“Thinking about what?” asked Prairie.
“Secret,” said Bean. She straightened her papers. “Tomorrow morning, I will reveal my plan.”
They all nodded in a worried way, and then they went home, very quietly, except Ivy.
Bean spun in her chair. She slammed her phone down a few times.
“Do you have a plan?” asked Ivy.
“Sure!” said Bean. She spun around a few more times. They believed her. She was the P. I. of Pancake Court, just like she had wanted to be. Dino and Sophie S. and Ruby and Trevor and Prairie were all expecting her to catch Mr. Whoever-tied-the-yellow-rope. They were going to be mad if she didn’t. “I sort of have a plan,” she said. “A little bit.”
Ivy twiddled her hair. “What would Al Seven do?”
“He’d sit in his car.”
“You think your dad would let you sit in his car?” Ivy asked.
Bean sighed. “Probably not.” When Bean was a little kid, she had locked herself in her dad’s car and honked the horn. For a long time. Ever since then, she wasn’t allowed to sit in the car by herself. “I don’t think it would do any good anyway,” she said. “It isn’t sitting in the car that solves Al’s cases. It’s thinking.”
Ivy nodded. “Okay.” She watched Bean think.
Bean thought. The more she thought, the more she didn’t know who had tied the yellow rope. How did Al Seven do it?
“Maybe it’ll come to you in a dream,” said Ivy. “Sometimes that happens in books.”
“Maybe,” said Bean.
“You’d better go to bed early,” said Ivy.
THE BIG NAB
The next morning, Bean began to do the regular things—yawn, splash, stumble—and then she remembered the rope. Quickly she zipped out onto her front porch to take a look.
The mysterious rope-tyer had come again! The yellow rope stretched like a bright snake beyond Ivy’s stairs and up Mr. Columbi’s driveway, wrapped once around his garbage can, trailed across his weed collection, and moved on to Ruby and Trevor’s house, where it wound in and out of their experimental bean plants and finally came to an end at the far edge of their grass.
When she saw it, Bean’s heart started to thump. It grew! It was still happening! Pancake Court was a place of mystery!
Then she remembered Dino’s worried face, and Sophie S.’s and Prairie’s and Trevor’s and Ruby’s. She thought, I’m supposed to solve this mystery.
And then: How the heck am I going to do that?
She went back inside. The rest of the regular things—cereal, banana, where’s my backpack, someone took it, oh here it is—didn’t seem regular.
“You look tired, sweetie,” said her mom. “Did you get enough sleep?”
“Hardly any,” said Bean. This wasn’t exactly true, but it was nice when her mom worried about her.
“She slept, Mom. She was snoring her head off when I went to bed last night,” said Nancy.
“I was up half the night,” said Bean. She drooped tiredly. She was about to say that she was so tired she should stay home from school, when suddenly she got the idea she’d been waiting for: the perfect plan, like something Al Seven himself might have thought up. She smiled at Nancy.
“Stop smiling at me,” said Nancy grumpily.
“Sure thing, pal.”
+ + + + + +
“It’s in our yard now,” said Ruby. She was chewing on her hair.
“In our beans,” added Trevor.
“It’s wrapped around Mr. Columbi’s garbage can,” said Dino. He looked over his shoulder and whispered, “You think it could be a zombie?”
“Or a werewolf?” said Sophie S.
They all looked at Bean with worried faces. She smiled toughly. “Don’t be stooges,” she said. “Zombies don’t carry ropes. And werewolves can’t tie knots. They have paws.” She tried to talk without moving her lips. “And you should stop worrying about it, because I’ve got a plan. A good plan. Maybe even a great plan.”
“What?” said Dino.
“She said she has a plan,” Ivy explained. “A good plan, maybe even a great plan.”
“Tell it,” said Ruby. Trevor and Prairie and Sophie S. nodded.
Bean looked around at their scared faces. It was her job to make them feel better. “Okay. Here’s my plan. Mr. Whoever-tied-the-rope comes in the night, right?” They nodded. “So tonight, I’m going to get up in the middle of the night and wait for him. When he comes out to tie the rope, I’ll nab him!”
“What does that mean, nab?” asked Trevor.
“Um, get him,” Bean said. “Grab him.”
“What if he’s big and mean?” asked Sophie worriedly.
Yikes, Bean thought. What if he is big and mean?
“I know,” said Ivy. “Just take a picture of him. That way you don’t have to get close to him. You can take a picture and then run back inside and lock the door.”
“Good idea,” said Bean. “I’ll take a picture of him.”
“I’d do it with you, except my mom would freak,” said Trevor.
“Ha,” said Ruby. “You’d freak.”
“I would not!”
“Who has three night-lights?” said Ruby.
“I don’t have three!” yelled Trevor. “I do not!”
After they yelled at each other for a while, Bean interrupted. “It’s okay, I’ll do it myself. Danger makes me laugh.”
She hoped it would, anyway.
+ + + + + +
“Guess I’ll go to bed now!” said Bean.
“What?” Her mom looked up from her book. “It’s only eight.”
“Remember? I hardly slept last night.” Bean tried to droop.
“Oh, right,” said her mom. “You want me to come up and tuck you in?”
Bean opened her mouth wide. She hoped it looked like a yawn. “That’s okay. I don’t want to bother you.”
Her mother seemed surprised. “Wow. Okay. Nighty-night.”
Bean went upstairs. The real reason she didn’t want her mother to tuck her in was under her pillow. It was a timer shaped like a tomato. Bean didn’t know how to set an alarm clock, but she did know how to set a timer: You twisted it all the way around. It would tick off an hour, and then a really loud bell would ring. That’s why it was under Bean’s pillow. Actually, it was under Bean’s pillow plus two other pillows. Bean could still hear it from under three pillows, but she didn’t think her parents would.
Bean turned out her light and jumped into bed. She needed to go to sleep right away, because she only had an hour before the timer would ring. Then she would twist it again, for another hour. She would twist it four times, and then it would be midnight, and she would get up and go outside.
Bean kicked her sheets, thinking about big and mean rope-tying people, about the timer waking her parents up, about sitting on her porch in the dark. She thought so much that when the timer rang, she had only been asleep for a few minutes. She twisted it again, and went back to sleep.
She twisted it again, and went back to sleep.
She twisted it again, and went back to sleep.
DANGER MAKES THEM YAWN
She twisted it again—No! Midnight! Time to get up!
Very quietly, Bean put on her clothes. She stood still and listened to make sure no one was awake. The only sound was her own breathing. Danger makes me laugh, she reminded herself. But she was too tired to laugh, and anyway, if she laughed, her mom might wake up. Bean slipped out of her room and went downstairs. She stopped in her mom’s office to borrow her phone, the one with the camera, and then she got the flashlight, and finally there was nothing else to do except go outside.
In the front hallway, Bean took a deep breath. She got ready for the dark and the cold and maybe a big and mean person. Everyone else was cozy in their warm beds. Nobody knew what she was doing. She was all alone. Al Seven never seemed lonely. There was something weird about him, Bean decided. She opened the door.
The porch looked regular, but the rest of Pan
cake Court was blueish-blackish and empty. Bean sat down on her top step, and looked out over the nighttime world, with its looming, dark houses and rustling, dark trees. The yellow rope glowed in the light of the streetlamp, from Dino’s chimney to Ruby and Trevor’s grass. She had made it in time. It hadn’t grown, not yet. The nighttime world reminded her of Al Seven’s black-and-white world. Even though she wasn’t cold, Bean shivered. It wasn’t the rope. It was the alone.
Click. As Bean watched, Ivy came quietly out her front door. She looked over at Bean’s house and waved. Then she ran down her front stairs to the sidewalk and around Pancake Court, all the way to Bean’s house.
To heck with Al Seven, Bean thought as she watched Ivy run. To heck with laughing at danger. To heck with being tough. Ivy was the greatest. “Hi!” she whispered, as Ivy came up the driveway. “How’d you get up?”
“Timer,” whispered Ivy, sitting down beside Bean.
“Me too! Is yours a tomato?”
“Nope, an egg,” said Ivy. She looked at the rope. “It hasn’t gotten longer.”
Bean scooted close to her. “I’m glad you came.”
“I want to see Mr. Whoever-tied-the-rope,” said Ivy.
“You do? What if he’s big and mean?” asked Bean.
“Maybe he’ll be little and nice.”
Bean hoped so.
They did some waiting. They did some more waiting. They did some huddling. Then some more waiting. Then their tushes fell asleep. They got to their feet and did some stand-up waiting. They sat down and waited some more.
Nothing happened.
Bean put her head down on her knees for a while. The while stretched on. She might have closed her eyes.
She opened them and looked across the street. The rope had grown again. Bright and yellow, it crossed the street and went under Jake the Teenager’s car, which was parked at the curb. Then it went up Jake the Teenager’s lawn and over his driveway and up to Kalia’s mailbox.
Bean nudged Ivy. “Wake up. It happened.”
“I’m awake,” said Ivy, even though she wasn’t. She opened her eyes. “Wow,” she said after a minute. “He must be pretty quiet, Mr. Whoever.”
“Yeah,” said Bean. Mr. Whoever was quiet. He wasn’t big and mean. That was an idea that came from being scared. And being scared came from not understanding why anyone would stretch rope all over Pancake Court. Bean didn’t understand why either, but she was sure, now, that it wasn’t a mean person who had done it. Suddenly, she thought maybe it wasn’t even a person. Maybe it was a creature from another world. She pictured a soft thing with long, white, rubbery fingers, tying knots. Then she pictured a tiny man, like a gnome, carrying a rope as big as he was. Then, for some reason, she pictured a rabbit in a cowboy hat with a yellow rope lasso. “It could be anything tying that rope,” she said.
Ivy nodded happily. “I know! Isn’t it great? It could be an invisible being.”
“It could be a creature from another world,” Bean said. “With long, white, rubbery fingers.”
“Yeah!” said Ivy. Her face got dreamy. “Or maybe the rope is the creature. Maybe it’s tying itself.” She looked at Bean. “Like magic.”
Bean nodded. “Maybe it’s magic.” She leaned forward to look at the rope. It was either a mystery or magic. Either way was fine. “It’s going to get to my house soon.”
“You’ll have a mystery in your own front yard,” said Ivy.
A mystery in her own front yard. Right in the middle of her P. I. office. “Al Seven is always wanting to solve mysteries,” Bean said.
“That’s what I don’t get about him,” said Ivy. “Why does he always want to solve them? You solve problems, but a mystery isn’t a problem, so why does it have to be solved?”
“Sometimes it’s a problem,” said Bean.
“This one isn’t. Nobody’s getting hurt or anything. It’s a nice mystery.”
Bean nodded. It was true. The rope moved from yard to yard. It wasn’t doing anything bad. It came in the night and no one knew who did it, but that made it interesting.
Ivy yawned.
Yawns were catching. Bean yawned, too.
Ivy stood up. “I’m going home.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.” Bean watched until Ivy closed her door, and then she went upstairs to her own cozy bed.
AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE
“You didn’t get him!” yelled Trevor when Bean came out of her house the next morning.
“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” said Ruby.
“Did you even get up at all?” asked Dino.
They crowded together, waiting for her on the sidewalk.
“I was up,” Bean said. “Ivy and I were both up all night, sitting right on the porch there. In the dark. Without a single light,” she added to Trevor.
“Well?” said Prairie. She pointed to the rope on Kalia’s mailbox.
“Well, okay, we didn’t see who did it,” Bean admitted. “It was very strange and mysterious. One moment it wasn’t there, and the next moment it was. We’re thinking that maybe it’s some kind of white, rubbery creature from another world who comes every night with a piece of rope.”
“And slithers through the bushes without making any sound,” Ivy added, coming up to the group. “And then—”
“Cut it out, you guys!” said Sophie S.
“Yeah, cut it out!” said Dino. He looked mad.
“But it’s cool!” Bean said. She tried to explain. “It could be a regular person, but he’d have to be tiny, like a gnome or—”
“A gnome?” asked Dino. “Like a little creepy guy? That’s not cool!”
Sophie S. put her hands on her hips. “Listen, Bean, you said you would catch Mr. Whoever. You said.”
“Yeah,” said Trevor and Ruby and Prairie together.
Bean tried again. “But it could be magic! Right here in our own neighborhood! Isn’t that the greatest?”
“Zombies are magic,” said Dino. “And then they eat your brains.”
“I think you guys watch too many scary movies,” said Bean. “This is real life. It’s our very own mystery, and, it might even be magic.”
There was a silence. Then Trevor said, “If we knew for sure it was magic, it would be okay.”
“But we don’t know what it is,” said Ruby.
“And we don’t know why it’s happening,” said Sophie.
“Right!” said Ivy, waving her hands in the air. “That’s what makes it a mystery!”
She and Bean smiled at the faces around them. Nobody smiled back.
“Okay, Bean,” said Prairie after a moment. “If you won’t solve the Mystery of the Yellow Rope, then we will.”
Sheesh. They were so serious. “Fine!” said Bean. “I’ll solve it, I’ll solve it! Meet me in the P. I. office after school.”
+ + + + + +
All day, Bean thought about magic and Al Seven and being a P. I. But most of all, she thought about solving the Mystery of the Yellow Rope. She thought about it during rug time. She thought about it during Drop Everything and Read. She thought about it during Mad Minute Math. She even thought about it during recess.
By the end of the day, she still hadn’t solved a thing. The case was uncracked.
After school, Ivy and Bean walked home. They walked very slowly. Then they walked backward. Then they played Straightjacket, where you could only turn when you ran into something. It took a long time to get back to Pancake Court. The closer they got, the slower they walked.
“What am I going to do?” asked Bean. “I’m supposed to solve the mystery.”
“Maybe you could say that a zombie did eat your brains,” Ivy suggested. “Nobody can solve a mystery if her brain has been eaten.”
Dino and Ruby and Trevor and Sophie S. and Prairie were already sitting in the P. I. office on the lawn.
“We’ve made a decision,” Trevor said as soon as he saw Bean.
“Great!” said Bean. Making all the decisions was wearing her out.
 
; “Our decision is that we should tell the grown-ups,” said Prairie. “They’ll never notice on their own.”
“Tell them what?” asked Ivy.
“That some creepy person is tying up Pancake Court!” squeaked Trevor.
What? “That’s not what’s happening!” said Bean.
“That’s a terrible decision!” said Ivy at the same time.
“We have to tell a grown-up,” said Sophie.
“No! They’ll get all upset,” said Bean.
She looked over at the bright yellow rope, almost at her yard. “They’ll untie the rope and throw it away.”
“They’ll catch whoever it is!” said Dino.
“Yeah, and if it’s all slithery and white like you said, they’ll—” Trevor made a blowing-up sound.
Ivy and Bean looked at each other with wide eyes. Blowing up magical creatures from other worlds? That was horrible. “You’ll hurt it!” Ivy cried.
“You said you were going to solve the mystery, Bean,” said Sophie S. “But you didn’t. There’s nothing else to do but tell a grown-up.”
CRACK!
Bean rubbed her face, for real this time. There had to be a way to keep them from telling a grown-up about the rope, and she needed to think of it in the next three seconds.
Ivy sniffed.
Bean wondered what would happen if she tied herself up in the rope. They wouldn’t blow it up if she were inside it. Or would they?
Ivy sniffed louder.
Bean gave her the bug-eyed look. What?
Ivy tapped herself with one finger.
Bean pointed at Ivy. You?