Alex heard the relief in her friend’s voice. “Hey,
what’s a BFF for? I’ll call Charlotte to see if she
can help, too.” She hung up and hurried to get
her stage makeup kit. Alex’s face-painting
skills were legendary in the neighborhood. In
fact, they made her the most popular babysitter
around. Fitting costumes, however, would be a
bigger challenge.
“Abbie, can I borrow your sewing kit?”
“Why?” asked Abbie, giving her sister a puzzled look. “You can’t sew.”
When she heard about Brooklyn’s distress call, Abbie tossed aside her
design sketchbook. “I’ll come with you,” she said. “Clearly, you are going to
need my expertise.”
Alex grinned. This was one time when Abbie’s bossiness would come in
handy. When they reached the elementary school, they found Brooklyn and
Charlotte backstage, frantically trying to organize dozens of excited young
actors. They were all practicing their songs at the tops of their lungs, shouting
to be heard, or chasing one another around the makeshift dressing room.
“I’ve never been so glad to see anybody in my life!” said Brooklyn, hug-
ging them both.
It took Abbie less than five minutes to get the kids under control. Then,
while Charlotte helped her wrestle actors into costumes and make last-
minute hem and sleeve adjustments, Alex used her artistic flair to transform
first graders into fairies, goblins, and other mythical creatures. Brooklyn’s
siblings were playing dragons, so Alex painted their faces bright green with
silver scales.
“Cool!” said Riley, admiring the effect in the mirror.
“Awesome!” Frankie agreed.
As a finishing touch, Alex grabbed a bottle of baby shampoo she kept in
her makeup kit to remove extra face paint. She twisted sections of the twins’
hair into points, then rubbed each with a bit of shampoo. It dried fast and held
the spiked shapes. “Ta-da!” she said. “Dragon horns!”
“Five minutes till showtime!” a voice shouted from the other side of the
curtain.
While the first graders took their places onstage, the girls slipped into
empty seats in the third row and waited eagerly for the curtain to open.
Half an hour later, Frankie and Riley took their last bow. “Bravo! You were
great!” the girls exclaimed when the twins joined them. The young dragons
beamed with pride.
“The tech crew deserves a standing ovation, too,” said Brooklyn’s dad.
“You girls worked some real magic backstage. Why don’t you join us for din-
ner to celebrate?”
That evening, the girls all gathered in the Patricks’ kitchen. Alex and
Abbie set the table, while Charlotte and Brooklyn helped Mr. Patrick make a
gourmet salad with green and red lettuces, toasted nuts, and one of the last
apples from Whitmore Farm. Mouthwatering aromas of what Mr. Patrick
called his “world-famous, top-secret-recipe chili and corn bread” filled the air.
Frankie and Riley, still in costume, were reenacting their favorite scenes from
the play.
“I’m starving!” said Frankie.
“No dragons at the table,” said
Ms. Patrick. She glanced at the clock.
“You’ve got just enough time to shower
before the corn bread is ready.”
“Can’t we just wash our faces?”
asked Riley.
“You heard your mother,” said Mr.
Patrick. “No dragons at dinner.”
The twins raced upstairs and soon
the sound of running water could be
heard overhead. A few minutes later,
they charged into the kitchen, their
cheeks rosy pink instead of acid green
under their spiky hair.
“Now can we eat?” asked Riley.
“We’re all clean!”
“No you’re not,” said Brooklyn,
while her friends stifled their laughter.
“But we showered and every-
thing!” said Frankie. “Honest!”
“Nice try,” said Ms. Patrick, rais-
ing an eyebrow. “But you’d better go
upstairs and try again, dragons!”
How did Ms. Patrick know the
twins hadn’t taken showers?
What Goes
Bump in the Night
“G-Pa?” shouted Alex, knocking loudly. “Gran? We’re here!”
“I’ll bet they’re upstairs,” said Ms. DeRose, following her daughter into
the mudroom, arms filled with Thanksgiving bags and bundles. “Here, use
my key.” She shifted the load to one arm to pull her key ring out of her coat
pocket.
Alex put the sack of yams she was carrying on the mudroom table and
took the keys from her mom. She unlocked the door and bounded into the
kitchen, followed by Abbie and her mom and dad.
Thanksgiving was Alex’s favorite time to visit her grandparents. She loved
their historic farmhouse and the fact that it had been in the family for three
generations. It even had its own ghost, according to G-Pa.
Alex and Abbie dashed upstairs and found G-Pa and Gran in the attic,
getting the holiday dishes out of storage. The girls hugged them hello, then
helped carry the decorative platters and bowls downstairs. Soon the family
was chatting happily and preparing for the feast. Abbie snapped green beans.
Mom washed cranberries. Dad basted the turkey. G-Pa found the beaters