Ivy and Bean (3 page)

“
Oooooh!
You’re in trouble now, Bernice Blue!” yelled Nancy. “I’m going to tell Mom!” Bernice was Bean’s real name. People used it only when they were yelling at her.

Bean couldn’t help it. She just had to stick her tongue out and say,
“Ppppppthbt!”
Then she just had to turn around and wiggle her behind at Nancy.

“That’s it!” Nancy yelled. “I’m getting Mom!” She stormed into the house.

For a minute, Bean felt happy. She loved making Nancy mad. But when Nancy was gone, Bean began to worry. Mom hated it when she did more than one bad thing at a time. Bean counted: taking the money, lying about her ankle, leaving the yard without asking, and wiggling her behind at Nancy. Four things. Five if you counted pretending to be a ghost. Bean was going to be in big trouble. How big? No dessert, for sure. No videos for a week, maybe. But it could be even worse. Her mom might send her to her room for the rest of the day. Bean hated that.

“Hide.”

Bean looked up. She had forgotten all about Ivy. Ivy was still sitting on her porch. She had been watching the whole time. She knew that the ghost of Mr. Killop was really Bean inside the bush. Bean expected her to be mad. But she didn’t look mad. She looked excited. “Hide,” she said again.

Hmm, thought Bean. Maybe Boring Ivy was right. If her mom couldn’t find her, she couldn’t send her to her room. If
she stayed out until dark, her parents would stop being mad and start being worried. Her mom might say, “Oh, my poor little Bean. My poor little baby!” Then they’d be so happy to see her when she came limping home that they probably wouldn’t punish her at all. They might even let her have
seconds
on dessert.

That settled it.

“Okay,” she said to Ivy. “Where?”

“Follow me.”

Ivy came down the stairs and slipped behind a bush growing against her house. Bean followed her and crouched down under the wide leaves.

“No, get up. This is just the beginning,” said Ivy. “I’m going to take you to a secret spot.”

“This isn’t it?” asked Bean. The bush looked pretty good to her.

“No. This is the passageway.” Ivy pressed her back against the house and edged along. Bean edged along, too, the wall scraping her back. They turned a corner and edged some more. Ivy’s house was big.

“Halt!” said Ivy. Bean halted. “Now,” said Ivy, “close your eyes, and I’ll take you to the secret spot.”

“What? How come I have to close my eyes?”

“Because it’s a secret,” said Ivy. “Duh.”

Bean couldn’t argue with that. Ivy looked like a wimp, but she didn’t talk like one. Bean closed her eyes. She felt Ivy take her by the elbow, and together they went down some steps. A door opened. More steps. Cool, damp air blew in Bean’s face. Then they went up some steps. Another door
opened. They were outside again. Ivy was taking Bean through some tall grass. “Shhh!” said Ivy suddenly. Bean froze. “Crouch down!” said Ivy. Bean crouched. There was a silence. “Okay, you can get up now.”

“What happened?” asked Bean.

“Spies,” said Ivy.

Bean figured Ivy was probably making that up.

“Now you can open your eyes,” Ivy said.

Bean opened her eyes. They were in a corner of Ivy’s backyard. There was a big rock on one side and a small tree on the other. Between them was a perfectly round puddle. “This is the secret spot?” asked Bean. She had expected something more secret looking. Like a cave.

“Yes. They’ll never find you here,” said Ivy. “You can stay for as long as you want. I’ll bring you food.”

“But I only need to stay until dinnertime,” Bean said.

Ivy looked disappointed. “I thought you wanted to run away.”

“I do. But only till dinner.”

“Oh.”

Bean felt bad about not staying. “Wouldn’t you get in trouble if your parents found out I was living here?” she asked.

“They don’t come out here much,” Ivy said. “My mom is afraid of ticks.”

“You probably don’t ever get in trouble anyway,” said Bean, feeling glum. “I’m always in trouble.”

“I do too get in trouble,” said Ivy.

“No, you don’t,” Bean said. “You read books all the time. You can’t get in trouble for reading books.”

Ivy said, “I will get in trouble— really huge trouble—if I do what I want to do. What I
plan
to do.”

Bean waited. “Well? What do you plan to do?”

Ivy looked all around before she whispered, “Spells. Magic. Potions.”

“Really? You mean like a witch?”

“Yes. Well. Not yet. But I’m going to be a witch,” said Ivy. Her eyes were glowing. “I’m learning how.”

Bean looked at Ivy’s black bathrobe. It was kind of dirty now, and some of the
little pieces of paper had fallen off. Bean saw that the papers were cut into star and moon shapes. Bean also saw that Ivy didn’t know how to draw stars. Some of them had four points and some only had three. The moons didn’t look so good either. “Is that a witch’s robe?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Ivy.

“Did you make it yourself?” asked Bean.

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice,” said Bean politely. It didn’t look like a witch’s robe. It looked goofy. “I didn’t know you could learn to be a witch. I thought you just had to
be
one.”

“That’s what most people think,” said Ivy. “But I’m learning. I probably know more than most born witches my age. I just learned this spell that makes you invisible.”

“Wow.” Bean could use that for sure. “Will you teach me? That would be great.”

“I haven’t done it yet,” Ivy admitted. “You’ve got to have a dead frog.”