Hailey Twitch Is Not a Snitch (3 page)

Tracks on the Teeth

I ride Addie Jokobeck’s bus over to her house. I get to have a bus pass and everything! Having a bus pass makes you very important. It means that the bus driver cannot be the boss of you. He cannot tell you that you cannot get on a bus that is not your own, because your
pass
says you can.

Addie Jokobeck has a very fun bus. All the kids are very loud.

When we get to Addie’s house, her mom, Mrs. Jokobeck, sets us up in the kitchen and gives us some big books on France to look through. Then she goes in the other room to take care of Addie’s little sisters, Delia and Mariah.

“Oooh, look, Hailey!” Addie says. “Here is a recipe for the best French fries ever!” She shows me the book.

“Let me see that,” I demand. I look real close at the picture. “Those do not look like the best French fries ever. Those look like plain old dumb French fries that everyone eats.” I push the book away. “This whole project is a disaster!”

I start to feel very cranky, like maybe I might have a big fit in Addie Jokobeck’s kitchen. And then something catches my eye. Something spark, spark, sparkly. Something over in the corner, near Addie’s mom’s computer. And that is a big, big, big jar of paper clips.

“I think,” I say slowly, “that we might need to use those paper clips over there.”

Maybelle has been sitting quietly on the chair next to me. She popped right back up when I got to Addie Jokobeck’s house. I am still very upset with her for crushing up that list of partners and throwing it away. She keeps saying, “Sorry, Hailey,” and, “Please don’t be mad at me, Hailey,” and, “I was just trying to be fun for Mr. Tuttle, Hailey, so he will give me back my magic.” But she did not even get me to be partners with Antonio! That is not fair. And so I am very mad at her.

But when I ask about those paper clips, Maybelle looks nervous.

“What do you need those paper clips for?” Maybelle asks.

I just ignore her.

“These?” Addie picks up the jar and brings it over.

“Hey, Addie,” I say, looking at those pink and blue and green and purple and silvery sparkly paper clips. “Did you ever hear of tracks on your teeth?”

Addie Jokobeck is full of surprise and shock. Because she rushes right out to her garage, and when she comes back, she has a big wrench from her dad’s toolbox! We can use that wrench to put the tracks on our teeth. Addie also comes up with the great idea of superglue. She might be a little bit good at having fun adventures after all.

Then we go into Addie’s downstairs bathroom.

“Now, Addie,” I tell her, “you lay out all our supplies on the counter.” Addie puts down all the supplies: paper clips, superglue, and the wrench. “Now we have to wash the wrench,” I say. “To make it clean. We can’t put dirty things in our mouth.”

We run the wrench under water from the faucet in the tub. Addie grabs a bar of yellow soap. “I will scrub up this wrench,” she says.

“Good,” I say. “I’ll start cutting the tracks.”

But when I try to open the paper clip jar, it won’t open! I try and try, until finally, the jar opens and paper clips go flying all over the bathroom.

I giggle. Maybelle picks one of the paper clips out of her hair. She is sitting on the back of the toilet being quiet as a mouse.

Addie grabs a towel off the rack and starts to dry the wrench. “All clean,” she says. Then she looks at that wrench very close. “Hmmm,” she says. “There are some stains on this wrench that won’t come off.”

“Let me examine it,” I say. The wrench has black grease on it. Some of it is coming off onto the towel Addie is using, but some of it is not. “Just wipe it off real good.” Addie wipes it off real good. She gets some black grease on her white lacy shirt.

“Now,” I say, “come here, I need to measure your mouth.”

“Me?” Addie looks nervous. “Why do I have to go first?”

“Because I know how to put the braces on,” I say. “So you will watch me first, and then you will do it to me.” Also, she is going first because I am the boss of her. But I keep my mouth shut about that.

I bend a blue paper clip into half of a circle and slide it into Addie’s mouth around the top of her teeth. It fits perfect. “Oh, good!” I say, clapping. “Now that we’ve done the fitting, we will glue it to your teeth, and then tighten it with the wrench.” Addie takes the track out of her mouth so that I can put glue on it.

“Uh-oh,” Addie says. She is sounding out words on the package of superglue. “It says ‘DO NOT USE ON SKIN.’”

“Teeth are not skin,” I tell her. I am hoping that Addie will forget about the rules of superglue for just one minute.

“Maybe you could use this!” Maybelle says from her seat on the back of the toilet. She points to a small pink and white tube on the sink. It says: “DENTURE CREAM.” “That would probably work.” Dentures are fake teeth. I know all about them because my Aunt Harriet has fake teeth. Sometimes when we visit her on Sundays, they are sitting in a cup of water on her sink.

“Yes, that would probably work,” I say. Addie does not notice. She is looking a little bit green. “But I do not feel like helping you to be fun right now, so no thank you.” I am trying to give Maybelle a punishment. But I am distracted by that denture cream.

“But,” Maybelle says, “this is glue. GLUE. FOR. TEETH.” I cannot control myself any longer. I need to use that cream!

“What about this?” I ask Addie. I pick up the beautiful pink and white tube.

“That’s for when my Grandma Jokobeck comes to visit,” Addie says. She shakes her head no, no, no. “I am not allowed to use it. It is for her fake teeth.”

“But it’s okay,” I say. “Because we are
making
fake teeth. Sort of. We need mouth glue and this is it!” I wave the tube around to get her all excited.

“I don’t know,” Addie says. She does not sound so sure. Probably because she still looks a little green. And also probably because she still loves rules. But I think she just needs to be convinced.

So I open up that tube and smear a big batch of that gooey, gooey cream onto a paper clip. A little bit gets on the sink. And on my hands. And on the towels. And on the floor. Then we put that paper clip right in Addie’s mouth. I hold my breath, and hope, hope, hope that it works. Addie looks in the mirror and smiles big and she has nice, gorgeous, shiny blue tracks on her teeth!

“Do me, do me!” I say, waving the tube of glue in her face. So Addie does me all up with red tracks! And we are smiling and laughing and we have braces on our teeth and it is very fun. Maybelle is so excited by all the fun that she is flying all around.

But then the bathroom door opens, and it is Addie’s mom. “Oh, my goodness!” she shrieks. “What have you done to my Laura Ashley towels?!” I don’t know who Laura Ashley is, because Addie’s little sisters are named Delia and Mariah. But I can tell Addie’s mom is mad about the dirty towels.

Then she spots the pink and white tube. And the paper clips. And the wrench. And all of the other gooey mess.

“What is going on in here?” she asks, putting her hands on her hips. Me and Addie don’t say anything. We look down at the floor. “One of you better answer me.”

Addie’s mom is definitely the boss of her.

“Maybe,” I say, “it might be time to get back to working on our project.”

Mrs. Jokobeck screams, “WHAT IS THAT ON YOUR TEETH?”

And then she pushes us right out the bathroom door, Maybelle flying behind us.

The Pink Shiny Raincoat

Mrs. Jokobeck got those tracks right off of us with water. But my mom is not happy. On account of the tracks. And on account of that Mrs. Jokobeck thinks I am a “bad influence.” I do not know what “bad influence” means. But I do know that it is not good. This is because it has “bad” in it.

So after dinner I am supposed to go to my room and clean it up. I am not allowed to watch TV. I am not allowed to talk to Kaitlyn. And I am not allowed to do anything fun like dance around and practice gymnastics.

“Maybelle!” I whisper very loud. “Where are you?” But Maybelle is gone.

I put some puzzles, my ballet slippers, and my sand art kit all in a pile on the floor. Then I use all my strength and push that pile right under the bed.
Swoosh!
All clean!

And then I hear a noise. A noise coming from under the bed where I just pushed that pile. It is a noise with lots of sniffles. Like someone who is crying and trying for people not to hear it. I know because I did that kind of crying once at a sleepover when I needed to go home in the middle of the night. Some people are just not good at sleepovers, and I am one of them.

I get down on the floor and look under the bed. And there is Maybelle! Over in the corner, all smush, smush, smushed up into a little ball.

“Maybelle!” I say. “What are you doing under there?” I know I said that Maybelle should live under the bed, but I really did not mean it. Maybelle cannot live under the bed. That would not be nice.

“I am cleaning up under here,” Maybelle says. She wipes her nose on her sleeve. “It is very messy here under this bed, with lots and lots of dust.” Then Maybelle does a very big sneeze. “ACHOO!” But it sounds like maybe she is pretending. She picks up one of the books that I pushed under there. And then she pushes it back out.

“But you do not have a duster,” I tell her. I push that book right back under. I just cleaned this room, and now Maybelle is trying to unclean it! “When my mom dusts, she gets out the duster. And some spray dust cleaner that smells like lemons.”

“Yes, well, I am going to get it right now,” Maybelle says.

“You are going to get what right now?” I ask.

“A duster!” Maybelle says. And then she sniff, sniff, sniffs. Just like I do when I am all finished crying.

“Maybelle,” I say very soft, “I think maybe you were having a good cry under there.”

“I certainly was not!” Maybelle says. She flies out from under the bed very, very fast, but I can see that her eyes are puff, puff, puffy. And red, red, red. Also her wings are all crinkly from being smushed up in a ball.

“Maybelle,” I say again, “I know all about having a good cry. I’ve had a good cry lots of times, like when Natalie Brice is mean to me, or when I get punished.” I get up from the floor and sit down on the bed. Then I pat the spot next to me for Maybelle to sit. “Now you sit right here and tell me why you’re crying. Is it because you feel bad you smushed that list up and I didn’t even get to be partners with Antonio after all?”

“No,” Maybelle says. Her face is all splotchy.

“Is it because you made me use Grandma Jokobeck’s teeth glue even though you knew I wasn’t supposed to and you got me in trouble with everyone and now I am a bad influence?”

“No,” Maybelle says.

“Is it because you feel bad that a nice girl like me has to be partners with Addie Jokobeck, and not Antonio Fuerte or Russ Robertson?”

“No,” Maybelle says.

“Is it because tomorrow—”

“Hailey!” Maybelle says. She holds up one hand so that I will stop talking. “It does not have anything to do with you.”

“Oh.” I do not know what to say. What else could it be if it doesn’t have to do with me? I think very hard. But I am stumped. “Then what is it?” I finally ask.

Maybelle comes up on the bed. She sits down right next to me and crosses one tiny leg over the other. “I’m just upset,” she says. “Because I am not very good at being fun. And…and…I am never, ever, ever going to get good at it, and Mr. Tuttle is not going to be happy, and I will never get my magic back! Sprites. Are. Supposed. To. Be. Fun!” She seems like maybe she is going to cry again. Or maybe have a big tantrum.

“It’s okay,” I say. I pat her on the shoulder. “You’ll learn. Practice makes perfect.” Then I decide to tell her this one story I know. “When my sister Kaitlyn started playing the flute, she had to practice, practice, practice.” Then I tell her the part that will cheer her up. “And that is because she was the worst flute player in her whole entire school.”

“And now Kaitlyn is the best flute player in her whole school?” Maybelle asks. Her eyes look very excited.

“Um,” I say. Kaitlyn is only allowed to play her flute in the basement so that the family cannot hear what horrible sounds she makes with that thing. But I do not want Maybelle to know that. “Well, she is still practicing to make perfect.” I give Maybelle another good, hard pat.

“I don’t know what to do!” Maybelle says. She is on her way to getting very worked up.

“Well,” I say. “You might want to start with those clothes you are wearing.” I look at her old green dress. “You do not have any fun colors.” I point to my shirt. It has glitter butterflies all over it. I do a little dance. “Do you see,” I ask, “how these purple butterflies sparkle all over when I dance?”

“Yes,” she says.

“That is because this shirt is very fun. When I saw it in the store, I said, ‘Now that is a fun shirt. I want it right now!’”

“You did?”

“Yes,” I say, “and then my mom made me ask politely. So I said, ‘Mom, may I please have that fun shirt?’ and she said okay. Also maybe for Christmas I might get sneakers with wheels on the back so that it will seem like I am roller-skating when I am really just walking.” I sit back and wait for Maybelle to be jealous.

But all she does is look confused. “I don’t know,” she says. “Roller skates for shoes?” She looks down at her feet

“Come on,” I say. “I will show you something that will make that dumb Mr. Tuttle very excited.”

And then I creep, creep, creep out of my room and tip, tip, tiptoe down the hallway. Maybelle and I tiptoe our way right into Kaitlyn’s room. And right into her closet. That is where she keeps her big box of things that she thinks are too babyish but still will not let me play with. There is a doll in there. One that is just about Maybelle’s size. One that is wearing a beautiful, pink shiny dress with a glittery sparkly skirt that flows out all around.

“How about this?” I ask. I hold it up for her to inspect.

“I am too old to play with dolls,” Maybelle says.

“Not to
play
with,” I say. “To wear her clothes.” And then I take that pink shiny dress right off that doll and hand it to Maybelle. “That,” I say, “is a very fun dress.”

I close my eyes while Maybelle changes. And when I open them, she looks very beautiful!

“You look like a whole new woman,” I tell her, clapping my hands. “Now twirl around and give me a fashion show!”

Maybelle twirls.

Creak
. The door to Kaitlyn’s room opens! And poof! Maybelle quick disappears.

“Oh, hello,” I say to Kaitlyn when I walk out of her closet. I look very innocent, if I do say so myself.

“What are you doing in here?” Kaitlyn demands. She looks very mad.

“Oh, nothing,” I say. “Just looking around.”

Kaitlyn looks suspicious. And so I quickly get out of there before she can ask any more questions.