Jumbo marshmallows.
Where were the jumbo marshmallows?
Harriet knelt on her kitchen floor, peering into the depths of the snack cupboard. Her long, dark pigtails grazed the floor as she squinted into the back of the shelves. No marshmallows.
“If I were a jumbo marshmallow, where would I be?” she said to herself as she closed the cabinet and got to her feet. She dusted off the knees of her emerald-green leggings. These always reminded her of The Wizard of Oz, which is why she’d paired the leggings with her red gingham farm-girl shirt and a denim miniskirt.
When picking out clothes, most people try to match colors or patterns. Harriet preferred to match themes. On some days, like today, the theme was subtle; on other days, it was so obvious, her outfits resembled costumes. Harriet liked it this way. Clothes should add drama and excitement. Otherwise, what was the point?
“Marshmallows!” she called. “Come out, come out wherever you are!”
Harriet hated silence; whenever she encountered quiet, she broke it. Luckily, her home was rarely quiet—and rarely empty. With a mom whose hair salon was in the basement, an artist dad whose studio was in the garage, and three older brothers—members of a rock band—someone was always around. Today, though, her parents were grocery shopping, her brothers were at a horror movie, and Harriet had stayed home since neither activity held any interest for her. Marshmallows, on the other hand, were of great interest.
Harriet opened the cabinet that held the pots and pans—no luck—and then the one with all the plates and bowls. She did find something wonderful there, but it wasn’t the bag of marshmallows. Curled into a salad bowl was her brothers’ pet skink, Zappa, sleeping soundly. The pink stretchy headband Harriet had placed over the reptile’s head had slipped and was covering her eyes like a sleeping mask.
“Zappa bo bappa,” Harriet cooed. She lifted the reptile out of the bowl and cradled her in her arms. Zappa opened her eyes and clambered onto Harriet’s shoulder. She clamped her tiny claws onto Harriet’s shirt and promptly resumed sleeping.
Harriet was just adjusting the headband on Zappa’s head when she heard a knock at the door. She was thrilled. If there was one thing Harriet liked more than visitors, it was surprise visitors.
“Coming!” she bellowed, and skipped to the door, clutching Zappa so the skink didn’t fall. She looked through the peephole and found her friends Amelia, Didi, and Resa standing on the front steps.
“Hiiiiii!” she cried, flinging open the door.
Resa and Amelia were facing each other, in the middle of a heated debate.
“You’re joking, right?” Resa was saying. “The carbon fiber racket is so much better than the aluminum! End of discussion.”
Amelia shook her head in wonder. “I don’t know why I thought taking tennis lessons with you might be stressful.”
“Come in!” Harriet squealed. “I’m so glad to seeeeeeeee you!”
She clapped her hands, which made Zappa pick up her head and look around before deciding it was nothing worth waking up for. Didi, who’d been standing on the top step, startled at the sight of Zappa’s moving, and she would have bolted if Harriet hadn’t grabbed her hand just then.
“Don’t worry, Didi,” said Harriet as she pulled her inside. “I’ll keep Zappa out of your hair.” She raised her eyebrows way up and nodded quickly. “Get it? Out of your … hair? Because of how Zappa got tangled in your hair last time?”
“Uh, yeah, I remember,” said Didi nervously. Her long, wavy hair, the color of chestnuts, hung loose around her shoulders and down her back. She gathered it together and shoved it inside her sweatshirt, then pulled the hood up and cinched it closed.
Harriet knew Didi didn’t like skinks. Not just skinks, actually, but all reptiles. Not just reptiles, actually, but most animals. Harriet could not fathom this. It was like not liking ice cream or birthdays. Harriet adored animals. Especially the scaly little sucker attached to her shoulder.
“I’m so glad you all are here!” Harriet exclaimed as she led the girls into the small, bright kitchen. “I have been bored out of my gourd! And I can’t find the jumbo marshmallows anywhere!” She opened the fridge and peered inside.
“You keep your marshmallows in the fridge?” asked Amelia. She tucked her pale blond hair behind her ears in a gesture that had become such a force of habit she didn’t even realize she was doing it.
“No,” said Harriet, “but things end up in weird places in this house. Once, I found my hairbrush in here, in the fruit drawer.” She closed the fridge and began to search the broom closet.
Resa followed behind her. “We come with exciting news! Harriet, you are not going to believe what we just read in the newspaper.”
“Was it a headline that said, ‘Marshmallow thief arrested’?” asked Harriet, closing the closet door.
“Uh, no,” replied Resa. “It’s about your favorite—Harriet, watch out!”
Harriet had clambered onto the kitchen counter and was pulling herself up to standing so she could peek over the top of the cabinets.
Instinctively, Resa put her hands up behind Harriet, spotting her. “You’re gonna fall!”
Harriet raised herself up on tiptoe and peeked over the top of the cabinet. “Aha!” Something was there, though it was hard to tell what from a quick glimpse. Steadying herself with one hand, she reached out with the other and closed her fingers around … something.
“Bingo!” she exclaimed as she pulled it down. It wasn’t the bag of marshmallows, but it was something she’d been looking for.
“Oh, curling iron, how I’ve missed you!” Harriet said.
She turned to show the girls the treasure she’d uncovered, but the sudden movement threw her off balance. She took a step back and would have fallen off the counter if Resa’s hands hadn’t been there to shove her back into place. In the hubbub, the curling iron flew out of her hands, hitting Amelia in the arm. Amelia’s shriek startled Zappa, and the skink made a run for it, darting down Harriet’s body, then down Resa’s body, and then onto the kitchen floor.
“Nooooo!” Didi screamed. “Not again!”
She scrambled onto the kitchen table, knocking off books and papers and cereal boxes. She crossed her arms in an X in front of her face, as if she were warding off vampires.
But Zappa wasn’t interested in Didi. Instead, she darted over to the thirsty-looking ficus in the corner and dragged something out from behind it with her mouth.
Resa walked over to investigate.
“Looks like Zappa solved the mystery of the missing marshmallows.” Resa pulled the bag of jumbo confections from Zappa’s mouth. The skink paused for a moment, considering her next move, then padded out of the kitchen.
“Hallelujah!” Harriet exclaimed. She jumped down from the counter with a thud.
“Not so fast!” Resa ordered, holding the marshmallows high above her head. “You’ll get these after you listen to our news! Now, sit!”
Harriet lifted her brother’s calculus textbook off the nearest chair and sat. She pantomimed zipping her mouth shut.
“You too, Didi,” Resa added. “The skink’s gone.”
Didi squinted open her eyes. “Aren’t there more around here?” she asked.
“Yes, but all the other skinks are in cages,” said Harriet. “Only Zappa gets to roam free.”
Didi carefully climbed off the table but kept her hood pulled tight over her hair.
“So,” said Resa. She drum-rolled her toes, clad in Converse per usual—yellow this time. “We were reading the paper, and there was an article about a big Battle of the Bands that’s happening at the high school at the end of this month.”
“And get this!” Amelia broke in. “The winner of the Battle of the Bands—”
“Gets to be on American Supahstars!” Resa announced.
Resa, Didi, and Amelia all watched Harriet’s face, bracing themselves for an explosion of joy. Harriet went off like a firecracker over the smallest thing, and this, right here, was genuinely big news.
But Harriet said nothing. Her face was blank and expressionless.
Harriet’s face was never blank and expressionless. It was always crowded with feelings—loud, intense, impossible-to-ignore feelings. So Resa tried again.
“The winner,” Resa repeated, “is going to be on American Supahstars!”
“Yeah,” Harriet said. “I read that this morning, too.”
Didi pushed her tortoiseshell eyeglasses up her nose. “We thought your brothers might want to enter the Battle of the Bands.”
“Right,” Harriet replied, nodding.
“We’re talking about American Supahstars,” Resa said, utterly perplexed. “Your favorite show? The one judged by Connor Mackelvoe, who you’ve written at least six fan letters to … Okay, I’m sorry, why are you not freaking out?”
It was true. Harriet loved American Supahstars. They all did, though Resa protested she only watched because it was so bad it was good, and Amelia swore she just liked hearing the inventive insults that Connor Mackelvoe hurled at contestants. But Harriet was the show’s biggest fan. And here she was not saying a word about the very real possibility that her brothers might appear on it.
Harriet knew she’d have to tell the girls the bad news about her brothers’ band, but she really didn’t want to. “Can I have the marshmallows now?” she asked. Still puzzled, Resa handed them over, and Harriet set about constructing a little marshmallow pyramid on the table in front of her.
She sighed heavily. “You’re totally right. It would be super cool for my brothers and a dream come true for me. But the band can’t be on American Supahstars.”
“Why not?” asked Didi.
“Because there is no band anymore,” Harriet said. She placed a pillowy marshmallow on the very top of the pyramid she’d built.
“The Skinks broke up,” she continued. “And it’s all my fault.”