Ivy and Bean and the Ghost That Had to Go (6 page)

“I’d freak. Was she scared?” asked Bean.

“Grandma says the only thing she’s scared of is chickens, but I think she’s joking. I wish I’d been there,” said Ivy. “I would have asked it why it was haunting the house.”

Bean stared at her hand in the water tub. It looked ghostly. “I bet ghosts are scared of themselves. It must be weird to look down and see through yourself.”

Ivy looked at her. “Maybe. Maybe Grandma’s ghost whistled because it was trying to cheer itself up.” She went back to looking at her book, and the magic lab was quiet for a minute or two. “Hey!” she said suddenly. “Here’s something that could work.
It’s a potion that you pour in front of your house to keep evil spirits away.”

Bean was feeling sorry for the ghost now. “But it’s not an evil spirit,” she argued. “It just wants the school to get off its grave. The ghost was there first. First come, first served.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Ivy agreed. “But the ghost has got to go. Ms. Aruba-Tate said. And besides, we’ll be doing a good deed for the ghost, in a way. Don’t you think it would rather be in its grave?”

Bean thought. “I guess so. That bathroom is nasty.”

“Right. So here’s what we’ll do,” Ivy leaned over the tinfoil, “we’ll make a ceremony. We’ll tell it that we know it’s not evil. We’ll tell it that we just want it to rest peacefully. We’ll tell it—”

“That we come as friends,” Bean said, bouncing in her chair.

“We could chant,” said Ivy. “
We come as friends
,” she chanted.

“
We come in peace
,” chanted Bean. “A dance might be good, too,” she added.

“Once it goes back to its grave, we’ll pour the potion around the edges of the bathroom so it can’t come back,” Ivy said.

“Sounds good,” said Bean. She thought for a minute. “Hey, I have an idea. You know the Egyptians?”

Ivy nodded. “Yeah?”

“They used to put presents in the grave with the dead person. Stuff to play with. And money. We should do that.” Presents would make the ceremony even better.

“Presents,” Ivy repeated. “That’s a great idea. It’ll be like an ancient burial.” Suddenly, she stood up. “But first we need to make the potion.”

“BEAN!”

“She sounds like one of those screaming monkeys,” said Ivy, stirring.

“She looks like one, too,” said Bean. “Do we need more rosemary?”

“Sure,” Ivy said. “Put some more in.”

“BEAN! YOU’VE GOT TO COME HOME NOW! MOM SAYS.”

“She’s too lazy to walk across the street,” said Bean. “My mom tells her to go get me, and she just stands on the porch and screams.”

“She’s lazy,” Ivy agreed. She looked at the jars on her shelf. She had a little bit of nutmeg, and a lot of seeds she had found in the backyard. She had some dead bugs. She had plenty of baking soda. The problem with making potions from her magic book was that she never had exactly the right ingredients. Sometimes she didn’t even know what they were. The keeping-away-evil-spirits potion had an ingredient called “ponie.” Ivy didn’t think they meant a real pony. She didn’t have a pony, anyway. “I think we should put in some more baking soda,” she said.

“BEAN! YOU HAD BETTER NOT MAKE ME COME GET YOU!”

Bean opened Ivy’s window and leaned out. Nancy was standing on the porch, her face red from screaming. “I’ll be there in a minute!” Bean said in her regular voice.

“WHAT?” screeched Nancy.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Bean called a little louder.

“There’s one more thing we need,” said Ivy, looking at the book again. She giggled.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU, BUT YOU’D BETTER GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW OR YOU’LL BE SORRY.”

“I’M ALREADY SORRY ABOUT HOW STUPID YOU LOOK IN THOSE SHORTS!” Bean bellowed.

There was a tiny silence, and then Bean’s front door banged shut. Nancy was going to tell their mom.

“Sheesh,” said Bean. “She’s so touchy. But I guess I should go home. My mom will be mad if she has to come get me.”

“Okay,” said Ivy. “I can do the rest by myself. But you have to get the last ingredient.” She giggled again. “It’s the most important one.”

“What is it?” said Bean, looking around for her shoes.

“The hair of an enemy,” said Ivy.

A big grin spread over Bean’s face. “How much?”

“Not much.” Ivy said. “Just a handful.”

They looked at each other and began to laugh.

When Bean woke up, it was dark. She sat up and peered out the window. Wow, she thought. I did it. Outside, a streetlight shone down on a car and the empty sidewalk. Everyone was asleep. Even though she hadn’t really expected to wake up in the
middle of the night, Bean had placed a pair of scissors on the table beside her bed. She took hold of them, pointy end down, and began the tiptoe walk down the hall to Nancy’s room.

It was funny to be awake when her parents weren’t. There were shadows wavering on the walls. Bean began to feel a little scared. It wasn’t that she was scared she’d get caught. It was more scary not to be caught. How could her parents not know that she was up?

Nancy liked her door closed at night. Bean had always thought that was weird. But now it was just plain annoying, because Bean had to open the door without making a sound. Very, very slowly, she turned the knob. Quietly, quietly, she pushed the door. It gave one sharp creak and then swung open.

Nancy kept her door closed, but she kept her curtain open. This was very handy, because the streetlight coming in the open window gave Bean enough light to see. Nancy was rolled into a ball under her blanket, and her long brown hair was spilled out over her pillow. Every once in a while, she gave a long, sniffy breath. Bean almost laughed. This was going to be easy-peasy.

But it wasn’t as easy as she thought. Bean stood over Nancy’s bed for a long time. She could have cut almost all of Nancy’s hair off. It was lying right
there. But Bean knew she wasn’t going to do that. That would be meaner than anything she had ever done. And besides, she’d get caught. No, what Bean had to decide was whether she wanted Nancy to know her hair had been cut. If Bean took one piece and cut it way up near Nancy’s head, it could be a couple of weeks before she noticed it, but then it would bug her for a long time. On the other hand, if Bean just trimmed off a little all the way across the bottom, Nancy probably wouldn’t notice at all.