That was about the end of big Magic for little Juno. She did try a couple more low-key things, namely bringing some of her toys to life. When her old rocking-horse, which had been grandma’s before, pulverized in front of her eyes, though, and all her favourite doll Bernice did was to start squinting real creepily and never stop again, the last rest of belief in her Magic abilities was crushed. Not in her ability to do Magic, mind. But there could be no doubt that she was extremely bad at it. So she kept going like before, everybody adoring her and everything working out just fine, with one slight but crucial difference: the fact that there was something she couldn’t master actually moved Juno to humility. Savour this moment, reader. You won’t come across another sentence in this story that features the words ‘Juno’ and ‘humility’ without also featuring the words ‘opposite of’. But for the moment Juno was a genuinely nice kid, which obviously made everyone adore her all the more.
Seven bumper years of bliss followed for grandma and pop. Bernard’s garage prospered as automobile ownership became the norm. He was better able to support his folks back in New York. By the time Juno was too old for them, his puppet shows had turned into slapstick. Grandma won first prize in the quilt show of the 1955 Pacific National Exhibition in Hastings Park. After that she was Hastings-Sunrise’s undisputed needle queen. No wedding, christening or prom happened without her help.