Beatrice Zinker, Upside Down Thinker

by Shelley Johannes

  “Now my sister calls me every day. We couldn’t be more different, but deep down, there’s no one more the same. I wish we’d realized that when we were younger.”

  Beatrice tipped back the last of her tea, trying to picture ways she and Kate were anything alike.

  The Zinkers’ babysitter peeked her head out the front door, frowning. Her eyes searched up and down the street, then squinted up into the trees. Beatrice set down her glass and handed the cat to Mrs. Jenkins. “I better go. Daphne gets worried when I don’t come right home.”

  Mrs. Jenkins patted her hand. “I understand, dear. They’re lucky to have you. Come back tomorrow. The tea will be here, and so will we.”

  Beatrice took the front steps two at time. “I’m here, Daphne!” she announced as she bounded through the door. She made a beeline for the laundry room and tossed her backpack onto the floor.

  In the kitchen, Kate was telling Henry and Daphne all about her first day of school.

  Beatrice lifted the lid on the washer and dumped her ninja suit inside. Operation Upside had survived its first day, but for the cofounder of a top-secret organization, the work was never done. After a drizzle of detergent and the push of a button, the machine started to hum. Kate’s voice faded as the room filled with the sound of water and bubbles and a fresh start tomorrow.

  Beatrice slung her backpack over her shoulder and ventured down the hall. She stopped in the kitchen doorway.

  “Want a snack?” Daphne held up a plate of vegetables. “We’re practicing our French.” Henry and Daphne sat on one side of the kitchen table, nibbling baby-sized veggies. Kate sat across from them, holding up flash cards.

  Kate’s eyes flicked up and met hers, then drifted to her nose. Despite Mrs. Jenkins’s story, Beatrice couldn’t imagine an older version of Kate calling her every day.

  Beatrice shook her head at Daphne.

  “No, thanks,” she told her. “I have some stuff I need to do.” Pointing behind her as she backed up the steps, she said, “I’ll be in my room.”

  Beatrice had just started to relax when Kate’s footsteps thudded up the stairs. She peeked her head around the corner and asked, “Are you okay?”

  Daphne must have sent Kate up to check on her.

  “Ep-yay,” said Beatrice. “Just practicing my Pig Latin.”

  Kate leaned against the wall. “Mom just called,” she said. “They’re almost home with dinner.” She chewed her thumbnail, staring at Beatrice. “Just so you know, I didn’t say anything about recess—but she already knew.”

  “Ms. Cindy called her,” Beatrice confessed. “Did she sound mad?”

  “Actually, no. If anything, she seemed worried about you.”

  Beatrice let out a sigh of relief. Kate tilted her head, studying Beatrice’s face. “It looks a lot better than it did earlier,” she said.

  Beatrice’s cheeks felt hot. It was an almost-apology. And, from Kate, it was a lot.

  “Thanks,” Beatrice told her.

  “So who was that girl with Lenny?”

  “That’s Chloe—Lenny’s new neighbor. She’s a veterinarian.”

  “You mean a vegetarian?”

  “No,” said Beatrice. “Well, maybe—she might be. She takes her animals very seriously.”

  Thinking about Chloe reminded Beatrice of the request Lenny had made first thing that morning. “Hey, Kate?” Beatrice said. She made herself ask the question before she changed her mind. “I have a question.”

  “Uh-oh,” said Kate, standing up straighter.

  “Do you have room in your foreign-language club for Lenny and Chloe?” Beatrice asked. “They think it’s a good way to meet new friends.”

  “Sure,” Kate said easily. “There’s always room.” She stepped away from the wall. “Like I always say…”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “It means: the more the merrier,” Kate translated.

  Beatrice pondered the phrase. She took a deep breath and watched her sister’s face. “What about me?” she asked. “Or is that scarier?”

  Downstairs a car door slammed. The front door opened and closed. Henry tried out his French while Nancy Zinker cooed her hellos.

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “You really want to join my club?”

  “Maybe,” said Beatrice. “Does Pig Latin count as a language?”

  Kate cocked her head to the side, considering. “As a rule—I’d say no.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Beatrice said. She wasn’t even sure why she’d asked.

  Kate took a step toward Beatrice, her face softening. “But I could think about it.”

  “Maybe you should come up here while you think.” Beatrice patted the mattress and scooted over to make room. “I highly recommend it.”

  Kate laughed and climbed the ladder to join her.

  “Whoa,” said Kate. “Head rush.” She rubbed her temples. “From now on, I’ll leave the upside down thinking to you. But this did speed up my decision.”

  “Wow, that was fast—what’s the verdict?”

  “I-yay an-cay end-bay e-thay ules-ray or-fay ou-yay.”

  Beatrice couldn’t believe her ears, so she clarified it, just to be sure. “Did you just say you’d bend the rules for me? In Pig Latin?”

  Kate’s face turned red. “Aybe-may,” she said.

  “Girls! We’re home!” Nancy Zinker called from the kitchen.

  Beatrice flipped to the ground. “So Pig Latin counts?”

  “Dinner’s ready!” Pete Zinker announced.

  “That’s what I said,” Kate confirmed. “You and your language are in—if you want to be.” Kate struggled to sit up. “A little help here, please?”

  Beatrice reached over her head and rotated her sister right side up.

  Kate blinked her eyes, struggling to adjust. “You really think better like that?”

  “Like magic,” Beatrice told her. “Every single time.”

  Pete and Nancy Zinker were waiting at the bottom of the stairs when Beatrice came down. Funny looks stretched across their faces. Beatrice turned from one to the other. “What’s going on?” she asked her mother.

  Nancy Zinker smiled at her daughter. “We heard about your day,” she told her. “Are you really okay?” She inspected Beatrice’s nose while Beatrice nodded her head. Smoothing Beatrice’s hair, she said, “Your father had an idea.”

  Beatrice peeked over their shoulders. The table was set and the good china was out, but the kitchen did not smell like dinner.

  Her dad wrapped her in a giant hug. “I thought we should eat dessert first tonight,” he said. “Beatrice-style!”

  Nancy Zinker held up a finger and qualified, “Just this once.”

  There was no dinner, but the plates weren’t empty.

  “Oh là là,” Kate gasped behind her. “So fancy.”

  Beatrice dropped into her seat, smiling at her plate. Like Lenny earlier, she didn’t know what to say.

  “If you aren’t going to eat it, I sure will,” her dad said. He raised his fork and saluted her. “To Beatrice!”

  Beatrice scooped up a huge helping and closed her eyes. “Wow,” she said.

  It was the only word for it.

  “Wow indeed,” declared her father, digging in. “Almost as good as bacon.”

  “Kaka!” Henry cheered, smashing a huge handful on his head.

  Nancy Zinker clapped her hands together. “He said cake!”

  Pete Zinker set down his fork. “He sure did!”

  “In Icelandic!” said Kate.

  Nancy Zinker rushed for the camera.

  “Bon appétit!” Kate shouted as the flash went off.

  “Bon appétit!” everyone agreed.

  Beatrice wanted to memorize this moment.

  Not everything in her life was a piece of cake—but tonight, the Zinkers were eating cake for dinner. And tomorrow, if all went according to plan, Operation Upside would surprise another winner.

  All because of a green-glasses-girl and
an upside down thinker.

  Words seem ridiculously inadequate to express my gratitude for all the people who have helped Beatrice meet the world.

  Nevertheless:

  Endless thanks, exclamation points, and happy tears for my kind and wonderful editor, Rotem Moscovich. Thank you for believing in Beatrice, and for all the ways you spoke into the story and made it better. I am so grateful. Many thanks to Phil Caminiti for the book design, to Greg Pizzoli for sharing his technical knowledge, and to the entire team of amazing people at Disney Hyperion.

  To my agent, Stephen Barr—thank you for seeing more in me, and in Beatrice, than I did myself, and for pointing the way with genius, patience, and fun. This book would not exist without you. It’s a tremendous gift to experience all the upsides of knowing you.

  Thanks to Angharad Kowal, Cecilia de la Campa, Nikoline Nordfred Eriksen, and everyone else at Writers House, for your enthusiasm on Beatrice’s behalf.

  Thank you to the family and friends who encouraged me along the way. Your support means more than I can say, and I love you all. A special thank-you to my friends at the Target Starbucks who gave me the happiest place to write every day.

  To my three favorite people: Bob, Matthew, and Nolan—thanks for being your wonderful selves, and the very best part of my life. “Aren’t we lucky?”

  SHELLEY JOHANNES previously spent ten years in architecture—where she fell in love with felt-tip pens, tracing paper, and the greatness of black turtlenecks. She lives in Michigan with her husband and two sons. Beatrice Zinker, Upside Down Thinker is the first book she’s written. Find her online at shelleyjohannes.com.