Monkey Business (16 page)

Pretty soon we were up to our elbows in yarn and sequins and googly eyes and socks.

We listened to the new Katy Perry album from Claire's computer, heads bent over our sewing. And for the first time in a while I felt hopeful about the Panda Parade—as opposed to scared that we wouldn't be able to raise the cash in time.

“I love how we're all working like there's no tomorrow,” said Claire.

“That expression actually makes no sense whatsoever,” said Emma. “We're working like there is a tomorrow—a tomorrow where our sock puppets are going to be in huge demand.”

“Lucky for us,” I said.

“I can't believe we had to suffer through two failed businesses for this,” said Rachel.

“You know what they say,” said Emma as she glued an eye onto her aardvark puppet. “Third time's a charm.”

We worked in silence for a while, and I was happy to see that the next few puppets came easily to me. I made a baby lion with an orange-and-yellow mane, an elephant wearing a red jumper, and a dalmatian puppy.

An hour later Claire's mom Mollie came into the dining room and said, “You girls are working so hard! If it's okay with your parents, may I take you all out to dinner?”

“We really shouldn't stop,” said Emma. “We've got a lot of work to do.”

“But we can't sew on an empty stomach,” said Rachel. “I'm going to text my mom and ask for permission.”

“Good idea. Me too,” I said as I pulled out my phone.

“You got an iPhone!” said Rachel. Except from the harsh tone of her voice, she sounded more like she was accusing me of something horrible.

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. This was the exact conversation I was hoping to avoid—I didn't even realize that I'd been hiding my new phone from her since I got it. But I kind of had been—subconsciously, I suppose.

“It's not new. It's actually pretty old. Ted gave me his old one when he upgraded to the latest model.”

Rachel looked down at her phone and sort of pouted as she said, “Of course he did.”

I didn't say anything as I texted my mom, but I was plenty annoyed. I knew what Rachel was thinking and it wasn't fair. Why'd she have to make me feel bad for every new thing I got? And why'd she have to ruin our perfectly good afternoon?

I didn't ask her any of this out loud because I didn't want to fight. Instead I tried to pretend she'd never even said a word about my phone. That's how everyone else was acting.

Once we had all gotten permission, we piled into Claire's mom's minivan. I sat as far from Rachel as possible. Both of us stayed pretty quiet while the rest of our friends chatted on the drive over to the Round Table.

As we walked toward the restaurant, we passed by a toy store called Play Matters. The window displayed tons of cool-looking toys—a fancy wooden train track, some robots, and a bunch of vintage-looking toy airplanes.

“Oh, I used to love that place,” said Claire. “My grandma would take me there whenever she visited.”

Emma paused in front of the store and stared into the window. “Mine too. Hey, I just had an idea,” she said, heading into the store and calling, “I'll be right back.”

We all watched through the window as she took a puppet out of her backpack and showed it to the woman working behind the counter. They talked for a while, and then a few minutes later Emma came out with a huge smile on her face.

“What's that about?” I asked.

“Play Matters has agreed to sell our puppets!”

“No way!” I said.

“Way!” Emma replied. “The manager said she liked my spirit and enthusiasm, so she's agreed to take five of them to see how they do.”

“That's, like, a real store!” Yumi said.

“It sure is,” said Emma.

Claire raised her hand. “High five!”

“Panda Parade here we come!” Yumi cheered.

The sock puppet sale scene on Friday was even more frenzied than on day one. Word had definitely gotten out, and we sold our entire supply before the first homeroom bell. By lunchtime, kids were clamoring for more sock puppets.

“When are you going to have more?” asked Isabel from my English class.

“Monday morning,” said Claire.

“Okay, but how can you make sure I get a bunch before they sell out?” asked Hannah. Her cousin loved the sock puppet so much, apparently, he'd asked for three more so he could have a whole sock puppet family.

“We can't,” said Emma. “You've gotta make sure you beat the crowd.”

“This is so super-stressful!” said Hannah.

“I'll save you a few,” I whispered to her. “Just don't tell anyone else.”

Hannah gave me a thumbs-up and walked away.

Meanwhile a few seventh graders made their way
over to our table and asked if we were the geniuses behind the sock puppets.

“Yup,” said Claire. “And these geniuses need to eat lunch. We'll have a bunch more next week. Promise.”

The rest of us giggled as the seventh-graders walked away.

“You guys, this is crazy!” said Emma.

“Crazy brilliant,” said Claire.

We had yet another crafting session in Claire's dining room that afternoon. And the next day too. And after that we ran out of supplies, so we had to hit the art supply store for more bling, as well as the department store for more socks. Luckily, Claire's mom was available to drive us to the mall first thing Sunday morning.

“Don't we have enough money for tickets yet?” Rachel asked as we piled into the minivan. “We've sold more than a hundred puppets, right?”

“Yeah,” said Emma. “So that makes six hundred dollars of pure profit, but now we've got to reinvest and spend money on supplies so we can keep things up.”

“Just make sure we don't spend too much,” said Rachel.

“I won't,” said Emma, opening up her notebook to do some math equations. “I already figured things out. If we spend an average of two dollars and fifty cents on materials, that means our profit is three dollars and fifty cents per puppet, which is still pretty awesome. All we need is for the next two weeks to be good as last week.”

Just then Emma looked down at her ringing cell phone. “Hold on a second. I've gotta take this call.”

Claire looked at me with raised eyebrows, and I shrugged. Then we eavesdropped on Emma's end of the conversation.

“Okay, you want three monkeys and six more dogs and another rabbit? Just one? Any color preferences?” Emma asked, cradling her phone between her head and her shoulder as she jotted down some notes in her notebook.

After she hung up she retied her ponytail. “These orders are really stacking up.”

“That's cool,” said Claire. “But when did we agree to do custom puppets?”

Emma frowned at Claire. “We didn't, exactly, but these are for Play Matters, the toy store by the pizza place.”

“I remember,” said Claire. “Are you telling me they sold out?”

“Yup,” said Emma. “And now they want twenty more for their window display.”

“But that'll take us hours,” said Yumi. “How are we going to do that and make enough puppets for school?”

“We'll figure it out,” I said. “We have all weekend.”

“And here we are,” Claire added as her mom pulled up to the entrance to the mall.

“Is an hour enough time for you girls?” Mollie asked.

“Should be,” said Claire.

“I'll meet you all right here by these front doors. Claire, keep your phone on. I will be calling if you're late.”

“Got it!” said Claire, saluting her mom.

“And stick together!” Mollie added.

The five of us climbed out of the van and hit Zingerman's Art Supplies first. I'd never been, and walking into the store was a shock in the best possible sense.

“I've never seen so much color in one place,” I said as Yumi took a shopping cart.

“I know,” said Claire, grabbing my hand. “Come with me. I want to show you my favorite aisle.”

We all jogged to keep up and ended up surrounded by more sequins than I knew existed in the state of California.

“There are ten different shades of green sparkly sequins,” said Claire. “And I want every single one!”

“Look, Dodger Blue is actually the official name of this shade,” said Yumi, excitedly throwing some paint into our cart.

“Don't forget the puffy paint,” said Rachel, throwing in an entire set.

Claire settled on five shades of green and we got plenty of other sequins too. And buttons and random scraps of fabric and yarn, and we even sprung for a glue gun.

When we got to the cash register, we were shocked at the total. Everything added up to more than a hundred dollars.

“Are you sure we should spend this much?” Rachel whispered to Emma.

Emma shrugged. “You've got to spend money to make money, right?”

She handed over the cash and then we hit Target to load up on socks.

As amazing as I thought our first few batches of sock puppets were, I had to admit the ones that came later were truly spectacular. There was Raymond, the purple monkey with electric blue eyes; Chantelle, the poodle with rainbow bows on her ears; and Cobalt, a construction worker who tied his long black curls back with a red bandanna.

Two weeks into our launch, kids at Birchwood Middle School were still crazy for our sock puppets. Some days we brought ten to school and some days we brought twenty. On Friday, one of our nautical-themed sailor puppets lost an eye in transit. It didn't matter—we still sold out!

We spent another Saturday stocking up on supplies and then crafting.

At some point I lost count of how many sock puppets we'd all made. It seemed like hundreds. Everyone we knew had at least one. And people wanted more.

“Can we really still call these emergency crafting
sessions?” asked Claire. “Considering that we seem to have one every single day.”

“You make a really good point,” said Emma.

“I think we need an emergency vacation day,” said Rachel.

“We're taking the day off for my birthday this weekend, right?” I asked.

“Omigosh, I can't believe you're finally turning twelve,” said Yumi.

“Don't worry, Annabelle. We won't be crafting next Saturday. It's in the schedule.”

I laughed. “Glad you could fit my birthday into your busy schedule.”

“So am I!” Emma replied, totally serious.

Claire threw a fluffy teddy-bear-in-a-clown-suit sock puppet at her. “She was being sarcastic.”

“Oh,” said Emma. “Right. I totally knew that. I was just joking.”

“Way to make me feel special on my birthday,” I said.

“Hey, it's not your birthday yet,” Emma reminded me.

“I'm glad it's soon,” said Yumi. “I definitely need a day off.”

“I know,” I said. “I used to look forward to getting out of school, but lately I dread it because there's so much work to be done.”

“Every time I think about sock puppets, my hands hurt,” said Rachel.

“My back aches from being hunched over all the time,” said Yumi. “We must have enough money for the tickets by now. Right, Emma?”

“Not quite,” said Emma.

“Well, we must be close at least,” said Rachel.

“I hope so,” said Claire. “Because just looking at this pile of fabric scraps is making me sick. I'm so ready to retire.”

“When can we buy our concert tickets?” asked Yumi. “Every time we ask, you avoid the question.”

This was true. Emma had been keeping careful records of each puppet and each sale from the moment we launched our business. She had an entire notebook devoted to the project, but she wouldn't show us what was inside. “I want to really wow you guys, and I'm waiting for the right time,” Emma said.

The rest of us stopped what we were doing and looked up at her.

“I think now is the right time,” said Claire.

“I agree,” said Rachel.

Emma sighed and opened up her notebook, flipping to the right page.

“We're definitely close but we're not there yet. The problem is every time we buy new supplies, we end up spending more money. But if we make the stuff we have last, we'll only need to make and sell fifteen more puppets for the tickets and travel expenses,” said Emma.

“That's nothing!” said Claire. “We can do that tomorrow.”

“Wait,” said Emma. “There's a better option. If we sell forty more, we'll have enough cash for T-shirts, too.”

“We've never sold forty,” said Claire. “It makes me nervous. I don't even know forty kids who don't already have our puppets.”

“People are doubling up,” said Yumi.

“But do you think they'll triple up?”

“I don't see why not,” said Emma. “And I've been thinking about strategy. Do you remember when the last iPad came out, how there was a big shortage and people were lining up for hours at the Apple store hoping to get one? And there were wait lists and everything?”