Ivy and Bean: What's the Big Idea? Read Free Page B

Ivy.
    â€œNot all at once,” said Vanessa. “A minute at a time, fifteen times in the whole day. I bet I win the certificate.”
    Bean bet so too, but she didn’t say it. She said, “That remains to be seen,” in a mysterious voice. But after Vanessa left, she turned to Ivy. “If we don’t think of something soon, we’re toast.”

    School was over, and Ivy and Bean still didn’t have an idea that would stop global warming. They didn’t talk much as they walked home. They were thinking.
    As they turned the corner of Pancake Court, Ivy and Bean saw Bean’s neighbor, Mrs. Trantz, walking her dog Dottsy. Dottsy looked like she was pink, but she wasn’t. It was her skin showing through her hair. She and Mrs. Trantz were both old. Whenever they went for a walk, it was a very slow walk.

    â€œSlow down,” whispered Bean. “If we catch up to her, she’ll get mad at me.”
    â€œBut you’re not doing anything wrong,” whispered Ivy.
    â€œI know, but she’ll get mad anyhow.” Mrs. Trantz was strange that way. You would think she’d get tired of getting mad at Bean, but she never did.
    Slowly, slowly, Mrs. Trantz and Dottsy trudged along Pancake Court. Even though she was slower than a slug, Mrs. Trantz acted like she was in a big hurry. Every time Dottsy stopped to sniff a lump of grass, Mrs. Trantz yanked on her leash and said “Come!” in a high voice. Dottsy looked sadly back at each lump as she was dragged away.

    â€œGo slower,” whispered Bean.
    â€œI can’t go any slower,” whispered Ivy. “If I go any slower, I’ll be going backwards.”
    â€œLet’s crawl on our hands and knees,” whispered Bean. “We’ll pretend we’re ants.”
    They dropped to their hands and knees and crept after Mrs. Trantz, being very slow ants. Little pebbles and sticks dug into Bean’s knees, but it was still better than being yelled at by Mrs. Trantz.
    â€œPoor Dottsy,” murmured Ivy. “This is all she sees. Rocks and dirt and Mrs. Trantz’s behind.”
    â€œI’d rather look at rocks than Mrs. Trantz’s behind,” Bean whispered.
    Up ahead, Dottsy turned around and saw them.
    â€œRrrryp?” she said wonderingly and tried to stop.
    But Mrs. Trantz wouldn’t let her. She tugged on the leash. “Come!” she snapped.
    Dottsy’s legs quivered, trying to stay in one place. “Rrryurg,” she choked.
    Mrs. Trantz turned around to give a really hard yank and saw Ivy and Bean crawling up the sidewalk. “Is that you, Bernice?” she squawked, squinting at Bean.
    Bean tried to crawl into some bushes.
    â€œI know it’s you! Get up! Stop teasing my dog or I’ll call your mother! Get up!”
    Bean and Ivy stood up. Ivy bravely said, “We weren’t teasing your dog, Mrs. Trantz.”
    â€œWho are you, little girl?” yelled Mrs. Trantz. “Leave my poor Dottsy alone!”
    â€œRrryp?” said Dottsy, sniffing hopefully towards Ivy and Bean.

    â€œCome, Dottsy!” said Mrs. Trantz, giving a giant yank on the leash. Mrs. Trantz was old, but she was strong. Dottsy went flying through the air.
    â€œPoor Dottsy,” said Ivy, watching them totter home.
    â€œYeah,” said Bean. “She has a terrible life, and there’s nothing she can do about it.”
    â€œIf I were her, I’d run away,” said Ivy.
    â€œBut she can’t. Mrs. Trantz is bigger than she is. Mrs. Trantz can stick that leash on her and pull her around.”
    â€œIt’s not fair,” said Ivy. “People always win.”
    â€œYeah,” Bean nodded, watching Mrs. Trantz haul Dottsy up her front steps. “But you know what? Maybe we can make it fair.”

Survival of the Fittest
    â€œMom,” said Ivy, “can you tie this knot?”
    Ivy’s mom was working in her office. Click, click, click, her