Elizabeth said when I showed her the bean. "You said it was covered in chocolate."
"It melted off."
"But it's plain. I can't eat it plain. It'll taste disgusting."
"I didn't say you could eat it."
"Are you going to eat it?"
"No."
We stared at it, as if we'd never seen a coffee bean. As if something about it would be different. "Hey," she said. "Let's grind it up and drink it."
Okay, so I was curious about the bean. Of course nothing would happen because nothing ever happens after the birthday candles go out or after the wishbone snaps.
But maybe something would happen. Though it wouldn't. But what if?
"Come on. Let's do it," Elizabeth begged. "Don't worry about those stupid jam pots.
Irmgaard can fill them."
I poured coffee into a mug. Then I washed the bean with soap and hot water, just in case. I dropped the bean into the electric grinder. A short whirrr later, a dusting of grounds appeared in the basin. Elizabeth pressed against my shoulder, watching as I pinched the grounds, then sprinkled them into the mug. They floated, shimmering like golden sequins.
"I've never seen coffee grounds shimmer like that," I said.
Elizabeth leaned closer. "Me neither."
We jumped as the front door slammed. Vincent hurried over to the counter, water dripping from his knit hat. "It's dangerous out there. The wind almost knocked me over, twice."
"Watch out, you're getting water on me," Elizabeth complained as Vincent shook his head. "Jeez, what are you? A dog? Where's a towel?"
"In the back room," I told her. She stomped off.
"Can I get some toast?" Vincent asked.
"Yeah." I dropped some bread into the toaster, then got some butter from the refrigerator. Vincent liked his toast dark, with enough butter to lather a sunbather.
"That coffee tastes bad," Vincent said.
Coffee? I had only turned away for a moment. I pointed to the mug of magic coffee.
"Did you drink that?"
"I just took a sip. It's got a weird aftertaste."
Uh-oh. Does E. coli have a weird aftertaste? What about botulism or cholera? Can you taste those diseases, because I'm fairly certain that those are the kinds of diseases that would be hanging out in a London sewer pipe. Or any sewer pipe. Had I poisoned my best friend?
Elizabeth emerged from the back room just as Vincent poured our magic coffee down the sink. She grabbed the empty mug. "Hey, we were going to drink that."
"He took a sip," I told her.
He rubbed his red nose. "Sorry. I just wanted something hot." Elizabeth and I stood side by side, watching for signs of fortune--diamonds raining from the ceiling, gold coins pouring from Vincent's ears, that sort of thing.
"Why are you staring at me?"
We waited for changes--for his wallet to swell, for gold chains to appear around his neck. Nothing. The toast popped. He buttered it and ate it.
"Oh well," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "Better get to school."
Vincent put his bike in the alley, then we piled into Elizabeth's car. Her window wipers squeaked as the blades fought the downpour. Up the hill we went, past the Nordby Veterinary Clinic and the Chevron station. "Sorry about the bad coffee," I told Vincent. I kept asking him how he felt, worried he might turn green or spotted.
"You're not getting a fever, are you? Do you feel like you're going to puke?" Stuff like that. He told me to "quit it already."
Just as we passed the nail salon, the black car in front of us veered right, left, then right again. "What's he doing?" Elizabeth asked, slowing. The car took a sharp left and crossed the opposite lane, right in front of an oncoming truck. The truck veered into our lane.
"Watch out!" I cried, covering my face. I was going to die in a car crash, just like my parents. We were all going to die! Elizabeth slammed on the brakes as the truck swerved and narrowly missed us.
I dropped my hands, watching in silent shock as the black car drove up on the sidewalk, then crashed into a bus bench. Vincent threw open the door and raced across the street. Other people
"It melted off."
"But it's plain. I can't eat it plain. It'll taste disgusting."
"I didn't say you could eat it."
"Are you going to eat it?"
"No."
We stared at it, as if we'd never seen a coffee bean. As if something about it would be different. "Hey," she said. "Let's grind it up and drink it."
Okay, so I was curious about the bean. Of course nothing would happen because nothing ever happens after the birthday candles go out or after the wishbone snaps.
But maybe something would happen. Though it wouldn't. But what if?
"Come on. Let's do it," Elizabeth begged. "Don't worry about those stupid jam pots.
Irmgaard can fill them."
I poured coffee into a mug. Then I washed the bean with soap and hot water, just in case. I dropped the bean into the electric grinder. A short whirrr later, a dusting of grounds appeared in the basin. Elizabeth pressed against my shoulder, watching as I pinched the grounds, then sprinkled them into the mug. They floated, shimmering like golden sequins.
"I've never seen coffee grounds shimmer like that," I said.
Elizabeth leaned closer. "Me neither."
We jumped as the front door slammed. Vincent hurried over to the counter, water dripping from his knit hat. "It's dangerous out there. The wind almost knocked me over, twice."
"Watch out, you're getting water on me," Elizabeth complained as Vincent shook his head. "Jeez, what are you? A dog? Where's a towel?"
"In the back room," I told her. She stomped off.
"Can I get some toast?" Vincent asked.
"Yeah." I dropped some bread into the toaster, then got some butter from the refrigerator. Vincent liked his toast dark, with enough butter to lather a sunbather.
"That coffee tastes bad," Vincent said.
Coffee? I had only turned away for a moment. I pointed to the mug of magic coffee.
"Did you drink that?"
"I just took a sip. It's got a weird aftertaste."
Uh-oh. Does E. coli have a weird aftertaste? What about botulism or cholera? Can you taste those diseases, because I'm fairly certain that those are the kinds of diseases that would be hanging out in a London sewer pipe. Or any sewer pipe. Had I poisoned my best friend?
Elizabeth emerged from the back room just as Vincent poured our magic coffee down the sink. She grabbed the empty mug. "Hey, we were going to drink that."
"He took a sip," I told her.
He rubbed his red nose. "Sorry. I just wanted something hot." Elizabeth and I stood side by side, watching for signs of fortune--diamonds raining from the ceiling, gold coins pouring from Vincent's ears, that sort of thing.
"Why are you staring at me?"
We waited for changes--for his wallet to swell, for gold chains to appear around his neck. Nothing. The toast popped. He buttered it and ate it.
"Oh well," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "Better get to school."
Vincent put his bike in the alley, then we piled into Elizabeth's car. Her window wipers squeaked as the blades fought the downpour. Up the hill we went, past the Nordby Veterinary Clinic and the Chevron station. "Sorry about the bad coffee," I told Vincent. I kept asking him how he felt, worried he might turn green or spotted.
"You're not getting a fever, are you? Do you feel like you're going to puke?" Stuff like that. He told me to "quit it already."
Just as we passed the nail salon, the black car in front of us veered right, left, then right again. "What's he doing?" Elizabeth asked, slowing. The car took a sharp left and crossed the opposite lane, right in front of an oncoming truck. The truck veered into our lane.
"Watch out!" I cried, covering my face. I was going to die in a car crash, just like my parents. We were all going to die! Elizabeth slammed on the brakes as the truck swerved and narrowly missed us.
I dropped my hands, watching in silent shock as the black car drove up on the sidewalk, then crashed into a bus bench. Vincent threw open the door and raced across the street. Other people
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