Ivy and Bean No News Is Good News (3 page)

The first stop was Kalia’s house. Kalia was only two, so she couldn’t read
The Flipping Pancake,
but Kalia had parents. Both Kalia’s parents were named Jean, which Bean thought was hilarious. Jean the girl answered the door.

“Hi, Bean,” she said. “What can I do for you?” A terrible scream came from upstairs.

“Is that Kalia?” asked Ivy.

“Is she okay?” asked Bean.

“She’s fine,” said Jean. “She’s napping.”

Bean cleared her throat. It was time for her speech. “Hello, I’m Bean,” she said. Another terrible scream rang through the house. Bean talked louder. “Would you like to know the latest exciting news about Pancake Court? For only one dollar, you can get one thrilling issue of
The Flipping Pancake.
And you’ll be helping to keep two neighborhood children off the streets.” She smiled at Jean with all her teeth, just like the people on television.

“All for the bargain price of one dollar,” said Ivy. That was her part.

Upstairs, something heavy crashed to the floor.

Together, Ivy and Bean began to sing, “Get the news of Pancake Court! Pancake Court! Pancake Court! All the news of Pancake Court! For! Only! A dollar!” Ads on television usually had songs.

“Sure.” Jean was looking at the ceiling. “Sure. A dollar. Hang on a sec!” She zipped down the hall. Ivy and Bean waited on the doorstep, listening to something hit a wall and break into lots of pieces. Jean zipped back.
“Great! Here!” She handed Ivy a dollar just as the next scream blazed through the house. “Bye!” she said, shutting the door. They heard her running up the stairs.

“Wow. Aren’t you glad we decided not to babysit?” said Bean.

Ivy nodded and stuck the dollar in her pocket. “One dollar down, nine to go.”

The next house was Mrs. Trantz’s. Mrs. Trantz’s yard had sparkly white stones and big silver bubbles and teeny fences around every rosebush. It looked like someone nice
lived there, but that was a big lie. If Bean even so much as put one foot on Mrs. Trantz’s pink front path, Mrs. Trantz whipped out the front door and started yelling.

“Forget it. Not worth it,” said Ivy.

Bean nodded. Whew.

They moved on to Jake the Teenager’s house. Jake the Teenager was in the garage beside his house. They knew he was in there because loud music with bad words in it was leaking out of the garage windows. Jake the Teenager didn’t seem like the type
to be interested in
The Flipping Pancake,
so Ivy and Bean didn’t go to the garage. They went to the front door of the house. Bean was surprised that Jake the Teenager’s dad heard the doorbell over the music, but he did. Bean hollered her speech as loud as she could, and Jake the Teenager’s dad nodded and smiled. But just when Ivy was about to say “All for the bargain price of one dollar!” a really amazingly bad word came flying out of the garage, and she lost her mind. “Give us some money!” she screeched.

Jake the Teenager’s dad nodded very fast and pulled three dollars out of his pocket. “Go, go!” he bellowed. “Run away!” He waved his hands, shooing them away before they could hear any more bad words. They didn’t even get to do their song.

When they got down to the sidewalk, Bean looked at the three dollars. “Do we have to give him three copies of
The Flipping Pancake
?”

“No,” said Ivy. She thought. “I think he gave us extra to forget that bad word.”

“It’s working!” said Bean. “I can’t even remember it.”

Ivy and Bean looked at each other and giggled.

After Jake the Teenager’s house came Fester the dog’s house. No one was home but Fester. He howled when they rang the doorbell, but he couldn’t answer.

Next, Ruby and Trevor’s mother gave them a dollar before Bean had even finished her speech. Of course Ivy’s mother subscribed. She paid for two copies. Katy and Liana’s father said he’d always wanted to know what was going on in Pancake Court.

At Dino and Crummy Matt’s house, their mother said she wished that her children were so hard working. She said it really loud, so Dino and Crummy Matt could hear her over their video game. Ivy and Bean smiled modestly as she handed them a dollar.

It was easy, giving speeches, singing songs, taking money. It was easy and fun. “I don’t know why my mom and dad complain about going to work,” said Bean as they left Mr. Columbi’s house. “It doesn’t seem like such a big deal to me.”

“Careful of the car!” yelled Mr. Columbi from his front porch. He was always worried about his car.

Bean waved and smiled and stuffed Mr. Columbi’s dollar in her pocket.

“I bet we could make even more money,” said Ivy, looking at Sophie W.’s house.

“Why? We have ten dollars. That’s enough for two bags of Belldeloon cheese,” Bean pointed out.

“I guess you’re right,” said Ivy. “We don’t want to get worn out.”

“I can’t believe that’s what you wanted to buy with your hard-earned money,” said Bean’s dad. “Cheese!”

Bean and Ivy didn’t answer. They were happy. Each of them had a little red bag of Belldeloon cheese hooked over her wrist. The bags bounced against their legs as they walked across the parking lot. It felt nice.

“Why do you want cheese?” he asked.

“We like cheese,” said Bean. There was no reason to tell him about the wax. He wouldn’t understand.

“Especially lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size,” murmured Ivy, getting into the car.

They sat quietly in the backseat as Bean’s dad drove them home. They had planned everything out. They were going to wait until they got home to open their bags. They would each eat just one cheese ball that afternoon. Then they would switch off cheese days. Ivy was going to go first. Tomorrow, she would bring a Belldeloon ball to school. The next day, Bean would bring a Belldeloon ball. The cheese-bringer would split her wax with the non-cheese-bringer. Ivy was going to use her half circle of wax to make a tiny voodoo doll. Bean wanted to squish hers in front of Vanessa. For ten days, they were going to drive everyone in Emerson School crazy. It was going to be great.

“So!” called Bean’s dad from the front seat. “When are you going to start your writing?”

Ivy and Bean didn’t answer. They were thinking about wax.

“Girls!”

“What?” said Bean dreamily.

“You’re going to start writing when we get home, right?” he asked.

“What?”

“Stop saying what! Your magazine! You’re going to start writing it today, right?”

“Magazine?”

“The magazine! The newspaper!” he yelled. “The one you sold!
The Flopping Pancake!
”

“Oh yeah. That,” Bean said. “You don’t have to yell.”

“Well? Are you going to start today?” He was still yelling a little.

“After we have some cheese,” said Bean. “Maybe.”

Bean’s dad pulled into the driveway. He stopped the car and then he turned around to look at Bean and Ivy with narrow eyes. “Before you have some cheese,” he said. “For sure.”

Dang.

+ + + + + +

“Okay. We did it. Can we have our cheese?” Bean said, coming into the kitchen with Ivy. “Where’d you hide the bags?”

Her dad looked up from his computer. “Let’s see this newspaper first.”

Bean handed him a piece of paper. At the top, it said
The Flipping Pancake
in enormous pink letters. Below that were some other words. Bean’s dad read them out loud. “Everyone on Pancake Court will be happy to know that Ivy and Bean just got Lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size. It costs five dollars a bag. But it’s worth it! Weather today: Cloudy.” He looked up at Bean.

“See, we did the weather, too. Can we have our cheese?” she asked.

“Bernice Blue, do you really think this is your best work?” he asked.

Oooh! Trick question! Grown-ups were sly. If you said No, they got mad. If you said Yes, they got mad. But you had to say something.

“Yes!” Bean said firmly.

“I don’t think so,” said her dad. He gave her a serious look.

Bean tried another way. She made her eyes big. “We did the best we could,” she said in a little voice. Ivy made her eyes big, too, and nodded sadly.

Her father frowned at her. “I don’t think so,” he said again sternly. “Listen, girls, you promised people news about Pancake Court. You took their money. You have to deliver what you promised. Once you’ve made a real newspaper, with real news, you can have your cheese. Not before.”

“That’s not fair!” cried Bean.

“It’s perfectly fair,” he said, frowning some more.

“How are we supposed to find news about Pancake Court?” Bean squawked. “Nothing ever happens around here.”

“Nonsense,” her father said. “Hundreds of things are happening all the time on Pancake Court. Your job is to go out there and get the story!” He waved his hands. “Go! Discover! Write!”

“It’s almost night,” said Bean, stalling.

“Nice try. It’s afternoon. Get out there!” he said. He sounded very enthusiastic. “Find out what makes Pancake Court tick!”

“And then we get our cheese?” Ivy asked.

“Give us news, give us truth, and you will get cheese!” he said, thumping his fist on the kitchen table.

Bean rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said to Ivy. “Let’s go get the stupid story.”