Beauty Queen Page 5

Jonah and I jump.

  “Sorry!” we hear Mr. Butler yell from the kitchen. “Just putting dishes away!”

  “It’s okay!” I call back. Then I look back at Jonah. “Come on,” I say to him. “You know we can’t stay.”

  “All right,” he says with a sigh, putting his hands in his pockets. “What should we do, then?”

  “We have to get Beauty and Mr. Beast to fall in love. That’s why I wanted them to be alone. Peek inside and see if they’re in love yet, will ya?”

  Jonah peeks inside.

  “I don’t think they’re in love yet,” he says.

  “How can you tell?”

  “Look for yourself.”

  I look in.

  Mr. Beast and Beauty are sitting on opposite ends of the couch.

  They are not talking. At all. She is looking at the window and he is looking in the opposite direction at a potted plant.

  Clearly, they will need some more help falling in love. Lots of help.

  I watch forlornly as Mr. Beast stands up from the couch and excuses himself. “I will see you all at nine o’clock for dinner,” he says before leaving.

  Beauty sighs.

  Jonah and I exchange a defeated look.

  Mrs. Butler appears and shows the three of us up a grand staircase and down a long hallway. “This is the guest wing,” she says.

  “A wing?” Jonah exclaims. “We get a whole wing?”

  “Yes, Jonah,” I say. “A whole wing.” It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a wing in a fairy tale. I’m excited to get to the room, though. I want to get settled so we can focus on making a plan. A plan that involves a list. I like lists.

  Our wing consists of a pretty sitting area that leads into three huge square bedrooms and one large marble bathroom with an extra-large soaking tub.

  Beauty goes into her room and looks out the window. “It’s very pretty. But we really are in the middle of nowhere. We’re even more in the middle of nowhere than my dad’s cottage.” She yawns. “Sorry. I’ve been up since five A.M.”

  “How come?” I ask.

  “Breakfast shift at Soup Kitchen,” she explains.

  “Why don’t you take a nap?” I ask.

  “A nap? I never have time to nap. After the breakfast shift, I have to go to Garbage Dump to help with the recycling.”

  “You have time now,” I say.

  She nods, looking pleased. “Okay. I will. Good suggestion.”

  I close her door and then follow Jonah into his room.

  “This is amazing!” he squeals, springing onto his super-high canopy bed.

  The carpet is extra soft, the wallpaper has a pretty flower pattern, and the drapes are shimmery silver. “It is nice,” I admit. “Does it bring back any other castle memories? Like the time we visited The Little Mermaid?”

  “Nope!” Jonah says and then jumps up and down on his bed.

  I walk out into the sitting area. It has two plush suede couches, a leather chair, and a shiny wooden desk. On one of the walls is a huge silver mirror. On another, there’s a large gold clock.

  “It’s five thirty here,” I say worriedly. “I just wish I knew what time it was back home. Mom and Dad could already be awake and looking for us. They could have called the police again!”

  “They called the police?” Jonah asks, following me into the sitting room. He stands on one of the couch cushions and leaps off.

  “Yes, once before,” I say. I twist my hands together. “I really hope they’re not awake.”

  “I’m pretty sure they’re still asleep,” Jonah says, climbing back onto the couch.

  “You have no way of knowing that,” I say.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “No, you don’t,” I argue.

  “Yes, I do. Look.” Jonah points to the silver mirror on the wall.

  “Oh my gosh!” I yell and jump back.

  My parents are IN the mirror.

  Not like trapped inside. I can actually see them in the mirror. It’s as if there’s a camera on their ceiling and I can see them in their beds, all the way in Smithville. They are both fast asleep.

  “SNORTSH,” snores my dad. Except it’s more like “SNOOOOOOOOORTSH” in slow motion. Usually, time at home is slower than time in fairy tales. So maybe a minute at home is an hour here. Which means that this snore could go on for hours.

  “This must be the magic mirror!” I exclaim. Then I add in a whisper, “Do you think they can hear us?”

  “CAN YOU HEAR US?” Jonah hollers at the top of his lungs.

  “Jonah! Shush! Do you want to wake them up?”

  “I don’t think they can hear us,” Jonah says. “I think it’s a one-way mirror. Like at the police station.”

  “When have you ever been to a police station?” I ask.

  “I haven’t,” he says. “Unfortunately. But I’ve watched TV, and a lot of shows take place in a police station.”

  “Okay.” I let out a sigh of relief. “This is helpful. We know they’re still sleeping. We don’t know what time it is, but we know they’re not awake and looking for us.”

  “We do know what time it is,” Jonah says. “Look at their alarm clock.”

  Oh! He’s right! The clock says it’s one thirty A.M. Let’s see. We arrived in Kingdom around ten in the morning, which was midnight at home. An hour and a half has gone by there, and seven and a half hours here. “That means time is going about five times slower there,” I say, calculating. “For every hour at home, it’s five hours here. And since they get up around seven, that gives us about twenty-seven and a half hours to make things right.”

  “You’re really good at math,” Jonah says.

  “Thanks,” I say. If only I were half as good at painting.

  “That seems like a lot of hours,” Jonah adds.

  “Time flies when you’re having fun,” I say. “Also when you’re messing up fairy tales. But we are one step ahead anyway. We know how to get home.”

  “Yeah!” He scratches his head. “How do we get home?”

  “I told you,” I say. “We knock on this magic mirror.”

  Jonah nods. “That makes sense. We’re not going to end up in their room, are we?”

  “I don’t think so. We always end up back in the basement. Anyway. Now all we need to figure out is how to get Mr. Beast and Beauty to fall in love,” I say. “And then we can leave.”

  “Or we could just leave now. Knock on the mirror and go,” Jonah says.

  “Oh!” He’s right. We could just go home. But what if Mr. Beast tells Beauty to leave? Or what if she takes off? Then they’ll never fall in love and their lives will be ruined. “No,” I argue, “we have to stay and make sure the story happens like it’s supposed to. Mom and Dad are sleeping anyway.”

  “Good point,” says Jonah. “So what’s our plan?”

  I’ve been thinking about this. “We should have them go on dates.”

  “Dates?” Jonah frowns. “Like grown-ups do?”

  “Yeah!” I say. “Let’s make a list of dates for Beauty and Mr. Beast to go on!”

  I spot a paper and pen on the desk, make myself comfy in the leather chair, and write:

  DATES FOR BEAUTY AND MR. BEAST

  Hmm. I tap my pen against the table. “What kind of dates do Mom and Dad go on when they go out on Saturday nights?

  Jonah hangs upside down off the couch. “They go to Trattoria for dinner.”

  “Right,” I say. “Okay! We can do that. Beauty and Mr. Beast will have dinner together. A romantic dinner! Tonight! We’re having dinner soon anyway. We’ll just make it romantic.”

  I write:

  1. Romantic dinner

  “But we’re going to be there, too,” Jonah says, still upside down. “Don’t they have to be alone for it to be romantic?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Maybe we’ll tell them nine is too late for us to eat, and we need to go to sleep. It is really late, and we are just kids.”

  “But I’m hungry!”

  My stomach ru
mbles. So am I. “How about we eat a little and then excuse ourselves before dessert?”

  “But I like dessert,” Jonah protests, his face turning red from being upside down.

  “Jonah! You can have dessert at home!”

  “Fine,” he grumbles.

  “What else do Mom and Dad do for date nights?” I ask.

  “They go to the movies,” Jonah says.

  “Perfect.” I write:

  2. Go to the movies

  “Although,” I say, picturing the quaint, old-fashioned town. “I don’t think there are any movie theaters in the kingdom of Kingdom.”

  “Could they watch something on Netflix?” Jonah suggests. He’s moved over to the other couch and is now lying upside down off that one.

  I sputter. “Jonah! There’s no Netflix here!” I scratch out “2. Go to the movies” and suddenly have a brilliant idea. “But! We could make a movie! I mean, we can put on a show for them.”

  I write:

  2. Go to a show

  “Oh, cool!” Jonah cries, flipping right side up. “We could put on a play. Or sing a song for them. Or do a dance routine for them!”

  I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but Jonah doesn’t have the best singing voice. Or acting skills. Or dance abilities. Maybe a show isn’t the best idea. Hmm.

  “Or instead of the two of us putting on a play, maybe the two of them could play a game. The game you guys were just playing, maybe?”

  “Flying crocodile?” Jonah asks hopefully.

  “No. The card game.”

  “Trump!” He somersaults off the couch and sprawls across the floor.

  “Yes.”

  “Good idea,” Jonah says. “Mom and Dad play rummy sometimes on vacation. It’ll be like that.” He climbs back on the couch and starts jumping.

  “Careful,” I say. “One of these days, you’re going to hurt yourself. But yes. Like rummy. Exactly.”

  I cross out “2. Go to a show” and write:

  2. Play trump

  “So no singing or dancing?” Jonah asks.

  “No,” I say. But then I have a flash of remembering Mom and Dad dancing at a wedding. “But they can dance. Beauty and Mr. Beast dance in the movie! Dancing is really romantic. Don’t you remember Nana saying that she fell in love with Grandpa after they danced together at a school social for the first time?”

  “Oh, yeah!” Jonah says.

  I add:

  3. Dance together

  I relax against the back of the chair. “Perfect. These are three great date ideas. If they do what I say, Beauty and Mr. Beast are going to fall in love for sure.”

  Jonah somersaults off the couch again and bangs into the wall. “Ouch,” he says, rubbing his elbow.

  Now if only Jonah would do what I say, we’d be all set.

  The dinner bell chimes at nine o’clock. My stomach is rumbling like a volcano.

  After Jonah and I finished making our list of date ideas, we went back to our rooms to change out of our pj’s. There were tons of clothes in my closet! Including a beautiful purple satin gown and a silver tiara. And at least ten pairs of super-cute pajamas. Does Mr. Beast think we’re staying that long? He didn’t even want us here in the first place! Is he really planning on keeping us forever? Doesn’t he realize we can sneak back home through the mirror at any time?

  I change into a green-and-white polka-dot dress and green shoes, then stop by Jonah’s room. First, though, I peek into the magic mirror in the sitting room to make sure my parents are still in sleepyland. Yup, they are. Hurrah!

  Jonah is wearing a new pair of gray pants, a crisp white shirt, and black suspenders. Except the suspenders are all tangled and crossed on his front instead of his back. He looks pretty proud of himself, so I decide not to fix them.

  “You look very handsome,” I say.

  He preens. “Thank you. I had to change. My pajamas had ketchup all over them.”

  I laugh. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to eat them.”

  When we get to the dining room, Mr. Beast is sitting at the head of the table. It’s a very long table. Like, ridiculously long. Like you could sit ten people on each side. But instead, it’s set for just five people. Mr. Beast, Beauty, me, Jonah, and …

  Prince jumps onto one of the seats.

  “No, Prince, not at the table,” I say.

  “Why shouldn’t he sit at the table?” Mr. Beast huffs. “Is he not good enough to sit at the table because he’s covered in fur?”

  “Oh,” I say. “I guess he can sit at the table.” Oops.

  Beauty finally comes down a few minutes later and says, “Hi, everyone.”

  Beauty looks, of course, beautiful in a new red dress. It brings out the warmth in her skin and shows off her glossy, curly black hair.

  Unfortunately, Mr. Beast barely looks at or acknowledges her.

  “Hello!” says Mrs. Butler, appearing with food on a tray. “We will start off with goat cheese soup. Then we will be serving ricotta ravioli. And for dessert, we will have chocolate cheesecake. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

  We all nod. It really does.

  I scoop up my soup with my spoon. Mmm. I wish I could have this at home. I wish I had a Mrs. Butler at home, too.

  There is even a special plate of dog food for Prince, which he happily inhales.

  “The meal is delicious,” I tell Mrs. Butler.

  “No, no, dear, you don’t need to help with the dishes. I’ll do them.”

  I giggle. “No, Mrs. Butler, I said the meal is delicious. You’re a wonderful cook. But I am happy to help with the dishes!”

  Now she laughs. “Cook? I don’t cook! Mr. Beast is the cook!”

  Mr. Beast flushes.

  “He is?” I ask. “I’m so impressed! Did you taste the soup, Beauty? Isn’t it amazing?”

  She’s just staring into her bowl.

  I motion for her to eat.

  She sighs and takes a small sip off her spoon. “Uh-huh.”

  I wait for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. I guess I’ll have to keep talking. “So, Beauty. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

  “I read,” she says. “A lot.”

  “Oh, yeah? What about you, Mr. Beast? Do you like to read?”

  “Not really,” he says.

  “What do you like to do?” I ask him.

  “I like to cook,” he says, and takes a slurp of soup. “And eat. Beasts are hungry all the time. I have multiple meals a day. Breakfast. Brunch. Lunch. Linner. Dinner.”

  “Linner?” asks Jonah.

  “It’s between lunch and dinner,” Mr. Beast explains.

  No wonder his dinner is at nine. He has to build in time for all those extra meals.

  “There’s also aftinner. After Dinner,” Mr. Beast adds.

  When does he have time to sleep?

  “What else do you like to do?” I ask Mr. Beast.

  “Play games,” he says. “Like trump.”

  “And flying crocodile!” Jonah says.

  Mr. Beast smiles. “That, too.”

  “Do you like to play trump?” I ask Beauty.

  “I don’t know how,” she says, taking another spoonful of soup.

  “Maybe Mr. Beast can teach you after dinner,” I say.

  Mr. Beast gives a hint of a nod. “I can. If you want to learn.”

  “Okay,” Beauty says. “I’d like that.”

  Hurrah! We’re in the middle of date number one — dinner! After this, we’ll go straight into date number two — playing a game. Maybe we can even top the evening off with date number three — dancing. And they’ll be madly in love and we’ll be all done.

  The main course comes and I’m in food heaven. So is Jonah. Even Beauty is gobbling it down. Mmm. So much cheese. Yum. Maybe it’s from Freckles’s shop. Good job, Freckles.

  I try to keep the conversation going between bites.

  “So, Mr. Beast, have you lived in this palace a long time?” I ask.

  “No,” he says curt
ly. He takes a big bite of pasta.

  I glance at Beauty in case she has any follow-up questions, but she’s silent.

  These two could really work on their conversational skills. But I’m not ready to give up. “How long have you lived here?” I go on.

  “About two years,” he says.

  “It’s very pretty. And quiet.”

  “I like the quiet,” he says. “I like to be far from Town.” He takes a gulp of his water and looks up at Beauty. “Do you miss Town?”

  It’s the first question he’s asked her yet.

  “I do,” she admits. “I used to live there before my dad lost his business and we had to move out to the cottage. I’ve always dreamt about moving back. It’s so vibrant. I like the hustle and bustle. I like to be around lots of people.”

  “Oh,” Beast says. He takes another gulp of water.

  Humph. She couldn’t have pretended to want to live out here in the middle of nowhere?

  Mr. Beast returns to eating.

  Watching him eat is kind of strange. His lips are big. His teeth are so sharp. And he can put a lot more pasta in his mouth than any person I’ve ever seen.

  When I see the chocolate cheesecake dessert coming, I motion to Jonah. Let’s go, I mouth.

  He makes a sad face but pushes back his chair.

  “Jonah and I don’t want dessert,” I announce. It’s a total lie, but I have to stick to the plan. “You guys go ahead. We’re stuffed.”

  Mr. Beast looks at us suspiciously. “Really? Neither of you wants to try my delicious chocolate cheesecake? It’s extra chocolaty.”

  A strangled sound escapes Jonah’s lips.

  “No, thank you,” I say, which is difficult, believe me. “You two finish up and then play your game. We’ll be upstairs. Have fun!”

  Whew. Now they’ll really get a chance to talk. They’re going to fall in love and live happily ever after. Maybe it’ll happen right away and we’ll be able to go home before bedtime.

  Jonah and I turn and start to walk out of the dining room.

  We don’t get far before Beauty pushes her chair back. “I need to go upstairs, too. Sorry. I don’t think I can play trump tonight. Thank you for dinner.”

  Huh? What’s she doing?

  Mr. Beast’s face clouds over. “Fine. Good night,” he thunders.

  Without comment, she runs from the dining room.