Spill the Beans

by Sarah Mlynowski

  Jonah’s lip quivers. I know he doesn’t want to let Jack down.

  Jack puts his arm around Jonah’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Jonah. Me and my mum will get by. I’ll drop out of school and try to find work here in town. I’m too young for a proper job, but someone might pay me a bit to run errands or something.”

  No. He can’t drop out of school. He just can’t.

  Jonah looks miserable.

  “Children,” the trader says with a smile. “I’ll make you a special deal.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What kind of deal?” I ask.

  “I will give you the magic beans,” Devin begins. “You give me your dog. If you return with five gold coins, not ten, you can trade in your dog. No problem.”

  Five coins to get Prince back. Jack won’t have to drop out of school. Jonah won’t be miserable forever. And Ada can buy a thousand cows with the riches those beans will provide.

  I stare at Devin. “Five gold coins? And you’ll give Prince back to us?”

  “Swearsies. You two heard the deal,” Devin says to Jack and Jonah.

  I can’t believe I’m even considering this, but …

  “Uh, give us a minute, will you?” I say to Jack and the trader. I pull Jonah aside.

  “Jonah, we know that the trader is at least being honest about the beans,” I start. “The beans will grow into a giant beanstalk high in the sky. Riches are waiting for us up there. Once we get the money, we can buy Prince back. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

  Am I actually saying this? I am.

  “Trade Prince?” Jonah says, scrunching up his face.

  “I know,” I say. “Even for a few hours — I hate the idea.”

  Jonah bites his lip. “But we have to, right?”

  “I think we do,” I say.

  Jonah looks like he might cry. “This is all my fault, Abby. If I didn’t say anything about the beans to begin with, we wouldn’t even be thinking about trading Prince. But if we don’t trade him, Jack will always be hungry.” His eyes get all misty.

  Crumbs, crumbs, and more crumbs.

  I bite my lip and think this over. We know there are bags and bags of gold coins in the giant’s castle.

  All we have to do is:

  1) Plant the magic beans.

  2) Wait till the beanstalk grows.

  3) Climb up.

  4) Sneak into the giant’s castle.

  5) Take a bag of gold coins without getting eaten by the giant.

  6) Climb back down.

  7) Chop down the beanstalk so the giant can’t follow us.

  8) Return to the trader with five gold coins for Prince.

  And then everyone’s happy. Jack will save his family. We’ll save Prince. The end.

  “Jack?” I call. “Can you come here, please?”

  Jack comes over. Jonah, Jack, and I huddle together, and I explain the plan. Well, I leave out the part about the castle and the giant. Jonah already knows about that. And Jack — well, I’m not sure I should tell him any of the story in advance.

  “So we climb a beanstalk and get rich?” Jack says. “Easy peasy! I’m so in!”

  I feel a little bad about withholding major info, but there are kind of unwritten rules in fairy tale world.

  Anyway, my plan sounds perfectly reasonable. Number five (take the coins without getting eaten by the giant) is a doozy, though. We’ll have to be quick.

  I turn to Jonah. “So we’re doing this? We’re trading Prince for a little while?”

  Jonah nods. “We don’t have a choice! And besides, Devin is being really nice to Prince. Look,” he adds, pointing.

  I turn around. Devin is sitting on the ground and petting Prince, who’s licking his cheek. The trader is laughing. “You’re the cutest!” he says to Prince. He throws a stick off to the side where there’s a grassy area. Prince runs after the stick and brings it back, dropping it at Devin’s feet. “Good Prince!” Devin says, giving him another pat. “Who’s a good doggie-woggie? You are, that’s who!” Prince licks his cheek again.

  And we know he’s not lying about the magic beans. So he’s somewhat trustworthy.

  I let out a sigh. I feel very queasy about this. “Prince does seem to like Devin. Okay, fine. But the minute we get those five coins, we’re getting Prince back.”

  “Definitely,” Jonah says.

  I walk over to the trader. “We have a d-”

  I’m about to say the word deal when I remember something. Would my parents, who are LAWYERS, make a deal without having it written and signed? Of course they wouldn’t! You need a contract. A contract puts all the terms of a deal in writing. That way, no one can change their mind and say they didn’t agree to this or that. Because it’s right there on paper.

  I clear my throat. “We have a deal IF we write out a contract and both sign it,” I tell Devin.

  Devin rolls his eyes. “Well, I don’t have any paper on me, do you, little girl?” he asks.

  I frown. “First of all, I’m ten, not a little girl. And second, no, I don’t.” Note to self: Start carrying a small notebook.

  “And what about a pen?” Devin feels his pockets. “Nope, no pen.”

  Crumbs. Me neither.

  “You have ONE second to decide if you want to make this trade,” Devin says. “I’m sure another kid would want these MAGIC beans.”

  “Fine!” I snap. “No contract.” Crumbs. “But before I hand Prince over, tell me EXACTLY where we get him back.”

  “Certainly,” Devin says. “You can fetch him from my house. One alley on the left past the biscuit stall, house number nineteen — two twists and three turns from the road. Can’t miss it.”

  I nod. Biscuit stall. One alley on the left. House 19. Two twists, three turns. Got it. I have a pretty good memory.

  “I know where that is, Abby,” Jack says. “I can help you find it.”

  Whew.

  “So do we have a deal?” Devin asks. “Are we making this trade? Four magic beans for your dog?”

  “Yes,” I say, still feeling uncertain. “Until we meet you back at your house with five gold coins,” I add. “Right?”

  “Right,” Devin says. He smiles and hands me the beans. “Excellent. Here they are.”

  I look at the four greenish-brown beans in my palm.

  “Come, Prince,” Devin says. “I’ll show you to your memory-foam dog couch in my living room. I’ll even buy you a liver biscuit on the way. You will live up to your name in my company.”

  Prince does love liver dog biscuits. And soft beds. At least he’ll be getting the royal treatment during his stay in Tradetown.

  Ruff! Prince says, happily following Devin.

  I swallow. I can’t watch Prince walk away. I can’t!

  I look at the beans again. “These had better really be magic,” I say.

  Or we’ll never see Prince again.

  * * *

  We run all the way back to Jack’s house, the three of us out of breath. That is how excited — and anxious — we are about getting the beans planted.

  We go into Jack’s yard and peer through the window into his house. I can see Ada in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. There’s a small pile of fruits and vegetables on the counter. I also see a pair of scuffed but decent blue sneakers on a chair. Ada must have sold Princess Milka!

  I bet she didn’t get much money for the cow, though.

  “So,” I whisper to Jonah, “Jack’s mom threw the beans out the window in the original story. We should plant them right here.”

  “Should we just throw them on the ground?” Jonah whispers back. “That’s what his mom does. She didn’t plant them.”

  I think about that. “I don’t know. I guess we could. They are magic, after all.”

  I toss the beans on the ground. They just sit there. Nothing magic happens.

  Jack comes over and stares at the beans, then at me. “Uh, no offense, Abby, but you have to plant beans if you want them to take root and grow.”

  Can’t
hurt, right?

  “Okay,” I say, picking up the beans. “We’ll all plant them.” I give one to Jack, one to Jonah, and I have two left in my hand.

  “Um, Abby?” Jonah says sheepishly.

  “Yes?”

  “I think Jack should have the extra bean,” Jonah says. “He’d have ALL the beans if we weren’t here.”

  Jeez. I suppose.

  “Fine,” I mutter. I drop the second bean in Jack’s palm.

  We each plant our beans. Then we get up and stare at the ground.

  Still nothing happening.

  “So where’s the sky-high beanstalk?” Jack asks. “I hope Devin wasn’t lying to us.”

  I look up at the sky. It’s not very sunny. But it’s not raining, either. Don’t plants need sun and water to grow? The trader didn’t say anything about that.

  At least it’s kind of misty again. Maybe that will help water the beans.

  “I think we have to wait for it to grow overnight,” I say. “That’s how it happens in the story.” But that does mean we’re leaving Prince on his own for the whole night!

  Eep. Poor Prince. I miss him.

  “WHAT story?” Jack asks me.

  Oops. “Oh, just some story I read about how beanstalks grow,” I say quickly.

  Jonah nods. “Yeah, we just have to go to sleep, and when we wake up … beanstalk city.” He leans his head back, staring straight up at the sky.

  Here’s hoping.

  * * *

  Before dinner, Jack and Jonah play soccer, aka “football,” in the yard. Jack’s wearing his new used sneakers that Ada bought him.

  “Wow, I can play even better now that my sneakers don’t fall apart mid-kick,” Jack says, sending the ball toward Jonah with the side of his foot. “And the tape I had to use to hold my left sneaker together always got stuck to the ball. I hated when that happened. My mum is the best for buying me these.”

  “You’re so good at soccer you could probably play barefoot and win!” Jonah exclaims.

  I roll my eyes. He’s not that good.

  But Jonah learns a ton. Jack teaches him how to use the side of the foot to kick the ball and when to use his head.

  Jack even lets Jonah get two balls past him into the goal. He’s so nice. And thoughtful.

  And cute.

  I wonder if he has a girlfriend?

  Not that I care. I don’t.

  “Abby, come play with us!” Jack says.

  “Abby doesn’t like soccer!” Jonah says.

  “I do, too,” I say. I walk over to join them. I don’t dislike soccer. And I’m pretty good at being a goalie, too. I stop a few balls from going into the barn by catching them.

  “Not bad,” Jack says to me, and I feel myself flush.

  “Dinner!” Ada calls from the window. “And wash your hands!” She pokes her head out. “Oh, dear, it’s starting to rain. Abby and Jonah, do you live very far? Would you two like to stay over tonight? The couch pulls out into a bed.”

  Yes! Perfect! Raining AND an invitation to stay over. The rain will help the beanstalk grow and when we wake up, all we have to do is go outside to climb it.

  “Thanks!” I say to Ada, and head inside. “We would like to stay over. We do live very far away. Very, very far.”

  “Yay! I’m having a sleepover at Jack’s!” Jonah whispers to me as we wash our hands. “He’s so awesome.” He dries his hands on a scratchy towel. “I hope I can get really great at soccer just like him.” He races out of the tiny bathroom to find Jack.

  Okay, Jack is pretty great. But does Jonah have to follow him around the house like a puppy?

  Ohhhhh puppy. I cringe. Poor Prince. I hope he’s okay.

  We sit down at the table. Ada has made pottage again, but this time there are hunks of potatoes and other veggies. Plus, she made fresh-squeezed lemonade. Yum.

  But I can’t stop thinking about Prince. I’m sure he’s fine. Gobbling up his liver doggie biscuits and sleeping on his memory-foam mattress. But still.

  “Where’s your sweet dog?” Ada asks, as if reading my mind.

  “Oh, um, he’s just hiding,” I say. “He doesn’t like the rain.”

  Sigh.

  Finally, it’s time for bed. It’s been a LONG day. And Jonah, Jack, and I want to get to sleep as soon as possible so we can see if the beanstalk is there in the morning.

  Ada reaches into a small closet and pulls out a thin blue blanket and two pillows. “The sofa bed isn’t all that comfortable, but it’ll do for a night.”

  “Thanks, Ada,” I say. “We really appreciate it.”

  Jack removes the couch cushions and pulls out the bed, then sets up the blanket and pillows. “There you go.”

  Jonah lets out a huge yawn.

  “Night, everyone,” Jack says, then climbs a peeling white ladder to a small loft area. I see a thin mattress and a thin blanket and a thin pillow.

  “Night, Jack,” Jonah and I say at the same time.

  “Good night, kids,” Ada says, going into her room.

  “I’m sooo sleepy,” Jonah says, his eyes drifting closed.

  I’m sleepy, too. I can feel my eyes getting heavier and heavier.

  PLEASE let there be a beanstalk out there in the morning. Pleeease!

  * * *

  The next thing I know, the sun is coming through the windows. The sky is blue.

  I pop out of bed. Jack comes rushing down the loft ladder. Jonah runs to the window.

  “BEANSTALK!” Jonah shouts. He zips around in a circle, pumping his fists. Jack gives him two high fives. Both of them are dancing around the living room, chanting, “Beanstalk. Beanstalk. Beanstalk!”

  I stare out the window in shock. It’s really there!

  The beanstalk is huge. It’s about three feet wide and bright green with tons of thick sprouts and stems coming out the sides. It’s so tall that I can’t even see the top. It shoots straight up through the clouds.

  “It really worked!” I exclaim. “The magic beans grew into a giant beanstalk!”

  “You know what that means,” Jonah says. “Let’s do some climbing!”

  I wonder what riches are waiting for us up there,” Jack says once we’re outside. He shields his eyes from the sun as he tilts his head back.

  “There are bags of gold coins, a goose that lays golden eggs, and a magical harp that plays the most beautiful music all by itself,” I say.

  “Really?” Jack asks excitedly. “Oh, wow. My mum and I could buy so much with all that gold. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to go to bed without my stomach growling. I’m always hungry.”

  I feel so bad for Jack and his nice mum! Hungry, tattered clothes, falling-apart chairs. The more I think about what it would be like to go to bed hungry, the more I know I did the right thing by trading Prince. For a night, anyway.

  “What’s the first thing you’ll eat with your riches?” Jonah asks Jack.

  “Definitely the fish and chips from the market. Smells so good!” Jack answers. “With extra vinegar. And for dinner, bangers and mash from The White Duck and the Black Horse. I’ve never eaten in a restaurant before. Well, not since my dad died when I was little.”

  Aww, poor Jack.

  “What are bangers?” Jonah asks. “Would I like them? And what’s mash?”

  “If you like sausage,” Jack explains, “you’ll like bangers — that’s what they are! And mash is just our shortened way of saying mashed potatoes.”

  Jonah grins. “I LOVE mashed potatoes!”

  Jack high-fives Jonah. “Well, the two of us will have a proper sit-down meal once we have our gold coins.”

  Uh, what about me? Feeling a little left out here!

  “And you too, of course, Abby,” Jack says sheepishly, reading my mind.

  “Yeah, Abby, you can come, too,” Jonah says, beaming at Jack.

  Gee, thanks, Jonah.

  “So let’s go get your riches!” Jonah says, leaping onto the beanstalk. He grabs ahold of a side sprout and propels himsel
f up. “I’m a really good climber,” he adds, glancing back at us.

  “The higher the funner!” Jack says with a grin. “‘Funner’ might not be a word, but it should be!”

  Jonah cracks up laughing. “You’re so funny, Jack! Isn’t he so funny, Abby?” Jonah calls down. He puts one hand on his belly and guffaws.

  Jonah used to think I was funny. And I am funny! I try to think of a good joke about beanstalks or climbing, but I can’t think of anything. It’s hard to be funny on command.

  “Jonah, two hands on the side stalks, please!” Jack calls up. “For safety!”

  I frown. That’s MY line. I’m the one who watches out for Jonah.

  “’Kay!” Jonah calls back, carefully putting both hands on the side stalks.

  “Ready, Abby?” Jack asks me. “Just put your foot on that bottom sprout and —”

  “I’ve got this,” I say quickly.

  “I’m sure you do,” he says. He gives me a supportive smile and a wink.

  Ugh. Can’t I just be annoyed at Jack in peace without him doing something cute?

  I walk over to the stalk and gingerly put one foot on the bottom sprout. Do I really have to climb up ahead of Jack? First of all, I hate climbing. Second of all, I’ll probably make weird huffing noises like I do in gym. Third of all —

  I’m kind of scared!

  But there’s no way I want Jack to know that.

  “Abby’s a little scared of heights!” Jonah calls down. “Good thing you’re here in case she falls!”

  Oh, thanks again, Jonah!

  “I won’t let you fall, Abby,” Jack says kindly.

  “I am not going to fall,” I say, my voice firm.

  I adjust my foot on a bottom sprout, then grab a top sprout and press down with my foot. Seems pretty sturdy. Well, here goes. I start climbing.

  Huh. It’s really not that hard since there are so many places to grab on to and for my feet to go. It’s actually almost fun.

  If you don’t look down.

  Do not look down. Do. Not. Look. Down.

  Even if cute Jack is below me.

  Especially because cute Jack is right below me, climbing up effortlessly. The last thing I want to do is get distracted by him and SLIP RIGHT OFF THE BEANSTALK!