Biz Whiz #1
Page 2
“I call it practice,” I said.
“Practice for what?” Dad asked.
“Never mind,” I said.
Mom put down her fork. “Let me remind you. You’re too young to use the stove.”
“But I’m not,” Simon piped up. “Cooking is fun.”
“Healthy, too,” I added. “This sauce has no high-fructose corn syrup that research says makes lab rats blow up to twice the size of ones eating regular sugar.”
This time Simon put down his fork.
“That’s a great idea for a research paper for the science expo.”
We all stared at him.
“Well, I’m not going to actually feed sugar and high-fructose corn syrup to my rats. They’re my pets!” Simon said. “But I’m sure there is other research I can gather.”
We all agreed, and Simon took a second helping of pasta. “Awesome!” he said.
Awesome was right.
With Simon to cook and Billy to supply veggies and recipes, I’d show him our Street Fair Fundraiser team would be the best.
7
AWESOME
The next morning, everyone was talking about our garden.
“On a scale of one to ten, this schoolyard garden is going to be a ten!” Gloria exclaimed.
“Growing food to eat is like a miracle,” Daisy Wilcox agreed. “I can hardly wait.”
“Who cares about vegetables? I can hardly wait till Saturday for the best buttercream cake in the world at your birthday,” Billy said.
Daisy shook her head sadly. “Last night my dad told me he can’t afford the top party package from Perfect Parties. So that means no magician and, even worse, no world’s best buttercream cake.”
I began to tingle and glow from head to toe.
“We can’t promise the world’s best buttercream cake,” I began in a rush. “But Billy and Flossie’s Ready-to-Eat could cater your party for free.”
“We could W-WHAT?” Billy sputtered.
“Why would you cater a party for free?” Gloria asked.
“It’s called promotion,” I explained. “A good way to show off our menu before the Street Fair Fundraiser.”
“Also a good way to get invited to Daisy’s birthday,” Imogene mumbled.
“If Dad saves enough on a cake and food, maybe he’d spring for a magician or even a clown,” Daisy said. “I’d love a live show.”
“We’ll do a live show, too,” I offered.
“We’ll do w-what?” Billy sputtered again. His sputtering turned into a coughing fit.
“Food and a live show?” Daisy’s face lit up. “I’ll let you know.”
Later, on the way home from school, Billy was angry.
“I’m your partner,” he told me. “You should have asked me before you took on a job.”
“I thought you would be happy,” I explained. “It’s an opportunity to show off your great bean dip before the Street Fair Fundraiser.”
“My mom says it’s a great bean dip. It could be awful.”
“I’ve got a can of beans on the shelf in our kitchen,” I remembered. “Come make some, and we’ll know for sure.”
“I bet it’s awful,” Billy warned as I pulled him off the elevator at my floor.
“Great-Grandpa Morris said, ‘Believe in your product and believe in yourself,’” I lectured.
In the kitchen we found the can of beans and my brother, Simon. He was lining two cages with shredded paper.
“Pet rats!” Billy cried in delight when he saw them.
He was so excited about Simon’s rats, I had to remind him to show me how to make bean dip.
“It’s just three easy steps,” Billy instructed us. “Watch!”
“Step one: Place beans in blender.
“Step two: Add salt, pepper, and fresh or dried basil.
“Step three: Add oil.”
“So far, so good!” I exclaimed.
Billy smiled. “Step four,” he said with pride and switched on the blender.
“That’s step five,” I corrected him. “Step four is put a lid on top.”
“This dip is delicious,” Simon approved, taking a taste off his nose.
“Super delicious,” I agreed, scooping some off the sink. “On Gloria’s scale, it’s a ten.”
Billy blushed and beamed. I had a feeling he was tingling and glowing from head to toe.
“With the flick of a switch, you created something fantastic,” Simon complimented him. “You’re a magician with food.”
“When people sample this, our phone will ring with orders,” I assured Billy.
Just then, the phone actually rang. It was Daisy.
“Mom says no way can you cater my party,” she said.
Billy sighed with relief when he heard the news.
But I began to tingle and glow from head to toe . . .
“Food wasn’t the only thing we offered Daisy for her party,” I reminded Billy. “We offered entertainment. I say we have a magic show to put on!”
8
SHOW BIZ
When we met in the lobby of our building the next morning to exchange lunches, Billy informed me that we did not have a show to put on.
“I have no magic act,” Billy said.
“You have no confidence,” I told him. “I helped you make friends at school. Now I’ll help you believe in yourself.”
“I believe I’m not a magician.”
“Simon called you a magician with food,” I reminded him.
“Do I look like a magician?”
“You will when you put on my magician costume from last Halloween.”
“Last Halloween’s costume will be too small,” Billy said.
“Simon’s costume won’t be,” I said. “It includes a mustache, a wand, and a trick hat with a secret compartment.”
“A mustache, a trick hat, and a wand?” Billy nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll try it on.”
At school, I let Daisy know we had a magic act.
“Even though you don’t want our food, I haven’t forgotten the live show I promised. We’ve got one you will never forget.”
“Like my haircut?” Imogene called out, pulling on the frizz that was growing in over her ears.
“It’s hard to make curly hair the same on both sides,” I admitted. “Magic is easier. This time there won’t be any mistakes.”
At lunchtime everyone wanted to know what our show would be.
“Can Billy pull a rabbit out of a hat?” Charlie teased.
“Better than that,” I said.
As we walked home, Billy wanted to know what would go in the magic hat.
“Funny Bunny,” I said.
“Funny Bunny is stuffed,” Billy replied.
“Great-Grandpa said . . .”
“I know what he said,” Billy interrupted. “He said believe in your product. He said it’s all about presentation, but what did he say about flops?”
“He said flops are how you learn to succeed.”
“What did you learn from Ready- to-Eat and the farm stand?”
“I learned we should have been better prepared. We should have had a menu and good signs. We weren’t ready. This time I made a list.”
Posters! Costumes! Rehearsals!
As soon as we got home, we went to work.
“Maybe I believe in magic,” Billy said.
By late afternoon on Friday, we were ready for a dress rehearsal.
Mom and Dad and Simon shouted, “Bravo!” Mrs. Lark said she would cut veggie sticks to scoop up dip from the magic blender act. Mr. Lark thought we should be on TV.
When Billy pulled Funny Bunny out of his hat, everyone laughed.
“Funnier than a real rabbit,” Mom cried. “Your show has everything.”
But just before
he went home, Billy told me, “Our show doesn’t have everything. Funny Bunny made everyone laugh with surprise. Magic should make them gasp in amazement.”
After Billy left, I thought about what he had said.
I needed to come up with something that would make people gasp in amazement.
I tried and I tried.
Some ideas were amazing, but they wouldn’t cause a gasp.
Some ideas would cause a gasp, but they weren’t amazing.
I got so tired thinking up ideas, I fell asleep . . . and dreamed.
When I woke up, I knew exactly how to make everyone gasp in amazement—even Billy.
Saturday morning, Simon waited while we put on our costumes and loaded the shopping cart with a blender and food for our act.
“Why are you taking your magician hat?” Billy asked.
“For good luck,” I lied, tucking it carefully into its box.
Before Mom and Dad left for work, Dad took photos of us.
“Now our show really has everything,” I told Billy. “It’s time to take it on the road.”
9
ON THE ROAD
At Daisy’s, a long table was set with paper plates and party poppers and goody bags. There was a layer cake I’d seen on a turntable in the window at the corner deli. It was covered with sugar roses. There were cups of soda and cider and glasses of milk. There were balloons and streamers.
After we ate cake and ice cream, the table was cleared for our show.
I plugged in the blender and set out containers of beans, herbs, oil, and spices. Then I passed around Mrs. Lark’s platter of cut-up carrots, sugar snap peas, celery, and lettuce leaves to scoop the dip.
When I was finished, I clapped my hands for attention.
“Billy and his magic blender will turn these simple items into something you will never forget,” I told the audience.
Billy waved his wand while I dumped everything into the blender.
“Abracadabra,” Billy said. I put the lid on top and pressed the switch.
“Abracadabra?” Imogene hooted. “You’re just making stuff with a blender. That’s not magic.”
I spooned the dip into a bowl and passed it around so everyone could scoop with veggie sticks for a taste.
“Yummy,” Mrs. Wilcox approved.
Maybe they didn’t think it was magic, but that didn’t stop everyone from gobbling up the dip.
“Do you have any real tricks?” Daisy called out.
“Yeah, pull a rabbit out of that hat,” Ephraim teased.
“He can’t pull anything out of the hat,” Charlie said.
I clapped again.
Billy bowed and took off his hat.
Everyone grew very quiet when he showed how the inside was empty.
Then he closed his eyes, reached a hand inside the brim, and pulled out Funny Bunny.
“A stuffed rabbit?” Daisy shouted. “That’s not magic.”
“It’s dumber than the dip,” Charlie taunted.
Everyone began to boo.
Billy’s face got so red that he looked as if he was about to melt.
“Oops, wrong hat,” I cried, taking mine from its box and handing it to Billy.
“What’s in this one?” he whispered. “Ducky Doodle?”
I clapped my hands again for attention.
“You are about to see something more amazing than anything you ever saw before,” I announced.
Billy reached inside my hat and held up what he found inside.
EVERYONE GASPED IN AMAZEMENT.
Then Mrs. Wilcox screamed.
Mr. Wilcox said, “What is that?”
And Mrs. Wilcox screamed back, “What do you think it is?”
And Daisy screamed . . .
“A rat!”
“Not just any rat!” I shouted above the screaming. “That’s Mr. Salt.” I wanted to explain more, but Mr. Salt wriggled out of Billy’s hand and scampered on the floor. Everyone began to scream even louder.
Billy put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes.
Some kids climbed up on their chairs. Others fell off their chairs.
Then Mr. Wilcox caught Mr. Salt.
Mrs. Wilcox banged two pots together for attention.
“Take that thing away,” she shouted at me and Billy. “Call someone to come pick you up. Right now!”
10
SORRY
I’m sorry,” I told Billy while we waited for my brother in Daisy’s lobby.
“You’re sorry,” he stormed. “I’m sorry I ever gave you veggies in return for lunch. I’m sorry I ever went along with all your wacky ideas and flops.”
“My Great-Grandpa Morris said flops are the road to success. He said you should shoot for the moon and even if you miss, you could land among the stars. He said success is how high you bounce after you hit bottom.”
“I’m not bouncing,” Billy said.
By the time my brother arrived to pick us up, I wasn’t bouncing anymore, either.
Simon was angry.
“I never gave you permission to take Mr. Salt out of the house,” he scolded.
As soon as I got home, I went to my room and crawled into bed. Before I knew it, my eyes were faucets that only turned off in sleep.
When I woke up, Dad was tapping on my door.
“Mom’s cooked a delicious stew with the vegetables you brought home from your farm stand,” he whispered. “And she baked a pie with the blueberries.”
In the dining room, the table was set. Simon was sitting in one of the chairs. He didn’t look so angry anymore.
“Even if I’m on the late shift, I can prepare dinners and freeze them for the week ahead,” Mom said. “Thanks to you, Flossie, I’ve been inspired to cook again.”
“Thanks to you, Simon was inspired to research HFCS,” Dad said.
Simon smiled a little.
“So maybe your ideas were a success after all,” Mom said.
If they were such a success, how come I didn’t feel like eating?
Instead I called Daisy.
“I’m sorry I ruined your party,” I apologized.
“Me too. The tricks were stupid, and the rat was beyond horrible.”
“Was there anything good about it?” I asked.
“Let me think.” Daisy paused. “My mom loved those veggies.”
Then I scribbled an apology note to Simon.
Finally, I called Billy.
“So do I get to keep the hat and cape and wand and mustache?” he asked.
“What for?”
“You never know.”
“I know my ideas for the Street Fair Fundraiser all flopped,” I said. “I know no one will join my team.”
I began to cry.
“I know I should have told you what was in the hat. I should have listened to you and shared ideas since you’re my partner. I know because of me, we were a total and complete failure.”
“Total and complete?” Billy repeated.
“Except Mrs. Wilcox loved the veggies.”
“Okay.” Billy sounded relieved. “So maybe we’re about to grow.”
“Grow into what?”
“A farm stand where Mrs. Wilcox can find the veggies she loves at the Street Fair Fundraiser.”
“But our farm stand flopped, too.”
“That’s because you wouldn’t listen to me and used your stuffed animals as decorations. This time I’ll make signs telling how our food is organic and hand-picked.”
“You’ll make signs? You said you were sorry you ever partnered with me.”
“I changed my mind. We have a contract,” Billy said.
“Throw it away.”
“It’s not just the contract,” Billy told me. “Charlie and Ephraim thought the rat was awe
some. They want to be on our team.”
“Awesome? Our team?” I stopped crying. “Charlie and Ephraim?”
“Next weekend, we’ll be picking apples and pears up at our farm. Maybe you’d like to come and help out.”
“You’re inviting me?” I couldn’t believe it. “For the weekend?”
“Remember what your great-grandpa said about partners?” Billy asked.
“Never make a friend your partner . . . ,” I started to say.
“Make your partner a friend,” Billy concluded.
All of a sudden I began to tingle and glow from head to toe.
It wasn’t because I had a new idea for the Street Fair Fundraiser. Even if selling apples and pears was a flop, I knew it would still be the best idea I ever dreamed of.
I had a partner who was a friend.
Suddenly I was hungry.
BILLY’S BEANS
(Ask an adult for help with the blender.) Put into the blender:
1 can white beans, drained
1/4 cup olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
1 clove garlic
1/4 cup fresh parsley
Blend till smooth.
Scoop up with carrot or celery sticks.
BILLY’S CHERRY TOMATO SAUCE
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
Salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup or more mozzarella cheese, cubed
1/4 cup fresh parsley or basil, or 1 teaspoon each, dried
Heat oil in pan (ask an adult for help with the stove), add tomatoes, and heat till they begin to burst. Mash them with a fork.