But then my fingers felt something. It was on the bottom of the hole, so flat and smooth that I must have missed it the first time.
“Yay, yay, yay! You’re still here, fairies!” I shouted into the hole happily.
I pulled out the thing that they had left for me.
It was a pirate eye patch.
“Thank you!” I hugged the Fairy Tree very tight.
Except I wasn’t sure why I needed a pirate eye patch, since I was going to be a taco for Halloween. Still, Mrs. Pennypocket says that even though the Fairy Tree might not leave you something you want, it always leaves you something that you really need…even if you don’t know that you need it.
I put the eye patch on right away.
“I promise I am going to wear this all day long,” I told the fairies.
Then I remembered something.
Oops.
I was going to be Pie Girl today. And I have never seen a Pie Girl wearing a pirate eye patch.
For the potluck supper, I dressed in my favorite dress. It is blue with white polka dots all over it and a black belt that is shiny. I put on my best black shoes too. When I was all dressed, I went down the hall to the bathroom to admire myself in the big mirror. Just as I got to the bathroom, Dad walked out of it. His hair was wet from a shower, and he was dressed in his nice clothes.
“You look very gorgeous,” I told him.
“So do you,” he said. Then he stared at my head for a second.
“What’s up with the eye patch?” he asked.
“I’m wearing it to the potluck,” I told him.
“Think again, pal,” he told me.
I tapped the side of my head for a moment, then said, “Okay, I just thought again. And I think that I am definitely wearing this eye patch.”
Dad’s face looked unfriendly. Then he called for my mom.
She came to the bathroom, all dressed up in her nice yellow sweater that Grandma made for her.
“Piper says she’s wearing that eye patch to the potluck,” Dad told her.
Uh-oh. Now they were both frowning at my head.
“Why are you wearing that eye patch, Piper?” Mom asked. Her voice was the kind of voice that is waiting for an interesting answer.
I couldn’t tell her it was because I had promised the fairies I would.
“I just feel like it,” I said.
“But you’re going to be Pie Girl,” said Mom. “Pie Girl doesn’t wear an eye patch.”
“Yes, but I’m the pirate kind of Pie Girl,” I told her.
Then Mom took a deep breath, which is how she relaxes herself when she’s stressed out.
“Choose your battles, choose your battles,” she muttered to Dad, patting him on the back before she walked away.
—
The Sea Star was moored at the public dock. It is a big ship with a dark green hull. Captain MacArthur was standing out on the deck to greet people.
“Well, hello, Green family! Good to see you all again!” When he spotted me, he folded his arms across his chest and blocked my way.
“Sorry, no pirates allowed aboard this ship,” he said.
“But I’m a Pie Girl Pirate,” I told him.
“Ah, well, that’s okay, then. Do you know what pirates say when they serve pie?”
I shook my head.
“They say, ‘Shiver me timbers, be ye like some pie?’ ” While he said this, he made a hook out of his finger, like Captain Hook.
I tried that out. “Shiver me timbers, be ye like some pie?” and I made a hook out of my finger.
“Good. Now give us a snarl.”
I did a snarl.
“You’ll do,” said Captain MacArthur. He stepped aside. “Just keep the swashbuckling to a minimum.”
There were loads of people from Peek-a-Boo Island already on the Sea Star. The little kids were running around like nutjobs, and bigger kids were playing games at tables while the grown-ups were talking.
I helped Mom and Dad carry the pies into the galley, which is the ship’s kitchen.
On the way, I sang my Pie Girl song.
“Apple pie, pecan pie, butterscotch swirl,
Pumpkin pie, lumpkin pie,
I’m the pie GIRL!”
I even did the hop, but it was just a tiny hop because I was holding one of the pies.
The counters in the galley were packed with food. But bad luck, because guess who was also there? Allie O’Malley and her mother. Allie O’Malley was still wearing her fairy dress and her hair was in a French braid. She and her mother were fussing over a silver tray full of deviled eggs. The hard-boiled eggs were cut in half, and the yellow filling was made to look like a baby chick peeping out. Each little chick had a sliver of carrot for a beak and two black peppercorn eyes. They were very adorable.
I took the foil off of one of our pecan pies. The pecans were all messy. They didn’t look like anything.
Some of the pecans were poking up, so I pushed them down with my finger. Then I saw two that were overlapping, so I took one out. But that made a hole in the pie. I did some more rearranging until Mom said, “Jeezum crow, Piper! Hands off the pie!”
Allie O’Malley looked over at us. Then she looked at the pie and made a little sniff sound.
I did a pirate snarl at her. It was an excellent one too, but she just rolled her eyes.
“Piper!” Camilla called to me.
My friends Camilla and Jacob were sitting at one of the tables, playing a game of Jenga. Camilla was talking a mile a minute because that girl is a motormouth. When she saw me, she said, “Guess what? The doctor said I’m probably going to be tall when I grow up, and that’s good because I’m thinking about becoming a storm chaser and if I have long legs I can run faster to catch up with the storms. Oh, and you know what else? I just used the bathroom downstairs because the one in the nurse’s station is broken and guess what? They have candy-cane hand soap down there! Plus, when you flush the toilet it is soooo loud! And you know what else? My cousin just got a GINORMOUS lizard named Mr. Biscuit…”
As Camilla was yakking, Jacob was carefully looking at the Jenga tower. He’s an expert Jenga player. I’ve never even beaten that guy once.
“Your turn,” said Jacob after he pushed out his block.
Camilla just kept on talking while she quickly poked her finger at a block and took it out of the tower. The tower swayed and I squeezed up my eyes, ready for it to fall, but it didn’t. Jacob put his chin in his hand and looked at the tower again. Then he pushed out a block near the bottom very, very slowly.
RAKA-CRACKA-CRACKA!!!
The Jenga blocks fell all over the place.
Jacob threw up his hands and shook his head. “I don’t get it. That’s the third time she’s beaten me today. She doesn’t even look at what she’s doing, she’s so busy talking.”
“I think with my mouth,” Camilla said, shrugging.
A nurse stepped out of the doctor’s cabin toward the bow of the ship and called, “Piper and Leo?”
“Good luck, Piper!” Camilla said as I got up to go to the doctor’s cabin with Mom and Leo. “I hope you’re going to be tall too. Then we can both chase storms!”
When we walked into the cabin, Dr. Dagan looked at Leo and me with a frown. “I think there’s been some mistake,” she said. “Piper and Leo Green were supposed to be next, and they are much smaller than the two of you. Can you go back out there and tell Piper and Leo to come in?”
Mom smiled, so I knew Dr. Dagan was just joking around, but Leo said, “We are Piper and Leo! We just grew since you last saw us. If you want proof, look!” He held up Michelle.
Michelle is a piece of paper.
“Ah, now I do recognize your friend Michelle!” Dr. Dagan said.
“She’s his wife now,” I told Dr. Dagan.
Leo looked very proud of himself.
“Congratulations, Leo,” said Dr. Dagan.
“And that’s Harold, our son.” He pointed to the yellow Post-it note clipped onto Michelle
. A few weeks ago, Harold’s sticky back got some cat hair on it, and it doesn’t stick anymore, so now Leo attaches him to Michelle with a binder clip.
“Harold is very handsome. Should I examine him first?” Dr. Dagan patted the metal table that was covered with a long piece of waxy paper.
Leo loved that idea. He unclipped Harold and put him on the metal table.
Dr. Dagan stuck her stethoscope in her ears and put the other end on Harold. She listened for a minute. Then she said, “His heartbeat is nice and strong.”
“He doesn’t actually have a heart, Dr. Dagan,” Leo said. “He’s too flat.”
“Oh, you’re right. Sorry.” Dr. Dagan tapped Harold in a few places and shined her flashlight on him.
“His complexion is good. He’s a lovely shade of yellow,” said Dr. Dagan.
“Don’t worry about that smudge there.” Leo pointed to a pink spot on Harold. “It’s just some old spaghetti sauce I splattered on him.”
“Well,” Dr. Dagan said, “I think Harold is in excellent health.”
Carefully, she clipped Harold back on Michelle.
Next was Leo’s turn. Mom held Michelle while Leo stepped onto the scale and Dr. Dagan checked his height and weight. Then she told him to hop up on the table. Dr. Dagan put the blood pressure cuff on him. While it strangled his arm, Dr. Dagan asked Leo about his good ear. She never asks about his bad ear because Leo goes to a special ear doctor for that. Next she asked him a bunch of questions, like how much exercise he gets and if he eats vegetables. He told her he eats them, but I happen to know he sticks them down his pants when Mom and Dad aren’t looking.
Pretty soon it was my turn. Dr. Dagan weighed me and measured me too. She didn’t say I was going to be tall like Camilla, so I don’t know about that storm-chasing thing. After she put that arm strangler on me, Dr. Dagan pulled out her little silver flashlight with the bird’s beak on the tip. She stuck that thing right up my nose to have a look around. Nothing interesting ever happens up there, but doctors always want to see for themselves.
“Do you know why pirates wore eye patches, Piper?” Dr. Dagan asked as she looked up my nose.
“Because they were missing an eyeball?” I said.
Dr. Dagan took the light out of my nose hole and put it up my other nose hole.
“Nope. They wore an eye patch because they needed one eye to always be adjusted to the dark. Imagine if you were a pirate and you suddenly had to fight in a dark place, like the lower deck. It takes a few minutes for your eyes to adjust to the dark, and that would be dangerous if someone were swinging a sword at you. But if you were wearing an eye patch, the eye under the patch would already be adjusted to the dark. All you’d have to do is switch the eye patch to your other eye, and you would be able to see.” She took the light out of my nose and said, “You’re not planning on taking over the Sea Star, are you?”
“No. I’m just being the pirate kind of Pie Girl.” Then I did my excellent snarl and said, “Shiver me timbers, be ye like some pie?” while I made a hook out of my finger.
“Hmm.” Dr. Dagan frowned at my finger. “What’s that?” she asked.
“A hook,” I said.
“No, I mean the bumps.” She held my hand and looked at it carefully.
“What is it?” Mom asked, and came over to have a look too. There were little red bumps on my finger and the palm of my hand and even a few on my wrist.
“They look like hives,” Mom said.
“They do,” Dr. Dagan agreed. “Piper, when did you first see these bumps?”
“Two seconds ago, when you said ‘What’s that?’ ” I told her.
The bumps were starting to feel itchy.
Dr. Dagan asked me a lot of questions then, like what I had eaten today and all the things I had done. I told her about shopping at the Little Store and rolling out all those crusts for the pecan pies. I’d had a very busy day, I realized.
“Has Piper ever eaten pecans before?” Dr. Dagan asked Mom.
Mom thought about that for a second. “Actually, I don’t think she has. She didn’t taste the pie today either. Although…she did touch it.”
“I just moved some of the pecans around so they didn’t look so messy.”
“Well, Piper,” Dr. Dagan said, folding her arms across her chest, “I suspect that you’re allergic to pecans.”
Allergic? But I’d never had any allergies before. Camilla has loads of allergies. She is allergic to cats, horses, hamsters, guinea pigs, dust, and flowers. Also rabbits. We had to get rid of our class rabbit, Nacho, because she is allergic to him, which means she can’t be around him.
Then a horrible thought came into my brain.
“But how can I be Pie Girl if I can’t be around pecan pie?” I asked Dr. Dagan.
Dr. Dagan looked at Mom.
Mom looked back at her.
I knew that look. It’s the look that says, “Get ready for bad news, Piper!”
“It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s NOT FAIR!” I said after Mom and Dr. Dagan told me I couldn’t be Pie Girl. “I was supposed to be Pie Girl! I’ve got the song and everything!”
“I know it’s not fair,” said Mom. “But allergies are serious, Piper. It would be hard to serve pie without some of it getting on your fingers. Next year we’ll make a blueberry pie, I promise. This year, you can help Mrs. Grindle and Leo with the bread.”
That made things even worse.
Because being Bread Girl is a bunch of stinky fish paste.
I sat on that doctor’s table and cried. Everyone was watching me, so I pulled the waxy table paper over my head to hide myself. I kept crying and crying until my eye patch felt slimy.
Someone knocked on the paper.
“What?” I said.
Leo peeped underneath.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
I sniffed. “All right.”
I lifted up the paper, and Leo put his head under there with mine. He put Harold on my lap.
“Harold says he’s sorry,” said Leo. “He says you would have been the best Pie Girl Pirate they ever had.”
I looked down at Harold with my one flooded eye.
“Thank you,” I whispered to him.
My nose started to leak, but I wiped at the leak before it fell on Harold. That guy has enough problems with his spaghetti sauce splatter and his cat fur.
When we came out of the doctor’s cabin, people were already sitting down for supper. The two long tables looked very nice. There were bright yellow tablecloths on them and centerpieces of pinecones in mason jars, with red ribbon tied around the jars. I mopped up my eyeball so people wouldn’t know I was crying, although I think Jacob might have seen, and I sat down at the table, next to Dad.
“Why so gloomy?” Dad asked me.
“She’s allergic to pecans,” Mom told him.
“Oh?” he said. Then he cried, “Oh!” when he realized that meant no Pie Girl for me. He put his arm around me, which usually makes me feel better, but this time it didn’t help at all.
Dad’s younger brother, Uncle Mack, sat down across from us. He has blond hair that goes down to his shoulders, and even though he’s younger than Dad, he’s a lot bigger. He is Dad’s sternman, which means that he helps out on Dad’s lobster boat. But that’s only temporary because he’s saving up to get his own lobster boat, and that is all he talks about these days.
“So I went to have a look at a boat over in Rockport the other day,” he said the moment he sat down. “Ooh, she was wicked sharp, I’m telling you.”
Whenever Uncle Mack thinks something is great, he calls it “wicked sharp.” Only he says it like this: “Wicked shaaap!”
Uncle Mack put his big arm around the chair next to him, even though the chair was empty.
“Saving that seat for some lucky girl?” Dad asked with a smile on his face.
“Any girl who sits next to me is lucky,” Uncle Mack said.
It turned out the lucky girl who sat next to Uncle Mack was Nora Bean. B
ut she didn’t seem to know she was lucky because when she walked onto the Sea Star, Uncle Mack had to stand up and wave at her. Then he kept pointing at the empty seat until she finally sat down next to him.
It was time to give out the bread, so Leo and I each took a basket full of rolls and corn bread from Mrs. Grindle. I took my basket over to the long table on the starboard side. “Starboard” means “the right side of the ship.” Leo went to the table on the port side, which is the left side of the ship.
Bread Girl is a very boring job because you just hold the basket by people’s heads and they take a piece out for themselves. Some people didn’t even want bread at all since there were so many other, more exciting things to eat.
Allie O’Malley came up to the table with her tray of adorable baby-chick deviled eggs. People at the table said “Awww!” like they were real, actual baby chicks. Every single person took one of those adorable things off Allie’s tray.
“How come you’re Bread Girl?” Allie O’Malley asked me. She said “Bread” just like it was stinky fish paste. “You told me you were going to be Pie Girl.”
I felt my face get a little crumply with sadness again. Allie just stood there staring at me and waiting for me to answer.
“Well? Cat got your tongue, Piper?” she said in her snippety grandma voice.
My eyes started to feel hot, and they were filling up with tears.
“I’d like some bread!” someone shouted from way down the other side of the table.
I looked over. It was Jacob, which was a very surprising thing because that boy hardly ever shouts.
I turned my back on Allie and hurried down to the other end of the table. Jacob took a piece of corn bread. Then he looked over at Allie O’Malley, who was still staring at us, and he also took two rolls.
When I finished bringing bread to everyone, I sat back down at the table. I took a peek over at Jacob. He was munching on a piece of corn bread.
And guess what else?
He was the only one at the table who didn’t have one of Allie’s baby chicks on his plate.