“That’s great, girls,” said Ms. Aruba-Tate. “I’ll be excited to see that.”
“Me too,” muttered Ivy.
That afternoon at Bean’s house, Ivy was the lookout. That meant she stood outside the kitchen door, watching for Bean’s mom. If Bean’s mom came along, Ivy was supposed to fall on the floor and screech.
Inside the kitchen, Bean was standing on the counter. She was looking through the cupboards, trying to find rice. No luck. She wished she had said she was going to make chocolate chip energy. She knew where the chocolate chips were.
Crackers, more crackers, walnuts, ugly dried lumps she had never seen before, oatmeal . . . rice! Bean grabbed a handful and stuffed the package back on the shelf. “Got it!” she whisper-shouted to Ivy.
Ivy zipped into the kitchen. Bean jumped to the floor and held out her hand. There it was. A bunch of rice. There was no way they were going to get a Certificate of Scientific Achievement for rice. If only she had kept her mouth shut. “What the heck are we going to do with this?” she said.
Ivy looked at the grains, and her eyes got narrow. “There was this lady,” she began.
“Who?” Bean interrupted.
“Lisa Something,” said Ivy. “She was a scientist. I read about her in my Famous Women of Science book. She said you could get energy by breaking stuff into bits.”
“Cool!” said Bean. “Why don’t we just break some glasses, then?”
Ivy frowned. “Not those kind of bits. Tiny bits. In the book, she said atoms, which are really tiny bits, but I bet it would work with rice, too. She said there was lots of energy inside tiny things, once you broke them.”
It was a weird idea. When Bean broke stuff, it just lay there, broken. It didn’t start jumping around energetically.
Bean looked at the rice in her hand. It didn’t seem like there could be anything inside rice except more rice, but it was worth a try. “I’ll go get some hammers.”
Grand Slam
Bean thought her mom might not be happy if they hammered rice on the dining room table, so she and Ivy went outside. They found a board in the garage and laid it down on the grass. Bean and Ivy each took a grain of rice and set it on the wood. Then they slammed it with their hammers as hard as they could.
Cool. Rice dust.
They set out two more grains of rice. Slam! More rice dust.
Slam! Slam! Slam!
The board leaped up and flipped over, spilling rice dust into the lawn. “Hey! Did you see that board jump?” said Bean. “That’s energy for sure!”
“And no pollution,” said Ivy. “Let’s do it again!”
“It’s a science experiment! We have to do it again,” yelled Bean, lifting her hammer over her head.
“Don’t tell me this is another dorky solution for global warming,” said Nancy. She and Mischa stood over them in the grass.
“None of your beeswax,” said Bean.
“We’re making clean energy,” Ivy said at the same time. Bean shook her head. Now they were in for it.
“No offense, but you guys are totally lame,” giggled Mischa.
Bean could have banged Mischa’s toe with the hammer, but she didn’t. Ivy was talking. “Don’t you care about global warming?” she asked Mischa.
“Bor-ing!” said Mischa. “I’m, like, if I hear about global warming one more time, I’m gonna scream.”
“Don’t you care about the polar bears?” asked Bean.
Mischa shrugged. “Not really.”
“Don’t you care about nature?” asked Ivy.
Mischa rolled her eyes. “Bor-ing,” she said.
“What?” asked Ivy.
“Camping and all that,” said Mischa, shaking her head. “Totally boring.”
“What do you like?” asked Ivy.
“Shopping!” said Mischa.
“And Harky,” added Nancy, giggling. Mischa screamed and hit Nancy with her backpack, and they went inside.
Ivy stared after them. “What a couple of weirdos.”
Bean dropped her hammer into the grass and went to look at her ant friends in the dirt patch. They were still very busy, zipping to and fro on ant business. They still didn’t notice her at all.
“Look,” she said to Ivy. Ivy came over and knelt next to her. “Watch these guys. They have no idea that we’re here.”
Ivy put her finger down in front of an ant. For a moment he stopped, and then, looking annoyed, he climbed over her finger and bustled away.
Ivy and Bean lay on their stomachs, watching the ants. After a while, Ivy said, “I think they know we’re here, but they don’t like to think about it. We make them nervous.”
“Yeah. We’re so big.”
Ivy was quiet for a moment. “Do you think that Mushie girl is just pretending to hate nature? I mean, how can anyone hate nature?”
“Well,” Bean thought. “Maybe she’s scared of it. Have you ever been camping and you wake up in the middle of the night and it’s more dark than anything in the world and you hear sticks cracking?”
“No,” said Ivy. “I’ve never been camping, but sometimes the same thing happens to me in my own room.”
Bean nodded. She knew what that was like. “One time, when we were camping, we thought we saw a bear, and my mom freaked out. She ran to the car and made my dad drive us home, even though we were supposed to stay another night. She couldn’t take it. Nature freaks her out.”
“My mom is always thinking I’m going to get poison oak and ticks when I go outside,” said Ivy.
Bean sighed. “Grown-ups are scaredy-cats.”
“They can’t help it,” said Ivy. “They hate surprises.”
A long line of ants made its way past Ivy and Bean. They looked so sure of themselves, but Bean knew that if she dripped water on them, they’d go nuts.
“You know, what really freaks grown-ups out is not being in charge,” said Ivy. “Kids are used to not being in charge. That’s why we’re not scared of nature.”
“Grown-ups and ants are a lot alike,” Bean said. “If they relaxed a little, they’d have a better time,” said Bean.
Ivy rolled over onto her back and looked at the sky. “If grown-ups weren’t scared of nature, they’d probably try harder to save it from global warming.”
“You’re probably right,” said Bean. She sat up. “What if we did our science project on teaching grown-ups to be happy in nature? Is that a global warming solution?”
Ivy sat up, too. “Sure it is,” she said. “It’s definitely fighting global warming because if they loved nature, they wouldn’t drive stinky cars.”
Bean pictured grown-ups dancing around in a forest, looking happy. “They’d be inspired to save the trees and stuff,” said Bean. “None of the other kids have thought of changing grown-ups.”
“I bet we get that certificate thing,” said Ivy.
“Too bad it’s not money,” said Bean. “But I don’t care, really.”
“Maybe we’ll get money later,” said Ivy.
“Okay, we have to teach grown-ups to like nature,” said Bean. “What should we do?”
They thought.
“I guess we shouldn’t take them out into the forest and leave them, right?” Bean asked.
“Remember? They don’t like surprises. And we don’t want to scare them. We want them to be happy,” said Ivy.
“Okay, what makes grown-ups happy?” Bean said.
They thought some more.
“They like calm things,” said Ivy.
“And quiet things,” said Bean. Grown-ups were forever telling her to be quiet.
“And pretty things,” said Ivy.
“And they like to rest, too,” said Bean. “Grown-ups are always tired.”
Scientific Principals
“Welcome to the Emerson School Science Fair!” said a big sign over the cafeteria door. There was the Principal, standing by the door, saying hello to parents. She was smiling, but Bean thought you could never be too careful about principals. “I know a s
hortcut,” she said to her mom and dad. “Let’s go through the kitchen.”
Once they were inside, Bean and her parents met up with Ivy and her mom.
“Where’s your project, girls?” asked Ivy’s mom.
“Our class is over here,” said Bean quickly. “Let’s go.”
Sure enough, there was Ms. Aruba-Tate, next to a table marked “Room Twelve: Global Warming.”
Before her parents could start yakking with Ms. Aruba-Tate, Bean dragged them over to a bench where five kids were sitting in a row. “Look,” she pointed. “That’s Vanessa’s project.”
Her mom and dad looked. “Looks like a pack of kids to me,” her dad said. “What’s the project?”
“Wait. You’ll see,” said Bean.
“Five,” yelled Vanessa, holding a small clock. “Four. Three.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” said one of the kids.
“No you don’t. Two. One. Go!” All together, the five kids took a deep breath and held it.
“These are my brothers and sisters,” Vanessa explained to the watching parents. “We’re reducing carbon dioxide by not breathing out. Toby can hold his breath for seventy-six seconds. If everyone stopped breathing out for fifteen minutes a day, the world would be a lot cooler.” She looked at her clock again. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
“Whew.” The kids blew out their held-up breaths. Their faces were red.
“Are you guys doing yours soon?” Vanessa called to Ivy.
Ivy made a shh-face and turned to her mom. “Come on, Mom. I want to show you MacAdam’s lime car.”
MacAdam was hiding under the table, but he had a real lime with a paper clip and a penny in it and his drawing on the top of the table. It smelled good. Next door was fifteen minutes a day, the world would be a lot cooler.” She looked at her clock again. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” Eric’s project. He hadn’t had time to build the garbage robot, so he had used one of his toy robots to show his idea. A little plastic man had just tossed a clump of paper on the ground. He was smiling. He had no idea that behind him, a robot was glaring, waiting to whack him on the head. Eric had also made a poster. It read, “Clean Up or Else!”
Next to Eric’s robot was a vacuum cleaner. Dusit’s idea was to vacuum up all the heat, put it in a giant bag, and send it into outer space. In real life, it would have to be a special vacuum cleaner, but he had brought in a regular one as an example. “So that’s where it went,” his mom said.
Marga-Lee had made a picture of Earth with mirrors sticking up all over it. She said that the mirrors would reflect the sun’s rays back out into space.
“Wow,” said Bean’s dad, looking at her picture. “Pretty good idea.”
Bean almost said “Wait ‘til you see ours,” but she didn’t. She looked at Ivy and made a mouth-zipping sign. Ivy nodded.
Drew had made a baking soda and vinegar volcano. It didn’t have much to do with global warming, but it was fun to watch the foam spurt out of the top. He had put green food coloring in the vinegar.
Emma and Zuzu had taken about two hundred pictures of themselves digging holes and planting trees. There was also a picture of Rose the Yard Duty yelling at them for digging holes in the school lawn. Underneath, Emma had written “Doesn’t care about global warming.”
“But Ivy,” said Ivy’s mom, “where’s your project?”
Ivy gave Bean a help-me look, but then, just in the nick of time, Ms. Aruba-Tate interrupted. “Excuse me, may I borrow your daughters?” she asked. “It’s almost time,” she said to Ivy and Bean.
“We have to go do our project,” explained Bean to her parents.
“But what is it?” asked her mom.
“It’s a secret,” said Ms. Aruba-Tate. “You’re going to find out in a few minutes. Right, girls?”
“Right,” they agreed.
Grown-ups don’t usually do what kids tell them to do, so Bean and Ivy had asked Ms. Aruba-Tate to give the orders.
Ms. Aruba-Tate spoke into a microphone.
“All available parents, please come to the back of the cafeteria. Come to the back of the cafeteria.” She had to say it twelve times before the parents obeyed.
“And they get mad at us if they have to say things twice,” whispered Bean to Ivy.
Finally, a group of grown-ups was clustered at the back of the cafeteria.
“Okay,” said Ms. Aruba-Tate. “This is Bean.” She pointed to Bean. “And this is Ivy.” She pointed to Ivy. “Follow them. The other teachers and I will stay with the kids.”
“Is this your project?” asked Bean’s dad. “Yes,” said Bean. “Come on. Follow us.”
“Where are we going?” asked someone’s mom.
“Just outside,” said Ivy. “Not far. Come on.”
“How long is this going to take?” asked another mom.
“Not long. Don’t worry,” said Bean.
With grown-ups crowded behind them, they walked across the cafeteria and out the door into the cool night air. The grown-ups were mumbling things like “What’s going on?” and “It’s late” and “Sorry!” when they bumped into each other. But since a teacher had told them to, they all followed Ivy and Bean across the playground to the lawn. The light from the cafeteria was very dim. You could just barely see that the lawn was covered with rugs and blankets.
Ivy and Bean stopped and the grown-ups bunched up around them. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” said Bean. “There’s a blanket or rug or yoga mat for each of you. We’ll take you out with our flashlights and show you a good spot. Then you just lie down.”
“And then what?” asked Ivy’s mom. She sounded worried.
“And then you rest,” said Ivy. “Don’t be nervous,” she added to her mom. “I’ll be right here.”
“What does this have to do with global warming?” asked Dusit’s mom.
Ivy smiled mysteriously, but no one could see her in the dark. “Just try it,” she said.
Ivy and Bean showed all the grown-ups where to lie down. It was lucky that Ms. Aruba-Tate had brought extra towels, because there were more grown-ups than they had planned for. Even the Principal wanted to lie down. Bean gave her an entire blanket all to herself.
Soon there were grown-ups scattered all across the grass. In the dark, they looked like laundry.
“Now,” said Bean in a loud voice. “Look up into the sky. Smell how nice the grass is. Listen to the trees. And just rest. Don’t talk. Don’t do anything. And don’t worry. You’re totally safe.”
Happy Ending
A few grown-ups muttered. Bean heard someone say something about bedtime. One dad sat up, but he flopped down again when he saw Bean coming toward him.
In a minute or two, the grown-ups got quiet. Ivy and Bean heard some gentle sighs. Ivy poked Bean in the ribs. “See,” she whispered. “They’re getting happy.”
Bean was getting happy, too. She couldn’t lie down, because she was taking care of the grown-ups, but she could feel the cool night air and she could listen to the leaves move. She could smell the damp dirt under the grass.
She and Ivy stood side by side, making sure that nothing surprising happened. “I think they’re liking nature,” whispered Ivy.
“I think so, too,” whispered Bean. For just a moment, she felt like the grown-ups were the little ants and she was the giant who understood how big the world really was.
A grown-up began to snore softly. Way out on the lawn, the Principal curled up on her side. Ivy checked Ms. Aruba-Tate’s glow-in-the-dark watch. “Two more minutes,” she whispered.
Ivy and Bean watched the grownups resting. The two minutes passed.
“All right, grown-ups,” said Ivy gently. “It’s time to get up now.”
Some of the grown-ups moaned a tiny bit. They didn’t want to get up. Eventually, they struggled to their feet. Except for three who had fallen asleep. Bean woke them up nicely. It would have been fun to pour water on their faces, but that wouldn’t have made them happy.
Whe
n all of them were on their feet, Bean said, “Okay. That was our science project. You can go now.”
But they didn’t. They stood looking at her and Ivy.
“Wait,” said a mom. “How was that about global warming?”
Ivy and Bean glanced at each other. Even in the dim light, Bean could see that the grown-ups were confused. “Were you happy?” asked Bean.
“What?” said the mom.
“Were you happy while you were lying down?” asked Bean.
“Well, yes,” said the mom. “Sure. It was great.”
“That’s it,” said Ivy. “We wanted you all to feel happy in nature.”
“So you would care about global warming,” explained Bean.
There was a little pause. Bean and Ivy looked at each other—what was so hard to understand?—and then the mom said, “Oh. I get it.”
The other grown-ups smiled. “That’s a good one,” said a dad. “That’s a really good one.” The other grown-ups yawned and nodded. They began to drift back to the cafeteria, except for Ivy and Bean’s parents.
Ivy’s mom took Ivy’s hand. “I was happy,” she said.
“Really? You weren’t worried about poison oak and bugs?” Ivy asked.
“At first, I was, a little bit. But then I did what you said, Bean, and smelled the grass and listened to the trees. I haven’t done that in a long time.”
“And now you care about global warming?” Ivy asked.
“Sure I do.”
Ivy turned to Bean. “It worked!”
Bean elbowed Ivy. “Of course it worked. It couldn’t help working. It’s science.”
As they walked back to the cafeteria to give Ms. Aruba-Tate her watch, Bean’s dad put his arm around her shoulder. “That was a great science project, sweetie. Much better than my poster idea.”
Bean gave him a squeeze. “Oh, Dad, don’t feel bad. You’re a grown-up. You can’t help it.”
Ivy and Bean let the grown-ups walk ahead. “They’re all caring about global warming now,” said Ivy. “I can tell.”
Ivy and Bean: What's the Big Idea? Page 3
