Two Peas in a Pod Read online

  “Might as well,” I say.

  As we walk, Jonah keeps craning his neck and looking up at the sky.

  “Uh, Jonah? First of all, watch where you’re going or you’re going to trip,” I say. “Second of all, what are you looking for?”

  “A beanstalk,” he says.

  I roll my eyes. Of course he is. My little brother is OBSESSED with Jack and the Beanstalk. We haven’t gone into that fairy tale yet, but he is always hoping we will.

  “Well, I don’t see a farm or a cow or a beanstalk or a giant,” I say. “But let’s keep walking.”

  Jonah’s face brightens. Prince scampers ahead of us. The rain has let up and now it’s just very warm and humid.

  Jonah reaches into his hoodie pocket and pops an M&M into his mouth. “Want one?” he asks. “You already ate all the blue ones. I only have a few left.”

  “Let’s not waste them,” I say. “We might be starving in a few hours.”

  I spot a muddy body of water to our left. There are toads, lizards, and weird-looking insects crawling all over the low green bushes beside it.

  Eek.

  “I think that’s a swamp,” I tell Jonah.

  “What’s a swamp?” Jonah asks.

  I try to remember what we learned about swamps at school. “I’m pretty sure they’re flooded areas of land. And when rivers and lakes overflow from rain, you get a swamp.”

  Jonah’s shoulders slump. “I’m guessing there are no swamps in Jack and the Beanstalk?”

  “I don’t think so,” I say. “Sorry.”

  Jonah kicks at a pebble. “But at least now I know what story we ARE in.”

  I raise an eyebrow. How could he know?

  “Which one?” I ask.

  “The one that has a swamp in it!” he says, and looks very pleased with himself.

  “Oh, THAT one,” I say with a laugh, and shake my head. Little brothers.

  I try to remember all the fairy tales my nana read us before we moved to Smithville. “I can’t think of any fairy tales with a swamp.”

  Jonah scrunches up his face. He looks like he’s about to suggest something — probably Jack and the Beanstalk again — when we hear Prince let out a weird, low growl. He’s come to a stop ahead of us, his ears pricked up and his little body tense.

  Grr-woof! Grr-woof! Our dog is growling at something near the swamp’s edge.

  “What’s wrong, Prince?” Jonah asks, taking a step closer to the swamp.

  Growl-woof! Growl-woof! Prince barks again.

  And then Prince does something really strange. He slinks down like he’s afraid, and lets out a whine.

  Jonah and I stare at each other.

  What. Is. Out. There???

  And then I see it.

  Big. Yellow. Eyes.

  Pointy. White. Teeth.

  A super-long, super-big slithering green body.

  “ALLIGATOR!” I shout at the top of my lungs.

  YEP. Just a few feet away, coming out of the swamp onto the grass, is a massive green alligator.

  AHHHH!

  Why are we standing here waiting for it to eat us?

  “Run, Jonah,” I cry. “Run!”

  Jonah and I take off, with Prince right on our heels, whimpering and barking.

  We run through puddles, following the path. My heart is racing. “Are alligators fast?” I ask. “Probably not, right? Because they have such small feet?”

  “Actually,” Jonah says, “they can run like thirty miles an hour! I read a book about them!”

  Great. Just great.

  I dare a look behind us as we keep running. I don’t spot the gator, but that doesn’t mean it’s not slithering along the high grass, hungry and waiting to eat us.

  Jonah is breathing hard as he runs next to me. “Hey, Abby — is that a light up ahead?” he pants.

  I have no idea because I’ve been running with my head turned back, looking for the gator.

  But when I glance in front of me, I see there is a light, the kind that comes from a window where someone is awake. Hopefully, a non-alligator someone.

  “Let’s go, let’s go!” I cry.

  A castle comes into view. It’s huge and made of stone and has a bunch of turrets. The light seems to be coming from one of its many windows. A moat surrounds the castle, and I can see that the moat is connected to the swamp.

  I have no clue what story we’re in. Or who lives in this castle.

  What I DO know? That a humongous alligator is hot on our tail. So best to keep going.

  Jonah, Prince, and I race across a short drawbridge over the moat, to the castle’s arched entrance. I raise my hand and pound on the door. Another light comes on inside. I hear footsteps. I hear someone unlocking the door.

  In the real world, I would never knock on a strange door in the middle of the night. But what choice do I have? There’s an alligator after me!

  I hold my breath as the door opens.

  The girl standing there is wearing a green dress and a white apron. She has shoulder-length straight brown hair, brown eyes, and a few freckles across her nose. I think she’s a couple of years older than I am.

  She doesn’t say anything.

  Is she waiting for me to speak?

  Um, probably. I am the stranger at the door.

  “Hi!” I rush to say. “I’m Abby and this is my brother, Jonah, and that’s our dog, Prince. Can we come in? We’re lost and soaking wet and we’re being chased by a giant alligator!”

  She bites her lip and says something so quietly that I can’t hear her.

  “Excuse me?” I ask her, leaning closer while glancing all around to make sure the alligator isn’t behind us. I don’t see it. For now.

  “Come in,” the girl says, a bit louder, opening the door wider.

  Whew.

  We hurry in and she shuts the door. For a moment, I’m so relieved that I forget everything else. Like being in a castle with who knows who, who knows where, about to face who knows what.

  “Please wait here,” the girl says. “I’ll be right back.”

  At least that’s what I think she says. She half mumbled it and was looking down as she said it.

  I watch the girl dart down the hall, knock on a door, and go inside.

  It’s much cooler in here, which is nice after the humidity. I take a look around. The castle’s decor is very modern, with white leather couches and a pink-and-purple rug. Ooh — there’s a clock on the wall. It’s one A.M. I glance down at my wrist. According to my watch, the time at home is 12:06 A.M.

  It feels like at least an hour has passed since we went through the mirror. Does that mean that every minute at home is ten minutes here? I’ll have to keep an eye on the clock and on my watch to make sure.

  “Do you think that girl went to get the royals who live here?” Jonah asks me.

  “Maybe,” I say. Prince has wandered over to the rug and is starting to gnaw on its tassel. I stop him.

  “Um, Abby?” Jonah adds. “No offense but …”

  I narrow my eyes at my brother. “But what?”

  Jonah is trying to keep himself from bursting out laughing. “You should really fix your hair if we’re about to meet a princess. You look like you stuck your finger in an electric socket.”

  I reach up to touch my curly brown hair. It’s gotten huge and puffy from the humidity. It must be a frizzy mess.

  “You should see yours,” I say, nodding toward the giant curly mop on my brother’s head.

  Jonah grins. “We look like swamp creatures!”

  Before I can try to find a mirror and fix my hair, the door down the hall opens. An older man and woman, both around my nana’s age, come out. The girl who let us in is behind them.

  “Hello, children!” the woman says. She has black-gray hair pulled back into a bun, dark skin, and warm brown eyes. She’s wearing a long, green velvet bathrobe, and a pair of fur slippers. “My name is Minerva and this is my husband, Lawrence.”

  Lawrence gives us a big smile. He’s
short and has thick silver hair and dark skin. He’s wearing the same kind of bathrobe as his wife, long and green, and the same fur slippers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lawrence says. “Belly here says you got lost and that an alligator was after you?”

  Belly? I glance behind Lawrence and Minerva. The girl who let us in is biting her lip again and looks at the ground.

  “Belly is one of the castle’s best maids,” Minerva says, patting the girl on the shoulder. “Belly, why don’t you go to the kitchen and fetch a snack for our guests.”

  “And two of our fluffiest towels,” Lawrence adds. “Abby and Jonah look soaked to the bone.”

  “We are!” Jonah says. “If I shake my head, I could spray you like Prince does after we give him a bath.”

  Minerva and Lawrence laugh like that’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. They seem truly happy that we’re here. Maybe they don’t get a lot of guests? Or maybe the alligator eats most of the would-be visitors before they can ever make it to the castle.

  “And you, Abby? Are you feeling frail at all?” Minerva asks me intently.

  Frail? I shrug. I guess I am a little shaken up from that alligator chase. And wet from the rain.

  “It would be nice to dry off,” I say.

  Lawrence and Minerva smile at me. They’re smiling as if I’ve done something amazing like bake a cake or cure cancer.

  Not that baking a cake is as impressive as curing cancer. Obviously.

  I smile back and then glance away. When I look at them again, they’re still smiling — and staring.

  Not at Jonah. Not at Prince.

  At me.

  They start whispering to each other. Lawrence points at me. Minerva nods.

  More whispering. More smiling and staring.

  Is it the giant frizz puff on my head?

  “They’re being weird,” I whisper to Jonah.

  Woof, Prince barks, clearly in agreement.

  I’m about to ask Lawrence and Minerva — politely — what they’re talking about, when Belly returns. She’s wheeling a cart that contains a tray of cookies, a pitcher of milk, two cups, and a stack of thick towels.

  Belly drapes a warm towel around me and then one around Jonah. I use the edge to dry my face. Ahhh. That feels good. And I do like cookies …

  “Are those chocolate chip?” Jonah says, eyeing the tray. “Please tell me they’re not raisin cookies.”

  “Yes! Chocolate chip!” Minerva says with a grin. “We have a wonderful baker. Enjoy your snack, children. And when you’re done, I’ll show you to your room. I assume you need a place to stay for the night?”

  “Belly, please go set up their room,” Lawrence adds.

  Minerva whispers something to Belly, who nods, glances at me, and scurries away.

  Weird.

  “Abby, can we stay?” Jonah asks me, his mouth already full of chocolate-chip cookie. “I’m really tired. Pretty please?”

  Hmmm. I’m tired, too. And Lawrence and Minerva seem very kind. But I’d like to know more about where we are, to make sure this is a safe place for us.

  “Is this your castle?” I ask, reaching for a cookie and taking a bite. Mmmm. Incredibly good. I devour the cookie and pour myself a glass of milk. Yum. So cold and delicious. Jonah has already scarfed down three cookies and has a milk mustache. I give him a nudge and he licks it away.

  “Does Jack live here?” Jonah asks hopefully.

  I swallow a laugh.

  “Jack?” Minerva repeats. “Who’s Jack? Only Lawrence and I live here with the castle staff.”

  “Are you the king and queen?” Jonah asks, biting into a fourth cookie. He uses his towel to wipe off the crumbs.

  “Oh, goodness, no,” Lawrence says. “Sadly, the king passed away recently. And the queen died many years ago. I was the king’s advisor.”

  “What does an advisor do?” Jonah asks, sipping more milk.

  “It was my job to help the king make important decisions about the kingdom of Bog,” Lawrence explains, which reminds me of the carnival for a moment. I push the thought away.

  “Bog?” I repeat.

  Lawrence smiles. “Yes. Bog. As in, a flooded area. There are many swamps and rivers here, and the ocean is off on the far side of the kingdom. With all the rain, the bodies of water flood often. Brings out the gators.”

  There’s more than one?

  I swallow hard.

  “We don’t have to go back out there, do we, Abby?” Jonah asks, glancing out the window.

  “We do have a very comfortable room for you,” Minerva pipes up, “with a closet full of dry clothes.”

  Dry clothes sound amazing right now. Do we have enough time to stay overnight, though? We have to be back in Smithville by seven A.M. so our parents find us in our beds.

  I look at my watch again. It says 12:07 now. Then I look up at the clock on the wall. It’s now 1:10. So yes — every minute at home is ten minutes here. Every hour at home is ten hours here. Which means we can stay here for almost three days.

  Plenty of time NOT to think about the carnival back home.

  Prince lets out a bark, and Lawrence smiles down at him.

  “If you stay,” Lawrence tells us, “we’ll make sure that Belly puts aside a bone for your dog’s breakfast in the morning.”

  Aw, that’s thoughtful.

  “All right,” I say to our hosts. “We’ll stay. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Fantastic!” Minerva exclaims. “Follow me.”

  “I will see you in the morning, children,” Lawrence says, turning to go. “Good night.”

  “Good night!” Jonah says. “Thanks for the snack! And thank the baker for not making raisin cookies.”

  Lawrence laughs and heads back into his room. Minerva starts leading us up the grand staircase. “C’mon, Prince,” I say, and he follows behind.

  There are many doors on the second floor, but only one with pink-and-purple stripes on it. That’s the one Minerva opens.

  “Here you are, children,” Minerva says. “You’ll find pajamas in the bottom drawer of the dressers.”

  We step inside and I gasp.

  Smack in the middle of the very fancy room are two beds. Two GIANT beds. Each one has a ton of mattresses piled on top. Like a hundred. I very quickly count by twos. There ARE a hundred mattresses exactly! On each bed! Way up top I see a pink quilt and fluffy pillows.

  Jonah won’t have any trouble climbing up his mattresses — he’s a champion climber. But how am I supposed to get up to the top of my bed?

  I freeze.

  Wait a minute. Hold up.

  A castle. A bed with one hundred mattresses.

  OMG!

  We’re in The Princess and the Pea!

  I wait until Minerva has wished us good night and left the room before I turn to Jonah.

  “I know what fairy tale we’re in!” I exclaim. “Don’t you?”

  Jonah shakes his head. I roll my eyes.

  “Don’t you remember Nana reading us The Princess and the Pea?” I ask.

  Jonah wrinkles his nose. “I hate peas. They’re mushy.”

  “I totally agree. But according to the story, a real princess is able to feel a pea that’s under the bottom mattress even though there are a ton of mattresses piled on top of it.”

  Jonah scrunches up his face. “How is that possible? It would be totally squashed. Unless it’s a frozen pea. Is it a frozen pea?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. But in the story, a girl claiming to be a princess felt the pea. And that’s how everyone knew she was truly a princess.”

  “But why would anyone care if she could feel a pea?” Jonah argues. “I sat on a string bean at dinner last night and didn’t even say anything. I just peeled it off my pants.”

  I laugh. “Should I tell you the whole story?”

  “Yes, peas.”

  “Okay. So a prince wanted to marry a princess — but only a real princess. And he couldn’t find one. One rainy night, a girl came to his
castle, seeking shelter from the storm. She claimed to be a princess.”

  “Was she?” Jonah asks.

  “Well, his mother, the queen, wasn’t sure. So she decided to make the girl prove it.”

  “So the queen put a pea under the girl’s mattress to see if she could feel it?” Jonah asks.

  “The queen put the pea under the FIRST mattress — and then a whole bunch more mattresses on top. Only a real princess would be able to feel the tiny pea under all those mattresses.”

  “So in the morning, the girl said the bed was really uncomfortable?” Jonah asks.

  “Yup. She couldn’t sleep a wink. So they knew.”

  “And the prince found his princess,” Jonah says.

  “Right.”

  “Did the princess eat the pea for breakfast the next morning?” Jonah asks.

  “I doubt it,” I say. “That’s kind of disgusting.”

  He smiles. “Not if it had ketchup on it.”

  I sigh. My brother is obsessed with ketchup.

  There’s a knock on the door, and Belly pokes her head in the room.

  “It’s me, Belly. I’ve brought your ladders for you,” she says shyly.

  Ladders. Of course. That’s how I’ll be able to get up to the top of the bed.

  “Thanks,” I say as Belly comes inside holding two ladders.

  “I like your name,” Jonah tells her.

  Belly smiles. “My real name is Isabelle, but everyone calls me Belly for short.” She places a ladder at the end of each bed.

  “So, Belly,” I say. “Will we meet the prince in the morning?”

  She looks at me in total confusion. “What prince?”

  “Doesn’t a prince live here?” I ask. I mean, isn’t that why they have the mattresses set up like this? Just in case they have to test a princess?

  “No prince lives here,” she says.

  “Why are there beds with a hundred mattresses?” Jonah asks. “I mean, why not just one mattress per bed? Isn’t that the normal way?”

  My questions exactly. Thank you, Jonah.

  Belly bites her lip. “Tradition, I guess.”

  “Tradition?” I ask.

  “Because there’s so much flooding here in Bog,” Belly says. “If you’re up high, you won’t get wet. We give guests extra mattresses just in case. Bog is actually famous for its mattresses. Back when our dear departed king was young, he started a mattress factory. There are several mattress stores in the village. Even the people from the neighboring kingdom of Bug come here to buy their mattresses because the quality is so good.”