by Ivy
“Excuse me,” said Ivy, still in a huffy voice. “We have work to do.” She pulled Bean by the arm.
A skinny first-grader plucked at her jacket when she reached the stairs. “I heard you found dinosaur bones,” he said.
“Yes, we did,” said Bean in a loud voice. “We found dinosaur bones.”
He looked at her nervously. “Can I see them?”
“Oh.” Bean had been ready for a fight. She tried to make her face into a smile as she told the kid where she lived. “Come by later this afternoon,” she said.
“Okay,” he smiled. “Can I bring my mom?”
“Bring anyone you want.”
As they walked home, Ivy said, “Nobody believed Mary Anning, either. They thought that the bones were just weird rocks. They told her to stop wasting her time. But in the end, she was right. Who cares what other people think?”
Bean stepped over a crack in the sidewalk. “I do. I want other people to know I’m right. Especially when I really am right.”
Ivy thought for a moment. “But you’re still right, even if they don’t think so.”
“I guess.” Bean sighed. “I just feel better if other people think I’m right, too.”
“Hardly anybody ever thinks I’m right,” said Ivy.
Bean nodded. That was true. A lot of people didn’t understand Ivy’s ideas. She had had plenty of practice at not being believed. That’s probably why she didn’t get as mad about it as Bean did. She just went ahead with her ideas anyway. You can do whatever you want if you don’t care what people think, Bean realized. But you have to do it alone a lot of the time.
They climbed the stairs to Bean’s front porch. “We need a good snack,” said Bean. “We have lots of digging to do.”
“A great big snack,” agreed Ivy. “What do you have?”
“Trail mix,” said Bean. “The kind with chocolate chips.”
“Cool. We can eat it while we dig.”
“We should be kind of quiet,” Bean added. “I think my dad is still a little grumpy from yesterday.”
But he wasn’t. He was standing in the front hall with a big smile on his face. “Hi, girls!” he called out. “How was school? Learn anything good? What’s two plus two? Eight?”
Bean giggled. Sometimes her dad was a goofball. “Four,” she said.
“Wrong again!” He slapped his head. “You want a snack? I made banana bread.”
“You did? How come?” Bean said.
“Because I make great banana bread. Duh,” he said, bustling toward the kitchen.
He was awfully cheerful. Bean put her hands on her hips. “What’s going on around here, Dad? Why are you so happy?”
Dad stopped bustling toward the kitchen. “I’m glad to see you,” he said.
Bean looked at him.
“I am.” Then he said, “It was quiet around here today.”
“Mom says it’s peaceful when we’re gone,” said Bean.
“I don’t like peaceful. I was lonely,” her dad admitted.
Bean laughed. “Hey. You’re just like me.”
Her dad had been so lonely that he had made three loaves of banana bread. He cut two thick slices and poured two glasses of milk and brought them to the kitchen table. Then he sat down to watch Bean and Ivy eat.
“What are you guys up to this afternoon?” he asked.
The girls exchanged glances. “It’s a secret,” said Bean slowly. If she told him, he might want to help, and that would ruin the youngest paleontologist record. He was old. “But by the end of the afternoon, you’ll know.”
“The end of the afternoon?” He looked disappointed. “Oh.”
Ivy felt sorry for him. “Thanks for the banana bread,” she said. “It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome.” He picked up the newspaper.
“See you later,” said Bean, getting up. She stopped and turned back to the table. “There might be some kids coming over later,” she said. “Just in the yard.”
He was reading. “Kids. Great,” he said.
DORKOSAURUS
“I think we better stop now. We’ve got to start putting them together,” Ivy said.
“Okay.” Bean’s arms were tired anyway. “We can always dig up more later.” There seemed to be no end to the bones in the ground. They had found four more since they had begun. The bone pile was getting high.
Both girls stared at it.
“Hmm,” said Ivy.
“Hmm,” said Bean.
“They never talk about this part in books,” said Ivy. “Should we lay them out and see what fits? That’s how you do puzzles.”
“Sure, okay,” said Bean. “There’s some clean grass over there.”
Lying out on the grass, the 21 bones didn’t look much like a dinosaur. It didn’t look much like anything.
“Maybe it’s just one part of a dinosaur,” said Bean.
“Or maybe it’s a small dinosaur,” said Ivy. “Remember, the small ones were more common.”
“Right.”
Ivy picked up the rounded piece that Bean had found the day before. “Let’s start with this. It’s a piece of skull.” She put it down on the ground, apart from the other bones. “So now we have to find a neck.”
Bean picked up the long, thick bone. “I bet this is a neck.”
Ivy tilted her head to one side as she looked at it. “I think you’re right.”
This was fun. “Oh, the neck bone’s connected to the shoulder bone,” sang Bean. Ivy put down a small bone that was almost the shape of a shoulder. “And the shoulder bone’s connected to the arm bone! There it is!” Ivy put down a narrow bone. “And the arm bone’s connected to the hand bone!”
“They didn’t have hands!” Ivy giggled. “How about the backbone?”
“Okay, the backbone.”
Ivy put down the first bone they had found. It flared out at one end. “That’s the hip,” said Ivy.
“Right,” said Bean. Then she sang, “The hip bone’s connected to the leg bone.”
Piece by piece, they made a dinosaur. It was a small dinosaur, and some parts of it were missing, but they would probably find those the next time they dug. When they had it all arranged, they stood back to look at it.
“Pretty good,” said Ivy.
“Don’t you think we should stick it together?”
“Yeah. I think they do it with wire in museums. Do you have any wire?”
“Wire? I don’t think so,” said Bean.
Ivy thought for a minute. “Just for now, we could use tape. We can take it off when we get some wire.”
“Tape. You got it.” Bean ran inside. “I think it’s almost three-thirty,” she said when she came out. In-betweens were hard. She was only positive when it was exactly an o’clock.
“This won’t take long,” Ivy said, pulling out a long piece of tape. She wrapped it around the skull and connected the other end to the neck bone. She had to wrap it four times before it stuck. Bean began to work on the foot. It only had one foot.
They were working so hard that they didn’t see Nancy until she was standing right next to them. “That’s disgusting,” she said, staring at their dinosaur.
Bean jumped. For some reason, she didn’t want Nancy to know about the dinosaur. “Go away!” she said.
“What is that?” Nancy asked.
Bean would never have answered in a million years, but Ivy didn’t know about sisters.
“It’s a dinosaur,” she said. “A compsognathus, I think.”
“A dinosaur?” Nancy began to laugh a high, mean laugh. “You think that’s a dinosaur?”
“Bug off, potato face!” yelled Bean. She was getting a bad feeling.
“It’s a dorkosaurus!” squealed Nancy. She held her stomach like it hurt from laughing. Bean glared at her. “You guys are total losers. A dog buried those. The people who lived here before us had a dog! Look—” she pointed at the neck bone—“That’s a steak bone!”
“Get out of here!” shouted Bean. She looked around wildly
for something to throw at her.
“Don’t worry. I’m leaving,” said Nancy, smiling. “Wait till I tell Dad. He’s going to be mad that you dug up the yard.” She stood on the back porch and made an L-for-loser sign with her finger and thumb.
“Shut up!” screamed Bean. She looked over at Ivy. Ivy was just sitting in the dirt. Bean stared at the dinosaur. Dog bones? Is that why they were so easy to find? Bean felt heavy all of a sudden. She wasn’t the youngest paleontologist in the world any more. Mary Anning still had the record. And Bean had nothing.
“Maybe she’s wrong,” said Ivy, finally.
“Maybe,” said Bean. Somehow, she didn’t feel very hopeful.
The back door opened, and Bean looked up, ready to shout at Nancy. But it wasn’t Nancy. It was her dad.
He came down the stairs slowly, looking at the hole and the dirt pile and the bones. Then he looked at Bean and Ivy, sitting quietly on the ground.
“Are you mad about the hole?” Bean asked.
“No. The hole’s fine,” he said. He squatted down next to her and looked at the dinosaur they had taped together.
“Nancy says they’re dog bones,” said Bean. He nodded.
“Are they?” asked Bean.
“I don’t know,” he said. “They might be.”
“Could they be dinosaur bones?” asked Ivy.
“I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “I’m pretty sure that if there were dinosaur bones here, they’d be buried deeper in the ground. I see that you worked really hard, though.”
“Yeah,” said Bean. She felt like crying.
There was a knock on the backyard gate.
“Who’s that?” asked Bean’s dad.
“Everybody,” said Ivy glumly.
THE BONES OF MYSTERY
“BEEE-EEEN! IIIII-VEEE!” squalled a voice. “Open the gate!”
I’m going to have to run away, thought Bean. She stood up, preparing for takeoff.
“Open up, you guys!” That was Leo. “I’m going to be late for practice!”
“I’m running away,” said Bean. “It was nice knowing you,” she said to her dad.
“Wait a second,” said Ivy. She looked at Bean’s dad. “You don’t know what these are the bones of, do you?”
“Nope. Can’t say I do,” he said.
“So you’re saying these bones are pretty mysterious, aren’t you?” asked Ivy.
“Sure. They’re pretty mysterious.”
“The most mysterious bones you’ve ever seen?”
He smiled. “You bet.”
Ivy nodded. “Good.”
“BEEEE-EEN!”
Ivy turned to Bean. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.” She walked calmly toward the back gate and opened it.
People streamed in. Bean couldn’t believe how many there were. Vanessa, Drew, Dusit, Emma, Zuzu, Sophie W. and Sophie S., Marco, Anya, Nascim, Jared, Leo with five guys she didn’t know, Leo’s sister Kiki, Isaiah, two fourth-grade girls who Bean didn’t know the names of, Leann from down the street, the skinny little first-grader along with about six other skinny little first-graders, some tiny brothers and sisters, and assorted moms.
“Hi,” said Bean in a small voice. What was she going to say to all these people?
“What happens next?” Bean’s dad whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know,” said Bean nervously. The tiny kids started playing in Bean’s playhouse, and the moms stood around the edges of the yard looking like they were late for something else, but the big kids crowded around Ivy and Bean. They didn’t look really friendly.
“So—let’s see the dinosaur bones,” said Vanessa.
“Yeah!” squeaked the skinny first-grader.
Showtime.
Then Bean heard Ivy take a deep breath. “Attention, please!” Ivy called. She climbed up onto the trampoline and stood there, looking down at everyone. “I have an announcement!”
“What?” said Leo.
Not even Mary Anning was as brave as Ivy, Bean thought. She felt suddenly lighter.
The crowd grew quiet, watching Ivy. She cleared her throat. “This afternoon, we had a visit from an expert, and he told us that these,” Ivy pointed to the bones, “are not, I repeat NOT, dinosaur bones.” She looked at the crowd below her. “The expert was unable to identify these bones. He says these are the most mysterious bones he has ever seen. Because of that, he has decided to name them The Bones of Mystery.”
Wow. Bones of Mystery. That’s exactly what they were! Bean climbed onto the trampoline and stood beside Ivy. “These are the bones of a creature never before seen,” she said in a loud voice. “Possibly a man-eating, saber-toothed, deadly-clawed creature.”
“We will let you know what the creature is as soon as studies have been done,” said Ivy. “We regret any inconvenience.”
There was a silence. Ivy and Bean looked down at the kids standing around the trampoline. They looked back. Finally, the skinny first-grader said, “Can I touch The Bones of Mystery?”
“You may,” said Bean, feeling like a queen. Kids quickly clustered around the bones, inspecting them and fingering their dirty dryness.
Then Bean’s dad spoke up. “I have an announcement, too,” he said. “Banana bread will be served in just a moment. Guests are invited to jump on the trampoline in the meantime.”
“Cool!” said Dusit, dropping his bone. “Lemme up there!”
“Me, too!” yelled Emma. “I bet I can do a flip.”
“So can I,” said Zuzu.
There was a rush for the trampoline. Ivy and Bean climbed down to let the others up. Vanessa stood nearby. “I told you they weren’t dinosaur bones,” she said.
Bean sucked in her breath. She knew what she had to say. “You were right, and we were wrong,” she said. “Probably.”
“I think it’s pretty exciting to find a creature that’s never before been seen,” said Ivy. “Especially a saber-toothed one.”
“Have some banana bread,” said Bean’s dad, coming up to them with a plate piled high.
“Thanks,” said Vanessa. She took two pieces.
Leo was poking the bones with his foot. “Bones of Mystery,” he said. “You guys are wacko.”
Ivy and Bean looked at each other. “That’s what they said about Mary Anning.”
ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER RECORD
The banana bread ran out quickly, but nobody left. Kids were digging and jumping and running around. The first-graders were spraying the hose into Bean’s hole. The moms were standing in a circle, chatting.
Bean found her dad sitting on the stairs. “Will you go get your camera?” she asked. “Please?”
He put his arm around her. “Why?”
“I think I’m breaking a record,” Bean said.
“Oh yeah? What record?”
“Biggest playdate ever. Come on, go get the camera. You have to have proof.” Bean gave him a shove.
“Okay, okay.” He got up and went inside.
Ivy climbed the stairs and sat next to her. “I’m still bummed that they aren’t dinosaur bones,” she said.
“Yeah,” Bean said. She was still bummed, too. She had really wanted to be the youngest paleontologist in the world. She looked out over the backyard full of kids. Maybe it wasn’t going to be the biggest playdate in the world, either. She should probably have a backup.
“I think I should try to break glass by screaming again. A wine glass. Not an animal.”
Ivy nodded. “A wine glass would be easier.”
“I’m going to do it. Tomorrow.”
Bean’s dad came back out on the porch with the camera. “What are you going to do tomorrow?” he asked.
Bean and Ivy smiled at each other. “Never mind,” said Bean.
IVY + BEAN
BOOK 4
SNEAK PREVIEW OF IVY & BEAN TAKE CARE OF THE BABYSITTER
BOOK 4 (COMING SOON!)
Thwack!
Bean was grinding corn. She put a few pieces of Indian corn on the sidew
alk and then smacked a rock down on top of them. Thwack! It hardly dented them, but that was okay. That was part of the fun. You had to pound for a long time. Thwack!
“What are you doing?” It was Nancy, standing on the porch.
“Grinding corn.” Thwack! Bean looked at her corn. It was dented now. “You can do some, too, if you want. I’ve got lots of corn.”
Nancy watched her pound. “What’s it for?”
“Food,” said Bean. “I’m making corn-bread.” Thwack! “Hey, look! Corn-dust!”
Nancy almost came to look. She even took a step down the stairs. But then she got a prissy look on her face and said, “Like Mom’s going to let you eat stuff that’s been on the sidewalk. Dream on.”
Bean could have thrown the rock at her, but she knew better than that. Bean was seven. Nancy was eleven. Bean knew how to drive Nancy crazy without getting into trouble herself. She began to yell, “Winter’s coming! If we don’t grind corn, we’ll have to eat rocks!”
“Cut it out, Bean!” hissed Nancy. “Everyone will see you!”
Nancy was always worried that everyone would see her.
Bean wanted everyone to see her. She lay down on the sidewalk and rolled from side to side, moaning, “Just a little corn-dust, that’s all I ask!”
The front door slammed. Nancy had gone inside. It was so easy to make Nancy crazy.
Bean lay on the sidewalk, resting. The sun was warm. She loved Saturdays.
“We’ve got dirt at my house,” said a voice beside her.
It was Sophie W. from down the street.
“What kind of dirt?” asked Bean.
Sophie smiled. Both her front teeth were out, and she had filled the hole with gum. “A lot of dirt.”
That sounded interesting. Bean jumped up and grabbed her bag of corn. Together, she and Sophie hurried around Pancake Court.
Usually, Sophie W.’s house looked a lot like all the other houses on Pancake Court, but today, it looked different. Today, there was an enormous mound of dirt in the front yard. A monster mound. It was as high as the front porch. Maybe even higher. It spread across half the lawn, all the way to the path. The dirt was dark brown, the kind of dirt that smells good and is already halfway to mud.
