Time's Up

by Annie Bryant

  “Kelley!” she called up the stairs. “Do you want me to read some fairy tales before we go to bed?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Kelley danced down the hallway. “I love ‘The Princess and the Pea, Pea, Pea’!”

  Tonight Katani needed a happily-ever-after ending.

  CHAPTER 14

  The Knitwits to the Rescue

  Charlotte stared at the second hand speeding around and around the face of her watch. She had been waiting until the end of Ms. R’s after-school prep session to talk to Nick. Okay, no more stalling, Charlotte thought as she saw him get up from his desk. I have to do this now.

  “Hey, Nick,” she said in a rushed voice. “I think we should postpone Saturday. I have so much work to do this week.”

  “Yeah, that’s cool. I’m totally swamped with all these projects—math and English, plus I have all this extra lab work for science.” Charlotte thought Nick actually seemed relieved. “And there’s the bakery. Everyone’s busy this week, not just me.”

  “Way too busy,” Charlotte agreed. “Isn’t this supposed to be hibernation season?”

  Nick laughed. “Let’s just go on another Saturday.”

  “Sounds good,” Charlotte said. That was easy. Was it too easy? He still hadn’t called it a date. Why was all this so hard to figure out? Either way, she would definitely have to IM the BSG tonight and let them know the non-date-date was postponed for now.

  “I guess I better go now. I have to work later,” Nick said. “Are you walking home?”

  “I am.” Charlotte packed up her papers, and the two of them walked down the hall together.

  Just as they were leaving, Chelsea Briggs came flying out of the darkroom with something under her arm. She was carrying it like it was made of precious gems.

  Charlotte said hi and asked, “Were you printing something special?”

  A smile spread across Chelsea’s face like a half moon and she clutched the book to her chest. “I could show you if you want.”

  “Okay,” Nick said. “Let’s go to the bakery. I’ve got to work in a little while.”

  “Any excuse to have a hot chocolate and a cookie,” Charlotte reasoned.

  “I’m ready,” Chelsea said. She seemed to walk with a bounce in her step.

  Outside, tiny flakes of snow were blowing this way and that in the wind. Charlotte opened her mouth and caught one on her tongue and began to spin around. Chelsea joined in as Nick grabbed some in his fist and flung them in the air. Snow dances weren’t exactly his thing.

  “Cool,” he said. “Maybe we’ll have a snow day tomorrow.”

  When they arrived at Montoya’s, Nick noted, “Looks like we have the whole place to ourselves.”

  “I’ve never seen it this empty,” Chelsea commented.

  “Maybe I won’t have to work after all,” Nick said. “Where should we sit?”

  Chelsea pointed to a table by the window so they could watch the flakes. The girls gave Nick some money for their drinks and chocolate pistachio biscotti just out of the oven. When he brought the drinks and treats over, Chelsea reached for a biscotti, then changed her mind. “Want to split one, Charlotte?” she asked.

  “Sure!” Charlotte agreed. She wanted to support Chelsea, who had been on this serious health kick since the class trip to Lake Rescue last fall.

  Chelsea laid her treasure on the table. “It’s a travel scrapbook for my mom—for her birthday. We’ve gone a lot of places together.”

  She slowly turned the pages covered with cool photos and souvenirs like ticket stubs and brochures, all labeled with captions and entries telling about each place they visited.

  “Wow, Chels, you’ve been to so many states!” Nick said. “I can’t wait to go on a road trip.”

  “My mom loves traveling. She’ll go somewhere just to look at the houses and buildings. I guess that’s why she’s a real estate agent.” She pointed to a picture of the Sears Tower. “Like this is from a boat tour of Chicago’s architecture. We could see the whole city from the water. Then we went to the Frank Lloyd Wright Museum. My mom was crazy for that.”

  Chelsea pointed and turned the page. “And here’s the house Ernest Hemingway grew up in.”

  “He went from Illinois to Paris—it’s like the reverse of my life!” Charlotte laughed. “I love seeing where writers lived. It’s really inspiring.”

  “I think so too.” Chelsea turned the page. “And here’s my mom eating shark bites in Tampa. I tried them, too. They tasted like tough chicken.”

  “I tried antelope and ostrich in Africa,” Charlotte said. “And I tasted my dad’s bush rat.”

  “You ate rat?” Chelsea exclaimed. “Ew! That’s one thing I’d never try.”

  “I swallowed a goldfish when I was little,” Nick told them, “but it was an accident. My mom put it in a cup while she was cleaning out the bowl.”

  The girls didn’t know whether to laugh or groan, so they did both.

  “Are these redwoods?” Charlotte asked, pointing to a forest of the most magnificent tall trees.

  Chelsea nodded. “In Northern California. They’re amazing. I never felt so small in my life! I was like a squirrel beside those trees.”

  “Have you always taken pictures of the outdoors?” Nick asked.

  “I always loved taking pictures of our trips so I could remember every detail. But it wasn’t until we took that school trip to Lake Rescue that I really looked up close at nature and stuff. I didn’t want to go up there at all, and then it turned out to be one of the best trips I’ve ever taken. I always learn so much when I go to a new place.” Chelsea turned a few pages to show them a few photos of the black and white loons through a gray mist on Lake Rescue.

  “You know, since Lake Rescue, I like being out more, and I’m so busy doing my photography. My mom’s happy about that. That’s why I’m giving her this book—I mean, besides her birthday. She was always trying to get me to exercise and eat better, and now I’m on her case about her sweet tooth!”

  Charlotte nodded. She remembered how kids used to make fun of Chelsea by calling her “Chelsea Biggs.” It wasn’t until Lake Rescue that a lot of people started seeing Chelsea Briggs for who she was—a really great girl with a passion for photography.

  “My mom always tells me, let food be your medicine and let medicine be your food. Some Greek guy said it,” Nick told them.

  “Hippocrates,” Charlotte piped up. “He said it.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Nick replied. “It’s what she tells me and Fabiana whenever we want to chow down the serious junk food, because good food is so important to her.”

  Chelsea nodded. “My mom says in other countries kids don’t snack like they do here.”

  “It’s true,” Charlotte agreed. “From what I’ve seen, I mean. That’s my favorite part of traveling—learning how people live and seeing how different they are. But it’s funny because we’re all so much the same, too. Take Shadya, my friend in Africa. Her family would roast a whole goat on their religious holidays. I couldn’t exactly imagine roasting a goat on Corey Hill! But I can get into a big turkey dinner. And Sophie, my best friend in Paris. Even though I sent her a Red Sox cap, she cannot understand how anyone could watch a baseball game. She says it’s so long and boring and what’s the point. But she loves watching boring French movies.”

  Nick laughed. “I guess she’s never seen Big Papi!” he joked, naming his favorite Red Sox player.

  “All kids must like ice cream,” Chelsea said definitively.

  “And no kids like making their beds,” Nick said. “Well, except maybe Katani.”

  “And probably Betsy, too,” Charlotte added.

  “I really wish we could make that travel website for kids,” Nick exclaimed. “Kids could write about places they’ve gone and trade stories about all the crazy stuff that happens.”

  “And maybe they could post photos so we could really see these places,” Charlotte added.

  “Once we build the site!” Chelsea laughed.r />
  “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that part!” Nick laughed too. Nobody had time to do anything this week, much less create a website.

  What a Bunch of Knitwits

  Katani walked with Maeve over to Irving’s Toy and Card Shop, Maeve’s favorite place to buy penny candy. “Katani, I am one hundred percent sure Mrs. Weiss can help you out,” Maeve assured her. Mrs. Weiss, the friendly owner of Irving’s, had a soft spot for Maeve. “You just have to trust me on this one.” But she refused to say anything else about it. Instead, she asked about Math Boy. “Did you talk to Reggie at all today?”

  “He said hi and I said hi. That was it.” Katani shrugged. “I took your advice and got a good sleep last night. I feel a trillion times better—but I still have all these scarves to knit by Sunday! How am I ever going to manage?”

  Maeve just smiled and walked ahead.

  “You think that’s funny?” Katani demanded as she quickened her pace. “You try it!”

  The bell on the door to Irving’s clanged when Maeve pushed it open. Katani liked Irving’s too, because it had lots of cool stuff, and because the store had a sweet cinnamon scent like her grandmother’s study, and because Mrs. Weiss always had a big stash of Swedish Fish. In Maeve’s world, Swedish Fish were one of life’s necessities, and on days like this, Katani had to agree.

  No one else was in the store, so Maeve went straight to the register with Katani and her pink mohair yarn in tow and began to tell Mrs. Weiss all about Katani’s tragic situation. As she explained the predicament Katani was in, Mrs. Weiss listened, occasionally nodding sympathetically.

  Finally the proprietor of Irving’s said, “Sounds like you bit off more than you could chew.”

  Maeve and Katani nodded at the same time. Mrs. Weiss had this reassuring way of making confusing things sound simple, and making you feel like you weren’t the only person in the world with that problem.

  “So, what do you think we should do?” Maeve winked at Mrs. Weiss.

  With a warm smile, Mrs. Weiss asked Katani. “What do you need the most, Katani?”

  Katani swallowed. “I really need some expert knitters to help with the scarves,” she admitted, looking down, “but I don’t know anyone else who could knit that much in just a few days. I mean I just can’t walk into a store and ask for a bunch of random people to help me!”

  Maeve knowingly glanced at Mrs. Weiss and asked, “What do you think—a job for the Knitwits?”

  “None other,” Mrs. Weiss agreed.

  Katani frowned, very confused. Who were the nitwits and how were they supposed to help her? Was this some kind of joke? She had no time for jokes today.

  “Um, who are—”

  “Just a minute, girls,” Mrs. Weiss interrupted her cheerfully. While she went to grab her hat and coat from the back room, Maeve put a finger to her lips and smiled mysteriously.

  “All right, let’s go!” Mrs. Weiss exclaimed, sweeping an eager Maeve and a very confused Katani out the door. She locked Irving’s and hung a sign on the door that read BE BACK IN 20 MINUTES.

  Katani felt silly carrying her bags of yarn as she tried to keep up with Mrs. Weiss, who, despite her age, walked ahead, fast and determined. “So, Mrs. Weiss,” she started tentatively, “where are we going?”

  “To see a very special group of friends,” she told them. “The Knitwits. I told Maeve about them because they remind me of the BSG, only older. Much older.”

  “Why do they call themselves nitwits?” Katani asked, trying to be polite. Who in their right mind would want to be known as a nitwit? she wondered.

  “Knitting,” Mrs. Weiss answered, chuckling, and pointing to Katani’s bags of yarn. “They all love knitting. Knitwits with a K.”

  Katani sighed with relief. “Oh, now I get it.”

  Maeve giggled and grabbed Katani’s arm. “I told you she could help.”

  “The ladies put their money together and bought a brownstone so none of them would have to live alone as they got older. You’ll get a kick out of them. They’re feisty all right, real firecrackers. A group of five—like you girls,” Mrs. Weiss explained.

  “What are their names again?” Maeve asked.

  Katani felt bewildered by all of this. Did she really want to let a group of little old ladies help her? What if they were really slow or they couldn’t see? This could be another disaster, Katani worried.

  “We’re almost there now,” Mrs. Weiss said. “Let me fill you in quickly. June is a retired army field nurse. She’s very straightforward, a real live-wire. Sally used to be a social worker and she might go back to work after some time off—she’s recently widowed. She’s just lovely. They all are. Frances is a teacher at Somerville High. And Maeve, you’ll be glad to meet Delilah, a former actress, and Natasha, who used to dance with the Boston Ballet. Now she’s a yoga teacher. They’re all great fun. Very independent gals. Here we are.”

  Mrs. Weiss rang the bell on the cobalt blue door. “At the Bluebell House.”

  The House with the Blue Door

  A woman with shimmering white hair pulled back into a loose bun answered the door. She was wearing black leggings and a purple sweater that reached to her knees. “Ethel, what a lovely surprise!” she said, and gave Mrs. Weiss a quick hug. She introduced herself as Frances to Katani and Maeve, glancing with a smile at Katani’s two bags of pink mohair yarn.

  “Come in everyone, please. Just in time for tea and my special home-baked cookies.”

  Katani heard someone playing piano as they followed Frances into a soft blue-colored room with ceilings so high the air seemed lighter and easier to breathe. Katani already felt better. There was something very soothing about Bluebell House. Maybe it was the sweet smell of cider wafting from the stove, or maybe the sky blue walls covered with paintings and family photographs. Or possibly it was the soft gray tapestries hung from the walls and the woven white rug covering the middle of the floor. All Katani knew was the house made her feel happy and relaxed. Books and magazines were stacked all around the room and there were beautiful crystal vases, colorful masks, a bronze statue of a woman stretching into a dance—there were so many wonderful things to take in!

  One of the Knitwits was playing the piano while the others sat in a circle of comfortable chairs, sipping tea and eating chocolate cookies. When they saw the group, the ladies immediately stood and introduced themselves, shaking hands with the girls and chattering away. Right away the women reminded Katani of Grandma Ruby and Miss Pierce, Charlotte’s landlady. They might be old, but they were lovely and smart, and it seemed like they got to do whatever they wanted. Katani hoped to be just like them when she got older. Maybe all the BSG could buy a house together.

  The Knitwits invited their guests to stay for tea. “Of course, thank you,” said Mrs. Weiss, “but we are in a bit of a hurry. I have to be back at the store in ten minutes. After all, what if some poor soul came looking for Swedish Fish?” She winked at Maeve.

  Then Mrs. Weiss turned to the Knitwits. “Let me tell you why we’re here.” She proceeded to tell them Katani’s story. The women listened, nodding sympathetically, and when Mrs. Weiss was done, the Knitwits leaned back in their chairs, glancing at one another.

  June, who was small with straight, dark gray hair, spoke first. She had a husky, determined voice, which she probably needed to be a field nurse. “Katani, we would be delighted to help you out. Wouldn’t we, ladies? Everyone needs a little help in a pinch. We’ll finish the scarves for you if you bring us a model and the yarn right away.”

  “Really? I can’t believe it. I brought all the yarn. And here’s a model.” Smiling gratefully, Katani showed them the pink mohair scarf she’d worn over.

  “Lovely, and the design looks simple enough,” Sally commented. “May I take a look?”

  Katani handed her the model scarf. She just couldn’t believe it: They were really going to knit the scarves for her! It was a miracle! It was going to get done. Somebody was watching out for her!

  “And you could
do one thing for us,” Frances added in a way that reminded Katani of Ms. Rodriguez. It seemed like all the best teachers had a certain way of talking, friendly but firm.

  “Anything.” Katani nodded.

  “Deliver some scarves we already knitted to a downtown homeless shelter for women.”

  “The bags are right over here.” Graceful, willowy Delilah rose up, standing on her toes to point out a half a dozen shopping bags lined up against the wall behind them.

  “I could do that.” Katani looked at Maeve. “With a little help.”

  “I’ll help for sure,” Maeve said. “We can do it. And do you think Kelley could help too?” she asked, looking at Katani.

  Katani could have hugged her thoughtful friend. It was the perfect way to make Kelley feel included! “Definitely,” Katani agreed.

  The girls promised they would pick up the shopping bags the next afternoon to take to the homeless shelter, and then they thanked the Knitwits and waved good-bye. Outside, a thin blanket of white covered everything and the light snow was still coming down. Katani leaped into the air, throwing her arms around Mrs. Weiss and then Maeve.

  “Is this really Katani Summers?” Maeve asked, smiling at her usually reserved friend.

  “You saved my life!” Katani exclaimed.

  Mrs. Weiss patted her on the arm and said, “That’s what friends are for, dear.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Game On

  Everybody dance now!” the voice over the huge speakers boomed, while random images of the cheering crowd flashed onto the giant scoreboard hanging from the center of the ceiling.

  Isabel, Charlotte, Maeve, and Mrs. Madden were at the exhibition game to cheer Avery on, and they were having a blast! Isabel and Maeve were singing along with the rest of the crowd as fans around the arena grooved to the thumping dance beat.

  “Let’s dance, Isabel! Maybe we’ll be up on the big screen!” Maeve shouted.