Willa Bean's Cloud Dreams Read online

  Willa Bean did the same thing as Pedro. Dip, drip, write. But when she started to make her capital W, a big blob of ink plopped out of the quill. “Nope, nope-ity, nope, nope, nope!” she begged in a whispery voice. But the ink didn’t listen. Instead, it made a big, messy stain on Willa Bean’s paper. Now her capital W looked like this:

  Willa Bean did not want Miss Twizzle to know that she was having trouble with her ink. And she certainly did not want Miss Twizzle to think that she couldn’t write her name. She mopped up the extra ink with her fingers. Then she wiped her fingers on the bottom of her uniform. It made a cute little squiggle stain.

  “Ewwww!” Vivi said, leaning over her chair. “Willa Bean just made a big mess on her skirt!”

  Willa Bean looked at Vivi. “You mind your own business, meany-mouth!”

  “Excuse me, cupids.” Miss Twizzle turned from the chalkboard. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Vivi stood up. Her green bow quivered. “Willa Bean made a mess with her ink, Miss Twizzle. And she called me a bad name.”

  “Wizzle-dizzle-doodad!” Harper said from across the room. “What happened, Willa Bean?”

  Miss Twizzle rushed over. She knelt down to look at Willa Bean’s skirt. When she saw the ink stain, she made a face as if someone had pinched her. “Oh, Willa Bean! You can’t wipe your fingers on your uniform! Ink won’t come out!”

  “She called me a bad name, too, Miss Twizzle,” Vivi said.

  Miss Twizzle looked up from Willa Bean’s skirt. “Is that true, Willa Bean?”

  Willa Bean stared down at the floor.

  “What name did you call Vivi?” Miss Twizzle asked.

  Willa Bean’s ears were hot. She stepped on her big toe and wiggled her purple wings with the silver tips. “A meany-mouth,” she said in a not-so-loud voice.

  Miss Twizzle cleared her throat. “That’s not very nice, Willa Bean. And I know you are old enough now to know the Cupid Rule. Am I right?”

  Willa Bean nodded.

  “What is the Cupid Rule?” Miss Twizzle asked.

  “The very best way to spend your day is to try to be kind, all the time,” Willa Bean said. She crossed her arms. “But Vivi is a meany-mouth! And she’s a tattletale, too!”

  Miss Twizzle stood up. She tapped her fingertips together. “I’m waiting, Willa Bean.”

  “For what?” Willa Bean asked.

  “For you to apologize.” Miss Twizzle’s voice was very stern. “To Vivi. For calling her two names.”

  Willa Bean didn’t say anything. Apologies could be hard, too. Just like the Cupid Rule. Especially when she was not even the littlest bit sorry.

  Miss Twizzle tapped her fingertips a little faster. “I will give you three seconds, Willa Bean.”

  “Tooby-looby-skadooby!” Harper called. “Just say it, Willa Bean! You don’t want to get in trouble on your first day!”

  “I’m sorry,” Willa Bean whispered.

  “All right, then.” Miss Twizzle held out her hand. “Come with me, now. We’ll try to clean up the ink on your skirt.”

  Willa Bean took Miss Twizzle’s hand. It was warm and soft.

  But her inside crying feeling was back. And it was all that mean old Vivi’s fault.

  Miss Twizzle used special cloudroot soap on Willa Bean’s uniform. She rubbed and rubbed the ink stain. By the time she was done, it didn’t look like a cute little squiggle anymore. Now it looked like a big, flat, squished squiggle.

  “All right, class!” Miss Twizzle called. “That’s all we’re going to do with our quill pens today. Please put them inside your desks along with your inkpots. Then line up for music class.”

  Willa Bean went back to her desk. She stared again at her quill pen. She did not want to put it in her desk. It was too beautiful to be in the desk. It was treasure-plus.

  Quick as a snap, Willa Bean shoved her quill pen inside her hair. She pushed it all the way in the back, where the curls were the curliest. The pen stuck out a little because it was so long. But Willa Bean squished it down. She patted her hair back into place.

  And then she got in line with everyone else.

  Music class was very fun. The music teacher, Mr. Sunhorn, had shiny blue wings. When he wanted to get the class’s attention, he tapped on his desk with a silver stick.

  Willa Bean kept her eye on that stick. It was long and smooth. It sparkled when the sun came through the window. The tip of it was black. What a treasure that stick would be!

  All at once, she spied a fat pink eraser on the floor. It was right underneath Sophie’s chair! More treasure! Willa Bean grabbed the pink eraser. She stuffed it inside her hair, right next to the quill pen. She and Harper would fill their treasure chest in no time as long as they kept coming back to school!

  Mr. Sunhorn taught the class a song about the wind and the stars. He said they could sing the song whenever an Earth baby needed help getting to sleep. It was a nice song. Willa Bean wondered if it would work on Baby Louie. Her little brother always fussed before he went to bed.

  After music class, Miss Twizzle lined the cupids back up.

  “Where are we going now?” Willa Bean asked.

  “To the arena,” Miss Twizzle said. “It’s time for everybody’s favorite! Flying class!”

  The other cupids cheered and jumped up and down. But Willa Bean’s heart thumped inside her chest. Her hands felt cold. Her throw-up feeling was back.

  “Don’t worry, Willa Bean,” Harper whispered. “We probably won’t have to do any real flying today.”

  Willa Bean stared straight ahead. She wasn’t so sure.

  The flying teacher’s name was Mr. Rightflight. He did not have much hair, and he was not very tall. But he had bright red wings that fluttered at the tips. A shiny silver whistle hung around his neck.

  Mr. Rightflight blew his whistle as the cupids walked into the arena. “Welcome to flying class, cupids!” he yelled. “Let’s see what you can do today!”

  Willa Bean glanced over at Miss Twizzle. Her teacher was sitting on the side, watching the class. Willa Bean squeezed her eyes shut. Now even her teacher would know she couldn’t fly!

  Mr. Rightflight walked up to Raymond with the shiny treasure things all over his shirt. “What’s your name, cupid?” He had a big, booming voice.

  “Raymond,” Raymond whispered.

  “All right, Raymond!” Mr. Rightflight put a hand on Raymond’s shoulder. “Stand on that red line over there and let me see how far you can fly!”

  Raymond looked at Pedro and Michael and then walked over to the red line.

  “Toes on the line!” Mr. Rightflight boomed.

  Raymond put his toes on the line. He lifted his arms and raised himself up on his tiptoes. His little white wings wiggled back and forth. He grunted. But nothing happened.

  “Go ahead!” Mr. Rightflight blew on his whistle. “Let’s see what you can do!”

  Raymond tried again. He bent and wiggled and lifted and grunted.

  Still nothing.

  Maybe Daddy was right, Willa Bean thought. Maybe I won’t be the only cupid in school who doesn’t know how to fly yet! Raymond and I will be the can’t-fliers! We can start our own can’t-fly-yet team!

  Mr. Rightflight walked over to Raymond. “Have you flown at all yet, cupid?” His voice was not so loud now.

  “Lots of times!” Raymond’s voice was quivery. “I fly around at home, and in the playground on Cloud Eight, too. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

  “Hmmmm …” Mr. Rightflight peered at Raymond’s chest. “What are those things on your shirt?”

  Raymond puffed his chest out a little. “They’re medals. My grandpa got them. For doing so much good stuff on Earth. He told me that I could wear them today for my first day at school.”

  Willa Bean straightened up. Medals? Real, honest-to-goodness medals? That was the best treasure she had ever heard of! It was even better than a quill pen or a silver stick! It was super-treasure-plus!

  “They’re very fine medals,”
Mr. Rightflight said. “But they’re weighing you down, Raymond. They’re making you too heavy to fly. Why don’t you take them off? Give them to Miss Twizzle to hold. And then we’ll see if that helps.”

  The cupid class watched as Raymond unpinned his grandfather’s medals. Willa Bean watched very, very closely. She knew it wasn’t nice, but she sort of hoped Raymond would drop one of the medals. Maybe it would roll under the seats, where no one would notice. Then she could get it later, on a secret trip to the bathroom.

  But Raymond didn’t drop a single medal. And when he stood back on the red line again and stretched out his arms, he flew straight up into the air.

  The class cheered. Miss Twizzle cheered. Raymond flew around the arena twice. He was fast. Then he came back down.

  Mr. Rightflight patted him on the back. “Terrific work, Raymond! Now you can put your medals back on.”

  Vivi went next. She flew straight up into the air. But she tipped a little bit to one side. And then she tipped a lot to the other side. Wibble-wobble.

  “Keep those arms out straight, Vivi!” Mr. Rightflight yelled. “Chin up in the air!”

  Vivi lifted her chin. She straightened her arms. Her tipping stopped. She flew around the arena three more times—perfectly—and then came back down.

  “Excellent!” Mr. Rightflight said.

  “Thank you,” Vivi answered. “Usually I don’t tip at all.”

  Pedro was next in line, and then came Sophie, Harper, Lola, and Sebastian. All of them flew across the arena with their little white wings, and then came back down again.

  Willa Bean was after Hannah.

  And by the time Hannah was done, Willa Bean was pretty sure she was going to throw up.

  Right after she fainted.

  Harper squeezed Willa Bean’s hand. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered. “Just concentrate, Willa Bean. And wiggle.”

  “Next!” Mr. Rightflight bellowed.

  Willa Bean dragged her feet as she walked to the red line. She lifted her arms and rolled up on her tiptoes. Her heart was beating like crazy. Her neck was boiling hot. The throw-up feeling was right in the back of her throat.

  “Hold on just a minute, Willa Bean,” Miss Twizzle called out from her seat.

  Willa Bean lowered her arms. Did Miss Twizzle know somehow that she couldn’t fly? Had her teacher decided to come to her rescue? Oh, that Miss Twizzle! What a wonderful teacher she was!

  “I’d like to see you out in the hall, Willa Bean,” Miss Twizzle said. “Come with me, please.”

  Willa Bean followed Miss Twizzle out into the hall. Miss Twizzle closed the door to the arena and turned around. “Yes, Miss Twizzle?” Willa Bean asked.

  Miss Twizzle tapped her fingers together. “What do you have stuck in the back of your hair, Willa Bean?”

  Willa Bean’s heart had stopped beating like crazy. Now it started flip-flopping around like a grasshopper. “Nothing, Miss Twizzle,” she said.

  Miss Twizzle stopped tapping her fingers. “Well then, please take nothing out of your hair and put it in my hand.”

  Willa Bean reached into the right side of her hair. She took out the two peanut butter Snoogy Bars for Harper and her to eat later. They were soft and squishy inside the wrappers. Willa Bean put them in Miss Twizzle’s hand.

  Miss Twizzle blinked twice. “The other side of your hair, Willa Bean.”

  Willa Bean reached inside her hair again. She pulled out the small silver buckle she had found on the way to the cloudstop. She took out the fat pink eraser she had found in Mr. Sunhorn’s room. She put them both in Miss Twizzle’s hand.

  Miss Twizzle cleared her throat. “I do believe there is one more item in there,” she said.

  Very slowly, Willa Bean pulled out the quill pen. It was broken at the tip. The feather was mashed and squooshed. She held it out to Miss Twizzle and stared at the floor.

  Miss Twizzle’s pretty mouth was set in a straight line. “You did hear me say that quill pens are not to leave our classroom, didn’t you, Willa Bean?”

  “Yes,” Willa Bean said.

  “And you heard me tell everyone to put their quill pens back inside their desks, didn’t you?” Miss Twizzle went on.

  Willa Bean nodded. “But I just couldn’t, Miss Twizzle! My quill pen is so beautiful! It’s treasure-plus! I just wanted to take it back to Cloud Five so Harper and I could put it in our treasure chest!”

  “It’s ruined treasure now,” Miss Twizzle said quietly. “And because you didn’t listen, Willa Bean, you are not going to have a quill pen like everyone else for the rest of the month.”

  “But what will I use to write in my tablet?” Willa Bean asked.

  “A regular pencil,” Miss Twizzle said. “I’m sorry, Willa Bean, but that’s what happens when you don’t follow the rules.”

  Willa Bean pushed out her bottom lip. She twirled one of her curls around her finger and looked at the floor.

  Inside the arena, Mr. Rightflight’s whistle screeched loudly. “Flying class is over, cupids! Great job! Next week, we start practicing with bows and arrows!”

  Back in Class A, Miss Twizzle handed Willa Bean a plain old, boring yellow pencil. “Take your seat now, Willa Bean,” she said.

  Willa Bean’s lips quivered as she looked at the pencil. It was short and yellow. It had a stubby point. It was horribly ugly. She missed her quill pen terribly, even with its bent tip and mashed feather.

  Just then, Vivi turned around. “Why did you have to go out in the hall during flying class?” she whispered.

  “Because Miss Twizzle had to tell me a secret,” Willa Bean said.

  Vivi looked down at Willa Bean’s pencil. “How come you have a pencil?”

  Willa Bean crossed her arms. “ ’Cause Miss Twizzle loves me the most. She gave it to me because I’m her favorite.”

  Vivi wrinkled her nose. “You are not her favorite. And she did not tell you a secret. You got in trouble. That’s why you had to go out into the hall. And that’s why you have a pencil. Cupids only get pencils when they get in trouble.”

  “I am not in trouble!” Willa Bean yelled.

  “Are too!” Vivi said.

  “Am not!”

  “Are too!”

  Willa Bean’s inside angry feeling boiled over. And before she could stop herself, she reached out and pulled one of Vivi’s wings.

  Vivi screamed.

  “Willa Bean!” Miss Twizzle shouted. “Let go of Vivi’s wing this instant!”

  Willa Bean let go of Vivi’s wing. In her hand was one of Vivi’s wing feathers. It was small and white.

  Vivi snatched her feather back. She glared at Willa Bean.

  Willa Bean felt very terrible. Pulling out wing feathers was not a nice thing to do. Especially on the first day of school.

  “That is the last straw, Willa Bean.” Miss Twizzle marched over and took Willa Bean by the hand. “You are going to have to sit up here by me for the rest of the day.”

  Miss Twizzle pulled out a chair and placed it next to her desk. “And I will have to inform your mother about your behavior today.”

  Willa Bean sat down in her new chair. She stared at the floor. She had liked it before when everyone watched as she stood up and said her name. Now she didn’t like it at all. Not one bit. And her inside angry feeling had turned back into her inside crying feeling.

  “Wolly-golly-doodad,” Harper whispered from the front row when Miss Twizzle turned around. “Hang on, Willa Bean. The day is almost over.”

  Willa Bean and Harper shared a seat again on the way home. Harper let Willa Bean sit by the window this time. Mostly because Willa Bean had gotten into so much trouble at school. Harper was super-nice that way.

  “Don’t worry, Willa Bean,” Harper said for what must have been the millionth time. “It’ll be okay.”

  “No, it won’t.” Willa Bean looked at the sky as the cloudbus chugged along. It was a watery blue color. “Miss Twizzle said she was going to tell Mama everything that happened! Mama’s going
to tell Daddy, and they’re both going to freak out!”

  “Maybe you should hide,” Harper suggested. “Or run away.”

  “I can’t!” Willa Bean said. “Mama will be waiting for me at the cloudstop!”

  Harper rubbed her stomach. “I’m so hungry. Do you still have that Snoogy Bar? My stomach is doing a rumblegrumble. Maybe after I eat, I’ll think of something else you can do.”

  Willa Bean pulled a Snoogy Bar out of her hair and gave it to Harper. The other Snoogy Bar was still there, behind Willa Bean’s right ear. But Willa Bean didn’t take it out. She wasn’t hungry.

  Harper unwrapped her Snoogy Bar. It was soft and melty. She took a big bite. “Gee, Willa Bean,” she said. “With all the stuff you carry around in your hair all day, you must feel light as a feather when you take everything out again.”

  Willa Bean nodded. “Really light,” she said. “Like I—” Suddenly she stopped talking. “HOLY SHAMOLEY!”

  Harper jumped a little. “Holy shamoley what?”

  “IT’S LIKE WHAT MR. RIGHTFLIGHT SAID ABOUT RAYMOND’S SHINY THINGS! WHY HE COULDN’T FLY!”

  Harper put both hands over her ears. “Willa Bean, you’re screaming.”

  Willa Bean lowered her voice to a whisper-scream. “Remember how Raymond wore all of his grandpa’s shiny medals today on his ufinorm? And when he tried to fly at flying class, he couldn’t because the medals were too heavy? And then after Mr. Rightflight told him to take them off, he could fly!”

  Harper’s big eyes blinked behind her polka-dotted glasses. “Uh-huh,” she said.

  Willa Bean started to bounce up and down in her seat. Her curls boing-boinged along with her hopping. Hop-hop-hop! Boing-boing-boing! Suddenly not having a quill pen for the rest of the month didn’t seem so terrible. And neither did getting in trouble with Mama and Daddy.

  “I FIGURED IT OUT!” Willa Bean shouted. “WHY I CAN’T FLY! IT’S ’CAUSE I HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF IN MY POCKETS! AND IN MY HAIR, TOO! ALL THAT STUFF IS MAKING ME TOO HEAVY!”

  “Are you sure?” Harper asked.