“I am! I’m being careful not to mess it up. But I can tell him what happens — ’cause it happens!”
“It’s just better not to say anything,” I say. “Fairy tales are tricky. You never know what can mess it up.”
Jonah covers his mouth with his hand.
Ada and Jack come back to the table. Jack sets out the plates and glasses.
“Oh, Mum, listen to this,” Jack says. “Jonah told me that on the way to the market I’m going to meet a trader who’ll sell me beans for Princess Milka. He says the beans are magic! How fun is that?”
“WHAT?” Ada shrieks. “Absolutely not! There is no such thing as magic beans!”
Crumbs.
She shakes her head. “There are lots of scammers at the market these days. You know what, Jack, you stay home and play with your new friends. I’ll take the cow to the market myself. No one will try to rip me off.” She shakes her head with a grim laugh.
Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh no.
“Sounds good, Mum,” Jack says, digging into his food.
And there we have it. The trickiness in action. We’ve been here for ten minutes, and we’ve already messed up the story.
I shoot a look at Jonah.
“Beans,” he says.
* * *
The pottage turns out to be a vegetable stew. The portions are small because there’s so little of it to go around. How nice is Jack’s family that they’re sharing their food with us when they have so little? That makes me feel even worse about messing up their story.
Jonah makes sad faces at me while we eat, so I whisper, “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
After we’re done eating, we help Ada clear the table. Then Jonah, Prince, Jack, and I head into the tiny living room. I glance at Jack. He doesn’t look upset about not being able to get gold coins. He probably doesn’t realize that it was true. I watch as he does some pretty fancy footwork with his soccer ball.
“Jack’s so good at footie I don’t even mind him playing in the house,” Ada says, smiling at him as she heads to the kitchen.
Jonah is mesmerized by the shabby, scuffed ball at Jack’s feet. “How’d you get so good at soccer — I mean, football?” Jonah asks Jack.
“My dad taught me when I was small,” Jack responds. “We played all the time. But then he died.”
“Sorry,” Jonah and I say at the same time.
“I get sad if I talk about my father too much,” Jack adds. “So I try not to.”
Poor Jack. That horrible giant killed his dad and stole his money, leaving Jack and his mother with nothing. And now we’ve made it worse for them.
Prince barks, trying to chase the ball that’s under Jack’s feet. Jack laughs, crouching down to pet him. “You have the cutest dog,” Jack says.
Woof! Prince agrees. He rolls over on his back and Jack gives him a tummy rub.
Awww. Could Jack BE any sweeter?
And did I mention how cute he is?
“I wish we could have a dog, but we can barely feed ourselves,” Jack says. He pets Prince’s floppy ears.
Poor Jack. I glance at Jonah. He looks as miserable as I feel. We have to fix this somehow.
“Jack, honey, come help me put the heavy pot in the sink,” Ada calls from the kitchen.
Jack gives the ball a gentle kick over to Jonah and goes into the kitchen.
As soon as Jack is gone, Jonah turns to me, his eyes troubled.
“Told you I mess everything up!” Jonah cries. “I wish we’d never gone into this story. I ruined everything for Jack!”
“Shhh,” I say. “Listen …” I trail off.
But what is there to say? Jonah kind of did mess up by, yes, spilling the beans. About the beans.
“Now Jack won’t get the magic beans,” Jonah adds, his voice rising. “And that means no beanstalk, no giant, no gold coins, no goose that lays golden eggs, and no magic harp. They’ll be poor forever.”
He’s right. But I can’t tell him that since he feels bad enough.
And I kind of feel like the giant OWES Jack.
“We’ll come up with a solution,” I tell my brother.
We HAVE to.
I stare out the window at the drizzle, thinking. If only there was a way to get the beans ourselves. That would solve everything, right? We’d get the beans, give them to Jack, and —
Ahhh!
Ding, ding, ding! I got it!
I figured it out,” I say.
Jonah’s eyes widen. “How?”
“Well, we know there’s someone out there trading magic beans,” I say. “We just have to find the trader ourselves and trade him something for the beans! Then we’ll have the beans. Get it?”
“Got it!” Jonah cries. “And then we’ll give the beans to Jack!”
I nod. If we get those beans, Jack will get his gold coins. And his mom can buy another cow. And sturdy chairs. And new sneakers for Jack. YAY!
Ada and Jack come out of the kitchen, and Ada glances out the window. “Good. The rain stopped. I need to get Princess Milka to the market to sell her.”
“We don’t mind taking her,” I say quickly.
“No, I’ve got it,” she insists. “I want to make sure it’s done properly. No silly magic beans. It’s the only way we’ll survive. See you later, Jack,” she says, kissing his cheek.
“Bye, Mum,” he says with a smile. He tosses his mop of brown bangs out of his eyes.
Ada waves to us and leaves. I look out the window and see her walking down the path, holding on to Princess Milka’s rope. The cow gives a moo as she walks slowly beside Ada.
As soon as they’re out of sight, I turn to Jack and Jonah.
“So here’s what we have to do,” I say. “We have to find the man who has the magic beans and trade him something else for them.”
Jack frowns. “What do you mean? You were serious about those beans?”
“Very serious,” I say with a nod. “Trust us.”
“You have to get those beans,” Jonah tells Jack. “Your whole life will change!”
“Really?” Jack asks. “How?”
“You’ll get gold coins and a goose that lays golden eggs, plus a magic harp,” Jonah says. “You’ll be rich!”
Jack smiles. “Rich? I’ll settle for not starving.” He rubs his stomach. “I could have eaten another helping of pottage. Sure would be nice to have some extra potatoes every week.”
I realize he’s not exaggerating when he says he’s starving. He really is.
We’re getting those beans for Jack. We ARE!
“What can we trade?” Jonah asks, looking around.
“Mum took the cow,” Jack says. “All I have is the clothes on my back, and nobody wants those. They’re too shabby.”
“Our clothes are in good shape!” Jonah says. He points to his pajamas. “Right, Abby?” He nods at my jeans.
“Um, we need to keep our clothes,” I tell my brother.
“Even our hoodies?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. The last thing I need is Jonah catching a cold in a fairy tale.
“But then we don’t have anything to trade!” Jonah cries.
True. Very unfortunately true.
Oh, wait.
We DO have something to trade.
I look down at my watch.
If we want to save the story, I have to sell it.
“What?” Jonah asks.
I lift up my wrist and point to my watch.
“No! How will we know what time it is back home?” Jonah asks.
I look at my watch. It’s twelve thirty at home now. Then I check the clock in Jack’s living room. It’s three thirty here. So … that means every half hour at home is about three and half hours here. So every hour at home is about seven hours here. I do the calculations.
“So seven A.M. at home is one P.M. here the day after tomorrow. We’ll want to leave here by noon. Latest,” I tell Jonah. “And I got the watch in a goody bag from a party. It’s a cheap one. I can get another one in Smithville.” It wouldn’t b
e the first watch I’ve lost in a fairy tale.
“Are you sure, Abby?” Jack asks me, looking at the watch. “It has sparkles on it! I’ve never seen a watch with sparkles on it! It’s beautiful.”
I blush. Then I remind myself that Jack said the watch was beautiful. Not me!
Oh, no. I teased Jonah for having a crush on Little Red Riding Hood. Do I maybe … have a crush on Jack?
But there’s no time to wonder about that. We have to find the trader, and fast.
“I’m sure,” I say. “Let’s head for the market. We should see the trader on the way there.”
Jonah, Jack, and I hurry out the door, with Prince following behind.
* * *
Jack leads us down a gravel road toward the market. The sky is still overcast and there’s that mist in the air, but at least it’s not raining. Soon, we reach a small village. The stone buildings are small and very close together and almost look like mini castles. There are curving cobblestone streets and alleyways and lots of shops. And a few blocks farther up is the market. There are open-air stalls and people milling around, buying and selling stuff. And is that fish and chips I smell? YUM. My stomach grumbles. Maybe I should trade my watch for something to eat instead. Kidding. Kind of.
“I see my mum!” Jack says, peering ahead. “She’s standing right outside the market talking to a man!”
Hmmm. Could the man she’s talking to be the trader?
We sneak behind a tree and watch. Yep, there’s Ada, still holding on to Princess Milka. A tall, thin man with curly hair is showing Ada something he has in the palm of his hand.
The beans! He must be showing her the beans! And telling her they’re magic!
I see Ada shake her head with a laugh and wag her finger at the trader. She walks on with the cow into the market, and then I lose sight of her.
“That has to be the trader,” I say, watching the curly-haired man.
“Let’s go talk to him!” Jonah says, darting forward.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing hold of him.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asks me.
“I think we should let the trader approach US,” I say. “Like in the story.”
“What story?” Jack asks, looking from me to Jonah and back to me.
Oops. Think fast, Abby. “Oh, um, I just mean we heard that he’ll trade the beans for something he sees that he wants.”
“Ah,” Jack says. “I have an idea! As we walk near him, hold out your wrist so he can see the watch, Abby.”
“Brilliant!” Jonah says. “You are SO smart, Jack.”
“Thanks,” Jack says with a smile.
I frown. Jack is smart. But I’m the one who came up with this whole plan in the first place.
“Are you sure you don’t mind giving up your watch, Abby?” Jack asks me. “I feel bad about it.”
“It’s okay,” I say.
“You’ll get another watch, right?” Jack asks me. “You can wish on the magic beans and ask for whatever you want, right? Isn’t that how the magic beans work?”
Jonah and I exchange a glance. “Not exactly,” Jonah says. “The beans will help you find the gold coins and then you can buy stuff.”
Jack tilts his head. “But where will we find the gold coins?”
“One step at a time,” I say, and take a deep breath.
We walk toward the trader. All around us are horse-drawn carriages and wagons and people wearing cloaks — some fancy and some tattered. There are definitely some rich people in Tradetown and some very poor people.
As we near the trader, I hold my watch up toward my face.
“Oh, my,” I say loudly. “According to my watch, it’s almost time to head home.”
Yeah, I sound totally natural. NOT.
“Good thing you have your super-awesome watch!” Jonah shouts. “Your super-duper awesome watch!” he adds at the top of his lungs.
Not the most subtle.
But it’s working! The trader is coming over to us!
“Hello,” he says to me with a friendly smile. He has warm brown eyes, olive skin, and lots of curly brown hair. He looks like he’s my dad’s age. “My name is Devin. I’m a trader here at the market.”
I offer a polite smile. “I’m Abby, and this is my brother, Jonah, and our friend Jack. And that’s our dog, Prince.”
“Hello,” Devin says, smiling at the boys and Prince. He kneels down and gives Prince a pat on the head, then stands back up. Now his eyes are on my wrist. “That’s a nice watch. It sparkles.”
Yes! Our plan worked! “Thanks,” I say. “I’d love to trade my watch for something special. But we don’t see anything all that interesting around here. Just the usual stuff.” La, la la.
Devin glances around, then turns his attention back to me. “I DO happen to have something very interesting to trade.”
“What?” Jonah asks with complete curiosity. Either he’s a brilliant actor or he actually has forgotten.
“Magic beans,” Devin whispers. He has them in his palm and holds out his hand so we can see. They look like ordinary greenish-brown beans. There are four of them. He tosses one up in the air and catches it.
“What’s so magical about them?” Jack asks.
“Where they are planted, a beanstalk will grow, straight up into the sky past the clouds,” Devin says. “Climb the beanstalk and riches await you.”
I wouldn’t believe him if I didn’t know it was true. I stare at my watch. Good-bye, watch. Thanks for all the time-telling on my adventures!
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll trade you my watch for the beans.” I unstrap the watch and hold it out to Devin.
He shakes his head. “So sorry, but I am not interested in your watch.”
“What?” I exclaim. “What do you mean you don’t want the watch?”
Devin holds up his wrist. “I have my own.”
Oh.
Crumbs.
Now what?
Jonah’s face crumples. He seriously looks like he might cry. He shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets.
“Hey, what’s this?” Jonah says, trying to pull something out.
“Huh?” I ask. “What’s what?”
Ugh. Jonah probably has melty, half-crushed M&M’s in his pocket from weeks ago. But who knows? Maybe Devin likes chocolate.
“I didn’t know I had this!” Jonah exclaims, and pulls out his e-reader.
Crazy! “You had an e-reader in your hoodie pocket and didn’t know it?” I ask.
Jonah shrugs. “I love my e-reader so much I always have it in my pocket.”
Devin’s eyes light up. “Let me see that, young man.” He holds out his hand.
Jonah’s mouth drops open, and he takes a step back. “This? No. Not this!”
“Seriously, Jonah?” I say.
“I can’t trade my e-reader!” he yelps. “What would I tell Mom and Dad?”
“Wow,” Jack says, staring at the e-reader in wonder. “I’ve never seen that before. How cool. What does it do?”
“You read on it,” Jonah tells him.
“They definitely don’t sell those around here. You’re so lucky you have one. You definitely can’t sell that,” Jack says.
Jonah hesitates. He hands the e-reader to the trader. “No. Take it. I can … I’ll tell Mom and Dad I lost it. I’m sure they’ll get me another one … when I turn thirty, maybe.” He mumbles the last part. “Mr. Trader, I will trade you. My e-reader for those magic beans.”
Aw, I’m so proud of my little brother. GO, JONAH!
“Oh, I don’t want that,” Devin says. He shakes his head and turns away.
“WHAT?” I shriek.
Devin turns back around. “I’m not much of a reader,” he says. “I prefer to spend my spare time playing Scrabble or chess.”
And making trading really difficult.
“Wait,” I say in desperation. “How about our hoodies?” I gesture at my red one and Jonah’s orange one. “They’re super soft.” And all we have left.
Devin shakes his head. “I have a closetful.”
Jonah’s shoulders slump again.
“Well, that’s it,” I say, throwing up my hands. “We’re out of stuff to sell. We have nothing else to trade.”
“What a cute dog,” the trader says. “Look at those floppy ears.”
We all look. Prince’s ears are especially cute.
Devin kneels down in front of our dog. “Come here, boy,” he says to Prince.
Prince pads over and sits. He gives the trader’s hand a lick.
Devin laughs. “What a good dog,” he says, and pats Prince on the head.
Then the trader stands up. “You’ve got your trade. The magic beans for your dog.”
Wait, what?
He didn’t just … ?
No way.
I walk in front of Prince and make sure he’s behind my legs. “Prince is NOT for sale,” I say sternly.
“Oh,” Devin says. “I thought you wanted the beans.”
“Prince is our dog,” I say. “He’s part of our family.”
Jonah nods. “It’s SO true. He’s like the little brother I don’t have.”
I glance at Jonah. “Why do you keep wishing for brothers?”
“How about this,” Devin says. “I’ll let you buy him back for only ten gold coins whenever you want.”
I hesitate. No. No way.
“It’s your only chance to get these beans,” Devin adds.
If we plant the beans and grow the beanstalk, we can get those gold coins and get Prince back.
I look at Jonah. He looks at Prince. Prince’s tail wags as he looks up at Devin. He seems to like him. But my heart breaks at the thought of anything happening to Prince. I can’t leave him! What if something goes wrong?
Talk about a tough choice. A total dilemma. I think back to how stressed I was about choosing between Frankie and Robin. This is even tougher! Much tougher.
“Guys, you’re not trading Prince for some plain old beans,” Jack says, stepping forward. “My mum was right. We’re being ridiculous. There’s no such thing as magic beans. And super-poor families like me and my mum don’t get rich overnight. Trust me, I wish we could, but it doesn’t happen.”
Sigh. Why does Jack have to be so nice? If only he were a jerk, I could grab Jonah and Prince and make a run for it. I’d find the portal back home and leave this fairy tale behind. But no. When we’re in fairy tales, we have to help, no matter what. That’s why Maryrose sends us into the stories in the first place. To help. I think, anyway. Or it might just be to train us for a mission. We’re not exactly sure.
Spill the Beans Page 3
