A Leprechaun Visitor

Mrs. Combine wowed the entire kindergarten class with a show of tiny green footprints across the craft table and up the wall. Open on the table was a canister of paint.

"Look, leprechauns were here," Mrs. Combine told us.

I lived in a house where the toothfairy never visited and where my parents had stopped pretending about the time Jonah turned eight. Naturally, I didn't believe her.

I raised my hand and waved it to tell her so.  Just as I did, someone made a pesky noise. I looked around, but none of my classmates seated on the carpet pretended to see me.  They were stock still. I looked up at Mrs. Combine, too, but she was glued to her chair.

"Psst!" I finally looked down. At my knee stood a tiny green man. "Do not be alarmed, missy," he said.
From his boots to his eyebrows he was green as grass, and just as tall.

It did not occur to me to be afraid. He was only height-challenged and possibly malnourished. "I should be. I'm going to scream."

He winked. The motion was so tiny that I only saw the twinkle of his eye. "If you do that, you won't get a wish."

"Wishes are for babies," I told him.

"Oh, so you won't be wanting your wish, then?"

This was an interesting proposition. "What do I have to do for a wish?"

"Nothing, missy. Whatever you wish will come true. Once only, mind you. Just sit back while I have a wee bit of fun."

I thought about it, nodded my head, and almost smiled at the little man.

He grinned and jumped onto my shoulder with one mighty hop. "Watch this," he said. His arms swooped in a grand gesture. Paintbrushes tumbled to the floor. Paper threw itself around the room. Storybooks fell off the shelves, while the paint can rose and tipped over the teacher's head.

I turned my head to glance at the wee man, but he had disappeared. Instead, my classmates were wiggling and giggling. One of the boys pointed at Mrs. Combine and guffawed. I looked at Mrs. Combine, and immediately wished I had not.

I shot up and ran to Mrs. Combine. "Are you alright?"

She sputtered, "What did you do?"

"Nothing," I started to say. But then I saw the green paint coating my hands. I stared at them wildly. How had this happened?

"Time-out. Now. I'm calling your parents." Mrs. Combine stood in a gesture that immediately shushed the class. She got a towel and wiped her neck and face. Her permed hair could not be helped, unfortunately. Then she sent me to sit on the stool in the corner facing the class.

I gripped the underside of the stool with both hands, as I was supposed to. Classmates tittered and giggled.

"No kicking," Mrs. Combine reminded me.

I stopped swinging my feet. I looked down at the speckled carpet and wished that none of this would have happened.

Then I was sitting on the carpet, looking up at Mrs. Combine, who was reading a storybook to the entire class. The open can of paint sat on the craft table. The floor and the teacher were immaculate. The only evidence of a green little man was a series of green footprints across the table and up the

I thought I heard a small snicker coming from my shoulder. "You should have saved it better, dearie,"

I glanced to my side. Two small green footprints marked my shoulder.