That reminded me of what I learned from my own history. One time, I promised Mom I would clean up after I made a collage in the kitchen. I make collages by cutting out pictures and words from magazines and gluing them onto cardboard. That time, I didn’t clean up. I’m not allowed to make collages at the kitchen table anymore. What if Mrs. Reese found out I didn’t clean up the clothes in the garage? Would she tell me I couldn’t play in there anymore?
Suddenly, I wished it were a school-morning kind of breakfast. Those breakfasts were quick. I needed to get to Mrs. Reese’s garage before she had a chance to check on it.
As soon as Mom and Dad sat down, I took my fork and speared a pancake off the serving platter. I smeared butter on top. I skipped the syrup.
“Ita-daki-masu,” I said. It was what we said in Japanese before we ate. It meant thank you for the meal.
I shoved a big bite of pancake into my mouth and asked, “Can I go to Mrs. Reese’s this morning?” But it sounded like “Dan I go to Mrtth. Reeth’s dis morning?”
“Ew,” Sophie said. “Say it, don’t spray it.”
“Jasmine,” Dad said. “Please swallow your food before you talk.”
I chewed superfast.
“Jasmine,” Mom said. “What is wrong with you?”
I chewed some more and swallowed. I took a big gulp of my orange juice. I coughed from drinking it too fast. Mom patted my back.
“Jasmine Toguchi,” Mom said. “Please slow down.”
“I want to get to Mrs. Reese’s garage.”
“Linnie is coming over for the sleepover,” Mom said. “Why don’t you wait until she arrives?”
I really didn’t want to wait, even though I was excited about Linnie coming. But maybe with Linnie’s help I could clean up the garage faster! That made me feel better.
“Sophie,” Mom said, “are your friends coming, too?”
Sophie shrugged. “I’m too old to do Girl’s Day.”
“What?” I said, forgetting to finish chewing. “What do you mean?”
Sophie and I always celebrated Girl’s Day with Mom. It was a tradition. Tradition means something you do regularly. Like when we get to open one present on Christmas Eve and all the rest on Christmas morning. Or when we make mochi, a Japanese sweet treat, with the entire family every New Year’s.
On Girl’s Day, Sophie and I dress up in kimonos and Mom takes pictures of us by the doll display. After a special snack, Mom, Sophie, and I usually do something fun together, just us girls. Last year, we went to the zoo and I got to see flamingos!
Sophie and I try to convince Mom to give us presents, too, but Mom always says, That’s not what Girl’s Day is about. Too bad.
“It’s our tradition,” I said to Sophie.
“I’m too old for dolls,” Sophie replied. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, something she had just started doing a lot.
“You know it’s not only about dolls, Sophie,” Mom said. “It’s about celebrating girls. I love celebrating with my daughters.”
Sophie shook her head. “I really don’t want to, Mom.”
Mom’s eyes looked sad, but Sophie didn’t seem to notice. I felt sad, too. Ever since Sophie started fifth grade, she had stopped playing with me. I thought at least on Girl’s Day she would be around.
WHAT A MESS
I didn’t have time to worry about that now, though, because I was too busy worrying about Mrs. Reese discovering the mess in her garage. Fortunately, Linnie came over soon after breakfast. The minute she walked in the door, I grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hall into my room.
“Whoa, I guess we’re both excited!” Linnie said.
She put her overnight bag on my bed and held on to a smaller purple bag with handles. Normally I would ask her what was in there. Normally I would be very curious. But right now was not a normally time.
“We have to go back to Mrs. Reese’s garage right now,” I said.
Linnie froze like we were playing statue tag. “Why?” she asked.
“We need to put everything back neatly. Then we can play more dress up and solve the mystery of Mrs. Reese’s boxes of clothes!” I hopped around the room, twice on my left foot, twice on my right, and then back to my left foot again. Dad said moving was a good way to get rid of nerves and energy.
Linnie frowned. “I thought we could do something else today. I brought my paper dolls,” she said. “We can make clothes for them.”
“We can do that after we clean up the garage. We both made the mess, so it’s fair that we both clean it up.”
Linnie looked down at my floor. “Okay. You’re right.”
“Yes!” I pumped my fist. “Let’s hurry!”
After I told Mom we were going to Mrs. Reese’s, I ran two houses over. Linnie walked. I dashed up Mrs. Reese’s driveway. Linnie was walking superslow and was far behind me. I scrambled over the gate.
The side door to the garage was open and the light was on. My feet seemed as heavy as stones suddenly. I crept up to the door, nibbling my lip as I peeked inside.
In the garage, Mrs. Reese shook out a wrinkled dress and smoothed it. Then she folded the dress just like she taught me when she first showed me all the boxes. She picked up a crunched straw hat. My heart felt crunched, too.
Walnuts! I was too late. Mrs. Reese would be angry with me. She would tell me I couldn’t play in here anymore. Maybe she would tell me I couldn’t have my secret thinking spot in her tree anymore either. My throat was tight, like it had something stuck in it. My eyes and nose tickled with tears.
“It wasn’t me!” I blurted out.
Mrs. Reese turned around. “Well, hello, Jasmine.” She didn’t look angry, but my eyes were blurry and I couldn’t see very well.
“I wanted to clean up yesterday, but my friend Linnie didn’t want to,” I said. “It’s her fault everything is a mess!”
“Jasmine!”
I turned around. Linnie stood behind me, her face full of surprise and hurt. My heart fluttered like a trapped butterfly. I had never seen Linnie’s face look like that before. Like I had slapped her.
“Girls,” Mrs. Reese said, “it’s okay. I’m just looking for a special hat for my daughter. Did you see a black hat with a peacock feather?”
I shook my head. “No, but we can help you find it.” If I helped Mrs. Reese, maybe she would forget I had broken her rule.
“That would be great,” Mrs. Reese said. “Do you have time right now to look with me?”
“No!” Linnie shouted, and ran away.
A LOT OF PROBLEMS
I told Mrs. Reese I would be right back, then I ran home.
I found Linnie in the living room. She was sitting on the couch, holding my favorite book, Charlotte’s Web. My bookmark was on the table. I could tell by the way she was holding the book open smack against her face that she wasn’t really reading. I didn’t need to be a detective to know Linnie was upset.
I shuffled my feet on the rug and tried to think of something to say. “Do you want to go back to Mrs. Reese’s? She doesn’t seem mad at us.”
Linnie turned a page. I hoped she wouldn’t lose my place.
“Do you want to make a collage?” I asked.
Linnie turned another page, even though she couldn’t possibly read that fast.
“Well, how about we make costumes for your paper dolls?” I knew Linnie wanted to do that.
Linnie kept pretending to read.
I sat down next to her. “You said you wanted to make doll costumes.”
She didn’t answer. My face got hot and my insides churned. “Linnie, talk to me!”
Finally, she put the book down. “You lied, Jasmine!” Linnie scrunched her hands into fists. “You told Mrs. Reese it was my fault that we didn’t clean up.”
“It wasn’t a lie,” I said. “You wanted to leave when my mom called for us!”
“It was your idea to throw everything in boxes,” she said, her voice squeaking.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Mr
s. Reese isn’t mad. We can go back and help her find that hat. And maybe we can find clues about her mysterious past.” I wiggled my eyebrows, hoping to make Linnie laugh. She didn’t.
“I don’t care about that,” Linnie said, crossing her arms.
“Well, I don’t care about your paper dolls!” I crossed my arms, too. My skin prickled.
Mom walked into the room. “Would you girls like a snack?” Obviously Mom didn’t have very good observation skills.
“Yes, please, Mrs. Toguchi,” Linnie said, uncrossing her arms.
In the kitchen, Mom gave us plates of cookies and sat down with us. “We’re so happy you’re here for Girl’s Day, Linnie.”
“Actually, I need to go home,” Linnie said, not looking up.
The air whooshed out of me.
“Now?” Mom sounded surprised. “Aren’t you sleeping over so we can celebrate Girl’s Day tomorrow?”
Linnie looked at me. I looked at my uneaten chocolate chip cookie. Mom made a small sound, like she was trying to figure things out.
“Did Jasmine upset you?” Mom asked.
After a long moment, Linnie said, “Yes. She hurt my feelings.” Linnie picked at her cookie. “She told Mrs. Reese it was my fault that the clothes weren’t put away right.”
Linnie was snitching on me! She was not a good friend at all.
“Jasmine Toguchi, go to your room,” Mom said. “Linnie, if you really want to go home, I will take you.”
“I really do,” she said in a small voice.
* * *
Linnie did not say goodbye. I did not say goodbye. I went straight to my room.
I paced and paced. One bad thing about having the smallest room in the house (except for the bathroom) was that it was hard to pace. I circled around and around. Pacing helped me think when I couldn’t climb my thinking tree. Just like hopping helped me get my energy out.
Linnie was mad at me, but I was mad at her, too! Who needed her? Not me! I could do things without her, like figure out if Mrs. Reese was a spy. Ms. Sanchez said I had good observation skills. I was the great detective. I would solve the mystery all by myself!
I peeked out the window. Mom’s car wasn’t back yet. I could go to Mrs. Reese’s right now before Mom got back. I opened my door. Sophie sat in the hall.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sophie asked.
“Mrs. Reese’s garage,” I said.
“I don’t know why you like playing in there. That garage is super-creepy,” Sophie said.
I shrugged. Sophie slept with a night-light because she was afraid of the dark. It didn’t surprise me she didn’t want to play in Mrs. Reese’s garage. Not that she would play with me anyway.
“Mom told me to make sure you stayed in the house until she got back,” Sophie said.
I sucked on my lip. Before Sophie started fifth grade, she would have been on my side and I could have snuck away. But not anymore. I missed the old Sophie. “Why won’t you celebrate Girl’s Day tomorrow?” I asked.
“Already told you. It’s for kids,” she said.
“No. Mom said all girls celebrate it in Japan. Daughters with their mothers and grandmothers,” I said.
A car door slammed. Mom was home! I slipped back into my room and shut the door. When Dad closed the door to his office, it meant not to disturb him. Maybe if I kept my door closed, Mom wouldn’t disturb me.
No such luck.
Mom knocked on my door and opened it. “I spoke to Mrs. Reese,” Mom said, stepping into my room. “Fortunately for you, she isn’t upset about the mess you left. Unfortunately, you hurt Linnie’s feelings and she is really upset.”
“Is she coming back?” I asked, sitting on my bed.
“I’m afraid not.” Mom saw Linnie’s overnight bag on my bed. “Oh, dear. Linnie forgot her stuff.”
I didn’t say anything.
Mom leaned against my door. “I’m not sure we should celebrate Girl’s Day at this point. Between Sophie not wanting to participate and you not being a good friend, I’m disappointed.”
I slid off the bed and onto the floor, like a leaf falling from a tree. I wished I could drift away.
“Go back to Mrs. Reese’s and clean up your mess,” Mom said. “Do not play dress up. Come straight home when you’re done. Got it?”
“Got it,” I whispered.
I had a lot of problems. Mom was angry with me for upsetting Linnie. I was mad at Linnie for saying it wasn’t her fault when it was at least partly her fault. I wanted to help Mrs. Reese find that hat to make up for leaving a mess. Linnie wasn’t coming back over. Sophie didn’t want to celebrate Girl’s Day. And now Mom might not want to either. Everything was getting ruined!
SLEUTHING FOR CLUES
The garage was dark and empty when I got there. I turned on the light and looked in the drawers and boxes. All the clothes were folded and put away neatly. My stomach twisted like I’d eaten some disgusting nuts.
I went to the back door and knocked. When Mrs. Reese answered, she smiled at me.
“Welcome back, Jasmine,” she said, letting me into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry for not cleaning up,” I said. It was very hard to say sorry. It was the same as saying, I messed up. I did not like to mess up.
Mrs. Reese smiled. “It’s okay, Jasmine. I understand that sometimes you run out of time.”
At least Mrs. Reese wasn’t angry. I took a big breath. “I was supposed to help you put everything away,” I said.
“I finished,” Mrs. Reese said, sitting down at her kitchen table. “But you can help me find that peacock hat.”
“I’ll look for it right now!” I said. Finally, something I could do to help.
“Where is your friend?” Mrs. Reese asked.
“She went home.” I frowned. “We’re not friends anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Reese said. “Good friends are important. I hope you two will make up very soon.”
I didn’t know how that would happen, since Linnie wasn’t sleeping over anymore. But maybe if I solved the mystery, I would have something to share with Linnie. Maybe then she wouldn’t stay mad at me.
I knew from movies and books that a real spy wouldn’t tell the truth about what she did. So asking Mrs. Reese wasn’t going to work. I was going to have to become a super sleuth.
“I will find that hat for you all by myself,” I said.
“Thank you.” Mrs. Reese smiled.
Back in the garage, I put my hands on my hips. The hat wouldn’t be in the boxes Linnie and I had opened. I have a good memory, and I hadn’t seen a black hat with a peacock feather yesterday. I went over to the boxes I hadn’t opened yet.
The first one was full of clothes, but no hats. I closed that box and moved on to the next one. Instead of clothes, there were stacks of folders. I almost closed that box, too, when I remembered I was also looking for clues. These might be evidence!
In one of the folders was a stack of papers with neat handwriting. I read out loud, “Three pairs of white gloves. Leather coat. Black bow tie. Sixteen aprons.” On every sheet of paper was a list of clothes. Could these be Mrs. Reese’s shopping lists for her disguises? Why would she need so many aprons?
Under that folder was a stack of colorful flyers. They looked like movie posters, but not for any movies I’d ever heard of. Annie Get Your Gun. That sounded dangerous! Fiddler on the Roof. That sounded like fun. I would love to climb up on a roof, but Mom would probably get mad if I did. Oklahoma! That was a state, like California.
What did these mean? Were they messages? Or scrap paper? Or maybe titles of books? I wished Linnie were here to help me figure it out. I put the papers back in the box.
I reached into a third box. Something tickled my hand. I pulled out a hat with a feather. Wowee zowee! I’d found it! I grinned and did a little hopping dance.
I ran back into Mrs. Reese’s house.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” I asked.
Mrs. Reese smiled. �
��It is! Thank you, Jasmine! My daughter will be very happy.”
I was glad Mrs. Reese and I were still friends. Now if only I could be friends with Linnie again.
“I hear you’re having a celebration tomorrow,” Mrs. Reese said, taking the peacock hat from me.
“Yes,” I said. “Well, maybe.”
“Maybe?” she asked.
“Tomorrow is Girl’s Day, but right now Sophie doesn’t want to celebrate, and Linnie is upset with me, and Mom is disappointed. So we might not celebrate at all,” I said.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Reese said. “It sounds like such a wonderful holiday, to celebrate girls. I wish I had something like that with my daughter when she was growing up.”
I nodded.
“I hope you get to celebrate after all, Jasmine,” Mrs. Reese said.
I hoped so, too, but I didn’t have a good feeling about it. I needed to talk with Linnie or it would not be a good Girl’s Day. Not at all.
A DISCOVERY
When I got home, I grabbed the phone and went to my room. I decided to call Linnie before I chickened out. Her phone rang. One time. Two times. Three times. Maybe she wasn’t home.
On the fourth ring, someone picked up.
“Hello?” Linnie’s voice was so quiet I had to press the phone hard against my ear to hear her.
“Hi,” I said. “It’s me. Jasmine.”
Silence. Maybe she hadn’t heard me. I spoke louder. “Hi, Linnie!”
Nothing. I gripped the phone. “Guess what?” I said. “I found some clues in Mrs. Reese’s garage! I think she really was a spy!”
Linnie still didn’t say anything, but I could hear her breathing. “Don’t you want to know about the clues I found?”
“I am not talking to you, Jasmine Toguchi,” she finally said. “I am really mad at you!”
Jasmine Toguchi, Super Sleuth Page 2