Winko Legerdemain couldn’t believe his eyes. He never thought he’d see one, but there it was: a fairy-sized ‘57 Chevy convertible.

The car of his dreams, built perfectly to scale, right there in the human-dwelling that the Legerdemain clan had adopted as its home. The two-tone blue and white interior…the whitewall tires…and the tailfins, sweet Morgan le Fay, the tailfins.

He scrambled up one leg of the end table, dizzy with anticipation. The key was still human-sized, and sticking into the metal platform that the car sat on instead of into the car’s dashboard. But Winko threw his shoulder against it and managed to give it a turn. High above, a light turned on – and the car’s engine made a revving sound! He, the kid who’d been voted Least Likely to Twinkle at Spenser High, was about to drive a ‘57 Chevy convertible!

Just as he was lifting a tiny leg over the driver’s side door, breathless and a-tingle, he heard the booming clomph of human footsteps. Louder, now. Louder. He mustn’t be seen! If a human sees a fairy, the fairy disappears in a puff of gardenia-scented vapor, trapped forever in the Sparklezone! Winko scrambled back down the end table. Panting and shaky, he reached the fairy den under the sofa just before several members of the family stormed into the room. Which ones? Humans all looked alike to him.

Winko couldn’t stand walking away from all that chrome and thunder – but he must. No car was worth a one-way drive to the Sparklezone, not even a classic American convertible. Somehow, Winko would have to learn to be content driving his boring old flying unicorn chariot.

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