Ivy and Bean - Annie Barrows [10]
“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.