“I’m a puppy,” said Parvati.
“I’ll be a cat,” Eva volunteered.
“Perfect,” said Chloe. She pointed into the tree. “Beatrice is a bat.”
Lenny glared up at Beatrice.
Beatrice stared down at Lenny.
Their eyes said all the things they couldn’t say out loud.
“Come on, guys,” said Chloe. She waved her arm and ducked through the doorway.
Lenny shrugged up at Beatrice, then followed Chloe inside—followed by Grace the Poodle, Parvati the Puppy, and Eva the Cat. One by one, they disappeared—first the two vets, then the three pets.
Beatrice the Bat stayed outside alone, pondering her next move.
Laughter echoed out of the new veterinary clinic. Beatrice didn’t know what was so funny, but Lenny laughed the loudest. After a whole summer of preparation, and eighty-seven minutes of third-grade desperation, everything was falling apart.
Luckily, Beatrice knew what she had to do.
Lenny’s laughter meant one thing: it was time for an injured wing.
Rocking back and forth, Beatrice gained momentum. On the count of two, she flipped her legs, stretched out her arms, and flew.
“Eeeek!” she screeched in her best bat voice.
She planned to land in a graceful crumple. She planned to clutch her wing and whimper. When they all came out to investigate, she planned to impress them with her pretend-bat skills.
But—like the rest of her day, things didn’t go exactly as planned.
The ground arrived sooner than she expected and smacked her in the face.
“Owww!” she screamed, sounding more like a human than a bat.
Lenny rushed out of the clinic. “What was that?”
“It was me,” Beatrice mumbled, sprawled on the ground.
“Beatrice!” Lenny screamed.
Chloe rushed out behind her, followed by the trio of pets.
“Eeeek!” screeched Chloe, sounding more like a bat than a vet.
Kids came running from all corners of the playground. It didn’t take much to draw a crowd at recess—
Maybe it was Beatrice’s bat scream.
Maybe it was her real one.
Maybe it was Lenny’s scream.
Or maybe it was the way Chloe hadn’t stopped screaming.
Lenny knelt next to Beatrice. Her eyebrows pinched together. “Beatrice, you’re bleeding!” she yelled. Her eyebrows didn’t pinch together like she was worried—they pinched together like she was mad.
Beatrice touched her face. It was sticky with blood.
Chloe turned pale. “I think I’m going to faint.”
Beatrice jumped to her feet, covering her face with her sleeve. “I’m okay!” she announced. “It’s only a bloody nose. I was just coming inside to play.”
“Ew,” said Eva the Cat. “You should probably go see Ms. Cindy instead.”
“Uh-huh,” the poodle agreed. “You need a nurse.”
The puppy nodded her head. “Yeah—before that gets worse.”
Chloe groaned and slumped to the ground.
“I planned to see the veterinarian,” Beatrice told them, gesturing toward Chloe. “But it doesn’t look like that’s going to work out.”
Lenny frowned at her, fanning Chloe’s face.
“Fine,” Beatrice announced. “I’ll be right back.”
Raising her chin, she spun around.
The whole crowd took a giant step backward, letting her through.
Only one person didn’t back up with the rest—she stepped forward instead.
“What in the world, Beatrice?!” Kate fumed. “I don’t understand you. It’s the first day of school, and you’re already a disaster!”
Beatrice faced her sister as the wall of spectators listened in. All the day’s frustration flooded her eyes as blood dripped down her chin.
“Please don’t tell Mom.” She wiped her nose with her sleeve. “It’s really not that bad.”
Kate cringed. “One look at your face, and I won’t have to say a thing.” She looked around. “How’d it happen, anyway?”
Her gaze bounced between Beatrice and Lenny and Chloe on the ground.
Beatrice shrugged and looked away. Everyone was listening, and there was too much to say.
“Well—you better go to the office,” Kate told her. “You can’t go back to class like that.”
Lenny was crouched next to Chloe, reminding her to relax and take deep breaths. Grace, Parvati, and Eva stood nearby, along with the rest of the crowd, waiting to see what Beatrice would do.
Beatrice held up her hands. “Okay!” she huffed, shouldering past Kate. “I was already going anyway.”
She pulled the collar of her turtleneck over her face and headed inside. Every step closer to the school put Lenny further away.
The nurse’s office hadn’t changed over the summer. It was still a mishmash of mismatched furniture and random supplies. The same scuffs marked the walls.
“Is my favorite upside down thinker under there somewhere?”
When Beatrice heard the familiar voice, her whole body relaxed. She tugged the turtleneck away from her face and smiled wryly at Ms. Cindy, the school nurse. “The one and only,” she said and took a bow.
The bow turned out to be a mistake.
“Oh dear,” said Ms. Cindy. She grabbed a roll of paper towels from her desk and passed Beatrice a generous handful. “Maybe you better lie down. Got yourself good, didn’t you?”
“We were playing veterinarian. I was a bat.”
“Of course you were,” said Ms. Cindy. “I wondered how soon I’d see you this year.” Beatrice blotted her face. “First day,” Ms. Cindy mused. “That has to be a record—even for you.”
“That’s me,” said Beatrice. “Winner of weird prizes.”
“The girl who always surprises,” Ms. Cindy fired back.
Beatrice laughed.
“Oh dear,” said Ms. Cindy, handing her another wad. “I know I’m funny, but try not to laugh.”
“When it stops bleeding, can I go back out there?”
“To the playground?” asked Ms. Cindy. “I don’t think so. The real question is if you’ll be back in class today.”
Beatrice set down the paper towels. “But I’m totally fine.”
“Said the girl with blood dripping down her face.”
“It’s only a bloody nose.”
“Health-code policy, I’m afraid. Your outfit needs to go in here.” Ms. Cindy held up a doubled plastic bag. “Don’t worry, though, I’m going to call your parents to bring you a change of clothes. Anything I can get you from the teachers’ lounge? Ice pack? Maybe an ice cream?”
Beatrice shook her head. “No, thanks.” She just wanted to get back outside.
“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” The nurse handed her the whole roll of towels as she headed out the door. “Here’s this—just in case. Why don’t you lean your head back and relax while I’m gone?”
Ms. Cindy popped back in a few minutes later. “When I said to lean your head back, I didn’t mean that far back.”
Beatrice sat up. “What’d they say?”
“No answer, but I left them each a message.”
“I think they both have meetings today. Did you try our babysitter?” Then Beatrice remembered—it was Tuesday, and Henry had baby-enrichment classes all day. She looked down at her ninja suit. “Are you sure I can’t go back in this? You can’t even see the blood.”
“Sorry, kid,” the nurse said. “Tough girl or not, those are the rules.”
“I don’t care about rules.” Beatrice crumbled. “I have to go back!”
Ms. Cindy passed her a tissue. “That one’s for your eyes,” she told her. “We keep a stash of lost-and-found clothes in that bin behind you, for emergencies. All freshly laundered. You’re welcome to dig around and see what you can find while you wait.
“And if you get bored, Mr. Hannah has a bunch of socks in that bag, along with some
random art supplies. Sometimes kids make puppets when they talk to him.” Mr. Hannah was the school counselor. Beatrice had talked to him on several occasions. He was always very serious. He had never mentioned puppets.
Beatrice wiped her eyes. “Any spare ninja suits around here?”
“I’m afraid we’re fresh out,” said Ms. Cindy, “but Mrs. Tamarack dropped off your backpack and your lunch. It’s right here if you get hungry.” She set Beatrice’s belongings on a chair by the door. “I’m sure your parents will call back soon. I’ve got some stuff to take care of. You’ll be fine here while I get to it?”
Beatrice nodded.
Her nose throbbed. Her head hurt.
And Lenny didn’t want to be a ninja anymore.
Even worse, Lenny didn’t want to be Lenny anymore.
Beatrice lifted her thumb. “I’ll be fine,” she told Ms. Cindy.
The first half hour Beatrice did nothing but think.
And think.
And think some more.
She should’ve been pondering contenders for Operation Upside, or other potential locations for their secret base, but all she could think about was Lenny.
Hoping it would make her feel better, Beatrice broke into her lunch. She scattered the contents on one of the room’s many chairs and arranged them in the order she always ate them, from first to last.
Glancing at the clock, her stomach dropped. Lenny and Chloe were probably together in the cafeteria right now, eating lunch in its proper order.
Suddenly she wasn’t hungry anymore.
Not even for dessert.
She bagged everything up and zipped it out of sight.
She needed to get out of here.
She studied the scuffed-up door. First-aid posters decorated every inch, but none of them helped with her current emergency. On the other side, Ms. Cindy murmured and moved around, but she didn’t come back in. Beatrice counted each time the shadow of her feet passed the crack under the door.
While she waited for Ms. Cindy’s return, Beatrice counted other things. Ceiling tiles. Used paper towels. Spiderwebs. The socks in Mr. Hannah’s supply bag.
There were seventeen socks and zero matches.
Beatrice slipped a favorite onto each hand. Then she checked her nose.
It was still bleeding.
“Look at you,” Beatrice said to her left hand, “you’re a mess.”
“You look a little rough yourself.”
“It’s been a rough day,” Beatrice admitted.
“Good thing it’s not over yet,” said her other hand.
“Wow,” said Beatrice. “You’re right. It isn’t over.” There was still time to turn things around. Gathering a fresh wad of paper towels, she covered her nose and secured the paper towel in place with her turtleneck.
Then, squaring her shoulders, Beatrice stood tall.
She was the cofounder of a secret operation. She couldn’t give up. Not on Operation Upside. And never on Lenny.
If the mission ever mattered, it mattered now.
Beatrice marched to the emergency clothes bin, determined to find something to wear, determined to get back to Lenny. The blue lid popped off with a snap.
“It’s time to take matters into my own hands,” she said.
A tangle of cast-off clothing filled the container. Beatrice took a deep breath and dug in.
She considered
each item,
one by one.
Then she tossed them aside, two by two…
and too by too.
When she reached the bottom of the bin, she collapsed on her knees. “No wonder no one wanted these.”
Her right hand spoke up.
“Like what?”
“Like, what if any minute now, your mother shows up with that dress?”
Beatrice sat up. Anything was better than that dress. She closed her eyes and reached into the pile again. Her hands pulled out a pair of plaid pants and a cable-knit sweater. The sweater was too scratchy. The pants were too patchy.
But Beatrice didn’t care anymore.
She held the outfit high in triumph.
“We have a winner, folks!”
The tide was turning. Even her nose cooperated and finally stopped bleeding.
Beatrice tossed the used paper towel into the trash. The evidence of her injury disappeared into the bin, nothing but net. With her nose dry and her hope renewed, Beatrice wasted no time changing.
She stuffed her contaminated ninja suit inside the plastic bag from Ms. Cindy, then buried the bag in her backpack. She peeled off the puppets and packed them inside, too. “I’ll talk to you guys later,” she told them before she zipped them up. She repacked the lost-and-found bin and pushed it back where she’d found it.
Just like that, Operation Upside was back in business. Beatrice didn’t have a plan yet—but at least she was on her way back to Lenny.
Beatrice stuck her head out the door.
“Ms. Cindy?” she called. “I’m ready to go back to class.”
Ms. Cindy didn’t answer.
Beatrice tried again. “Hello?”
No one answered.
She tiptoed into the main office and looked around. The phones were ringing. Both desks were empty, and no one was in sight.
Something on the counter caught her eye.
Sitting there, in all their bright green glory, were Lenny’s glasses. A piece of yellow scrap paper was tucked beneath them.
It said: FOR ELEANOR SANTOS.
The phones stopped ringing. All sound was sucked out of the air. The whole office disappeared. All that existed was a pair of glasses and three special words.
In that moment, with Lenny’s official name spelled out in front of her, the first task of Operation Upside became clear. The day started rough, but it would end on an UPSIDE. She knew exactly how to make it happen.
If she did anything today, she would get this right.
The details of the plan fell into place as she perfected her costume. One brief stop into forbidden territory without getting caught, and the rest would be easy.
Untwisting the elastic bands from her hair, she shook her wild mane free, concealing her face in a curtain of mystery.
As the final touch, Beatrice picked up Lenny’s green frames and put them on.
It wasn’t a ninja suit—and she could barely see—but it was a pretty great disguise.
Before she left, she turned over the yellow paper and left a message for Ms. Cindy.
She hoped it was enough to cover her tracks.
Beatrice didn’t have a hall pass, but she marched down the main corridor of William Charles Elementary like she belonged there. Chin up, eyes straight ahead, her confident stride carried her past one teacher, three fifth graders, and a long line of kindergartners. No one gave her a second look.
She didn’t slow down until she reached the end of the line.
Everything she needed was on the other side. Beatrice gathered her courage, counted to three, and turned the knob. She stepped over the threshold into the teachers’ lounge, like she did it all the time.
The room was smaller than she expected.
A wooden conference table filled up most of the floor. A kitchenette covered one wall. Storage cabinets lined another.
After surveying the space, Beatrice grabbed the metal handle on a cabinet marked PAPER. She closed her eyes and hoped for the best. “Be open, be open,” she whispered. After a jiggle and wiggle, and a little force, the latch gave way.
A rainbow of paper packed the shelves. Beatrice searched the stacks, leafing for something very specific. Something shimmery. On the bottom shelf, in a pile of scraps and leftovers, Beatrice found exactly what she came for.
Next she scavenged for a pen. The third cabinet down housed a paradise of writing implements. Sliding Lenny’s glasses into her hair, she tapped her lip and assessed her options. She smiled when she saw a box marked GOLD.
Nothing was more official than glittering gold lettering.
/> Beatrice pulled out a chair and arranged her supplies on the table. For a minute she just sat there, taking it all in, envisioning the document she needed to create.
When she was ready, she uncapped a pen and practiced her letters on a piece of scrap paper. She scribbled. She looped. She twirled. With each experiment, her confidence grew.
Her handwriting looked good in gold.
She smoothed the special paper in front of her. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deep and pressed her pen to the real thing. The shiny ink glided across the smooth surface.
She crafted each letter with precision. After inscribing all the words, she puffed her cheeks and blew them dry with a gentle breeze. She tested the ink with her fingertips, then slid the paper into a folder for protection. With a thick red marker, she marked it CONFIDENTIAL.
The capital letters made her smile.
Operation Upside was happening, and it was happening today.
She tucked the folder into her backpack and tossed it over her shoulder. With her hand on the doorknob, and her heart pounding in anticipation, Beatrice flicked off the light. Her stomach let out a rumble of protest.
Beatrice paused as a new idea sparked to life in her mind.
It was too perfect to pass up.
Flicking the light back on, Beatrice backtracked to the kitchenette and yanked open the freezer. She hopped onto the counter to get a better look.
Deep in the back, Beatrice hit the jackpot.
Behind a stack of microwave lasagnas was an unopened box of ice-cream cones.
But before she claimed her prize, there was something she needed to do. Beatrice jumped down, grabbed a piece of paper, and made Ms. Cindy an IOU.
Smiling, Beatrice unzipped her bag and deposited three pre-packaged cones inside.
Things were looking up. And this was the cherry on top.
She dropped Lenny’s green glasses back into place. Everything was blurry again, but Beatrice was focused. She took a deep breath, flipped the light switch, and headed into the hall.
Beatrice Zinker, Upside Down Thinker Page 3