The Last Great Adventure of the PB & J Society

by Janet Sumner Johnson

“Do I look okay?” I spread my arms wide, splashing water at her.

  She clutched her purse tight and stepped back. “Oh, well … I came to show you my Prada purse since you were grounded, but …” Her voice trailed off and she didn’t even try to show the thing to me.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Maybe I’ll try again later when you’re … better?”

  I didn’t bother to reply. I simply turned and climbed the porch stairs, shoes squishing with each step.

  “Mom?” I stood on the doorstep waiting, but no answer. That’s when I saw it. On the counter sat a half-prepared casserole. Broccoli casserole. It was a conspiracy!

  I wanted to scream. This was the worst day ever! I decided not to care about the wet footprints. I stomped to my room and slammed the door.

  The whole thing was so unfair. Forced off the tramp, bullied into the ditch, my humiliation witnessed by Lila, and now broccoli casserole waiting to comfort me. Well no thank you!

  By the time I’d changed, I had an idea. What if I just didn’t go to dinner? What if I pretended to be asleep? It could work.

  Before anyone found me, I jumped into bed and pulled up the covers. They felt warm and cozy after the cold, wet ditch. I closed my eyes and imagined the moment when Jason and I could dig up Black Marge’s treasure. Jason’s dad would smile like he used to and tell Jason how proud he was. My mom would say, “That’s our Annie!”

  But then Leonard the Lout appeared, and he looked a lot like Matt’s greasy friend. “That thar treasure be mine. Arrrgh! Hand it over or ye’ll be walkin’ the plank.”

  He pointed at a diving board attached to my back porch. Instead of my yard, a massive broccoli casserole sloshed below with bright green broccoli monsters leaping out of the sauce. They snapped their teeth at me in anticipation.

  But I knew what Leonard would do to the treasure. I took a daring step forward to face him, but Jason cut between us. He held out red, swollen hands. “I’ve got the curse! Come any closer and I’ll touch you. You’ll be branded with cooties the rest of your life.”

  Leonard shuffled backward. He turned to run when Mrs. Schuster grabbed him by the ear and dragged him away. “You just leave town before my Ned hears about you.”

  I stirred from my dream. My parents’ voices crept into my mind.

  “No, don’t wake her. I wonder if she’s coming down with something. She was dragging through the house earlier. I thought she was just moping about Jason.”

  “Well, I guess we can tell the kids after she wakes up.”

  I snuggled into my covers. Tell us what? I wondered, but I was already back at the treasure chest.

  ***

  When I woke up, I heard the clanging of dishes. I smiled as I wandered from my room, rubbing my eyes.

  “Sleeping Beauty’s awake.” Dad stuck a plate in the dishwasher.

  “Dad! You’re home early.” I ran to give him a hug.

  “I missed you, too, sweet pea.”

  “How are you feeling?” Mom asked.

  “Fine. But I guess I missed dinner.” I hung my head.

  “You did, but we saved you a plate.” Mom opened the microwave, but it was empty. “It was right here. Sam, did you see a plate of food when you were clearing the table?”

  Dad adjusted his glasses. “Was that for Annie?”

  “Oh, Sam, you didn’t.”

  He reached for mom’s hand. “You know I can’t resist your broccoli casserole.”

  I could have kissed him. Home early one time and already he was saving the day. I wished he could be home more often.

  Mom snapped the dish towel at him with a grin and then turned to me. “So, what to get you for dinner? Cereal? Peanut butter and jelly?”

  “Or,” Dad interrupted. “Since this is my fault, maybe I could take you to McDonald’s.”

  My grin must have reached my ears. I couldn’t believe my luck. Finally, after such a rotten week, my plans were working out perfectly.

  Mom leaned against the counter. “Tonight? We had other plans. Remember?”

  “Then let’s take all the kids. Ice cream cones for everyone. We can tell them there.”

  Mom sighed. “Fine. Let me get my purse. We can finish the dishes later.”

  Ten minutes later, the minivan pulled into the parking lot. Kate glared at Mom and Dad. “This is so unfair!” she said for the fifteenth time. “Why does she get McDonald’s when the rest of us had to have broccoli casserole?”

  Dad just smiled. “You’re right. It’s not fair. Poor Annie missed out on your mom’s delicious meal and has to settle for McDonald’s. I appreciate your concern for your sister, though.”

  I couldn’t have planned a better revenge. The memory of Kate’s face would get me through a year of teasing. I only wished I had a camera.

  Matt jostled me when he climbed out and threw me a dirty look, but I didn’t care. I got McDonald’s.

  Once we were seated in the round booth, I did my best to make the meal last as long as possible. I was nibbling the edges of my last nugget when Dad cleared his throat, a serious expression on his face.

  “Your mom and I have something to tell you.”

  Kate sat up straight, horror written on her face. “Is this about that ‘meeting’ at the hospital? You’re not going to tell us Mom’s pregnant, are you?” She slumped in her seat. “This keeps getting better and better.”

  Matt squirmed. “Good thing I already finished my ice cream or I might be sick.”

  I grinned. Finally! Someone I could boss around.

  Mom sighed. “No, I’m not pregnant. I’m going back to work at the hospital. I start training in two days, then I’ll be on the night shift starting next week.”

  I choked on my last bite. “But who’s going to take care of us? Make our lunches? Wash our clothes?” The nuggets I’d eaten suddenly felt like rocks in my stomach. In one fell swoop, my perfect revenge was ruined.

  Dad laid a hand on my shoulder. “That’s the good news. I was laid off from my job today, so I get to stay home with you.”

  13

  I crawled out from behind Mrs. Schuster’s rose bush and held up a fistful of weeds. “You were right. There were a lot back there.” I chucked them at the already-full bucket.

  Mrs. Schuster sat back on her foam pad and wiped at her forehead. “Ned would be horrified at how far I’ve let this patch go. It was always his favorite. But I don’t have the energy to keep up with everything anymore. Just don’t tell my son that.”

  “Well it looks good to me. If you hadn’t asked me to go back there, I’d never have noticed. No one would have.”

  “But I’d have known,” Mrs. Schuster said. “So thank you for helping. I couldn’t have gotten them myself.”

  I crouched down to examine the flowerbed Mrs. Schuster was weeding. “My mom always wished her flowers could look like yours. But I guess that won’t happen now.” I brushed a finger across a purple flower, trying to ignore the lump forming in my throat.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  I kept my eyes on the dirt, searching for the tiny weeds Mrs. Schuster insisted were killing the flowers. Complaints buzzed through my mind, but I shook my head.

  Only day two of mom at work, and already I was sick of it. No fresh-baked cookies waiting when I got home from school. No mom to make math homework fun. I could barely stand to think about the things in my lunch Dad tried to pass off as peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was just as well Jason didn’t need that second one anymore. And though I’d saved them with the others, I doubted they’d even qualify for the cemetery.

  At least I had the bake sale. Mom had promised she didn’t have to work.

  Still, thank goodness for Mrs. Schuster. Though I’d have died laughing if someone told me a week ago I’d think that.

  “You know, you and Cap’n Black Marge ha
ve a lot in common.”

  I frowned. “Why? Did her mom have to work?”

  Mrs. Schuster chuckled. “I meant that she faced some rotten situations, too. But she always came out on top.”

  “You mean like the time those rival pirates threw her and her crew into the brig of her own ship?” Mrs. Schuster had told me the story yesterday, at breakfast. “They really should have made sure they took all the keys from her first.”

  “In their defense, Marge did hide it pretty well.” Mrs. Schuster pulled off her gardening gloves. “And did I tell you? After that, her crew thought she was a genius, plus she doubled their treasure by claiming the bounty on those thugs. So, see? Good from a bad situation.”

  I shrugged. “I guess, but I just don’t see any good from my mom going back to work.” Or Jason moving.

  “Well, keep your eyes peeled. You never know when that good will happen. For now, I think we’re finished here. Shall we go eat those cookies I promised? And perhaps another round of Mancala? I still can’t believe you beat me your first time playing.”

  “Sure.” I hopped up and gathered the tools we’d used. It was nice to have something besides my mom to think about. Even though Mancala was a crazy old game — not electronic at all — it was still cool. Plus, Mrs. Schuster claimed Black Marge got the set on one of her trips to Africa.

  It wasn’t very often you got to play with an ancient relic. Jason would be jealous. At least he would be as soon as I was allowed to talk to him again. Only nine days to go. Two hundred and eight hours. Twelve thousand four hundred and eighty minutes. But who was counting?

  “Annie!” Dad stood at the end of our yard. “Time for dinner! Plus you have soccer tonight. We need to hurry!”

  My stomach flip-flopped. Soccer practice. With Jason. I grinned.

  I waved at my dad. “I’ll be there in a minute!” When Dad went back inside, I apologized to Mrs. Schuster. “I forgot about soccer. Can we play tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be here.” She bent down and whispered in my ear. “Should I sneak you some rations? Or do you think he’ll do better this time?”

  I laughed. “If you hear a tap on your window later, you’ll know why.”

  When I got home, I was surprised by how good it smelled. Like something Mom would have made. After yesterday’s “blackened” barbecue chicken and broccoli mush, I didn’t think Dad was capable of making anything that smelled this good.

  I ran up the stairs ready to eat, but I was annoyed to find Dad just standing behind Kate at the piano. Kate was playing Moonlight Sonata for about the billionth time.

  “I thought you said dinner was ready!”

  Dad just waved me off. “I’m listening,” he mouthed.

  I glared at his back. When Mom called us for dinner, it was on the table. And hadn’t he said we were in a hurry?

  “Watch out, cheesebreath!” Matt pushed past me and headed for the kitchen. He had an air-filled bike-tire tube in his black, greasy hands.

  I followed him and watched as he smeared black all over the handles of the kitchen faucet.

  “Mom’s gonna be mad,” I informed him. “You know she doesn’t let you …”

  “Mom’s not here, is she?” Matt didn’t look up. He rotated the tire through the water-filled sink. “Ah-hah! There you are.” Splashing water onto the floor, he grabbed a dish towel and rubbed it on the tire before marking it with a pen.

  I gaped at the black streaks on the white cloth, then folded my arms. “But Dad is. You are so dead.”

  Matt rolled his eyes. “Wanna bet on that, sis?” He shouldered his way past harder than he needed to and bounded down the stairs.

  I didn’t even notice Kate had stopped playing until Dad spoke. “Did you know he can change a tire in five minutes flat? Pretty awesome. I asked him to fix all those bikes I’ve been meaning to get to. Now you can ride your bike again. Isn’t that great?”

  “But Mom never lets him use the kitchen sink. Especially not at dinner! And did you see what he did to her dishcloth?”

  Dad ruffled my hair. “You inherited your mom’s worrying, didn’t you? Dishcloths wash, and I told him to use the kitchen sink because it’s the best one for fixing tires. Now let’s eat so we can get you to soccer practice.”

  My stomach swirled. Suddenly I didn’t feel hungry. And this time it was before seeing what Dad had made.

  “Move it or lose it, squirt.” Kate flipped her hair in my face and flounced to the kitchen. “Some of us have lives.”

  “Now, Kate.” Dad gave her a look, then turned to the Crock-Pot on the counter. “Your mom started her famous chicken noodle soup before she left this morning, so dinner should be better today. All I had to do was add the noodles, which I did first thing this morning.”

  “It sure smells better,” I said.

  Dad dunked a ladle in the pot, then pulled it out frowning. “What the … ?” A big mass of something grayish oozed yellow slime back into the Crock-Pot.

  “What is that?” Kate asked.

  “That doesn’t look like Mom’s soup,” I said.

  “But I followed her instructions!” Dad picked up the note. “See? Just add the noodles from the freezer. Right there.”

  Kate looked at the note. She rolled her eyes. “Geez, Dad. It says ‘Just add the noodles from the freezer one hour before eating.’ Didn’t you read the whole thing?”

  Dad’s shoulders drooped for a second, then he perked back up. “So the noodles are mush. Big deal. The soup part will still taste the same.” He plopped the gray mass into the sink, then dunked the ladle again. This time it held thick, yellow pudding with orange and green blobs.

  Matt barged into the kitchen and skidded to a stop. “What is that?”

  Kate and I shared a look. Which was kind of weird because that just doesn’t happen. “That’s supposed to be Mom’s chicken noodle soup,” she said.

  “Cereal again? I vote yes.” Kate was already pulling out the Sugar-dusted Wheat Squares.

  “Well, I’m having soup. You kids are just too picky.” Dad plopped the pudding into a bowl and took a big, fat bite. After taking an exceptionally long time to swallow, he dumped the stuff into the sink. “Can you pull out the Wheaties, Kate?”

  14

  Saturday morning was supposed to be exciting. The first day Mom had off since she started working, and the bake sale. But Mom came to breakfast in scrubs.

  My spoon clinked against my bowl when I dropped it. “You have to work?”

  The toaster popped and my mom pulled out a piece of toast and buttered it. “I’m sorry, Annie. A friend needed the day off and I was the only one available. But it means I’ll have an extra day off next week. Won’t that be nice?”

  “But today’s the bake sale! You told me you didn’t have to work and I’ve already posted fliers around the neighborhood. Have you even made any cookies yet?”

  “No cookies, sis. Trust me, I would have eaten them if she had.” Matt stuffed a bite of Fruity Discs in his mouth.

  Mom frowned. “Don’t tease, Matt. And Annie, as I recall the bake sale is your project, not mine. You’re ten. It’s time you started pitching in more.”

  “How can I make cookies if you don’t let me use the oven?” I crossed my arms, and my spoon, along with a bunch of milk, flew out of my bowl.

  Kate’s chair squealed when she scooted back from the table. “Watch it, squirt! Some of us care how we look.”

  “Oh, Annie.” Mom hurried a paper towel to me. “Clean up your mess, please.”

  I mopped up the milk, scowling the whole time.

  “What’s the problem?” Dad entered the kitchen and kissed Mom on the cheek as he stole a piece of her toast. “Thank you, m’love.”

  Mom sighed. “Today is supposed to be Annie’s bake sale. With all the training videos I’ve had to watch, I just forgot to make cookies.”

&
nbsp; Dad shrugged. “I can help. What time’s the bake sale?”

  “One o’clock,” I said. But I didn’t want Dad’s help. I wanted Mom’s. The posters advertised “Mrs. Jenkins’s” cookies. Not Mr. Jenkins’s. I glowered at the paper napkin.

  “And maybe Kate can help, too,” Dad said.

  Kate carried her bowl to the sink. “Sorry. Emma and I are working on a history project at her house. It’s worth one-third of our grade.”

  “Matt?”

  “No can do, mi padre. I’ll be mowing the lawn. Which reminds me. I’d like payment in full before this evening, please. Jimmy and I are going to the movies.”

  Mom had pulled out a cookbook and was flipping through the pages. “And what movie might that be?”

  “Oh you know, some R-rated movie full of blood and guts and violence.”

  Mom gave him the look.

  “Kidding! Just don’t forget the money. I was serious about that.”

  Mom sighed, then plopped the book in Dad’s arms. “Here. Here’s my recipe that gets all the compliments.”

  He set it on the counter. “Well this doesn’t look hard.”

  I should have canceled the bake sale right then. But Jason’s house was on the line. Plus, Mom got us started on the recipe. She even explained the thing, word by word. Surely Dad couldn’t mess that up, could he?

  We mixed dough right up until it was time to leave for my game. The first time I’ve wished the game would just hurry and end. But Jason wasn’t there, and I had to deal with Lila, who suddenly thought she was my new best friend what with Jason out of the picture. She was on me before the game even began.

  “So I saw your flier and had the most fabulous idea! I could totally join you. My mom has the best recipe for lemonade. And then you wouldn’t have to sit there alone. Plus you’d make a ton more sales in front of my house than yours.” She flipped her blond, ponytailed ringlets back as if they had anywhere to go.

  I watched them bob up and down before finally responding. “What about Jessica and Jenny? Don’t you have plans?”

  Lila dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Oh, they have some big dance competition in the city today. I was going to go with them, but they said no non-dancers allowed. You know how it is.”