Jonah’s eyes practically pop out of his head. “Did you say BUG?”
Belly giggles. “Yes. Bug. It used to have a different name, but got renamed for how buggy it became. Here in Bog, we have such a big alligator population that the baby alligators eat most of the insects. But over in Bug, the villagers are constantly getting bitten now. They go through a lot of insect repellent.”
“Why doesn’t Bug have alligators?” I ask. “Don’t alligators just slither around any swamps they want?”
“Yes,” Belly says. “But here in Bog we understand that we must share our land, and our swamps, with swamp creatures. We’re respectful of all nature, including the gators. Prince Micha of Bug HATES alligators and tries to catch them. Even the baby gators! He even poisoned some of them! So all the swamp creatures that were in Bug’s swamps left and now live in our swamps.”
Oh, great. Double the alligators. Thanks, Prince Micha.
“Well, I’ll let you two settle in,” Belly says, heading for the door. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”
When the door closes behind Belly, I go over to the white dresser against the wall and open the bottom drawer. Lots of pajamas. I take out a pair of footed purple striped ones for myself and hand Jonah footed robot pj’s.
There’s an amazing bathroom attached to our room with a pink-and-purple spa tub, and after we each change and wash up, Jonah and I are both yawning and ready for bed.
Jonah scurries up his ladder in two seconds. My brother is definitely part monkey.
I watch as he cannonballs into the center of the top mattress.
“Wheeee! This is fun!” He lands on his stomach. “So comfortable. I should ask Mom and Dad to get me a hundred mattresses at home.”
Prince barks like crazy from the floor.
“Oops, forgot you!” Jonah says. He climbs back down, picks up Prince, climbs back up, and puts Prince on the bed.
Prince wags his tail happily and starts sniffing the edge of the mattress.
Yikes.
“Careful, Prince,” I say.
Prince keeps sniffing. And then he rolls right off the bed.
“Prince!” I yell as he tumbles through the air.
Incredibly, he lands on all four paws. He looks stunned but right away starts whining for Jonah to take him to the top again.
I guess my dog is part monkey, too.
I take a deep breath and stare up, up, up, at my one hundred mattresses.
Am I really supposed to sleep all the way up there? What if I fall off? What if I’m flipping onto my stomach and miss the edge of the bed by an inch and then roll off and break my neck? I’m zero percent monkey.
“Abby!”
I peer up. Jonah’s face is hanging over the top of his top mattress. “Go up! It’s so comfy!”
I put my foot on the ladder. Seems steady, I guess. I climb up. Carefully. Carefully. Ninety-eight mattresses, ninety-nine, one hundred. Whew. I make it to the top mattress and sit down on it hesitantly.
“Night, Abby,” Jonah says. He pulls his quilt up, fluffs his pillow, and starts snoring. Prince curls up beside him and starts snoring, too.
I lie down on the soft pillow and pull the quilt up to my neck. I really am tired.
I close my eyes.
I won’t roll off the top mattress. I won’t.
I open my eyes.
But what if I do?
Well, I definitely won’t roll off if I’m on my stomach. I very, very carefully flip over.
But why doesn’t this bed have rails on the sides? It’s kinda dangerous. And they could have put the bed against the wall. At least one side would have been safe.
I flick my eyes from side to side.
I can’t sleep on here. I just can’t. It’s too dangerous! Maybe I can knock the top mattress off onto the floor and just sleep on that. I try to pull it a bit, but I can’t budge it while I’m on it.
That’s it — I’m getting off this thing. I’ll sleep on the rug. At least I won’t fall to my death in the middle of the night.
I reach for the ladder. But it’s … gone?
Ahhh! Where’s the ladder?
Belly must have come back to check on us, thought we were asleep, and took the ladders away until morning.
I’m trapped up here! I can’t get down!
What if I have to go to the bathroom?
I have to go to the bathroom.
No, I don’t. But I might. And what then?
“Jonah?” I call, hopeful when he turns his head. But he’s fast asleep, his mouth open.
Great. Just great.
I very, very carefully flip over to my back and stare at the ceiling.
This is going to be a long night.
La, la, la. The sun is up, the sun is up! I am delirious with exhaustion! I haven’t slept at all! I haven’t moved in seven hours! I am very tired! Very, very tired!
My brother is still fast asleep.
“Jonah!” I call to him.
He doesn’t even stir.
“Jonah!” I yell louder.
He opens one eye. Prince gets up, stretches, then leaps over onto my bed.
“Careful!” I call to Prince.
He licks my cheek.
Jonah sits up and stretches. He’s smiling. Smiling! As though everything is normal! As if I didn’t just spend the entire night staring at the ceiling!
“Good morning,” my brother says. “I had the best night’s sleep of my life. I really wish I could have a hundred mattresses at home. Maybe I’ll ask for them for my birthday?”
“No,” I say. “No, no, no. How did you sleep so well? Weren’t you afraid of falling off?”
“Why would I fall off?” he asks.
“Because we’re up so high!”
“But, Abbs, that makes no sense. I’m not more likely to fall off here just because it’s high. And it’s not like I fall off at home. Why would I fall off here?”
Oh. Right. That is a very good point. Why didn’t I think about that last night?!
There’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” I say. Please be Belly with that ladder! GET ME OFF THIS THING.
Belly pokes her head in. Her brown hair is in a tiny bun. “Good morning,” she says with a smile. “I brought the ladders back.”
“Why didn’t you just leave them where they were?” I ask.
“It’s tradition to remove the ladder,” she says.
Tradition is big here. Fear of heights is not.
“Minerva and Lawrence would like you to join them for breakfast in half an hour,” she says. Then she stares at me before leaving.
“Jonah, did you notice her staring at me?” I ask.
Jonah looks at me. “Well, you do look a little … deranged.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your hair is all over the place, and your eyes kind of look like Slinkys. Like they’re going to pop out of your eye sockets.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You look tired,” he clarifies.
“I AM tired!” I say as I climb down the ladder. I’ve never been so thrilled to see a ladder in my life. Hello, ladder. I love you, ladder.
Once on the floor, I stretch. Ah. That feels good.
Jonah and I take turns using the bathroom. We should probably change our clothes for breakfast, but I don’t want to borrow any outfits without asking. So we go out into the hallway with Prince, wearing our pajamas. Belly is sitting on a chair outside, reading a book called Swamplands: The History of Bog. She pops up and puts the book in her pocket.
“I’ll bring you down to the dining room,” Belly says, and leads the way.
We arrive in a huge room with a long, shiny wooden table in the center. It’s set with gleaming gold utensils, and platters of food. Pancakes. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Little dishes of jam. Plus orange juice and fruit. Mmm. Breakfast always makes me feel better. Especially pancakes.
Minerva and Lawrence enter the room. Minerva is wearing an elegant white dress with a green scarf tied around her neck.
Lawrence has on a green suit with silver buttons. He’s wearing a long silver belt — more like a sash — that’s looped around his waist. The name tag on his suit lapel reads: ROYAL ADVISOR.
“Good morning, children!” Lawrence says to me and Jonah. “Join us.”
Lawrence and Minerva sit down at the head and foot of the table, and Jonah and I sit in the middle, across from each other. Belly brings in a bone for Prince and he gnaws at it happily under the table.
“How did you sleep?” Minerva asks, passing trays of food to me and Jonah. She’s asking both of us, but she’s only looking at me.
“So well!” Jonah says, eagerly serving himself pancakes, eggs, and toast.
“And you, Abby?” Lawrence asks. “How did you sleep?”
“Um …” I hesitate as I put a scoop of scrambled eggs on my plate. I can’t say that I didn’t sleep at all, that I was freaked out about falling the entire night. That would be rude. “I, um, slept fine,” I lie.
But I can’t help the giant yawn that escapes me. Ow. My neck is still stiff. I reach up to massage it a little.
Lawrence is staring at me.
Belly is staring at me.
Minerva is staring at me.
What is with all the staring in Bog? Is it a tradition, too?
“You don’t look fine,” Lawrence tells me, eyes gleaming. “You look exhausted.”
Again? Don’t people know that it’s rude to tell someone that they look tired? It’s basically saying they’re not looking good. I mean, I’m sure I do look tired. I am tired. Really, really tired!
“I didn’t sleep well,” I admit. “I wasn’t that comfortable on top of all the mattresses. Sorry.”
“Aha!” Lawrence cries.
Minerva is beaming.
Belly looks positively thrilled.
Jonah pauses while chewing a piece of toast. There’s jam on his chin. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow.
Here I was, trying not to make them feel bad that I had the worst night’s sleep of my life. And now they’re cheering the fact that I had the worst night’s sleep of my life?
“Let me explain why we’re so excited,” Lawrence says.
“Please do. Because I really don’t get it,” I snap.
He laughs. “All right. As I mentioned, the king of Bog died just last month,” Lawrence says. He touches a hand to his heart for a moment. “He never married or had any children,” he continues. “So there is no heir to take over as king or queen of Bog.”
“That’s terrible,” I say. “He didn’t have a will?” I know all about wills. Estate law is one of the important parts of law. I don’t think I’m going to be an estate lawyer — it sounds a little boring. But I will definitely have to study it when I go to law school.
“He did leave a will,” Lawrence says, sipping his coffee. “Before the king died, he decreed that the next ruler should be a princess.”
Jonah frowns. “Why not a prince?”
“The king once had a sister who got very sick,” Minerva explains. “She would have been princess of Bog had she lived. So he wanted a new princess to serve in her honor.”
I pause with my forkful of scrambled eggs midway to my mouth. “But how can there be a princess if the king didn’t have a daughter?” I ask.
“Good question,” Lawrence says. “It’s been my job to find a princess. According to Bog tradition, she must be between the ages of eight and fifteen. The problem is that there are no princesses in any of the neighboring kingdoms. And the one distant heir who might have agreed to rule Bog didn’t like the hot and humid weather and left just minutes after her arrival. So we have to find someone.”
“Wow,” Jonah says. “I can’t imagine giving up a kingdom just because it’s hot.”
“Princesses are extremely delicate, young man,” Lawrence explains. “In fact, here in Bog we have a princess test.”
“A princess test?” I ask.
“Anyone can claim to be a princess,” Lawrence says. “But there is one way to know for sure if someone is princess material.”
He can’t possibly be talking about the pea test, can he?
No. Impossible.
“How?” Jonah asks.
“By putting a pea under one hundred mattresses,” Lawrence says.
Oh, wow. He is.
“Only a princess sleeping on such a bed would be delicate enough to feel the pea,” Lawrence continues. “Then we know that person is destined to be the princess!”
“So of course we performed the princess pea test on all the girls in the kingdom,” Minerva jumps in. “All of them! Even the staff! Even Belly! But no one passed. Not one girl could feel the pea.”
“Maybe your mattresses are too comfortable,” Jonah points out.
“That’s not it,” Minerva says. “It’s that we haven’t found the right girl.” She pauses and looks at me. “Until now.”
Uh-oh.
“Abby,” Lawrence says, “how old are you?”
“I’m ten,” I say, my back tingling.
“Excellent,” Lawrence says, and gets to his feet. “Now, I have something important to show everyone. Please follow me.”
I am starting to feel uncomfortable. They didn’t … No. They couldn’t have … They didn’t put the pea under my mattress, did they?
“Can I bring my pancake?” Jonah asks.
Lawrence smiles. “Of course!”
We all stand and follow Lawrence up the stairs — me, Jonah, Minerva, Belly, and Prince.
He’s not taking us to our room, is he?
He takes us to our room.
He’s not going to point to my bed, is he?
He points to my bed.
“Abby,” Lawrence declares, “when you showed up out of the blue last night, seeking shelter from the storm, Minerva and I decided to test you! And you couldn’t sleep! Because you felt the pea!”
“What pea?” Jonah asks.
“The one under the very bottom mattress,” Minerva says. “I asked Belly to put it there while she was making up your bed last night.”
“Belly, be a dear and go up to the top and remove the mattresses one by one,” Lawrence says.
This could take a while.
Belly climbs up the ladder. She pushes the top mattress off. Minerva moves that mattress against the wall. Then Belly tosses off the next mattress. Then the next and the next and the next.
A half hour later, only one mattress remains.
Lawrence lifts up the last mattress. “There!”
“What?” I ask, peering over.
“See that?” he asks.
“I don’t see anything,” Jonah says.
Prince sniffs. He lunges.
“No, Prince!” I say, holding him back.
Because I see it. I see the pea!
It’s smushed. But there it is. Right in the center of the bottom of the mattress. It’s green and tiny.
I felt that? Under a hundred mattresses? That’s why I had so much trouble sleeping?
No way. I had trouble sleeping because I was fifty feet in the air.
“Can Prince eat the pea?” Jonah asks.
“Sure, why not?” Lawrence says. “After all, he’s a royal dog!”
“A royal dog?” I repeat, looking from Lawrence to Minerva to Belly.
“Yes! Hurrah!” Lawrence cheers. “You, Abby, are the princess we have been waiting for! You will rule the kingdom of Bog!”
Me?
Princess?
Oh, wow.
I really, really messed up the story this time.
Jonah bows. “Princess Abby, I’m proud to be your brother.”
“Jonah, it’s not funny.” I turn to the others. “Guys. I hate to disappoint you. But I am not a princess.”
“Of course you are!” Minerva cries. “You felt the pea!”
I turn to look at the pea again, but Prince has already swallowed it in one happy gulp.
“Jonah,” I say to my brother, “tell them I’m not a princess.”
&nbs
p; “Well, you’re not not princess material,” Jonah says, eating his pancakes off the plate he carried into the room. “You’re definitely bossy. You love telling people what to do.”
“You’re not helping!” I say.
“Your first order of business,” Lawrence says, ignoring my argument with Jonah, “will be to oversee your royal welcome ball. Oh, how the villagers will love a big party at the castle! We’ll have it tonight!”
I can’t be their princess! I’m in fifth grade and have a book report due Monday! I can’t run a kingdom — I can barely do my own laundry!
“I’m not a princess!” I insist.
“You are now,” Lawrence says. “You passed the test.”
“It’ll be my pleasure to serve you, m’lady,” Belly says, bowing before me.
Oh, brother.
“I’m really sorry,” I say. “But I can’t possibly be the princess of Bog. I have to get home in two days!”
“You can’t say no,” Lawrence says. “We need you.”
“Bog desperately needs a leader,” Minerva seconds.
“How about if you try it out?” Lawrence offers. “For at least one day. See what you think. Please. We beg of you. We Bog beg of you.”
I look at Jonah. He grins and bows again.
I sigh.
“Well, what does the princess need to do besides plan her royal ball?” I ask. Maybe by the time I have to leave, a new princess — the REAL princess of the story — will turn up. And her welcome ball will be all planned for her. I mean, she has to turn up sometime soon. It’s The Princess and the Pea! The princess! It’s HER story!
“You’ll sit on a padded throne while maids fan you with palm fronds and bring you snacks of your choice,” Lawrence says. “While you make decisions about hors d’oeuvres for the party, maids will gently rub your temples to ward off too much hard thinking.”
Hmm. That sounds kind of relaxing.
“Well …” I guess it couldn’t hurt. It’s not like I’m in a rush. I have two more days here.
Besides, back home, I’m not good enough to be leader of the carnival. Here, I’m a princess!
A royal princess with my very own kingdom.
Two Peas in a Pod Page 3
