“Good Lord, Bertha,” she said to Grandma Bertie. “Those are a lot of bags. What are you donating tonight?”
“Chocolate chip muffins!” Grandma Bertie said. “Courtesy of Janine Malone’s campaign!”
Mayor Franklin’s eyes went flat. “Wonderful,” she said.
While we placed the bags on the table, Lauren looked at me and said, “My mom told me you’re racing in the pumpkin regatta tomorrow.”
My heart began to beat faster. “I am. I think I can win, too. I’m a pretty fast paddler.” Next to Lauren, Stella looked like she was slowly filling up with steam.
“I’ve been thinking,” Lauren continued, “maybe we were too hasty in making our decision over the summer. Maybe the Paddlers do need someone like you”—her eyes briefly flicked down to my tie-dye skirt, and she frowned—“or someone with your skills, anyway.” She gave a sideways glance at Stella. “Some of us haven’t been making enough of an effort lately. So maybe I’ll come see the race tomorrow—consider it a second tryout.”
“Awesome,” I said, smiling widely as Stella shot a murderous look my way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lauren stood up and left. Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Aunt Mildred suddenly raised her voice. “I’m telling you, we don’t know how those got in there.”
“They were in your bags. You mean to tell me you’ve never seen these before?” Mayor Franklin held up one of our tins and removed a plastic-wrapped bunch of cupcakes, the star stickers stuck to the top.
No, no, no! They weren’t supposed to be discovered until the auction was already under way! I had been so busy talking to Lauren I hadn’t realized Mayor Franklin had taken it upon herself to thoroughly inspect the contents of each bag, while Daisy, Sophia, and Violet were standing by with horrified looks, helpless to do anything.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Mrs. Franklin.” Aunt Mildred’s gaze briefly flickered over to me before she muttered something under her breath. I was pretty sure it was nasty French words.
“That’s Mayor Franklin.”
“What’s going on?” Mom said, striding up to the table. “Why are you yelling at my aunt and my mother?”
“Because they delivered baked goods with star stickers on them. See?” Mayor Franklin handed Mom a tin. “Those are exactly the kind of stickers the Star Bandit uses.”
Mom laughed. “Are you telling me you think one of them is the Star Bandit? Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been working too hard, Kendra. I think you need to take a break.”
Mom laughed again, until Stella said, “It’s not that ridiculous, Mrs. Malone. After all, the Star Bandit is someone from your family. It’s just not your aunt.” She paused and shot me an evil grin. “It’s Izzy.”
“What?” Mayor Franklin said.
“Ridiculous,” Grandma Bertie said.
“Crap,” Daisy said.
“Language!” Mom snapped. She turned to Mayor Franklin. “I do not appreciate your daughter making false accusations about my daughter. You can say whatever you’d like about me during this election, but my daughter is off-limits.”
“My daughter is not in the business of making false accusations,” Mayor Franklin said. “Stella, what are you talking about?”
“It’s true, Mrs. Malone. Honest,” Stella said, in the kiss-butt voice she reserved for adults. “I mean, I guess I don’t know for sure, but I saw Izzy the night Ms. Zubov’s garden was vandalized. She was hanging around the playground over on the village green, and she had star stickers with her. They were glowing in the dark, and I could see her face. Remember, Mom, we had to pick something up from the olive oil store that night?”
“That’s true,” Mayor Franklin said, surprise crossing her face as she remembered. “Why, that must have been right before the vandalism happened.”
“It wasn’t vandalism,” I blurted out.
“Izzy, hush.” Violet nudged me in the shoulder, but it was too late. Mom suddenly got quiet and stared at me searchingly. “Is this true, Isabella?” she asked.
I had planned on telling her the truth, maybe even tonight. But not like this. Not with Mayor Franklin and Stella watching, both of them not quite hiding their glee.
“It’s true,” I said, and it felt like I was swallowing a mouthful of nails. “I’m the Star Bandit.”
“You’re the Star Bandit,” Mom repeated woodenly. “The one who vandalized the wall—”
“I didn’t vandalize anything.”
“—and the one who ruined my campaign materials?”
“That was a complete accident.”
“Accident?” Mom said, her voice rising. “I am so tired of your excuses. We give you chance after chance, and you keep misbehaving.”
“Mom you have to listen to me, please,” I said, feeling panicky. “I never meant to—”
“You never mean to, Isabella. You just do.”
“Janine,” Grandma Bertie began, glancing around the room, “maybe we should—”
“Stay out of this, Mother.” Mom turned back to me, fury swirling in her eyes. “Do you know how embarrassing this will be when everyone finds out? People will wonder, if I can’t manage my own daughter, how can I possibly manage the whole town? Why do you have to make everything so difficult all the time? Why can’t you be more like your sister and . . .”
She cut herself off abruptly, but her words hung in the air. They smelled like failure. My failure, for not being as talented or as easy to get along with as Carolyn. For always being a loudmouthed rough edge, when what Mom really wanted was a mild-mannered smooth surface.
“I’m not Carolyn,” I said quietly. “I’m me. Not Carolyn, and not the sweet daughter Isabella you keep hoping I will be, but me, Izzy. And I’m tired of feeling bad about that.” I paused and added, “I saw your campaign mailer, with the picture of you, Dad, and Carolyn—the one you didn’t bother to include me in. I saw it on Ms. Zubov’s porch, and I accidentally left the box open, and the wind blew them out of the box—but I never purposely tried to damage anything.”
I couldn’t take any more. Not Mom’s sad expression, not Stella and Mayor Franklin’s smug smiles, not the pity I saw in Aunt Mildred’s and Grandma Bertie’s eyes.
I turned and ran from the hall, the sound of Daisy, Violet, and Sophia’s voices calling my name fading behind me like choir bells.
28
BRIGHT LIGHTS ON A DARK NIGHT
I ran out to Dandelion Square and through the village green, crunching across a carpet of golden leaves. It was just past dusk; the sky was sapphire blue and edged with an autumn chill. I stopped running when I reached the playground at the other end of the square, which was empty except for a couple high schoolers sucking face on the two swings. I sat down on the merry-go-round and stared at them, wishing I could sit on the swings.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me, I said to myself, and then waited to see if I felt any better.
I didn’t.
Why can’t you be more like your sister? Mom’s words were sharp like knives, and they cut deep. I always knew she felt like she’d won the kid lottery with Carolyn and not so much with me, but it hurt to hear her actually say it, and I wished she didn’t have to feel so embarrassed about being my mother.
I must have been staring at the high schoolers for a long time, because the girl came up for air long enough to say, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Okay, if you insist,” I said, pretending to remove a cell phone from my pocket. “But I think I’ll take a video instead. You know, in case I need any pointers later. I never knew kissing could be so loud.”
That sent them both stomping away indignantly, muttering about middle school pests, but I didn’t feel like getting up to sit on the swings anymore, so I lay back on the merry-go-round and stared up at the sky. Clouds were rolling in, but I could still see Orion and Big D, and I began to tell them what had happened.
I wished I could lasso both of them and take them to
Pumpkin Palooza tomorrow and to school next week, where everyone was sure to know I, Izzy Malone, Toad Girl, was the Star Bandit. Maybe their brilliance could save me from all the stares I was sure to get.
“I really wish just once you guys would answer me back,” I said.
“Izzy? Who are you talking to?”
I was halfway out of my seat before Violet materialized out of the darkness. Daisy and Sophia were right behind her. Violet looked around. “Is someone else here?”
“No,” I said. “I was just talking to the stars.”
“Oh, okay,” Violet said, like that was perfectly normal. She sat down on the merry-go-round. So did Daisy and Sophia. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said. When I didn’t answer, she added, “Did you know that after the sun, the closest star in our galaxy is Alpha Centauri? It’s over four light-years away from Earth. It’s actually not even just one star, but three of them, bound closely together.”
“That’s great, Violet,” I said, lying back on the merry-go-round. “That’s just what I need right now: an astronomy lesson.”
“I guess what I’m saying is, those stars are trillions of miles away. But the three of us are right here. Why don’t you talk to us instead?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You guys heard everything my mom said.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” Sophia said. “She was just mad.”
“That’s what she’ll tell me tomorrow. She’ll say she just lost her temper. But the thing is, a part of her did mean it. I know she did.”
Everyone was silent. One by one, I could hear them leaning back on the merry-go-round, till we were all four looking up. The clouds were still slowly drifting in, like white wispy fingers stretching across the night sky, but so far the stars were still visible and they glittered like diamonds.
“You know you’re going to have to go back to the auction, right?” Violet said after a while.
“Yeah, but not right now.”
“Not right now,” Violet agreed.
“But when you do,” Sophia said, “we’ll be with you.”
“And we will personally punch the lights out of anyone who messes with you,” Daisy said.
“Daisy,” Violet warned. “I don’t think—”
“I’m just speaking allegorically, of course. Or maybe metaphorically? Or some other ‘ally’ word that only Violet knows,” Daisy said, and everyone laughed.
After we quieted down, Sophia said, “Look at that view. The stars are beautiful.”
“They sure are,” I said. I couldn’t help but wonder if Orion and Big D had somehow sent me Daisy, Violet, and Sophia.
Because maybe the best kind of friends are like stars: bright and beautiful, appearing in the darkness just when you need them, giving you a little bit of light on a dark night.
29
PUMPKIN PIE PUKE
Next to me, I could feel Daisy getting restless. First she started jiggling her leg. Then she dug her heel into the sand and pushed off, so we slowly started to spin. I joined in, and soon the merry-go-round was whirling.
“Who’s doing that?” Sophia asked.
“Izzy and Daisy,” Violet answered. “And if you don’t stop it I’m going to spew pumpkin pie puke all over you both.”
“As your appointed escort,” came a voice from the darkness, “I’m afraid vomit of any flavor is strictly prohibited.”
Sophia and Violet screamed. Daisy jumped off the merry-go-round. I sat up and looked around. Scooter McGee stood by the swings, grinning.
“Mildred sent me to corral you girls,” he said, coming closer. “It appears Izzy’s father wishes to speak with her.”
“I’ll bet he does,” I said, lying back down. “I am so dead. You guys might as well just say good-bye to me now.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Scooter said. “The Star Bandit’s cupcakes saved the day. Or the night, I should say.”
“What?” I sat back up. “What do you mean?”
“You girls ran away so fast, you didn’t get to see the auction. Your cupcakes started a bidding war. Everyone wanted a piece of the Star Bandit’s story.” Scooter’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “I myself paid five hundred dollars for a dozen cupcakes. Pumpkin pie, I believe.” He glanced at Violet and frowned. “I do hope they don’t cause serious indigestion.”
“Just don’t eat six of them and then go spinning on a merry-go-round,” Violet said, clutching her stomach.
“You paid five hundred dollars?” Sophia said, sounding awed. “Are you serious?”
“Quite so,” Scooter replied. “It’s not often I get homemade cupcakes, especially ones from a notorious Dandelion Hollowian.” He offered me his arm. “Well, Izzy Malone? Are you ready to ‘face the music,’ as they say?”
I stood up and took his arm. “I guess so,” I said, and we left the playground, with Daisy, Violet, and Sophia following along behind us.
The walk back was way too quick. The display tables were empty, and the Rotary Club members were packing away the folding chairs. The hall was nearly deserted, except for Dad, who was waiting for us, along with Grandpa and Grandma Caulfield, Mr. Barnaby, and Mrs. Ramos. They were all standing in a circle chatting, while Sophia’s brothers played on the floor with toy cars. Grandma Caulfield was the first to notice us, and her eyes narrowed as she said something to Dad, who turned to meet us.
“Great,” Daisy muttered. “Looks like we’re all doomed. Where is Delia when I really need her?”
“Where’s Mom?” I asked Dad.
“Grandma Bertie and Aunt Mildred drove her home,” he answered. “She wasn’t feeling well.”
“I’ll excuse myself now and help with cleanup,” Scooter said. “Holler if you need anything, Robert.”
Dad nodded. “Thanks, Scooter.” To me, he said, “Now, listen. I don’t know—”
“Chief Malone?” Sophia stepped forward. “I just want you to know that if Izzy is in trouble, then I should be too. I knew she was the Star Bandit, and I helped her tonight. I baked most of those cupcakes.” She paused and glanced nervously at her mother. “I guess I’m sort of the Star Bandit too.”
“Me too,” Violet said. She looked at her dad and shrugged. “I helped clean Ms. Zubov’s garden.”
“Um . . . me three,” Daisy said. “I helped Izzy get away so she could paint the wall at the dance. I’m also the Star Bandit.”
“In a way, sir,” Sophia said, “I guess you could say we’re all the Star Bandit.”
At that, all the parents began murmuring to each other, but I stayed quiet. It felt like something was lodged deep in my throat. I wasn’t used to anyone sticking up for me. Usually, if I got into trouble, the kids at school were real quick to rat me out.
Something soft flashed in Dad’s eyes. Then he went into Chief Malone mode and gestured to some folding chairs and ordered us to sit down. “Explain,” he said, after we were settled.
“It all started with Mrs. Whippie’s first letter,” I said. “Remember that charm school you signed me up for?” I spent the next half hour telling Dad all about the letters and tasks, with Daisy, Violet, and Sophia occasionally jumping in.
“So . . . all this was to earn the charms on your bracelet?” he asked when we finished.
“Yes.” I swallowed. “You believe me, don’t you? I never tried to hurt Mom’s campaign. I was going to tell you guys, I swear, after we auctioned off the cupcakes. I just wanted to do something right before I told you.”
“I believe you, Izzy,” Dad said. He glanced over at the other parents, who had been quietly listening all this time, and added, “I believe all four of you. But, Izzy—I think a long talk with your mother is in order.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“Does this mean you won’t be arresting us, Chief Malone?” Daisy asked, shooting a quick look at her grandparents. “Because if you are, I’d like to make my phone call, and call Delia.”
Dad looked like he was trying not to smile. �
�I won’t be arresting anyone tonight, Daisy. But,” he added, his voice growing stern, “that does not mean the four of you aren’t in a lot of trouble. As for you, Izzy, early next week you will go down to Principal Chilton’s office. You will apologize for painting that wall and you will accept whatever consequences he gives you. You will also apologize to Ms. Zubov for scaring the daylights out of her. And you’re going to offer to clear out her garden at the end of the fall season. During the daytime, when she is not inclined to employ the services of her Taser. You will also be grounded for a month. And you can still help me get Bozo to Pumpkin Palooza tomorrow morning, and you can still race in the regatta in the afternoon, but that’s about as much of the harvest festival as you’re going to experience this year. The rest of your day will be spent helping out at your mother’s booth. No rides, no games, no nothing. And . . . you will apologize to your mother. Do I make myself clear?”
“I promise,” I said, nodding. “I will never get in this much trouble again.”
“You had better mean that, Isabella.”
“Iz—” I started to argue, until Violet clapped a hand over my mouth.
“That sounds great, Mr. Malone,” she said.
We all went our separate ways after that. Daisy, Violet, and Sophia each went home with her family. Dad and I stuck around so we could help finish cleaning up. Just as Dad went to put the last of the folding chairs away, Scooter stopped to talk to me. “I overheard a little of what you said to your dad. Did you say ‘Whippie’ was the name of your school? That name sure brings back memories.”
“Memories?” I said. “What do you mean?”
“I went to school with a Whippie once. Jack Whippie. So did your grandma and great-aunt, as a matter of fact.” He shook his head sadly. “That was a real tragedy. Mildred loved him dearly,” he said, and something fluttered at the edges of my memory. “If Jack hadn’t died, I’ll bet she would have married him.”
The Charming Life of Izzy Malone Page 13