Ivy and Bean Doomed to Dance

Bean yanked on the playhouse instead. Soon the roof de-caved enough for Ivy to squeeze out, and then Bean crawled inside and kicked the ceiling until the playhouse was almost the shape it had been before.
    “Whew,” said Bean, sitting down. “We’re going to have to get some tape to fix that crack.” She wiped her sweaty face with her sweaty hand. “Duct tape. I love fixing things.”
    “But Bean,” said Ivy. “We didn’t fix anything. We’re still squids.”
    Dang. Bean had almost forgotten about that. Her duct-tape happiness faded. She was a squid. A friendly squid. “Maybe we’ll get so sick we can’t be in The World of Dance,” she suggested.
    “That’s not a bad idea,” said Ivy thoughtfully. “In fact, that’s a great idea. We can’t dance if we’re sick. Let’s get sick.”
    Sick. Well, it would hurt less than spraining her arm. “Okay, but how?” asked Bean.
    “Germs,” said Ivy. “We’ll catch some germs and get sick.”
    “Germs,” said Bean, thinking. “I know where germs are. At school. Ms. Aruba-Tate says the school is full of germs. That’s why she’s always making us wash our hands.”
    “But we don’t want regular dirt germs. We want sick germs,” said Ivy. “We’ll have to find someone sick.”
    “Easy-peasy.” Bean was definitely cheerful now. “Tomorrow we’ll find the sickest person at school and touch him!”

GERMS OF HOPE
    Ivy and Bean stood on the playground of Emerson School. Around them children were running and shouting. There were kids dangling from the monkey bars and dropping off the play structure. There were kids playing wall ball. There were kids arguing about four square. Some fifth-grade girls walked around the field, talking, which looked so incredibly boring that Bean hoped she would never get to fifth grade. Ivy and Bean leaned against the fence and watched. They were hunting for germs.

    “I bet MacAdam is full of germs,” whispered Bean.
    MacAdam was eating dirt. He liked to do that. But other than eating dirt, he looked perfectly healthy.
    “We need someone sicker,” said Ivy. “Look for someone sitting down. If you sit down during recess, it’s because you’re sick.”
    They peered around the playground. “Drew is sitting down,” said Bean, “but that’s probably because the Yard Duty got him.”
    “What about that kid over there?” Ivy pointed to a first-grade-looking kid that Bean didn’t know. He was sitting by himself on a bench.
    “Hey! He coughed!” said Bean. “Let’s get him!”
    In a flash, they were at his side.
    He looked up.
    Ivy nudged Bean and pointed at his nose. It was runny.

    “Are you sick?” asked Bean.
    “Yes,” said the kid. He coughed with his mouth wide open and then looked back up at them again. “What?”
    “What have you got?” asked Ivy.
    “What does it matter?” said Bean. “He’s sick.”
    “I don’t want to throw up,” whispered Ivy.
    “Oh,” said Bean. She didn’t want to throw up either. “You’re not going to throw up, are you?” she asked the boy.
    He looked a little worried. “I don’t think so. Maybe.”
    Ivy took a step away. Bean stared at him, thinking about friendly squids. “Can I touch your face?” she asked finally. “Me and her, we need to get sick.”
    He wiped his nose. “Okay.”
    Bean stuck her hand on his face. It was kind of gross. “Breathe on me,” she told him.
    He puffed a big breath at her. She could feel the germs hitting her skin.
    Ivy was standing far away in the bushes by now. “I’ll just catch it from you,” she called.
    Bean rubbed her hands all over her face. “Thanks,” she said to the kid. He sneezed.
    Bean and Ivy knew about germs. They didn’t make you sick right away. You had to wait at least a couple of hours. That was okay. Ivy and Bean didn’t want to get sick during science. They liked science.
    This month, science was Ocean Life. And today Ocean Life was fish prints. It was art and science mixed together, Ms. Aruba-Tate said. The second-graders nodded. They liked art, too.
    Ms. Aruba-Tate explained about fish prints. You took a dead fish and painted it. Then you dropped it pretty hard on a piece of paper. When you picked it up again, there was a paint fish on your paper. Then you used your crayons to draw an undersea environment around the fish.
    “Does everyone understand the instructions?” asked Ms. Aruba-Tate, looking around the classroom.
    “Are the fish dead?” asked Zuzu.
    “Yes, the fish are