“I can’t believe that’s what you wanted to buy with your hard-earned money,” said Bean’s dad. “Cheese!”
Bean and Ivy didn’t answer. They were happy. Each of them had a little red bag of Belldeloon cheese hooked over her wrist. The bags bounced against their legs as they walked across the parking lot. It felt nice.
“Why do you want cheese?” he asked.
“We like cheese,” said Bean. There was no reason to tell him about the wax. He wouldn’t understand.
“Especially lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size,” murmured Ivy, getting into the car.
They sat quietly in the backseat as Bean’s dad drove them home. They had planned everything out. They were going to wait until they got home to open their bags. They would each eat just one cheese ball that afternoon. Then they would switch off cheese days. Ivy was going to go first. Tomorrow, she would bring a Belldeloon ball to school. The next day, Bean would bring a Belldeloon ball. The cheese-bringer would split her wax with the non-cheese-bringer. Ivy was going to use her half circle of wax to make a tiny voodoo doll. Bean wanted to squish hers in front of Vanessa. For ten days, they were going to drive everyone in Emerson School crazy. It was going to be great.
“So!” called Bean’s dad from the front seat. “When are you going to start your writing?”
Ivy and Bean didn’t answer. They were thinking about wax.
“Girls!”
“What?” said Bean dreamily.
“You’re going to start writing when we get home, right?” he asked.
“Stop saying what! Your magazine! You’re going to start writing it today, right?”
“Magazine?”
“The magazine! The newspaper!” he yelled. “The one you sold! The Flopping Pancake!”
“Oh yeah. That,” Bean said. “You don’t have to yell.”
“Well? Are you going to start today?” He was still yelling a little.
“After we have some cheese,” said Bean. “Maybe.”
Bean’s dad pulled into the driveway. He stopped the car and then he turned around to look at Bean and Ivy with narrow eyes. “Before you have some cheese,” he said. “For sure.”
Dang.
“Okay. We did it. Can we have our cheese?” Bean said, coming into the kitchen with Ivy. “Where’d you hide the bags?”
Her dad looked up from his computer. “Let’s see this newspaper first.”
Bean handed him a piece of paper. At the top, it said The Flipping Pancake in enormous pink letters. Below that were some other words. Bean’s dad read them out loud. “Everyone on Pancake Court will be happy to know that Ivy and Bean just got Lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size. It costs five dollars a bag. But it’s worth it! Weather today: Cloudy.” He looked up at Bean.
“See, we did the weather, too. Can we have our cheese?” she asked.
“Bernice Blue, do you really think this is your best work?” he asked.
Oooh! Trick question! Grown-ups were sly. If you said No, they got mad. If you said Yes, they got mad. But you had to say something.
“Yes!” Bean said firmly.
“I don’t think so,” said her dad. He gave her a serious look.
Bean tried another way. She made her eyes big. “We did the best we could,” she said in a little voice. Ivy made her eyes big, too, and nodded sadly.
Her father frowned at her. “I don’t think so,” he said again sternly. “Listen, girls, you promised people news about Pancake Court. You took their money. You have to deliver what you promised. Once you’ve made a real newspaper, with real news, you can have your cheese. Not before.”
“That’s not fair!” cried Bean.
“It’s perfectly fair,” he said, frowning some more.
“How are we supposed to find news about Pancake Court?” Bean squawked. “Nothing ever happens around here.”
“Nonsense,” her father said. “Hundreds of things are happening all the time on Pancake Court. Your job is to go out there and get the story!” He waved his hands. “Go! Discover! Write!”
“It’s almost night,” said Bean, stalling.
“Nice try. It’s afternoon. Get out there!” he said. He sounded very enthusiastic. “Find out what makes Pancake Court tick!”
“And then we get our cheese?” Ivy asked.
“Give us news, give us truth, and you will get cheese!” he said, thumping his fist on the kitchen table.
Bean rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said to Ivy. “Let’s go get the stupid story.”
