Zinnia's Zaniness (8 page)

"I must say," Pete said, patting his belly, "I'm a bit hungry myself."

"It's odd," Mrs. Pete added, "but fish dogs don't stick with a person as long as a person might think they would."

"Well, don't look at me," Durinda said. "I'm not going to make everyone's breakfast. It's supposed to be my vacation too, after all."

We all turned to Jackie, sure she'd bail us out. And we were sure she was about to, since she was smiling and had opened her mouth to speak. But before any words could come out, someone else spoke.

"Fine," Georgia said. "I'll make breakfast for everybody."

We gaped at her.
Georgia
—
Georgia,
who never did anything resembling a chore unless sternly commanded to by Annie—was offering to make us all breakfast?

Our gaping continued as Georgia headed into the kitchen, and our gaping continued yet further at the ensuing racket that came from that room. The sound of cabinets opening and slamming shut, drawers being yanked out and slid in, the clatter of crockery, and the tinkling of silverware.

"She must be making us a feast in there," Annie said in a hushed voice.

"What's that other sound?" Jackie asked.

"Is Georgia humming?" Petal asked.

"No," Marcia corrected. "She's whistling. Georgia's whistling while she's working."

"Huh," Durinda said, sounding miffed. "I never whistle while I work."

"Is everyone ready for breakfast?" Georgia shouted to us.

We don't feel the need to recount our individual responses here. Suffice to say that basically we all shouted back, "Yes!"

"Ready or not," Georgia called, "here comes breakfast!"

A moment later Georgia emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray upon which sat two bowls, two spoons, a box, and ten juice boxes. She handed the bowls, which we now saw contained cereal, to the Petes and the box to Annie.

"Sorry," Georgia said, "but the little cottage doesn't come with service for ten, so I figured it was only fair that the Petes get the two bowls, since they are old."

"Older," Annie corrected with a smile toward the Petes, as though to prove the rest of us weren't as bad as, well, Georgia. "Georgia just means you're older than us and therefore worthy of respect."

Good save, Annie!

"What's this feast you've prepared for us?" Rebecca demanded of Georgia as we each reached for a juice box, pleased to see it was mango.

"Razzle Crunchies, of course," Georgia said, "the official cereal of the Sisters Eight."

"You made all that noise in the kitchen," Durinda said, "just to wind up serving us a box of Razzle Crunchies?"

"It was a very involved process," Georgia said. "Anyway, I thought it was rather wonderful that Mr. Pete was able to find Razzle Crunchies at the little Seaside grocery store. I always assumed Razzle Crunchies were a delicacy available for sale only in the town where we live. Now, eat up, everybody, so we can get to the beach."

"But how are we supposed to eat up," Rebecca said, "when the Petes are the only ones with bowls and Annie's holding the box?"

"Oh, right," Georgia said. "Well, since there are only two bowls, we're supposed to just pass the box among ourselves and shove our hands in and grab what we like." Georgia turned to Annie. "Do you think you could stop hogging the box now?"

"Sorry," Annie said, grabbing a handful and handing the box to Durinda, who accepted the box grudgingly.

"When
I
make breakfast," Durinda muttered, "it doesn't go like this."

"Um, terrific breakfast, Georgia," Pete said politely around a mouthful of Razzle and Crunch.

"Where's Call?" Zinnia said suddenly, looking worried. "I haven't seen him since last night. Call! Call!"

"Oh no," Petal said. "Call is probably one of those traitor pigeon pets you're always hearing about in the news. Probably right this minute Call is off somewhere trading our secrets with the enemy in exchange for better pigeon food."

We ignored Petal.

"Call! Call!" Zinnia shouted as she moved from room to room.

We wished we could ignore Zinnia too, and we would have if she hadn't been shouting so loudly.

"Call! Ca—"

"Oh, good," Jackie said. "Zinnia must have found Call, because she's stopped shouting."

"Or else she found Call dead," Rebecca added, then added some more. "Or else Zinnia's dead."

But as it turned out, neither dire outcome was the case, which we saw when Zinnia entered with Call perched on her shoulder.

"Where did you find Call?" Jackie asked.

"Outside," Zinnia said happily, "with the cats. Call and Zither were having a conversation. I think they were trying to get to know each other better."

Oh, Zinnia.

***

"Isn't anyone going in the water?" Pete asked.

We were back on the beach again, in the same spot we'd been in the day before. We all had our bathing suits on, except for Petal, who had on—well, you know.

"I said," Pete said, "isn't anyone going in the water? No one went in yesterday."'

We ignored Pete, although what he said was true. We hadn't gone in yesterday, and we weren't going in today, because, well, we were somewhat scared of the water here. Back home, we didn't have an ocean. Back home, all we had was a wading pool we'd outgrown and that had never been scary in the first place, except maybe to Petal. But this, this...
ocean
—it was so vast. We couldn't even see where it ended. We were scared of things we couldn't see the end of, the great uncertainty of it all.

"This is so odd," Pete said. "Why come to the Seaside and then just sit by the side part and not go in the sea part?"

"But there are plenty of other things to do by the side of the sea," Annie pointed out.

"Things that are even more fun than actually going into the sea," Durinda added.

"Like what?" Pete said.

"We could play beach volleyball," Jackie suggested.

"I'm fairly certain that's something people do at the side of the sea," Marcia added.

"Do you see a volleyball or a net anywhere?" Georgia scoffed.

We didn't mind so much her scoffing at Marcia, but we rather did mind her scoffing at Jackie.

"Why don't we bury Petal up to her neck in the sand?" Rebecca suggested. "Burying people up to their necks in the sand is definitely a by-the-sea activity, and anyway, with all the clothes Petal's wearing, she's practically buried already."

"Oh no," Petal said forcefully. "You won't catch me letting myself be buried in the sand. That's a terribly dangerous thing for a person to allow to happen to herself. A passing pigeon might think my head was a perch, and then where would I be? I'd be known as Petal the Pigeon Perch. It would be so embarrassing."

We didn't think anything could be more embarrassing than the outfit Petal was wearing.

"Or else," Petal went on, "you might bury me and then all decide you wanted to get snow cones. So you'd run off to do that, leaving me here alone, and then you wouldn't be able to find me again later because all I'd be is a tiny head in the crowd and I'd be stuck here the rest of my life."

We hadn't thought the fear of being a pigeon perch could be topped, but somehow she'd managed to do it.

"Or else—" Petal started in on yet another new fear, but Rebecca cut her off.

"Fine," Rebecca said. "You can all bury me, then. I don't mind.
I
think it would be rather fun to be buried."

So that's what we did, buried Rebecca up to her neck in the sand. We had to admit: burying Rebecca was rather fun. In fact, we wondered why we hadn't thought of it earlier.

"Now what?" Georgia asked, once Rebecca was entirely covered up to her neck, only her head remaining visible. "Do we just sit around here and stare at your head all day, Rebecca? The burying part was fun but I don't see staring at your head all day as being much of a game."

"I think," Zinnia said, slowly rising to her feet, "I'll take a little dip in the ocean."

What?

"What?" Pete said.

We hadn't told Pete about our fear—of course we hadn't told him that—but the tone of his voice told us he'd picked up on it on his own. It was funny how Pete could be intelligent like that at times.

"It'll just be a little dip," Zinnia said, heading toward the water's edge. "I shouldn't be too long."

"Don't go too far!" Pete shouted after her. "Do you see those buoys bobbing a little ways out? Don't go past that line!"

Without turning, Zinnia waved her hand in the air, acknowledging that she'd heard Pete.

We watched with interest as Zinnia stood at the edge of the water and got her toes wet. We watched with interest as she kicked at the water playfully with her feet. We watched with interest as she began walking out into the water, jumping over tiny waves as they came at her.

"Don't go too far out!" Pete shouted again, rising to his feet as Zinnia waded farther into the ocean.

We'd been doing a lot of watching with interest, but now we watched in horror as a dark shape beneath the surface of the water made straight for Zinnia.

"Oh no!" Petal shouted. "It's a shark!"

"Shark!" Pete shouted, running toward the water. "Zinnia, get out of the water!"

"Shark!" we all shouted, including Mrs. Pete, as we all ran after Pete.

"Shark!" Rebecca's head shouted.

We'd never run so fast in our lives, and as we ran, we saw more dark shapes beneath the surface heading straight for Zinnia. But why wasn't Zinnia moving? Why wasn't she running from the ocean? Why wasn't she trying to save herself?

And then, as we plunged into the surf, heedless of the danger to ourselves in our quest to save Zinnia, we saw that the dark shapes weren't sharks at all.

We froze where we were, stared.

Under a sky so perfectly blue it might have been colored with one of the crayons from our box back home, and as the sunlight shimmered on the ocean, making sparkling diamond spots on the green waves, we saw that what we'd thought were sharks were dolphins, all swimming around Zinnia as though she were one of them.

NINE

Pete let out a low whistle.

"I'd never believe this," Pete said, "if I weren't seeing it with my own eyes."

We'd heard Pete say similar things on a few previous occasions, whenever he witnessed the results of one of us getting her power.

Well, we knew this couldn't be that. This was simply ... whatever it was.

"Dolphins don't typically come in this close to the shore," Pete said.

"I wouldn't have thought they could," Mrs. Pete said.

We ignored the Petes, overcoming our frozen state to join Zinnia amid the dolphins.

"What about me?" Rebecca's head shouted to us.

We ignored Rebecca's head too.

We'd heard the word
frolic
before, but we couldn't say it was an activity any of us had ever engaged in. We did so now, however, frolicking in the ocean with Zinnia and the dolphins and even the Petes, who were frolicking too.

The dolphins were so beautiful, with their gray skin and their wide mouths that looked like great big smiles. And they were so friendly too. They did seem to like Zinnia better than they liked the rest of us put together, but they didn't entirely ignore us. In fact, they let us pet them, and they didn't spit on us, so we figured they must like us well enough.

"What about me?" Rebecca's head shouted.

"These may not be sharks," Petal said, suddenly sounding worried, "but what's that black thing heading toward us?"

We looked up in time to see the dark fin snaking its way to us.

Now we froze in fear.

All except for Zinnia, that is, who tilted her head to one side, frowning at the approaching fin.

The fin abruptly ceased approaching, turned, and headed out to sea again.

"How odd," Annie said as we all relaxed.

"How lucky," Durinda said.

Zinnia said nothing.

"This is so much fun," Jackie said, petting a dolphin.

"Almost as much fun as getting caught in an avalanche," Georgia admitted.

"I wonder how many dolphins there are here," Marcia said. "Maybe I should count them?"

"I would like to stay and keep doing this," Petal said, "but the water has waterlogged my bathrobe and all the other clothes I've got on, and I do believe I'm about to slip beneath the surface and drown."