The Secret to Success

by Sheila Greenwald

  “I don’t like glitter glue,” Billy said.

  “You have to listen to me,” Willow insisted. “I know how factories work.”

  “I know how business works,” I said. “Crafts that look exactly the same won’t sell.”

  I picked up one of the headbands.

  “Gloria, you can start on the purple headband,” I said, handing it to her. “Billy, you can do green, and Charlie—”

  “I want to make paper planes,” Charlie interrupted me. He reached under the stack of crafts for the box with the paper parts to cut and fold.

  “My great-grandpa owned a toy factory,” Willow shouted. “An assembly line is the fastest way to produce a finished product.”

  “My great-grandpa worked in a factory,” Gloria told her. “When the bosses got too bossy, he and the other workers went on strike.”

  “What’s a strike?” Billy asked.

  “If the boss isn’t fair, the workers get together and walk off the job,” Gloria said.

  “Who said a boss was supposed to be fair?” Willow asked. “A boss is supposed to be bossy. A boss is supposed to make sure you get the work done.”

  “I don’t want to get work done in a factory,” Charlie announced. He stood up and put on his coat.

  “Me neither,” Gloria said. She took her jacket and followed him to the door. So did Billy.

  “Don’t forget the kits are mine!” Willow yelled after them.

  “Don’t forget,” I said quietly, “the team is ours.”

  I joined the rest of our team by the elevator. Billy’s nose was twitching, and Gloria was shaking her head. Charlie pushed the button for the elevator ten times in a row.

  Willow watched us from her door.

  “This team is giving me an earache,” she groaned.

  “The doctor said your ear is better,” I reminded her. “You could go back to school.”

  “Why should I go back? No one liked me. I never had any friends there,” Willow whimpered.

  “And now I know why,” I said.

  “You’re as bossy as Flossie,” Gloria told her.

  The elevator door opened. Charlie, Gloria, and Billy stepped in and waited for me.

  I stepped into the elevator and looked back at Willow.

  She was wrong to insist on an assembly line and wrong to say the team gave her an earache, but Gloria was right.

  “We do have a lot in common,” I told her.

  “We do?” she asked me.

  “Yes,” I said. “But you don’t know much about how to run a business.”

  Willow took her hands off her ears and walked over so she could stop the elevator door from closing.

  “Come back,” she told us. “No more assembly line.”

  We all stepped out of the elevator and followed Willow back into her apartment. There was a lot of work to do.

  7

  BAD NEWS, GOOD NEWS

  No wonder your mom loves making crafts,” I told Imogene first thing in the morning. “Working with Willow’s craft kits is so much fun.”

  “Willow’s craft kits?” Imogene gasped. She waved her hand in the air. “Ms. Cabot, Ms. Cabot,” she called out, “is it fair that Flossie’s team is using Willow’s craft kits if Willow isn’t even in our class?”

  Ms. Cabot thought about it. “Willow needs to be in school to be part of a booth at the charity drive,” she decided. “Let’s all hope she’s back soon.”

  “She will be,” I assured everyone.

  “Until she’s in our class, I’m not making crafts at Willow’s anymore,” Gloria told me. “I want to be part of a booth that raises money at the charity drive.”

  “Me too,” Charlie agreed. “I’m done with crafting.”

  After school, Billy and I walked home alone. When we rang the doorbell at Willow’s, she was surprised.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked.

  “Ms. Cabot said you have to be in school to be on our team,” I said.

  Willow began rubbing her ears.

  “They hurt,” she whined. But from the way she looked, it wasn’t just her ears that were hurting.

  “What would your great-grandpa say now?” Billy asked me after Willow closed the door on us.

  “If plan A doesn’t work, there’s always plan B.”

  “What’s plan B?” Billy asked.

  “I have to think about it,” I said.

  And so I thought and I thought.

  The next morning, I waited at the elevator to tell Billy the bad news.

  “There’s no plan B,” I said as soon as the elevator door opened.

  Only the person who stepped out first wasn’t Billy. It was Willow.

  “I’m going back to school,” she said.

  When we walked into the classroom, Ms. Cabot made an announcement.

  “Let’s all welcome back Willow,” she said.

  “Welcome back, Willow!” everyone shouted.

  I didn’t think anyone would call her Weeping Willow ever again. She couldn’t stop smiling.

  When we left school, Willow ran ahead of the team, even faster than Gloria.

  “Speed it up,” she shouted. “We have a lot to do.”

  Willow’s nanny brought in a tray of cocoa and cookies, but we hardly had time to eat or drink a thing. We were working hard to finish every item in every craft kit on the table.

  Before we left Willow’s, Gloria counted up what we had done.

  “We’re ready for the sale on Monday,” she said.

  “Too bad they say there’s a blizzard heading our way on Sunday,” Willow’s nanny said. “But weatherpeople are often wrong.”

  8

  WEATHERPEOPLE ARE NOT WRONG

  On Sunday morning, Mom looked out the window. “Who would go out on a day like this?” she asked.

  “You and me,” Dad told her. “It’s our shift at the hospital, blizzard or not.”

  “Hooray, blizzard!” Simon cheered. “Snow day tomorrow.”

  “Snow day tomorrow?” I wailed. “It’s Charity Drive Day!”

  Willow called. She was crying.

  “Monday is a snow day,” she wept. “Mom and Dad are stuck at the toy fair in LA. My nanny’s stuck home with a cold. I’m stuck with her daughter, Patsy, and a load of crafts and no charity booth to sell them at.”

  She was crying so hard she couldn’t catch her breath.

  I had to think of something.

  “Remember, when plan A doesn’t work, there’s always a plan B,” I said.

  “What plan B?” Willow sobbed.

  I searched Great-Grandpa’s words of advice on the bulletin board over my desk.

  Right time + right place = Winner.

  “Don’t worry,” I told Willow. “We have a winner.”

  In my closet I found a piece of poster board left over from my lemonade stand and got to work on plan B.

  I guessed Willow’s sitter Patsy would say no to my plan B taking place at Willow’s since she didn’t have permission from her parents.

  So I was glad when Mom told Simon he was in charge before she and Dad left for work.

  But when I showed him my sign, he shook his head.

  “No way,” Simon said after he read it. “If anything goes wrong, it will be my fault.”

  “Patsy’s too,” I said.

  “Patsy?” Simon asked. “Patsy who?”

  “Willow’s nanny is sick, so her daughter is there instead.”

  Simon’s frown turned to a smile. “Patsy’s in my class,” he realized.

  I knew she was. He talked about her a lot.

  “Actually, what could go wrong with a craft sale? Maybe it’s a great idea,” Simon decided.

  “It is a great idea,” I agreed. “The craft sale booth we planned for was supposed to hap
pen on Monday. But Monday is a snow day. If we hold a sale now, we’ll raise money for charity even though school is closed.”

  When Billy and Willow heard my plan, they were excited.

  When Patsy heard my brother Simon was in charge, she was thrilled.

  Simon printed out our flyers on his computer.

  Billy distributed copies to apartments in the building. Willow and I hung the sign I made in the lobby.

  “Let’s not show all our crafts,” I told Willow. “In case the charity drive at school is put off for another day we’ll need some to sell.”

  “It looks nicer if the table is full,” Willow disagreed.

  “Too much stuff on display makes everything look cheap,” I said. “I know something about presentation.”

  “I know about presentation, too,” Willow barked. “Remember, my parents own a toy store.”

  “Remember I’ve owned a lemonade stand, a beauty parlor, and a vegetable stand.”

  “Remember, the crafts are mine,” Willow said.

  She dumped out all the boxes onto the dining room table.

  I wanted to put some back, but it was too late. The doorbell was ringing.

  9

  CRAFT FAIR TIME

  There stood Ethan Schuster from the tenth floor with his mom, and the Foster sisters, Emma and Anna, with theirs. The Herman twins, Coco and Calvin, were with their dad.

  Patsy and Simon gave everyone a glass of apple juice. The craft fair was off to a good start.

  “This is great,” Mr. Herman said. “Getting stuck indoors all day is no fun.”

  “It’s so nice to see other kids from the building,” Ms. Foster said. “And it’s lovely that you’re selling your crafts for a good cause.”

  “Ethan, do you want anything?” Ms. Schuster asked her son.

  Ethan shrugged. Coco and Calvin started digging through the pile of crafts on the table.

  “Since you have two babysitters here, I’ll zip up to my place,” Ms. Schuster told Patsy and Simon. “I’ve got a load of laundry to take care of. When I pick up Ethan, I’ll pay for what he has bought.”

  “I have a stack of papers to go through,” Ms. Foster told Emma and Anna. “Just select what you want and I’ll be back with my wallet.”

  “While you pick something out, I’ll go home to check on my mail,” Mr. Herman told the twins.

  The parents left without finishing their apple juice.

  As soon as they were gone, Simon and Patsy went to feed the mice.

  I clapped my hands for attention.

  “The charity craft sale is open,” I announced.

  Calvin picked up a glow-in-the-dark worm and started wagging it in his sister’s face.

  “That’s five dollars,” I told him.

  Coco picked up another worm and started shaking it, too.

  “Careful,” I said. “We worked really hard on those.”

  Anna selected a duct-tape belt, but Emma said she touched it first and pulled it out of her hand.

  “There are nineteen more of those,” Willow said. “You don’t have to fight over that one.”

  Emma ignored her and kept tugging on the belt to get it away from her sister.

  Calvin and Coco were hitting each other with handfuls of worms. Ethan stacked all twelve headbands on his head and walked around trying to balance them.

  One headband fell over his eyes, so he couldn’t see. He bumped into Calvin, who fell against Coco. A worm landed on Anna’s head, and suddenly everyone was screaming and shoving. Before I could do anything, the table tipped.

  Beads, glitter glue, and apple juice were all over the rug.

  I ran to Simon’s door and banged on it.

  “Help!” I hollered.

  Simon opened his door, saw the mess, and got a mop. Patsy tried to calm Anna, who was screaming because she had glow-in-the-dark worms stuck in her hair.

  Billy had glitter glue all over his shirt. “I hate glitter glue,” he said.

  “I hate messes,” Simon said. He mopped up apple juice on the floor and went to get the vacuum.

  Everything was ruined.

  The doorbell was ringing again, and the parents were back.

  “Sorry it took so long,” Ms. Foster said. “What did my girls pick out to buy?”

  “There’s nothing to buy,” I told her.

  She looked down at the twelve headbands, fifteen glow-in-the-dark worms, seven food-fight sets, apple juice puddles, and glitter on the floor.

  “Oh, sad,” she said.

  “So sad,” Ms. Schuster agreed.

  “Sad, sad,” Mr. Herman repeated.

  “What’s really sad is the money we never got to raise for the families in shelters and hospitals, and the children who won’t get presents for the holidays,” I said.

  “No presents for the holidays?” Coco asked.

  “Some kids don’t get any,” I told her. “If we had crafts for you to buy, we could have made a difference. They would have had presents for the holidays. But now they won’t get anything.”

  As we watched our customers troop out the door with not a single sale, I tried to think of something Great-Grandpa said that could cheer up my team.

  I had tried helping others, but that wasn’t the key to success. It seemed as if helping others was the key to apple juice all over the floor and Billy covered in glitter glue.

  10

  WIN SOME, WIN SOME

  Tuesday morning the snow was cleared. Willow’s mom and dad were back from LA. Tipton’s Toys for Tots was open. So was school.

  “Since we couldn’t have the charity drive on Monday, it will take place tomorrow,” Ms. Cabot announced first thing.

  “I’ll need a shopping cart to bring in all the toys I’ve collected for the toy booth,” Imogene bragged. “I’ve got tons.”

  “So do we,” Gloria boasted. “Tons and tons.”

  Charlie and Gloria sang out, “Go craft team.”

  Billy’s entire face began to twitch.

  Willow pulled on both ears.

  “Our team has a problem,” I told Gloria and Charlie.

  After I clued them in on “the problem,” they were not happy.

  “You should have told us you were having a sale on Sunday!” Gloria scolded me.

  “We thought there wouldn’t be any school sale,” I explained. “We thought at least we’d sell something.”

  “So, Bossy Flossie, you made your great idea happen, and your great idea was a great big flop,” Charlie growled.

  After a moment, Billy began to sputter. “If p-plan A doesn’t work, there’s always p-plan B,” he said.

  “Are there any crafts left that weren’t too damaged?” Charlie asked.

  “We didn’t throw anything away,” I said. “Let’s check.”

  After school, our team met to search through the bag of ruined crafts.

  “My headbands are a mess,” Gloria moaned.

  “But the worms are okay,” Charlie reported. “I could add some fresh paint.”

  “The paper planes are all sticky from apple juice,” Billy said. “I guess I could clean them off.”

  We set aside whatever we thought we could sell. There wasn’t much.

  Gloria began to cry.

  We were all so sad we hardly heard the doorbell ring.

  It was Ethan and Coco and Calvin and Emma and Anna with their parents.

  Their arms were full.

  “I’m sorry we ruined your crafts,” Emma said.

  “When you told us you didn’t have anything to sell, we felt bad about the people in the hospitals and the shelters who we didn’t help.”

  Ethan shook out the change and bills in his piggy bank. “My allowance,” he said.

  “Mine too,” Coco said. She emptied a box of money on top of Ethan�
��s pile.

  “We’re getting new toys and books for the holidays, so someone might like these,” Anna told me. She set down a bag full of dolls and games.

  “We wish they were new,” Emma added.

  “But Ms. Cabot said we can’t sell used toys,” I said. “It’s on the instructions.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Willow said very slowly as if she were about to announce a great, new idea.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Because I have tons of new toys to give to the toy booth at the charity sale,” she said.

  As soon as Coco and Calvin and Emma and Anna and Ethan left with their parents, I grabbed Willow by the arm.

  “Are you really giving away all your toys?” I asked.

  “I never liked them,” Willow said.

  “But we can’t sell them at our booth,” Gloria said. “We have a craft booth. These are toys.”

  “Imogene has the toy booth,” Willow said. “She could sell our toys.”

  All four of us were quiet for a minute.

  “With these donations, Imogene’s toy booth will be tomorrow’s big hit at the charity drive,” Charlie realized. “She’ll be the winner.”

  “Maybe there’s more than one way to win,” Billy said.

  Suddenly I began to tingle and glow from head to toe. “That’s it!” I cried.

  “What’s it?” Billy asked.

  “My great-grandpa’s secret to success,” I shouted.

  “It’s not a secret anymore,” Charlie said. “We all found out how it feels to help.”

  He sent a paper plane flying right up to the ceiling. “It works,” he cheered.

  And we all joined in.