as soon as possible. For the time being she would just eat supper as usual.

  With a loud groan, Mrs. Schulz had brought a tray with sandwiches and an egg and had complained to Uncle Hubert about a woman of her age having to be on the go all day long. Even so, she seemed to be glad that Emma was there again, because she could show Emma the new varicose vein in her leg. “Comes from standing so much,” she had boasted. Then she had flounced off.

  Uncle Hubert was sitting next to Emma, sighing sorrowfully every now and then. Emma could just imagine what was wrong with him. He had begun to put the pieces of eggshell together again in order to reproduce the original egg. An egg puzzle.

  “Aunt Mechthild will be back soon.” He’d been saying that over and over again for more than an hour. Her aunt had dashed off right away to fulfill Emma’s wishes. Every once in a while Emma could hear a loud clanking or clattering in the house. Apparently, her aunt was rummaging through every drawer and box. And it seemed both of them had a very guilty conscience. When Emma was full and went to the button room, her uncle padded unhappily behind her. Emma stopped.

  “I’m doing this alone,” she said, her voice pleasant.

  “But don’t throw anything out,” her uncle requested with an anxious look.

  “I won’t toss anything out. I’m just tidying up.”

  Her uncle still didn’t leave. He must have gotten instructions from her aunt to watch over Emma so she didn’t disappear again all of a sudden.

  “Why don’t you do a nice little puzzle?” asked Emma.

  Uncle Hubert could hardly believe his good luck. “You wouldn’t mind?” he stammered.

  “No, as long as it’s only a little one.”

  “A tiny little one,” her uncle exclaimed with joy. “The tiniest, littlest, itty bitty puzzle in the world! It’s . . . ” he said and faltered. Evidently it was taking a great deal of effort for him to say this. He started again. “It’s nice . . . nice to see you, Emma.” Then he bolted.

  Emma took a deep breath and made her way into the button room. Where should she start? The castle. She had to find the sewing basket with the nested compartments.

  After she had looked for a while in countless boxes full of buttons, all of a sudden she noticed something that looked familiar. A pile of glossy gray fabric lay carelessly discarded on the floor. Silky gray fabric . . . the lake! It was the lake! She dug her finger in and fished two little mother of pearl buttons out of the depths of the fabric. “You nasty little meanies!” she murmured. Then she threw them back indifferently because she had found what she was looking for: the open sewing basket. And right in front of it lay two safety pins! Emma took a quick look through all the little compartments. They were lined with red velvet—and in the biggest compartment was an accumulation of blue and white buttons. Right at the edge was a carved button from a traditional costume and a nondescript plastic button. Gently, Emma lifted them both up and put them in her pocket with Louise. Was she imagining it, or did she hear soft cheering?

 

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