because of the twins and werewolves and the full moon.
Once I started working at the Blue Potato, the twins would come out to the farm every day and eat Emma’s weird cookies and hang around with the goats and the chickens and try to con Jim into letting them drive his secondhand John Deere. Jim never fell for it, even though Jasper was pretty convincing about being an expert with heavy machinery, which I think proves that Jim’s brain isn’t as fried as my dad says it is.
“Will those potatoes turn your tongue blue when you eat them?” Journey said, hanging over the fence where I was hoeing. “Like drinking grape Kool-Aid turns your tongue purple?”
Journey was wearing rhinestone sunglasses, overall shorts, and pink ballet slippers. Jasper was wearing cowboy boots and a T-shirt that said COME TO THE DARK SIDE. WE HAVE COOKIES .
Journey stuck out her tongue at Jasper, who stuck out his tongue back.
“No,” I said. “They do not turn your tongue blue.”
“I thought they’d turn your tongue blue,” Journey said mournfully.
“Well, they don’t,” I said.
I turned around so that my back was to the twins and hoed harder, but they didn’t take the hint and go away.
“We wondered if you might want to come over to our house tomorrow night,” Jasper said. “Isabelle said to ask you.”
My heart gave a sort of electric thunk.
“She said to ask you day before yesterday,” Journey said. “But Jasper forgot to tell you. Jasper is very forgetful. If you could see the inside of Jasper’s brain, it would be full of soft, fluffy balls of wool.”
In microseconds I thought of several creative awful things I’d like to do to Jasper’s soft woolly forgetful brain.
“If you could see the inside of
Journey’
s brain,” Jasper said, “it would be full of razor blades.”
Walter says that the twins are the conversational equivalent of a computer virus.
“Our parents think it’s good that Isabelle is showing social interests,” Jasper said. “When our dad said we were spending the summer here, she said oh, no, she wasn’t. She said she wasn’t going to go to some stupid little podunk town that didn’t even have a symphony or an art museum. She wanted to stay in New York and live by herself in a hotel.”
“Like Eloise,” Journey said. “Eloise is a girl in a famous picture book. She lived in the Plaza Hotel in New York and got her meals from room service and had a pet turtle who ate raisins. But Isabelle couldn’t do that because we don’t have enough money for a hotel.”
“Have you ever had a pet turtle?” asked Jasper.
“No,” I said.
“So are you going to come over tomorrow?” Jasper said.
“It’s because of the full moon,” Journey said, bouncing up and down on the fence. “There’s a full moon tomorrow night. Isabelle has a thing about the full moon.”
“If Journey was in outer space,” Jasper said, “she would not be the moon. She would be an Apollo object. That’s an asteroid that’s aimed at smashing into the Earth and destroying all life as we know it.”
“If
Jasper
was in outer space,” Journey said, “he would be puny pathetic cosmic dust.”
“What
time
tomorrow?” I said. Resisting a natural impulse to hit them with the hoe.
“Seven thirty,” Journey said. “I’ll give Isabelle your R.S.V.P. That’s how you answer an invitation. It stands for
Répondez, s’il vous plaît.
That means ‘Answer, please,’ in French. Did I say that I can speak French?”
“You said it,” Jasper said. “You say it a lot. But you can’t.”
“Also Jasper might turn into a werewolf,” Journey said.
“I have all the signs,” Jasper said. “Like I have unusually long middle fingers.” He showed me his hands and spread out his fingers. “See?”
“No,” I said.
“And my ears are a little pointed, and I’m pale,” Jasper said. “Werewolves are always pale.”
“That’s vampires,” I said. “Vampires are always pale. Werewolves are toothy and
Once I started working at the Blue Potato, the twins would come out to the farm every day and eat Emma’s weird cookies and hang around with the goats and the chickens and try to con Jim into letting them drive his secondhand John Deere. Jim never fell for it, even though Jasper was pretty convincing about being an expert with heavy machinery, which I think proves that Jim’s brain isn’t as fried as my dad says it is.
“Will those potatoes turn your tongue blue when you eat them?” Journey said, hanging over the fence where I was hoeing. “Like drinking grape Kool-Aid turns your tongue purple?”
Journey was wearing rhinestone sunglasses, overall shorts, and pink ballet slippers. Jasper was wearing cowboy boots and a T-shirt that said COME TO THE DARK SIDE. WE HAVE COOKIES .
Journey stuck out her tongue at Jasper, who stuck out his tongue back.
“No,” I said. “They do not turn your tongue blue.”
“I thought they’d turn your tongue blue,” Journey said mournfully.
“Well, they don’t,” I said.
I turned around so that my back was to the twins and hoed harder, but they didn’t take the hint and go away.
“We wondered if you might want to come over to our house tomorrow night,” Jasper said. “Isabelle said to ask you.”
My heart gave a sort of electric thunk.
“She said to ask you day before yesterday,” Journey said. “But Jasper forgot to tell you. Jasper is very forgetful. If you could see the inside of Jasper’s brain, it would be full of soft, fluffy balls of wool.”
In microseconds I thought of several creative awful things I’d like to do to Jasper’s soft woolly forgetful brain.
“If you could see the inside of
Journey’
s brain,” Jasper said, “it would be full of razor blades.”
Walter says that the twins are the conversational equivalent of a computer virus.
“Our parents think it’s good that Isabelle is showing social interests,” Jasper said. “When our dad said we were spending the summer here, she said oh, no, she wasn’t. She said she wasn’t going to go to some stupid little podunk town that didn’t even have a symphony or an art museum. She wanted to stay in New York and live by herself in a hotel.”
“Like Eloise,” Journey said. “Eloise is a girl in a famous picture book. She lived in the Plaza Hotel in New York and got her meals from room service and had a pet turtle who ate raisins. But Isabelle couldn’t do that because we don’t have enough money for a hotel.”
“Have you ever had a pet turtle?” asked Jasper.
“No,” I said.
“So are you going to come over tomorrow?” Jasper said.
“It’s because of the full moon,” Journey said, bouncing up and down on the fence. “There’s a full moon tomorrow night. Isabelle has a thing about the full moon.”
“If Journey was in outer space,” Jasper said, “she would not be the moon. She would be an Apollo object. That’s an asteroid that’s aimed at smashing into the Earth and destroying all life as we know it.”
“If
Jasper
was in outer space,” Journey said, “he would be puny pathetic cosmic dust.”
“What
time
tomorrow?” I said. Resisting a natural impulse to hit them with the hoe.
“Seven thirty,” Journey said. “I’ll give Isabelle your R.S.V.P. That’s how you answer an invitation. It stands for
Répondez, s’il vous plaît.
That means ‘Answer, please,’ in French. Did I say that I can speak French?”
“You said it,” Jasper said. “You say it a lot. But you can’t.”
“Also Jasper might turn into a werewolf,” Journey said.
“I have all the signs,” Jasper said. “Like I have unusually long middle fingers.” He showed me his hands and spread out his fingers. “See?”
“No,” I said.
“And my ears are a little pointed, and I’m pale,” Jasper said. “Werewolves are always pale.”
“That’s vampires,” I said. “Vampires are always pale. Werewolves are toothy and
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