Iva Honeysuckle Meets Her Match

by Candice Ransom

  In the back of her brain, Iva had stored explorers’ tricks she’d learned from her old National Geographic magazines. She pulled out the one for seeing long-distance when you didn’t have binoculars.

  She made a tight circle of her index finger and held it up to her right eye. Squinting through it, she scanned each person on the beach. Red-haired woman, kid with a face like a pie pan, man with a big potbelly…

  And there, bent over by the stone jetty, was a little girl in a bright blue satin two-piece bathing suit. The end of the girl’s long blond ponytail was wet.

  “I see her!” she cried. She had made her greatest discovery: her lost sister.

  Heaven thudded down the wooden planks. “Where? Where is she?”

  “Follow me!” Iva leaped off the railing and headed for the jetty at a dead run.

  Lily Pearl stood knee-deep in the water, scooping sand and shells into Howard’s bucket. When she spotted Iva, she dropped the bucket and burst into tears.

  “Don’t tell on me,” she begged.

  Iva hugged Lily Pearl first; then Heaven hugged her, and then Iva hugged her again.

  “Lily Pearl,” Iva said. “We’ve been looking all over for you! Don’t you know how worried we’ve all been?”

  Lily Pearl sobbed, “I was trying to find one of those shells with a pearl inside! So I could make a bride necklace.”

  Heaven elbowed Iva. “You were right! She was looking for oysters.”

  Iva knelt down and took her sister by the shoulders. “Lily Pearl, you shouldn’t have run off.”

  “But I want a bride necklace!” Lily Pearl stuck the fingers of one hand in her mouth.

  Iva pulled her sister’s hand out of her mouth. “Listen, I’ll buy you the pearl necklace we saw in the shop.”

  “You said that before!”

  “This time, cross my heart and hope to die.” Iva sketched an imaginary cross over her chest.

  “Really?” Lily Pearl slipped her spitty hand in Iva’s. “I didn’t mean it when I said you weren’t my favorite sister.”

  Iva figured Lily Pearl would change her mind again when she found out Iva hadn’t robbed a bank or discovered buried treasure in the last thirty minutes. Where would she get the money? She owed everyone but Howard’s hermit crab. But she had to buy Lily Pearl that necklace. Period.

  “I’ve got enough to buy it,” Heaven said, as if reading Iva’s mind.

  “Did I hear right? You’re actually going to let me have nineteen dollars?” Iva said in disbelief.

  “I have to charge interest. But I’ll give you a family discount,” Heaven added generously.

  “How much interest?”

  “Fifteen percent.”

  “Fifteen percent of nineteen dollars is…” Iva tried to work out the math in her head, but the small corner of her brain that was assigned to numbers came up empty.

  “Two dollars and eighty-five cents,” said Heaven. She obviously stored numbers in the front of her brain. “After you get the necklace, I’ll still have enough to treat London to the arcade tonight.”

  So Heaven hadn’t noticed the other girl with London. Maybe Iva had imagined it. She wished someone would treat her to the arcade, but she was grateful her cousin was bailing her out.

  “You’re always loaded with cash,” Iva said. “Are you a bank or something?”

  “Yes.” Heaven grinned. “The National Bank of Heaven.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Captain Iva Honeysuckle Smith

  “Can I have another cocktail, please?” Iva drained her glass, and the ice clacked against her teeth. Then she popped the sweet red cherry she had saved for last into her mouth.

  From across the table, Heaven watched Iva as she sipped her Coke. Iva was the only one drinking a Shirley Temple.

  “Don’t fill up on drinks,” Iva’s mother told Iva. “You ordered a big dinner.”

  The Honeycutts had taken over the largest outdoor table at the Crab Shack, right next to the boardwalk. Iva’s mother had invited Mr. Reed Smith to join them.

  But Iva was the star. She felt as famous as Captain John Smith.

  The best part of dinner at the Crab Shack wasn’t being the hero for finding Lily Pearl. No, the best part was sitting next to Mr. Smith. It was even worth taking a shower and washing her hair.

  The waiter handed Iva a second pink bubbly drink. She gave the little paper umbrella to Lily Pearl.

  Lily Pearl twirled it over Howard’s head. The pearl on her silver chain gleamed in the lamplight. “I now pronounce us wife and husband!”

  Iva felt fizzy with questions. “What were you doing when we came into your room today?” she asked Mr. Smith.

  “I was trying to blend in with the rug,” he said. “Kind of an experiment.”

  “You didn’t seem very surprised to see us,” said Heaven.

  “Iva’s been in my room before, haven’t you?” he asked her. “I noticed my camera had been moved. You seem to be the nosiest, so I figured it was you.”

  Iva didn’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. She made a note to cover her tracks better when she snuck around in the future.

  “You’re an explorer-spy,” she said. “I found a paper in your garbage can with stuff about not being seen and following your route at night. It’s okay, you can tell me. We have almost the same job.”

  Mr. Smith laughed. “I volunteer for the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries. I’m working on the Toad and Frog Calling Survey.”

  “You call frogs?” Arden asked.

  “No,” he said. “I listen to them. Every year I spend a few weeks listening for different species of frogs and toads. This time I was assigned a route in the marshes around Stingray Point. I go out at night and record the types of frogs and toads I hear call. The survey helps us keep track of different species, in case they change habitats.”

  “We hear peepers in the spring,” said Aunt Sissy Two, “but we don’t know about other frogs.”

  “There are twenty-seven species of frogs and toads in Virginia,” Mr. Smith stated. “My specialty is the Fowler’s toad. When you approach them, they become motionless and blend in with their backgrounds.”

  “Your experiment!” Iva cried. “You were being a Fowler’s toad!”

  “You should hear a Fowler’s toad. Sounds like a human scream—very eerie at night. People have been known to call the police, thinking a person’s in trouble.”

  No little toad could have made the racket Iva had heard on Mr. Smith’s CD player.

  Nudging him, she said quietly, “I’ve seen her, too.”

  “Seen who?”

  “You know.” Iva tried to wink, but she hadn’t yet mastered that talent. Instead, she blinked both eyes, like a bullfrog.

  Just then, the waiter brought their dinners. Iva had ordered fried scallops after Mr. Smith assured her that scallops were like stingrays, only tastier. After one bite, Iva decided that when she grew up she would dine only on fried scallops and Critch Jackson’s barbecued chicken and drink only Shirley Temples.

  Iva saw London approaching them. She kicked Heaven’s shin under the table. “Your friend’s here.”

  Heaven’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and she jumped up from her chair.

  London wasn’t alone. Another girl was with her. The one from the boat.

  “Hey!” Heaven said, pathetically eager. “Want to go to the arcade? My treat.”

  “No, thanks.” London looked at Heaven like she was a cafeteria monitor. “Delia and I are going to hang out. We met on the boat.”

  Heaven’s eagerness slid from her face like a mud pie off a plate as she watched London and Delia leave, laughing like best friends.

  “She didn’t even say good-bye,” Heaven said in a small voice. Iva felt bad for her.

  When the chocolate pecan pie arrived, piled high with whipped cream, Iva’s mother declared that they needed a family picture.

  “But I haven’t been able to find my camera in days,” she said. “I c
an’t imagine where it went.”

  Iva couldn’t stand it any longer. The guilt of losing her mother’s camera was a monstrous weight. It would loom over Iva every waking minute. She had to confess. No punishment would be any worse than living in constant fear.

  But she’d have to tell her mother the whole truth. It would get ugly, but she’d have to do it. She ate a bite of her chocolate pecan pie, the last dessert she’d probably have for the next fifty years.

  “Mama—” she began.

  “Aunt Sissy,” Heaven broke in, “I took your camera.”

  Iva’s fork clattered on her plate.

  “What?” said Iva’s mother and Iva at the same time.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Sissy,” Heaven barreled on. “I should have asked to borrow it. But I saw a baby seagull and I wanted a picture of it. I took your camera from your bag.”

  “Heaven!” said Aunt Sissy Two. “You know better!”

  Iva’s mother asked, “Where is my camera now?”

  “It’s gone,” Heaven replied. She didn’t blink, Iva noticed, a sure sign of telling a lie. “When I went up to the baby seagull, its mother saw me and got mad. She took the camera right out of my hands and flew off! I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault.”

  “Seagulls do protect their young,” said Mr. Smith. “But that’s quite a story.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Iva’s mother leaned back, her expression skeptical.

  Iva admired Heaven’s creative lie, but she couldn’t understand why her cousin was taking the fall for her.

  “Heaven, you’ll have to pay for Aunt Sissy’s camera,” said Aunt Sissy Two.

  Heaven picked at the tablecloth. “I don’t have any money. Aunt Sissy, are you going to send me to jail?”

  “No,” said Aunt Sissy. “I’m sending you to the garden. You’ll work off the cost of the camera by pulling weeds and picking vegetables.”

  “Want some company?” Iva heard herself blurt. She hated working in the hot, buggy garden and would almost rather have gone to jail. But she couldn’t let Heaven take the whole punishment.

  Heaven flashed her Sunday-school smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  Iva finished her pie, wondering why Heaven had stuck her neck out for her. Was it possible she and Heaven were getting along again? Or did Heaven just want something?

  “Let’s walk on the beach one last time,” Arden suggested.

  “Good idea,” said Aunt Sissy Two. “We can use the exercise after that dinner.”

  Mr. Smith had to leave for his frog-and-toad route. He shook Iva’s hand and wished her luck. Iva had already figured she’d have to make her own luck.

  On the beach, they all took off their shoes. The damp sand felt cool on Iva’s bare feet as she walked along the water’s edge. A full moon ducked behind a hazy cloud.

  The others lagged behind with Aunt Sissy Two and Iva’s mother, but Iva skipped ahead to the dock. She ran out to the end and leaned over the rail.

  The water was as dark as the night. The only lights were from some far-off boats.

  Waves shhh-shhushed against the piers. Iva heard something else, too. A soft splash, like a giant paddle hitting the water.

  She strained to see in the inky blackness. Something rose from the water, big enough to block out the lights from the distant boats. Iva sensed the presence of a long, smooth neck and a small head, turned toward her. Then it slid back into the water without a ripple.

  Iva whispered, “Bye!”

  Iva sat squished in the backseat of her mother’s car. Wedged between her and Heaven was a large box containing Heaven’s daisy-embroidered sheets, Iva’s National Geographic magazines, her discovery shorts and discovery journal that she never used, the seashell-covered trinket box Heaven had bought for Miz Compton, Howard’s jar of sand from the sand hole he’d dug, and Lily Pearl’s enormous collection of dull seashells.

  “I need more room.” Heaven began complaining before they were out of the driveway of the beach house. “Iva, move over.”

  “I can barely breathe now,” Iva said. “You’re bigger than when we came. You know what they say: vacations are broadening.”

  “I haven’t gained an ounce,” Heaven said huffily.

  Arden, who sat in the front seat, asked her mother, “How come I can’t ride in Aunt Sissy Two’s car with Hunter?”

  “Don’t worry. I doubt we’ll get five miles before we have to stop and change kids.” Mrs. Honeycutt turned the car left onto Bayview Avenue, heading home.

  At the risk of damaging a kidney, Iva twisted around to wave out the back windshield. “Bye, Chesapeake Bay! Bye, Heron’s Rest!”

  “Herons were the only things that could rest in that house,” Iva’s mother said. “Vacations are exhausting.”

  “Mama, do you think my legs are my best feature?” Arden asked.

  “Arden, I’m driving.”

  Arden turned to Iva. “Are my legs good? Tell me the truth.”

  Iva didn’t know how to answer this. “Well…they do a good job of holding you up. But your knees are square.”

  “My knees are not square! Oh! They are, kind of. Mama, I have square knees! I’ll never get a boyfriend.”

  Iva leaned back. They had only been at Stingray Point for five days. But everybody had been different while they were there.

  Arden and Hunter had become boy-crazy. Lily Pearl had gone pearl-crazy. Howard wouldn’t leave his hole. Boring old Heaven had become adventurous! Would everyone go back to their regular selves once they got home?

  Iva decided she was a little bit broader, too. Not in shape, but she had learned to stand on top of something high and get a wider view of the world, and then see people one at a time, as if through an index-finger peephole.

  She still didn’t know why Heaven had taken the blame for the camera. Maybe she’d felt sorry for Iva. Or maybe they had more in common than just being family. When they got home, Iva would find out the truth.

  Heaven rooted through the box between them, pulling out a tablet and pencil. She propped the tablet on her lap and flipped to the first page.

  “You’re not making more Daily Life cards, are you?” Iva asked.

  “No, I’m making you a payment booklet.”

  “A what?”

  “For your loan. Like Daddy has for his truck,” Heaven explained. “He mails a ticket when he makes his truck payment.”

  She printed The National Bank of Heaven across the top. “I’m making ten tickets. You should be able to pay me back nineteen dollars plus interest in ten payments.”

  Clearly, Heaven was already back to her regular self.

  Iva ran her tongue over her front teeth. Her mother had made her take a shower and wash her hair. But Iva still hadn’t brushed her teeth. Not for five glorious days.

  “Hey.”

  Heaven looked up from making Iva’s payment booklet.

  Iva flashed a big smile, revealing her grossly coated teeth.

  “Ew!” Heaven squealed. “Aunt Sissy! Iva hasn’t brushed her teeth in forever! They’re green!”

  “Iva…” her mother said in a tone that indicated it would be a very long drive home.

  Iva settled back again. Captain John Smith probably hadn’t brushed his teeth when he was exploring that river with two p’s and two n’s. If it was good enough for him, it was good enough for her, Captain Iva Honeysuckle Smith.

  “And don’t you go blowing your rotten breath all over me, either,” Heaven snorted.

  Iva grinned to herself. Some things never changed.

 

 

 
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