“I understand,” said Samantha.
“Of course you do,” said Buffy. “Everyone here is a complete fashion disaster like you. And my stars can’t learn their lines.”
“Stars?” asked Samantha. “When you say stars, you mean animals, right?”
She didn’t really care about her sister’s animals or stars, but she was going to have to listen, or she was never going to get off the phone and get back to finding Uncle Paul.
“They could be stars,” said Buffy. “If they’d only stop scratching themselves and start practicing my choreography.”
“Choreography,” said Samantha, trying to sound interested. “You’re trying to teach animals how to dance?”
“That’s only one of my problems,” Buffy answered. “We put the chameleons in front of a green screen, and now we can’t find them. And don’t even get me started on the Gila monster. I tried to put a cute little hat with a pink bow on its head…and it bit me! Fifteen times! I just sent the crew out shopping for Band-Aids. They have to find a lot of different colors to match all the outfits I’m going to wear to all the award ceremonies.”
Samantha glanced at her mother. Dr. Spinner was still pointing two fingers at her.
“You really think your movie is going to win awards?” Samantha asked into the phone.
“It would…if it weren’t so behind schedule,” Buffy continued. “We lost a week of filming because of the blizzard.”
“Blizzard?” asked Samantha. “In Southern California? In August?”
Samantha didn’t believe it. It sounded like another fake weather alert from the SNOW.
“It’s was horrible,” her sister explained. “We all had to stock up on shovels and warm clothes. There were salt trucks everywhere.”
“Sure,” said Samantha. “But did you actually see any clouds or precipitation?”
“No,” said Buffy. “But all of Hollywood stayed indoors because of the SCOW—the Southern California Outside Warning.”
Samantha heard Buffy sniffle several times, then a half dozen times more. She thought it sounded like Dennis, sniffing the floor in search of waffles, but she decided not to mention it. She wanted to hear if there were any clues about the SNOW.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Buffy continued. “Scarlett Hydrangea’s Wild, Wild Secret of the Nile still doesn’t have a real unicorn. The director rented a llama from Mali, but it’s not fooling anyone.”
“Mali?” asked Samantha. “Are you sure you don’t mean Lima?”
Samantha thought of her recent trip to Lima, Peru. Her brother had gotten attacked by a very angry llama near there. She was pretty sure there weren’t any llamas in Mali…in Africa—
“I don’t care,” said Buffy. “They glued a foam rubber horn onto the llama’s head. It’s really mad about it!”
Buffy was sniffling and breathing heavily, and Samantha hoped Buffy wasn’t going to start full-blown crying. That would make this phone call even longer for sure.
“It’s all so embarrassing!” Buffy wailed. “If I come back to dreary Seattle, I’m not even sure I’ll include it in my Unicorn-O-Pedia!”
“Unicorn-O-Pedia?” asked Samantha. This was new.
“Yes,” Buffy answered. “I’ve been working on it for a few years. I keep it by my bedside in my room, on my nightstand. When it’s done, I’m going to get it published. It will have a pink cover—no, a rainbow cover. And it will have sparkly gems and gold letters.”
“What is it, exactly?” asked Samantha.
“It’s my complete compendium of fabulousness,” said Buffy. “I figured that’s where you got the idea for that gloomy diary of yours. It’s kind of sweet, actually, when your little sister tries to copy you. You must really look up to me.”
“Copy you?” asked Samantha angrily. “I don’t copy…and I certainly don’t look up to you.”
“Of course, your version is filled with drab buildings and notes about crowded, smelly transportation,” said Buffy. “And all those dreary poems about Nelly McPepper. Dreary and pointless.”
“It’s not pointless,” said Samantha. “It’s a journal. I’m filling it with all the special things I’ve learned from Uncle Paul.”
“Oh, he’s helped me add some things, too,” said Buffy. “He told me it was important to include some special entries. Flip-flops and flannel. Plaid, pajamas, patterns.”
Samantha gasped. Had Uncle Paul left clues with Buffy about the pattern in the…
“Wait!” snapped Samantha, suddenly realizing what her sister had been doing. “You’ve been reading my journal?”
“You left it where anyone could read it,” said Buffy. “Under the shredded paper in the stable, inside your suitcase, wrapped in one of those hideous horizontal-striped shirts you always wear.”
When Samantha and Nipper had stayed in New York, they’d been forced to stay in her sister’s stables that were meant for unicorns.
“Buffy!” Samantha shouted into the phone.
“Black and white isn’t a good look for you, you know,” said Buffy. “Maybe you should order some custom fabric, like Uncle Paul.”
“Custom fabric?” Samantha asked. This was the first time she’d heard anything about custom fabric.
“Weren’t you listening?” asked Buffy. “Uncle Paul told me to write about plaid pajama patterns in my Unicorn-O-Pedia. Of course, he’s a total fashion disaster. I wish there were some way I could convince you to—”
“Stop,” said Samantha.
She turned to her mother. She had to get off this call and see what Uncle Paul had told Buffy to add to her silly unicorn journal.
“Mom!” she said. “Are Gila monsters poisonous?”
Dr. Spinner nodded.
“I’m handing you over to a real animal expert,” Samantha told her sister, and she held out the phone to her mom. “I think you better talk to Buffy, Mom.” she said. “Ask her about her lizard bites.”
Dr. Spinner took the phone from her, noticeably alarmed.
Samantha left the kitchen and raced up the stairs to Buffy’s room and checked her sister’s nightstand for a Unicorn-O-Pedia.
Samantha walked into Buffy’s bedroom and went right to her sister’s nightstand. She spotted a pink book that sparkled with gems and gold letters, just like Buffy had described.
“Volume two,” she said, reading the cover. “Jewelry to Sapphire.”
She sat down at the foot of her sister’s bed and opened the book. She flipped ahead to the words beginning with the letter P:
Pair
A set of two: More than one and less than three. A pair of siblings (a sister and a little baby brother, for example) can be very annoying. They tend to rattle on about their boring lives. A pair of rainbow unicorns, however, is the most beautiful thing in the world.
Pajamas
The clothes you wear at night when you go to bed. Or, if you are a fashion disaster, the clothes you wear outside during the day when you want to embarrass the other members of your family. Unicorns do not wear pajamas.
Pancakes
Round things that clowns throw when they are running around your theater and messing up your fabulous Broadway play. Unicorns prefer candy corn.
Pattern
An arrangement of shapes, such as squares or stripes. Some people order custom pattern material from local fabric stores. They might be hiding special information in the lines. Of course, that would just make the clothes look even more hideous. It would also take time away from shopping for unicorns.
Pegasus
A Pegasus is NOT a unicorn. A Pegasus is a smelly horse with wings. Remember that when you are out shopping for rainbow unicorns.
Peru
One of the places where llamas can be found. Some people might try to dress up a llama with a fake foam rubber horn and then try to convince yo
u that it’s a unicorn. Don’t be fooled!
Pirate
A person who waves a sword around and says things like “Arrrrr,” “Ahoy, Matey,” or “No, Buffy. There be no unicorns here.”
Pittsburgh
A city in Pennsylvania. They have a baseball team called the Pirates. Their mascot is not a unicorn.
Plaid
Squares and lines on cloth. Plaid clashes terribly with rainbow unicorns. See PATTERN….Or a fashion advisor!
Platinum
Unicorn horns and pirate swords scratch gold ceilings too easily. Platinum is a metal that provides extra protection.
Procrastinate
To put off something that you need to do right away. If you procrastinate going to school, your mother might get angry, cancel your Broadway play, and refuse to help you shop for unicorns.
Procrasti-Nate
An unreliable assistant who promises to help shop for unicorns but fails miserably. If he starts talking like a pirate and attacks your family, you’ll need a Komodo dragon to make him stop.
Pug
A little dog with a round, flat face. According to some people, pugs are heroes that always save the day when you really need help. Maybe they sense moments of greatness. Maybe they want to save their friends. Or maybe it’s because they are always trying to get a waffle, or a granola bar, or even some chocolate. Unicorns require less maintenance.
Purple
Purple is the worst possible color for a pair of sunglasses. Fashion disaster! Never, under any circumstances, put purple sunglasses on your rainbow unicorn. If someone is wearing a pair of spectacles with that color, there must be a reason. Maybe the hideous custom fabric patterns pre-ordered by “Flip-flop P. Wafflemaker” at Seattle Fabric Center look better viewed through purple lenses.
“The pattern is in the plaid,” murmured Samantha.
She closed the book and set it down on Buffy’s desk. Her heart was racing. If she could see the custom pattern in her uncle’s pajamas, she’d have a clue!
Samantha stood up, hurried to her own bedroom, and grabbed the purple sunglasses Uncle Paul had given her a few weeks ago. Then she headed downstairs to the kitchen.
She dialed the phone.
No one answered, so she left a message.
“Hi, Lainey. It’s me, Samantha,” she said. “I need you to meet me first thing in the morning…at Seattle Fabric Center….”
Lainey Jain was the other friend who had helped Samantha when Nipper had been lost in the kogelbaan. She was nearly as brilliant as Fiona Hill, but her expertise centered almost entirely on one topic: little brothers.
Lainey knew everything that kid brothers liked, said, ate, read, collected, broke, lost, interrupted, and did and didn’t pick up.
But that wasn’t why Samantha called Lainey this time. She just wanted a smart friend to help her figure out SNOW’s math wall…so she could get past it and find Uncle Paul!
* * *
—
When Samantha reached the Seattle Fabric Center the next day, Lainey was there, waiting for her outside on the street.
“Look at you,” said Lainey. “Still carrying that umbrella, even on a sunny day.”
“I’m so glad you got my message,” Samantha said, ignoring Lainey’s umbrella comment.
“I was home,” said Lainey. “I just couldn’t answer the phone. I was busy giving my chinchillas a dust bath.”
“Chinchillas?” asked Samantha. “Plural?”
Samantha had a ton of experience with more than one chinchilla. Nipper had ordered one gross of them a few weeks ago. It was super-annoying.
“Yes,” said Lainey. “My parents ordered one for me as a pet. I think they did it because they thought it would make up for me not having a sibling.”
Samantha nodded. She imagined Lainey pestered her parents with that fact all the time.
“But then a dozen chinchillas showed up at the house,” Lainey continued. “It’s fun, but it’s a ton of work.”
Samantha nodded sympathetically, then got down to business.
“I’m here because of something my sister, Buffy, told me about.”
“Your sister?” asked Lainey. “Isn’t she kind of your frenemy?”
Samantha thought about Buffy Spinner: Whiner. Whimperer. Former billionaire. Misguided moviemaker. Failed Broadway producer. Fashion critic. Younger-sister critic. Younger-sister tormenter. Shoe hoarder. Younger-sister insulter. Younger-sister—
“No,” Samantha answered. “She’s much more than a frenemy. I don’t think anyone’s invented the right word for it yet.”
She looked at the front door of Seattle Fabric Center. Last time she’d entered this place, it had been to get away from the ninjas of the Royal Academy of International Ninjas. Now she was heading back inside to find the pattern in the plaid.
Samantha reached for the door, but stopped when she saw a sign taped to the glass:
KNITTING WORKSHOP
SOLD OUT!
GLOVE AND PARKA PATTERNS
OUT OF STOCK!
DOGGIE SWEATER DESIGNS
DON’T ASK!
“Can you believe it?” asked Lainey. “All it takes is a mysterious warning, and people start preparing for an emergency that doesn’t make any sense.”
Samantha nodded. She agreed completely, but she wasn’t ready to tell Lainey what she had learned about the SNOW. She knew the time would come soon to tell her new friend everything about her uncle…and her Super-Secret Plans. But this wasn’t the time.
“Come on,” said Samantha, pushing open the door.
They headed to the front counter, where a woman sat, knitting busily.
“Hello,” said Samantha. “I’m here to pick up a custom order.”
“Name, please,” said the woman, without looking up.
“Flip-Flop P. Wafflemaker,” said Samantha.
“Who?” whispered Lainey.
“It’s a long story,” Samantha whispered back. “Trust me.”
“No problem,” the woman answered, setting down her knitting.
She opened a cabinet underneath the counter and began to search through it.
“Ah,” said the woman. “It’s right—” She stopped.
The woman was no longer looking in the cabinet, though. She was staring at Samantha’s umbrella.
“I’m sorry,” said the woman slowly. “There’s no order under that name.”
“What?” asked Lainey. “You were just about to—”
The woman moved her arms under the counter.
Bzzzzzzzzzzeerrrrrnnnnnt!
“What was that?” asked Lainey.
“Oh, that?” replied the clerk. “I’m doing some document shredding. You can’t be too careful with personal information these days.”
“I know,” said Lainey, getting distracted. “A lot of people have little brothers, and they love to snoop around in other people’s—”
“Wait,” Samantha said. “Are you sure there’s no custom plaid here?”
“I’m positive,” said the woman.
“Hold on!” Samantha interrupted. “Are you shredding the pattern I asked for?”
“Nope,” said the woman. “It turns out I was mistaken. I couldn’t find your pattern. This is just some old wrapping paper or a receipt or something that isn’t your custom plaid pattern.”
Samantha’s heart was racing. Her plan was falling apart. She had been about to get an important clue…and then the woman had shredded it!
“Could you please double-check for us?” Lainey asked.
The woman stood up.
“I’d love to,” she answered. “But we’re closing. There’s a big winter storm on the way.”
Lainey looked like she was about to argue, but Samantha touched her shoulder.
&nb
sp; “Forget it,” she said. “I can tell this will go nowhere.”
Samantha was tired. Her clue was shredded, and so was her chance of finding Uncle Paul. She didn’t want to spend another minute in the Seattle Fabric Center. She waved for Lainey to follow her and left the store.
“That was strange,” said Lainey as they walked back down Broadway, toward Aloha Street. “Do you think that woman shredded that paper to stop you from discovering something?”
“I think so,” said Samantha. “Or maybe not.”
This was another dead end.
“Nobody’s helping me these days,” said Samantha.
She made eye contact with Lainey.
“Except for you, of course,” she added.
They passed Coffee Mania. A sign in the window of the café said:
BLIZZARD SPECIAL:
DOUBLE YOUR FOAM—THEN RUN FOR HOME!
Samantha shook her head. Her hopes where shredded.
“I feel like Nelly McPepper,” said Samantha.
“Who?” Lainey asked.
“She was the girl my sister didn’t take to California,” said Samantha. “Because she wore white after Labor Day.”
“You’re not supposed to do that?” asked Lainey.
Samantha thought about it. She had to admit it was a silly rule.
“Well, in my sister’s world,” said Samantha, “it’s a major-league rule.”
“So,” said Lainey. “Is Nelly McPepper a friend of yours?”
Samantha Spinner and the Perplexing Pants Page 6