Zinnia's Zaniness by Lauren Baratz-Logsted Read Free Book Online Page A

third, the Petes a fourth, and Zinnia struggled with one on her own, which was not easy to do with Call on one shoulder.
    Poor Zinnia was struggling because one of us had yet to show up.
    "Petal," Pete called into the house, "I'd hate to do anything to upset you, and I certainly wouldn't want to do anything to cause you to faint right now, but just what is taking you so long?"
    We waited. And waited. And waited.
    At last, at long last, Petal appeared.
    Well, we assumed it was Petal inside and under all of that, but it was just an assumption.

    "Petal?" Pete asked. "Is that you in there? And if so, what are you wearing?"
    "I have on SPF one hundred plus zinc oxide on my nose," Petal said. "I have a floppy hat on my head, but I've also put sunscreen on the part in my hair and all around my ears, just in case. I am wearing a bathing suit from the early part of the nineteen hundreds, for modesty's sake; a towel wrapped around that; and a full-length terry-cloth robe over that. On my feet I have flip-flops, but I put my bunny slippers over those because the flip-flops don't give enough coverage. Oh, and I have on big dark sunglasses with the strongest UVF protection available."
    "I have only one question," Pete said. "Why?"
    "Because I don't want to burn, do I," Petal said. "You're not going to catch me exposing an inch of skin to the Seaside sun—not one inch! The Seaside sun, as everyone knows, is a very dangerous thing."
    "You look like a mummy," Georgia said. "And your cat—poor Precious. Can Precious really breathe all wrapped up like that?"

    "I knew it," Rebecca said. "I knew it!" She groaned. "This is going to be yet another of those vacations where everyone who sees us thinks we're all out of our tiny little minds, isn't it?"
    ***
    We settled ourselves on towels under our respective beach umbrellas, all except for Zinnia, who sat up and talked to Call.
    Well, of course she did.
    "Are there really eight Other Eights," Zinnia asked Call, "and where are they from?"
    We had no idea why Zinnia would assume that Call knew a thing about the Other Eights. More crazy talk as far as we were concerned.
    "Are they from Pittsburgh?" Zinnia persisted. "Vietnam? Spain? I'm almost certain they can't be from France. If they were, they'd have been at the wedding of Aunt Martha and Uncle George."
    "Ask Call if they're from England, like Annie's faux-Daddy accent," Rebecca suggested.
    "Ha! Ha!" Georgia said.
    "You shouldn't mock Zinnia like that," Jackie said. "She can't help being the way she is. It's just too much for one person: all of the stress of being the only Eight to have to get her power and gift in the same month we all have our eighth birthday and after which we're supposed to discover how Mommy and Daddy disappeared."
    "Or died," Rebecca put in.
    "It's just too much stress for one Eight," Jackie stressed again, ignoring Rebecca. "No wonder Zinnia feels the need to acquire pigeon pets and pretend she can talk to those same pigeon pets."
    "I heard that, Jackie," Zinnia said. Shockingly, her voice lacked a tone of offense as she added, "And it's not a pigeon pet. I keep telling you, it's a pigeon friend."
    "I'm sorry," Jackie said.
    "That's okay," Zinnia said.
    "Why be sorry?" Georgia said. "And why is it okay? All any of this is is more crazy talk!"
    "Has anyone else noticed," Jackie said, "that whenever we're all together, which is pretty much every minute of our waking lives, all we do is make fun of one another?"
    "Oh, come on, Jackie," Durinda said. "We do support each other sometimes. It's not that bad."
    Jackie thought about this for a moment.
    "Yes," she finally said. "I really do think it is that bad." Then she grew excited. "I know!" she said. "I propose we spend a half an hour—no, a full hour—during which all we say is kind things about one another. Anyone else game?"
    We didn't know if we were game, not exactly. But those waves in the ocean looked very choppy. So, sure. We were willing to play along.
    "Okay,"