SQUISH, SQUISH, SQUISH
Bean looked around the lunch table. Vanessa had it. She got it every day. Zuzu had it. Emma had it. Marga-Lee had it. Dusit and Eric had it. Even MacAdam had it. Everyone had it except Bean and Ivy.
While Bean watched, Vanessa opened her lunchbox and took out a small red ball. It was a ball of cheese, but nobody cared about the cheese. The cheese was totally unimportant. The important thing was the coating around the cheese. It was wax.
The wax was red. It was smooth. If you pulled on the secret string inside it, the wax split into two halves. You unfolded them and took the cheese out. Sometimes you took a bite of cheese. Mostly, you didn’t. You rolled the wax between your hands until it was warm. Once it was warm, you could squish it. You could squish it and squish it. You could make it into a shape. You could put it on your face. You could hold it for the rest of the day, and it would get dirtier and dirtier, until finally it was a small brown lump. Then you could stick it in the middle of your table and say it was a booger.
“Lookit,” said Vanessa, rolling her wax. “I’m making a soccer ball.”
Maybe Mom surprised me, Bean thought. Maybe she sneaked a cheese ball in my lunch for a special surprise. She peeked in her lunchbox. Nope.
“Lookit,” said Zuzu. She had made a little wax horn. “I’m a unicorn.” She stuck it in the middle of her forehead.
Bean could grab the horn. She could grab it and run away with it and move to another country where she wouldn’t get in trouble. She sighed.
Ivy poked her with an elbow. “Pretend you don’t care,” she whispered.
“Check this out,” said Dusit. He stuck his wax underneath his nose so it looked like blood was dripping out. “Ms. Aruba-Tate’s going to freak.”
Bean turned to Eric, who was squishing hiswax flat. “Trade you my granola bar for your wax,” she said. She waved the bar at him. “Mmm! Granola!”
He glanced at it. “Yuck. Lookit.” He stuck the wax over his eye. “Do I look like a one-eye?”
“Why don’t you put it in your ear?” said Bean. “Your mom will think your brains are dropping out.” That’s what Bean would do.
“No,” said Eric. “I’m a one-eye.”
“They’re called Cyclops,” said Ivy.
Bean turned to MacAdam. “How about a nice granola bar, MacAdam old buddy? I’ll trade for your wax.”
MacAdam shook his head. He held his red ball of cheese in front of his face and lookedat it. Then he bit it. Bean watched him chew wax and cheese. When he swallowed, she had to look away. What a waste of wax.
“Lookit,” said Marga-Lee. She had made a mustache out of her wax.
Bean took a sad bite of granola bar. It was going to be a long lunch.
+ + + + + +
After school, Ivy and Bean slumped home. “What a day,” said Ivy.
“Another day, another dollar,” said Bean.
“What does that mean?” asked Ivy.
“I don’t know,” Bean admitted. “My mom says it sometimes.”
“We don’t have a dollar,” Ivy pointed out.
“I know. Wish we did.”
“If we had a dollar, we could buy our own cheese balls.”
Bean shook her head. “No, we couldn’t. They cost more than a dollar.”
Ivy nodded. “Here’s what I don’t understand. Everyone else’s parents get them cheese. Why don’t ours?”
“We’ve got to keep trying,” said Bean. “Aren’t grown-ups always telling us we have to keep trying?”
Together, they trudged around the circle of Pancake Court until they got to Bean’s house.
“Hi, sweetie,” said Bean’s mom. “Hi, Ivy. How was school?”
“Fine,” said Bean. The real answer was too complicated. “What’s for snack?”
“Fruit!” said Bean’s mom. She always said that.
“Fruit,” repeated Bean. “We don’t want fruit. We want cheese.”
“I don’t want to hear about that cheese again,” said Bean’s mom. “Have some fruit.”
“Fruit tastes better with cheese,” said Ivy.
“Especially lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special
Bean looked around the lunch table. Vanessa had it. She got it every day. Zuzu had it. Emma had it. Marga-Lee had it. Dusit and Eric had it. Even MacAdam had it. Everyone had it except Bean and Ivy.
While Bean watched, Vanessa opened her lunchbox and took out a small red ball. It was a ball of cheese, but nobody cared about the cheese. The cheese was totally unimportant. The important thing was the coating around the cheese. It was wax.
The wax was red. It was smooth. If you pulled on the secret string inside it, the wax split into two halves. You unfolded them and took the cheese out. Sometimes you took a bite of cheese. Mostly, you didn’t. You rolled the wax between your hands until it was warm. Once it was warm, you could squish it. You could squish it and squish it. You could make it into a shape. You could put it on your face. You could hold it for the rest of the day, and it would get dirtier and dirtier, until finally it was a small brown lump. Then you could stick it in the middle of your table and say it was a booger.
“Lookit,” said Vanessa, rolling her wax. “I’m making a soccer ball.”
Maybe Mom surprised me, Bean thought. Maybe she sneaked a cheese ball in my lunch for a special surprise. She peeked in her lunchbox. Nope.
“Lookit,” said Zuzu. She had made a little wax horn. “I’m a unicorn.” She stuck it in the middle of her forehead.
Bean could grab the horn. She could grab it and run away with it and move to another country where she wouldn’t get in trouble. She sighed.
Ivy poked her with an elbow. “Pretend you don’t care,” she whispered.
“Check this out,” said Dusit. He stuck his wax underneath his nose so it looked like blood was dripping out. “Ms. Aruba-Tate’s going to freak.”
Bean turned to Eric, who was squishing hiswax flat. “Trade you my granola bar for your wax,” she said. She waved the bar at him. “Mmm! Granola!”
He glanced at it. “Yuck. Lookit.” He stuck the wax over his eye. “Do I look like a one-eye?”
“Why don’t you put it in your ear?” said Bean. “Your mom will think your brains are dropping out.” That’s what Bean would do.
“No,” said Eric. “I’m a one-eye.”
“They’re called Cyclops,” said Ivy.
Bean turned to MacAdam. “How about a nice granola bar, MacAdam old buddy? I’ll trade for your wax.”
MacAdam shook his head. He held his red ball of cheese in front of his face and lookedat it. Then he bit it. Bean watched him chew wax and cheese. When he swallowed, she had to look away. What a waste of wax.
“Lookit,” said Marga-Lee. She had made a mustache out of her wax.
Bean took a sad bite of granola bar. It was going to be a long lunch.
+ + + + + +
After school, Ivy and Bean slumped home. “What a day,” said Ivy.
“Another day, another dollar,” said Bean.
“What does that mean?” asked Ivy.
“I don’t know,” Bean admitted. “My mom says it sometimes.”
“We don’t have a dollar,” Ivy pointed out.
“I know. Wish we did.”
“If we had a dollar, we could buy our own cheese balls.”
Bean shook her head. “No, we couldn’t. They cost more than a dollar.”
Ivy nodded. “Here’s what I don’t understand. Everyone else’s parents get them cheese. Why don’t ours?”
“We’ve got to keep trying,” said Bean. “Aren’t grown-ups always telling us we have to keep trying?”
Together, they trudged around the circle of Pancake Court until they got to Bean’s house.
“Hi, sweetie,” said Bean’s mom. “Hi, Ivy. How was school?”
“Fine,” said Bean. The real answer was too complicated. “What’s for snack?”
“Fruit!” said Bean’s mom. She always said that.
“Fruit,” repeated Bean. “We don’t want fruit. We want cheese.”
“I don’t want to hear about that cheese again,” said Bean’s mom. “Have some fruit.”
“Fruit tastes better with cheese,” said Ivy.
“Especially lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special
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