Authors: Gertrude Chandler Warner
“Isn’t that Sam’s wagon?” Henry asked.
“It was,” said Brianna. She jumped down and patted Butterscotch’s nose. “I bought it from him. He and Susie have retired, you know. But Sam wanted the ice-cream wagon tradition to continue, so he passed it on to me.
“I’m so glad the wagon didn’t retire,” said Violet.
“So that’s how Butterscotch is a partner in the Ice Cream Barn. She pulls the ice-cream wagon just like Susie used to pull it,” Jessie said.
“That’s right,” said Brianna with a smile, as she looped Butterscotch’s reins over a fence post.
Climbing back into the wagon, Brianna opened a sliding wooden panel on one side. Then she reached down into a freezer inside the wagon, pulled out a small container, and set it on the counter of the window. “For Mrs. McGregor,” she said.
“Chocolate mint chip ice cream, right?” asked Henry.
“Right.” Brianna winked at Benny. “If you hurry and give it to Mrs. McGregor, it won’t melt one bit.”
“Wow, is Mrs. McGregor going to be surprised,” said Benny. He took the container of ice cream and hurried into the house. A moment later he came hurrying out with a carrot in his hand. “This is for Butterscotch,” he said a little breathlessly.
“She’ll love it,” said Brianna.
Violet stroked Butterscotch’s velvet nose as the horse nibbled the carrot from the palm of Benny’s hand. Jessie and Henry admired the wagon. “New paint,” Henry said.
“Ice Cream Barn colors: red and white,” explained Brianna.
Just then a man came hurrying up the sidewalk.
“A new customer,” Jessie said in a low voice to Brianna.
But she was wrong.
The man, who had crew-cut hair and an unfriendly expression in his blue eyes, stopped and put his hands on his hips. “What’s all this?” he demanded.
“The Ice Cream Barn’s new ice-cream wagon. From our barn to your neighborhood,” Brianna said proudly.
“Do you have a permit?” the man said, scowling.
“Yes,” Brianna answered. “Of course.”
“Oh,” said the man. He glared at the wagon, then at Butterscotch. “Noise. Bells ringing, children screaming for ice cream,” he said. He wrinkled his nose. “And stinky horse smell.”
“Butterscotch doesn’t smell!” Benny protested.
“That’s what you think!” the man said.
Jessie, who had been staring at the man in wonder, suddenly said, “You’re our new neighbor, aren’t you? You just moved in at the end of the street.”
“Nosy, aren’t you?” said the man. “Yes, I’m your new neighbor. My name’s Bush. Ronald Bush.
Mr.
Bush to you.”
“Welcome to the neighborhood, Mr. Bush,” said Violet politely.
“Are you trying to be funny?” the man said. Before Violet could answer, he went on. “Let me warn you. If that horse makes a mess, or you make one bit of noise, I’m going to call the police and complain!”
With that, Ronald Bush turned and stomped back up the street.
The Aldens and Brianna stood and watched until he had disappeared into the house at the other end of the block.
Then Benny said, “You know what, I don’t like Mr. Bush.”
Brianna shook her head. “Some people are just cranky, Benny. Well, I’d better get going. We have a few stops to make today before I head back to the barn.”
“Will you be back?” Violet asked.
“Oh, yes,” Brianna said. “We have a bell we’ll ring to let people know we’re here. We’ll park right over there by the curb and people can come and buy ice cream.”
“Every day?” Benny asked.
“Not every day, Benny. Greenfield’s not
that
small. But at least two or three days a week,” Brianna promised.
“Even though Mr. Bush doesn’t want you to?” asked Violet.
“Hey, it’ll take a lot more than Mr. Bush to stop this ice-cream wagon,” Brianna said. She picked up the reins. Then she said, “You know, you don’t have to wait for the ice-cream wagon to come to you. Why don’t you come visit us. We’ll be closed for business tomorrow, but Granna Katy and I are going to be there early working on some new flavor ideas. Stop by and we’ll give you a tour.”
“That would be great!” said Jessie.
“We’ll be there,” Henry added.
“See you tomorrow, then,” Brianna said. “Giddyup, Butterscotch.”
The next morning, Benny was up early, ready to go. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” he asked Grandfather.
“Not today, Benny,” James Alden told his youngest grandson, his eyes twinkling. “Maybe next time.”
“Okay,” said Benny. “Then we’d better hurry. We don’t want to be late.”
“We just finished breakfast, Benny,” Violet protested.
“Brianna said she’d be there early,” Benny insisted.
“If we ride our bikes the long way into Greenfield, maybe we won’t get to the Ice Cream Barn too soon,” Henry said.
A few minutes later, the Aldens pedaled down the street. They waved to their neighbor Ms. Dalby, who was standing in her garden. They waved to Violet’s classmate Catherine, who was walking down the sidewalk. They even waved to cranky Ronald Bush when they rode by his house. But Mr. Bush didn’t wave back. He stared at them as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
When they reached the Ice Cream Barn, the front door was locked.
“Uh-oh,” said Benny
“We’ll wait,” said Violet.
They sat down on the bench outside the shop. Then Henry said, “It looks as if someone else is waiting for the shop to open.” He nodded in the direction of a small white car parked across the street. They could see someone inside, but whoever it was had on a hat. It was hard for the Aldens to see the driver’s face.
“Maybe whoever it is doesn’t know the Barn is closed today. I’ll tell the driver,” Jessie said. She jumped up and started toward the white car. But before she could take two steps, the car pulled away.
“Oh,” said Jessie, stopping in surprise.
“Maybe the person wasn’t waiting for the shop to open. Maybe whoever it was just stopped to read a map,” said Violet.
“I guess,” said Jessie.
Just then, Brianna drove up. “You’re nice and early,” Brianna said as she got out of her car.
“Benny thought we should be,” Henry said, laughing.
“Yes,” said Benny. “We beat you. And Katy!”
Katy, who had just walked up to the shop from her house, smiled. She said, “Well, let’s go in the back way, since we’re not open today.” She led the way around the side of the Ice Cream Barn and stopped so suddenly that Jessie, who was right behind her, almost crashed into her.
“Oh, no,” said Katy.
“What?” asked Brianna.
Katy pointed. A small stack of square white boxes and two large containers, all decorated with a blue stripe, stood by the back door. The box labels read
MARTINE BLUE RIBBON ICE CREAM VENDORS
.
“Those look like ice-cream sandwiches,” Katy said. “But...”
Brianna rushed past her and pried open the lid of the top box. “They
were
ice-cream sandwiches. Now they’re just a melted mess.”
“These say ‘Vanilla Ice Cream,’ ” Violet said, leaning over to inspect the printing on the side of the two large containers. “Five gallons each.”
“Vanilla ice-cream soup,” said Henry, observing the milky puddle spreading out from the bottom of one container.
“Here’s a bill taped to the back door,” said Brianna. “It’s from Marcos. I don’t believe it!” She turned to Katy. “Did you order ice cream for today, Granna?”
“Of course not!” Katy said, shocked. “We’re always closed on Tuesdays and Marcos knows that. We never take deliveries on Tuesdays.”
“Maybe he forgot,” said Benny
“Marcos would never forget something like that,” said Katy.
Brianna unlocked the back door and pushed it open. They followed her through a small storage room. On their left were the tall, gleaming doors of a large walk-in freezer. Next to the freezer was a short hall leading to a closed door with the word OFFICE painted on it.
Katy said, “Brianna, why don’t you show the Aldens around while I make a few phone calls and try to find out from Marcos what happened.”
Brianna nodded. She took a deep breath and smiled a little. “Mistakes happen,” she said. “It’s just too bad this had to happen just as we’re trying to expand our business.”
“It’ll be okay,” Violet said sympathetically.
Brianna smiled again. “Thanks, Violet. Okay, folks, here’s where the grand tour of the Ice Cream Barn starts. We’re standing in the main storage room. On the shelves over here are the supplies we use most often: straws and napkins and sprinkles and nuts. Those shelves hold our dishes for sundaes, our glasses for ice-cream floats, and so forth. That big stainless steel door opens onto our walk-in freezer.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of ice cream,” Benny said, peering inside.
“It’s actually pretty small for a walk-in freezer,” Brianna said. “I’ve seen much bigger ones. But unlike some places, we don’t keep our ice cream for a long time. Granna thinks it changes the flavor, and I agree.”
“What do you do with ice cream you don’t sell, then?” asked Henry.
“Throw it away. But that hardly ever happens,” Brianna said. “We know just how much to make and how much to order. Granna Katy has been in this business for a long time. Anyway, over there is our big refrigerator, for supplies that don’t need to be in the freezer, like whipped cream.”
Brianna led the way into a small room with high windows. In the middle was a stainless steel object that looked sort of like a very old washing machine. “And this is where we make our own ice cream.”
“Wow,” said Henry.
“Amazing,” said Jessie.
“It works more or less like a small ice-cream maker,” Brianna explained. “We put in cream and eggs and sugar and flavorings, and the ice-cream maker churns the ingredients and freezes them to the right texture and temperature. But it takes longer and makes lots more ice cream than the kind of machine you can buy for your home.”
“Is that what you use to make new flavors of ice cream?” Violet asked.
“Not right away. First we use a regular ice-cream maker to make very small batches of the flavors. If we like them, then we use this machine to make bigger batches and try them out in the store.”
They went back out into the storage room and Brianna reached up and took down two smaller ice-cream makers from a shelf.
They’d just set them on the counter when Katy joined them. She was frowning.
“Did you reach Marcos?” Brianna asked.
Katy looked up and her frown deepened. “I did,” she said. “But he says he didn’t make a mistake. He says that someone called and placed an order with him and told him to leave it out back first thing this morning.”
“Who?” demanded Brianna.
“I don’t know,” said Katy. “He remembered the order, because he had trouble hearing it. He thought it was a bad phone connection. He wasn’t sure if the caller was male or female. Whoever it was, the person said he or she worked for us. The caller claimed to be the new assistant we hired because we were going to be open seven days a week.”
“So it wasn’t a mistake,” said Jessie.
Katy said, “No, Jessie, it was not a mistake. Someone did it deliberately. But why?”
There was a long silence.
Then Brianna said, “Maybe it’s somebody’s dumb idea of a funny joke.”
“Not funny,” snapped Katy “Expensive. We’re going to have to pay for that ice cream even though we can’t sell it. With all the costs of buying the ice-cream wagon, the new equipment for it, and Butterscotch, we’re really going to have to watch every penny now.”
“What if it’s not a joke?” asked Jessie slowly. “What if someone did it to hurt you?”
“If it’s not a joke, then, well, I don’t know what to think,” said Katy. “Who would want to do this to us?”
Brianna seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then she shook her head firmly. “No one would,” she said. “No one would want to hurt our business.”
Henry asked, “Who knows you order from Marcos’s company?”
“Anybody who has seen his truck parked outside and him unloading it,” Katy said.
“Or anyone who has seen the signs in here,” Brianna said, pointing. “We label all the ice cream we order from Marcos and we label our own special flavors and treats so customers will know which is which.”
“Oh,” said Henry.
“That’s not much of a clue, then,” said Violet.
“Well, I’ve told Marcos to only take delivery orders from me from now on,” Katy said. “And he’s going to call before he delivers, just to make sure.”
“That’s good,” said Brianna.
“Making ice cream would be good, too,” Benny hinted.
Katy smiled at him. “You’re right, Benny. Let’s get started. Any ideas about new flavors?”
“Peanut butter,” said Benny.
“Chocolate anything,” said Henry.
“Maybe both,” suggested Jessie.
“And crunchy, too,” added Violet.
“Sounds delicious! Let’s gather some ingredients, then,” said Brianna. Violet was relieved to see her smiling again.
Later that day, as the Aldens wheeled their bicycles home, their stomachs too full to ride, they talked about the prank at the Ice Cream Barn.
“I just don’t believe it was meant to be a joke,” said Jessie. “It was too mean.”
“I agree,” said Henry. “But why? And who? It could be anybody.”
“I think Brianna has an idea about someone who could have done it,” said Violet softly.
“I noticed that, too,” said Jessie. “When Katy wondered who might do something like that, Brianna almost said something. But then she stopped.”
“Do you think whoever it is will play any more jokes?” asked Benny.
“I don’t know, Benny,” said Henry. “But I do think we should keep a sharp eye out for clues—and for more trouble.”
“I think you’re right,” said Jessie. “I think it’s the beginning of a mystery.”
“I know,” said Benny. “I could get a job at the Ice Cream Barn and look for clues that way!”
“I don’t think you’re quite old enough yet, Benny,” said Violet.
“Are you sure?” said Benny.
“But it’s not a bad idea, Benny,” said Henry. “Maybe I’ll see if they want to hire me. I’m old enough. I’ll go back tomorrow and talk to Katy and Brianna.”
The next day, Jessie, Violet, Benny, and Watch waited on a bench in the park near the ice-cream shop while Henry went to talk to Katy and Brianna about a job. Benny was very excited. If Henry got a job at the Ice Cream Barn, he would be able to watch for suspects.
And maybe,
Benny thought,
he’d be able to bring home lots of ice cream!