Ivy and Bean (8 page)

It was perfect.

“She’s dancing!” yelled Bean.

“The spell worked!” yelled Ivy.

And just at that moment, with a sloppy, gloopy thud, Nancy slipped off the edge and landed in the muddy goo at the bottom of the worm pit.

“No dessert,” said Bean. “No videos for a week. But at least they didn’t make me stay in my room.”

Ivy was sitting next to Bean on her front porch. It was almost dark. They watched the bugs flying around the streetlight.

“I don’t think they’re really mad,” said Ivy.

“You don’t?” They had seemed pretty mad to Bean.

“They have to act mad so they’ll seem fair to your sister,” Ivy said. “But your mom had this little, teeny smile on her face when she pulled Nancy out of the pit. She thought it was funny.”

Bean smiled, too, remembering. “It
was
funny.”

“It was great.”

“Nancy says she’s never going to speak to either of us ever again. And she took back the coloring book she gave me.”

“Well, she never spoke to me before today, so that won’t be any different for me.”

“It’ll be better for me. But I bet she doesn’t stick to it.” Bean yawned. It had been a big day. She turned to Ivy. “Do you think the spell is what made her dance?”

“Of course.” Ivy sounded very sure. But after a minute she said, “I didn’t have time to say the spell, really. I just sort of thought it at the last second.”

Bean stared into the shadowy yard. “Maybe that’s why she didn’t dance for very long—because you only thought the spell instead of saying it.”

“Next time I’ll say it.”

“You’re going to do it again? On who?” Bean asked.

“I was thinking about that Mrs. Trantz,” said Ivy.

Bean pictured Mrs. Trantz kicking up her feet on the edge of a muddy pit. It would be a beautiful sight. “Can you teach me to burp like that?” asked Bean.

“Sure,” Ivy said. “Maybe I’ll try something new on Mrs. Trantz. Like a storm of grasshoppers.”

“Is that a hard one?”

“No, but we have to start with a lot of grasshoppers,” said Ivy.

“It seems like all the spells have bugs in them,” said Bean.

“Not all of them,” said Ivy. “Potions don’t.”

Potions. That sounded fun. “Let’s make a potion,” Bean said.

“Okay,” Ivy said. “Tomorrow we’ll make potions.”

“I know what,” said Bean. “Tomorrow let’s fix up a lab in your room. Then we can make potions.” She pictured a lab with shelves full of little bottles. She and Ivy would wear goggles.

Ivy sat up straighter. “Yeah! That’ll be good. We’ll dump the dressing room and get some shelves. Shelves with little bottles. And maybe a counter.”

“Bean?” Bean’s mother came out onto the front porch. “There you are. It’s almost bath time. Ivy, do you want me to walk you home?”

“Okay,” said Ivy.

But Bean’s mom sat down beside Bean and looked at the nighttime sky. “You girls have certainly had a big day, haven’t you?”

Bean leaned against her mother’s arm. “Tomorrow we’re going to make a lab in Ivy’s room.”

“You are, are you?” said Bean’s mom. “What for?”

“Potions,” said Ivy.

“What kind of potions?” asked Bean’s mom.

“Secret potions,” said Ivy.

There was a silence. Then Bean’s mom said, “No matches. No poison. No explosions. No deadly fumes. No bugging Nancy. Is that clear?”

Ivy and Bean looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “Weren’t you the one who was always telling me to play with her?” said Bean. “Wasn’t this all your idea in the first place?”

Bean’s mother smiled at them in the dark.

The light on Ivy’s porch came on, and Ivy’s mom stepped out the door. She waved across the street. “Time to come in, honey.” Down the stairs and across the circle she came in the moonlight.

Ivy stood up.

So did Bean.

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

And the day after that, Bean added in her mind.

Ivy, holding her mother’s hand in the middle of street, turned around to look at Bean. “And the day after that,” she said.

IVY
+
BEAN

AND THE GHOST THAT HAD TO GO

BOOK 2

SNEAK PREVIEW OF THE NEXT IVY & BEAN ADVENTURE

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten—
wham
! Bean crashed into the grass.

“Ouch,” said Ivy, peeking through a hole in her sandwich. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No. I’m just dizzy,” said Bean. She sat up, and the playground began to tilt. Ugh. She lay down again.

Now Emma stood up. She lifted her hands above her head, took a big breath, and began. She did nine good cartwheels before she fell on her head.

“Are you all right?” Ivy asked Emma with her mouth full of peanut butter.

“Sort of,” said Emma.

Now it was Zuzu’s turn. Zuzu was the best cartwheeler in the Gymnastics Club. She was also the
best backbender. She could do seven roundoffs in a row. Nobody else could do even one.

Zuzu pulled down her ruffled pink shirt and raised her hands. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,
eleven, twelve
cartwheels, and still Zuzu landed on her feet. Then she arched over backward. She flung her arms over her head and made a perfect backbend. She looked like a turned-over pink teacup. Then she rose back up—
boing
—like a doll with elastic in its legs.

“Wow,” said Ivy.

Bean jumped up. She just
had
to do twelve cartwheels. “Stand back!” she yelled.

“Wait,” said Zuzu. “What about Ivy? Aren’t you going to do a cartwheel, Ivy?”

“I’m guarding the jackets,” said Ivy.

“But Ivy, this is the Gymnastics Club,” said Zuzu. “You can’t just guard jackets.”

Why not? Ivy wondered

“We’ll teach you how if you don’t know,” said Emma.

“She knows,” said Bean. “She can do a cartwheel. I’ve seen her.”

Ivy looked at Bean in surprise. Why was she saying that? Ivy had never done a cartwheel in her life. Slowly, Ivy put her sandwich down next to Emma’s jacket. “There’s just one little problem—” she began.

“Hey, Leo!” yelled Bean suddenly. “You better watch out. If I get hit with that ball, there’s going to be trouble!”

Leo was the head of the soccer kids at Emerson School. Before there was a Gymnastics Club, the soccer kids had the whole field to themselves during lunch recess. When Bean and Emma and Zuzu and Ivy started the Gymnastics Club, they kept
getting hit with soccer balls. One day, Bean got clobbered in the stomach, and she declared war on the soccer kids. She came to school with a bag of ripe plums and chased Leo down. When she caught him, she sat on him and rubbed plums into his hair. Rose the Yard Duty had been really mad. She told Leo and Bean that they had to work it out, or she would kick them all off the field.

So Bean and Leo worked it out. The Gymnastics Club was supposed to have all the grass near the play structure. The soccer kids were supposed to keep their balls from hitting the Gymnastics Club. Bean promised not to bring plums to school anymore. After that, the war was mostly over.

But now Leo looked mad. “It’s not even near you!” he yelled. He was right. The ball was on the other side of the field, near
MacAdam, a weird kid who sat under the trees and ate dirt when he thought no one was looking.