Ivy and Bean Doomed to Dance (6 page)

Ivy worried, too. Ivy usually didn’t worry about real life. Ivy usually worried about things like the Permian extinction, when a whole lot of animals died. The Permian extinction was very upsetting, but it had happened 250 million years ago, so it wasn’t real life anymore.

This weekend Ivy didn’t think about the Permian extinction. She thought about how she would feel being a squid on a stage in front of a whole lot of people. She knew how she would feel. Stupid. She would probably trip, because she usually did. And even if she didn’t trip, she would be a squid. Everyone would know that Madame Joy had made her a squid because she was the worst dancer in the class. Too bad the Permian extinction didn’t wipe out squids, Ivy thought.

On Sunday afternoon, Ivy went over to Bean’s house to be measured for her squid costume. Bean’s mother had said she would make both squid costumes because Ivy’s mom didn’t like to sew. But it wasn’t even a real costume. Madame Joy’s picture showed a white leotard with a circle of droopy white tentacles hanging from the waist.

Madame Joy said that tentacles were a breeze to make. Bean’s mom didn’t think so.

“Who ever heard of squid costumes, anyway?” she muttered.

“No complaining,” said Bean.

“None of your lip there, missy,” her mother said.

That was grown-ups for you. They never followed their own rules.

“I suppose I could stuff a bunch of tights and sew them on,” Bean’s mother mumbled. Bean and Ivy exchanged looks.

“Tights?” Bean said. “Like the kind you wear on your legs?”

Her mother looked up. “Yes, tights. Stuffed tights. For the tentacles. Do you have a better idea?”

Bean thought of the Wilis in their long feathery dresses. She thought of herself with stuffed tights bouncing around her waist.

“Tights it is!” said her mother.

“We’re going to look like idiots,” said Bean.

“No complaining,” said her mother.

Monday started out badly. Ms. Aruba-Tate was at choking class. The Principal had told her to take choking class so she would know what to do if a student choked. Bean said if someone choked, you dangled them upside down by their ankles until whatever it was fell out. Ms. Aruba-Tate said she didn’t think so, but she would find out.

Ms. Aruba-Tate’s substitute was Teacher Star. Teacher Star wasn’t mean, but she never stopped singing. She sat on Ms. Aruba-Tate’s stool and strummed her guitar and sang. She told the second-graders to sing along, but they didn’t want to, so she sang alone. She sang and sang and sang some more.

Ivy read her book under her desk. Bean thought about choking. Then she thought about ballet class. She thought about Dulcie and her pink chiffon dance skirt. She thought about white tentacles made out of stuffed tights.

“There’s a little blue planet in the sky,” sang Teacher Star.

It was nice to see Ms. Aruba-Tate again after lunch recess, but by then Bean was too busy thinking about ballet class to pay attention to what Ms. Aruba-Tate was saying. Something about permission slips. She was waving a piece of paper. Who knew what it was about?

“Does anyone have any questions about our trip?” asked Ms. Aruba-Tate.

“What trip?” asked Bean.

“Will someone tell Bean about our field trip to the aquarium?” said Ms. Aruba-Tate. “Emma?”

“We’re going on a field trip to the aquarium,” said Emma.

“To see some ocean life,” said Dusit.

“We’re going to see them feed the sharks,” said Eric. “Raw meat.”

“And baby penguins,” said Zuzu.

“They’re going to feed the baby penguins to the sharks,” said Eric. He clashed his teeth together, being a shark.

“Eric,” said Ms. Aruba-Tate.

“Just kidding, Ms. Aruba-Tate,” said Eric.

“Oh!” said Ivy in a very loud voice. Everyone looked at her. Ivy hardly ever said anything in a very loud voice.

“Ivy?” asked Ms. Aruba-Tate.

Ivy gave Bean an enormous smile. Then she turned to Ms. Aruba-Tate and said, “I was just thinking about how much I love ocean life.”

BYE-BYE, BALLET

“We’re saved!” hissed Ivy, pulling Bean toward the door.

“Saved from what?” Bean hissed back.

“Being squids!” squealed Ivy. She raced out into the breezeway. Bean’s sleeve was in her hand, so Bean raced with her. Together they left the school behind and hurried toward Pancake Court.

“Okay,” puffed Bean, “how are we saved?”

Ivy stopped. “The field trip! We’re going to run away! We’ll run away to the aquarium, and we’ll stay there until after The World of Dance is over!”

Running away! What a great idea! Bean had been waiting for years to run away. What she had been waiting for was a reason. She didn’t want to hurt her parents’ feelings by running away for no reason. The World of Dance was a great reason. This was the chance of a lifetime.

Oh yeah. Bean suddenly remembered the other reason she had never run away. “What about food?” she asked.

“Easy-peasy-Parcheesi,” said Ivy. “I read about it in a book. You know how people throw money in fountains? We scrape it off the bottom of the fountain after the aquarium is closed at night, and then we buy food with it.”

That was pretty smart. Bean was impressed. Also, it would be fun to walk in a fountain without grown-ups freaking out about it. “Cool,” she said. “Where will we sleep?”

“We’ll find a good spot once we get there. Aquariums are good for sleeping because they’re dark.”