“Yeah,” I say. “I guess we do.”
“And I don’t want to change Jack and the Beanstalk,” he says. “It’s perfect as it is!”
Ah. Now I get it.
“Aww, Jonah, things usually turn out just fine,” I soothe him. “Even better, actually!”
He kicks a piece of hay with his foot. “You saw what happened at soccer today. I messed up. I mess up everything lately. And I don’t want to mess up Jack.” He puts his head down on his knees.
“You do not mess everything up,” I say. “It was just one game! And, well, we ARE already here,” I point out. “And maybe we could be super careful? See how it goes? We don’t want to just hide in the barn. And I know you’ll regret not meeting Jack. You really will.”
He bites his lower lip. “Yeah. I probably would.”
“You definitely would. C’mon, stand up.” I take his hands and pull him to his feet.
“We have to be SUPER careful,” Jonah says. “’Kay? I don’t want to do anything wrong. Jack is … is … my hero.”
“Really?” I say. That seems a little extreme.
Jonah nods. “Yes. He is. He’s so brave. And a good climber. And he’s not scared of anything! He’s like the big brother I’ve always wanted.”
I bristle. “Big brother? A big sister isn’t good enough?” I’m definitely brave. And if I do say so myself, I’ve gotten to be a pretty good climber thanks to all the fairy tales we’ve visited. I don’t exactly love heights, but I climbed up Rapunzel’s braid without too much of a problem. (Jonah’s the one who messed up her hair.)
Jonah flushes. “A sister is good, too! You know what I mean.”
I don’t really, but I don’t want to argue with Jonah now. “So should we go say hi?” I ask.
“Yes!”
After all this, we better really be in Jack’s story. There better not be a Jill hanging around here somewhere, ready to fetch a pail of water and roll down a hill.
Jonah slides open the barn door, and Prince follows us outside.
It has started to drizzle, so I put my hood on. Jonah does the same. See, I knew hoodies were a good idea.
We walk over to the woman. “Um, hello?” I say.
She practically jumps at the sound of my voice. “Hullo there,” she says. “You surprised me. We don’t get many visitors this far from town.” She has an accent that makes her sound kind of like Mary Poppins. British.
Moooo, the cow says, swishing her tail. Prince barks at the cow in a friendly way.
“I’m Abby, and this is my brother, Jonah,” I say. “That’s our dog, Prince.”
“I’m called Ada,” the woman says. “And this is Princess Milka.” She pats the cow’s side. “Are you friends of Jack’s?” Ada asks us.
Jonah and I turn to each other, our eyes wide. Jonah is jumping on his toes.
“Yes,” Jonah says. “Well, kind of. He doesn’t know us. We’re just visiting.”
“Visiting Tradetown?” the woman scoffs. “Not much to see here besides a few shops and the market.”
The drizzle gets harder. Raindrops land on my nose and hands.
“Why don’t you kids come in out of the rain?” Ada suggests. “You’re going to get your clothes all wet. Jack should be home soon, and you can stay for lunch.”
She is inviting us in! Jack’s mother is inviting us in! This is it! I’ve never seen Jonah grin so big, not even when he gets extra ketchup with his French fries at the diner.
After Ada returns Princess Milka to the barn, she leads us inside the house. It’s very spare. There are four rickety chairs around a peeling wood table, an ancient-looking sofa, and a fireplace. Prince curls up on the patchy rug to take a nap. That dog can sleep anywhere.
“I’ll be making the pottage now,” Ada says. “It’s not much, but it’s hot and filling nonetheless. You two make yourselves at home and warm your bones by the fire.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking off my damp hoodie. I turn to Jonah. “Any idea what pottage is?”
He shrugs and takes off his hoodie, too. “Something cooked in a pot?”
“Helpful,” I say. I lay our hoodies near the fire to dry. Then we sit cross-legged on the rug next to where Prince is sleeping.
I spot a clock on the wall. It’s 1:10 P.M. And we’ve been here for … a little over an hour already? So it was 12:00 P.M. when we arrived here. And my watch says it’s 12:10 A.M. at home. So that means … well, I don’t know what it means! I’ll have to check the time again later.
“I wonder where Jack is,” Jonah says impatiently, rubbing his hands together.
“Me too,” I say. “In the version of the story I remember, I think he’s just home with his mom all the time.”
“Is that the version with the fairy?” Jonah asks.
I tilt my head. Fairy? There’s no fairy in Jack and the Beanstalk.
“The version I know doesn’t have a fairy,” I say.
Jonah smiles. “The version I know does!” he says.
“Really? Tell it to me,” I say.
This is a first. I’m always the one telling my brother the stories. But Jonah is kind of an expert on Jack and the Beanstalk.
He clears his throat and sits up straight. He looks quite proud. “Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack. He and his mom lived in a little house in the countryside. They were very poor. All they had for money was a cow whose milk they sold at the market.”
“Princess Milka!” I say.
Jonah nods. “So one day,” he continues, “the mom realizes that the cow isn’t giving milk anymore. No milk means they don’t have anything to sell at the market for money.”
Right. That’s where we are in the story. We haven’t messed anything up yet. Yay, us.
“So what do they do?” I ask.
Jonah furrows his brow and thinks. And thinks. A full minute passes.
“Oh, yeah, I remember the order now,” he says. “The mom tells Jack to bring the cow to the market and sell it. So Jack starts the long walk to the market with the cow. On the way, a man stops Jack and says he’ll trade Jack magic beans for the cow. Jack loves magic. So he says yes to the trade.”
I wonder if I would have done the same thing in that situation. I mean, magic beans? Who can resist?
“But when Jack gets home with the beans, all excited,” Jonah goes on, “his mom is so mad that he got tricked into giving away their cow. She says there’s no such thing as magic beans. The mom sends poor Jack to bed without any dinner — ”
“No pottage for him!” I say.
Jonah frowns. “Now I know how it feels when I’m always interrupting you.”
“Hah! Sorry.” I snort-laugh and zip my lips.
“And then the mom tosses the beans out the window. But guess what happens in the morning?”
“What?” I ask, even though of course I already know.
“A giant beanstalk grew out of those beans in the night!” Jonah is beaming. “The beanstalk is so tall it goes right up through the clouds! Cool, right? I would LOVE to climb a giant beanstalk. If we really are in the story, do you think we’ll get to climb it? Do you?”
“Of course,” I say. “But go on! Get to the fairy part.”
“So,” Jonah continues, “Jack climbs up the beanstalk. And up. And up. AND UP. He’s so high up in the sky that he’s above the clouds. And then he sees a castle.”
I wonder if the castle feels sturdy. Without a ground. I’m not sure how it could. Is it resting on the clouds? What happens when it rains? What happens after it rains?
“Abby, please pay attention,” Jonah tells me.
“Sorry,” I say, focusing back on Jonah.
“So Jack goes inside and meets a giant woman. She’s a million feet tall.”
I raise an eyebrow. “A million?”
“At least. And she tells Jack he’d better leave because her husband, the giant, eats little boys as a snack. He’s sleeping now but if he wakes up …”
I shudder.
“Anywa
y, Jack tells her he’s starving because he didn’t have dinner. The lady giant offers Jack some cheese and bread and says to eat fast and then leave.”
“Does he?”
Jonah nods. “Well, he eats, but he doesn’t leave. Want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because the giant wakes up! And he starts sniffing the air. Then he sings a song: ‘FEE, FI, FO, FUM. I smell the blood of an Englishman!’ There’s more to the song … something about bread.” Jonah shrugs. “Anyway, Jack hides and watches as the giant sits down to a meal and starts counting his gold coins. He has bags full of them. Jack knows that if he takes a bag of gold coins home to his mother, she won’t be mad at him anymore. And they’ll never be hungry again.”
“But how does he take one when the giant is counting his coins?” I ask.
“The giant falls asleep — right at the table,” Jonah explains. “And Jack rushes out of his hiding place, grabs a bag of coins, and flees the castle! He goes racing down the beanstalk.”
“Does the giant chase him?” I ask.
“Nope,” Jonah says. “He’s fast asleep. When Jack tells his mom what happened and shows her the coins, she’s so happy! They can now buy food and new shoes and comfortable chairs.”
I fidget on my very stiff chair, and nod.
“Plus, a new cow,” Jonah says. “Maybe even two new cows!”
“Well, that’s a relief for them,” I say.
“But eventually the money runs out,” Jonah goes on. “Jack has no choice but to go back up the beanstalk for more coins. The lady giant recognizes him right away and tells him to scram. She says the giant noticed the missing bag of coins, and if he catches Jack … whooo boy.” Then Jonah scratches his head, as if trying to remember what happens next.
Thirty seconds go by. Then a minute. I sigh. “Something about a goose that lays golden eggs?” I prompt him.
Jonah’s eyes light up. “That’s right — the goose! Okay, so Jack sneaks back into the giants’ castle. He watches the man giant tell his goose to lay a golden egg. And the goose does! A golden egg! When the giant falls asleep again, Jack grabs the goose and races down the beanstalk with it. The goose lays a golden egg right in their little house. Soon, Jack and his mom are richer than ever!” Jonah tilts his head again. “I forget the goose’s name.”
“I think it’s just the goose that lays the golden eggs.”
He scrunches up his face. “But I feel like I’m forgetting something else.” He scratches his head again and sticks out his tongue in concentration.
“Where does the fairy come in?” I ask.
“Oh, yeah!” Jonah says. “That’s what I forgot! At some point, a fairy tells Jack that the giant is the one who killed Jack’s dad and stole his dad’s money. It’s the reason why Jack and his mom are so poor.”
“What?” I ask, surprised. “The giant killed Jack’s dad? That’s horrible!” I knew Jack’s mom was a widow, but I don’t remember ever hearing what happened to his dad.
“So,” Jonah continues, “even though Jack and his mom are rich because of the golden eggs from the goose, Jack wants to go back up to the giant’s castle again and see what else he might want.”
“That sounds a little greedy,” I say. “But okay.”
“Yeah, but the mean giant killed his dad and stole their family’s money,” Jonah reminds me. “So maybe the giant deserves it.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “So Jack goes back up the beanstalk?”
Jonah nods. “The lady giant sees him and says the man giant is REALLY mad. But Jack doesn’t care. He hides and sees the giant telling a golden harp to play a song. And it does. Boy, does Jack want that harp. I mean, can you blame him? So he steals it and runs. But this time, the giant wakes up and sees him! He tells Jack to come back with his harp. Jack doesn’t — he keeps running and goes climbing down the beanstalk as fast as he can. The giant is climbing down after him. The beanstalk is shaking like crazy. Jack calls out, ‘Mom, get your ax, chop down the beanstalk! The giant is coming!’”
Yup, that’s how it goes in the version I know, too.
“So the mom chops down the beanstalk,” Jonah says, “and the giant falls off the beanstalk and lands with a thud and that’s the end of him.” Jonah makes a cutting motion across his neck.
“Oof,” I say. “Then do Jack and his mom live happily ever after?”
“They do,” Jonah says. “Jack marries a princess, too.”
“Really?”
He nods.
“This town has a princess?”
Jonah shrugs. “I guess?”
“How old is Jack anyway?”
He shrugs again.
I smell something good coming from the kitchen. My stomach rumbles.
“Just a few minutes till lunch is ready,” Ada calls out. “I sure hope Jack gets home soon. It’s raining something fierce out there.”
I hear footsteps running outside. Toward the house.
I look at Jonah, and then we both stare at the door.
Will it be Jack? It has to be Jack. Please be Jack!
The door opens, and a boy walks in. He looks older than me, maybe twelve or thirteen. He’s tall and skinny with a mop of light brown hair and hazel-green eyes. His shirt is wet from the rain and tattered like his mom’s dress, and his thin pants are way too short. He’s wearing really scuffed-up sneakers with big holes. I can see one toe sticking out. The other sneaker is held together with black tape.
His eyes widen when he sees us. “Uh, who are you two?” he asks. He also has a British accent.
“We’re Abby and Jonah,” I say. “And that’s Prince, our dog. And you are?”
I hold my breath.
The boy smiles. “Nice to meet you, mates. I’m Jack.”
Jonah’s eyes are lit up like lightbulbs. He jumps to his feet and runs over to Jack, flinging his arms around him. “Jack!” he cries. “I’ve been waiting to meet you forever.”
Jack looks surprised, taking a step back. “Me? Well, that’s a first.”
I get up and walk over to them.
“Jonah, let him go,” I say, because Jonah is still hugging Jack tight. Thankfully, Jonah listens to me and drops his arms.
Prince wakes up and runs over to Jack. He starts to sniff his falling-apart sneakers.
“How do you know me?” Jack asks, looking from Jonah to me in confusion.
Before Jonah or I can explain, Ada comes out of the kitchen.
“There you are, Jack!” Ada says, holding a pot with both hands. “I thought I’d have to keep lunch warm for you.”
“Sorry,” Jack says. “I was playing football near the market and lost track of time, but then the rain started.”
“You play football?” Jonah asks. “I don’t. But I play soccer. Not well.”
“Jonah,” I whisper. “I think this place is like England. I bet they call soccer football here.”
Jonah grins. “Oh! Cool!”
Jack nods. “I’m really good at football. I can give you some pointers after lunch if the rain stops, Jonah.”
“Awesome!” Jonah says. He looks happy. No. He looks ecstatic. I remember what he said earlier about Jack being the big brother he’s always dreamed of, and I feel a funny twinge.
Am I a little jealous? Of Jack?
No. Maybe.
Ada sets the pot down on the table, and Jonah, Jack, and I sit down in the chairs. Jonah makes sure to sit next to Jack, gazing up at him admiringly.
“Jack,” Ada says, “when it stops raining, I’ll need you to take Princess Milka to the market and sell her for a good price. She’s not giving any more milk.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mum. But I can do that if you need me to,” Jack responds.
Aw. Jack seems sweet. And I can’t help but notice — he’s kind of … cute. I like the way his golden-brown bangs flop over his forehead. And he has a nice smile. His accent doesn’t hurt, either. I shake my head, trying to push these thoughts away.
I’m in a fairy tal
e. I need to focus.
“I just have to tape my right sneaker before I go,” Jack is saying. “The sole completely came off. My foot got soaked.”
Ada frowns. “If you get a good price for the cow, you can buy yourself some decent used sneakers from the thrift stall at the market.”
Wow. So sad. I feel lucky that I never have to worry about having money for food or new shoes.
“Thanks, Mum,” Jack says.
“Abby?” Jonah whispers. “What’s a mum?”
“It’s how they say ‘mom’ here,” I explain.
“Ohhh,” he says. “Now I get it.”
Ada is about to sit down at the table, when she smacks her palm against her forehead. “I forgot the plates and spoons. Where is my head?” she asks. “Too worried about money troubles — that’s where.”
When Ada goes back into the kitchen, Jonah turns to Jack excitedly.
“Jack,” Jonah whispers. “Guess what?”
“What?” Jack asks.
Jonah has a huge smile on his face. “After lunch, you won’t have to worry about holes in your sneakers ever again.”
Uh-oh. What’s he doing?
“Huh?” Jack asks. “Why not?”
“On the way to the market,” Jonah begins, “you’re gonna meet a man who’ll trade you magic beans for Princess Milka!”
No, Jonah, no!
Jack laughs. “Magic beans? I would never sell our only cow for ‘magic’ anything. You’re funny.”
“No, I’m serious!” Jonah assures him. “You WANT to make the trade for the beans. You’ll end up with gold coins and —”
“Jonah!” I whisper. I reach across the table to nudge his arm. “Don’t … spill the beans!”
“Ha!” Jonah says.
“What beans?” asks Jack, looking confused.
“No beans,” I say. “Let’s not talk about beans.”
“Doesn’t the word ‘beans’ sound like a word you’d say when you mess up something?” Jonah asks. “Like, I just broke a glass. Oh, beans!”
“Jack!” Ada calls from the kitchen. “Come carry the plates and glasses.”
“Sure thing, Mum,” Jack responds, leaping up to help her.
I turn to my brother. “What are you doing? You said you wanted to be super careful.”
Spill the Beans Page 2