Ivy and Bean No News Is Good News by Sophie Blackall Read Free Book Online Page A

just-for-you serving size,” said Bean. Lowfat Belldeloon cheese was the stuff inside the red wax.
    “Lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size costs five dollars for six little bitty pieces of cheese, so if you want it, you can pay for it yourself,” said Bean’s mom. She had said this several times before.
    “Cheese is good for you,” said Bean. She had said this before, too.
    “Cheese is not good for you when it costs five dollars for six little bitty pieces,” said Bean’s mom.
    “We’d eat more fruit if we had cheese to eat with it,” said Bean.
    “I love fruit and cheese together,” said Ivy.
    “There’s plenty of cheese in the fridge,” said Bean’s mom.
    “Not lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size,” Bean reminded her.
    “I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ONE MORE WORD ABOUT THAT CHEESE!” yelled Bean’s mom, stomping out of the kitchen.
    “She’s so touchy sometimes,” said Bean.
    Ivy lowered her voice. “She’d probably be in a better mood if she ate—” Ivy glanced at Bean and wiggled her eyebrows.
    “Lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size,” they whispered together.

A CHEESY SUGGESTION
    Really, Ivy and Bean didn’t want to hear one more word about cheese either. Words didn’t seem to be getting them anywhere. Ivy had tried whispering “Lowfat Belldeloon cheese in a special just-for-you serving size” in her mother’s ear in the middle of the night. Her mother was supposed to wake up in the morning wanting to buy cheese for Ivy. Instead, her mother woke up while Ivy was whispering and told her to get back to bed pronto.

    Bean put a sticky note in her mom’s book. In her best and tiniest handwriting, she wrote, “Belldeloon cheese is good!” and stuck it over some other words. She figured if her mom read about Belldeloon cheese in a book, she’d buy some for Bean. Instead, Bean’s mom told Bean to leave her books alone. It was tiring, trying to make parents do what they should.

    After they had eaten their fruit (boring) and some peanut butter (not as boring, but still) and a little bit of brown sugar (yum!), Bean and Ivy played Eraser Valley. Bean had 56 erasers in different shapes. Most of them were animals, like bears and pigs, but she alsohad foods, like french fries and toast. Sometimes Ivy and Bean set up shops and restaurants and schools in Eraser Valley, and life was good for all the happy erasers. But mostly, Eraser Valley was disaster central. There were tsunamis and there were tornadoes. There were avalanches, earthquakes, and plagues. Eraser Valley had been through it all.

    Bean and Ivy lined the erasers up and looked at them. What would befall Eraser Valley today?
    “We could sell them,” said Ivy.
    “Hey! They’re my erasers,” Bean said. She picked up a sushi and held it tight. “I like them. Not for sale.”
    “I thought you wanted wax,” Ivy said.
    “I do want wax.”
    “Then we need money,” Ivy argued. “We have to sell something.”
    “Nancy makes money babysitting,” Bean said. Nancy was Bean’s older sister. She was rich. “Do you think anyone would leave a baby with us?”

    Ivy made a face. “What if it cried?”
    Bean made a worse face. “What if it pooped?”
    “Yuck. Forget it. We’ve got to sell something.” Ivy was determined. “What’s it going to be?”
    Bean thought of a solution. “Let’s sell some of Nancy’s stuff.”
    “Isn’t that stealing?” asked Ivy.
    “Nah. Not really. Only a little.” Bean shrugged. “She won’t mind.”
    “Really?”
    Bean thought about the time she had borrowed one tiny spool of wire from Nancy’s bead kit. Which Nancy wasn’t even using and Bean had really needed. And which Bean would have given back, if Nancy hadn’t found it in Bean’s room first and completely freaked out. “Okay, maybe not.”
    “What can we sell?” Ivy asked. She picked up a toast eraser. “I bet we could get a quarter for