Betty the Most Lovable Girl in the World (Preview)
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The Adventures of Betty, the Most Lovable Girl in the World.
By Ari Melman
Dedicated to Gavi Melman
Table of Contents:
Chapter One - Chapter One: Friendship is a Black-and-White Advert 1
Chapter Two - Chapter Two: Hope in Honey 7
Chapter Three - Chapter Three: Bravery in Bamboo 15
Chapter Four - Chapter Four: Safety in Stories 22
Chapter Five - Chapter Five: Cotton is Soul Candy 27
Chapter Six: Mapping out Mischief ??Chapter Seven: Oh, Boy ??
Chapter Eight: Cleaning is Caring ??
Chapter Nine: Alien Ambrosia ??
Chapter Ten: Dreaming Dark Delights ??
Chapter Eleven: Rusty our Russian Relations ??
Chapter Twelve: Where Babies Purr, Mothers Roar ??
Chapter Thirteen: Pickled Pride for Peaceberg ??Chapter Fourteen: A Well for Swell Friends ??
Chapter Fifteen: Play Along Parents ??
Chapter Sixteen: Set Off Sisters ??
Chapter Seventeen: Log-Lie Lane ??
Chapter Eighteen: Hear Hear, The Heroine Here ??
Chapter Nineteen: Neighborhood Versus Dad ??
Chapter Twenty: Tangled Twine ??
Chapter Twenty One: Unraveled ??Chapter Twenty Two: Victory Shaded Velvet ??
Chapter Twenty Three: Going, Going, Gone ??
Chapter Twenty Four: I Am Security ??
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CHAPTER ONE
Chapter One: Friendship is a Black-and-White Advert
Betty was a strange little girl. Instead of playing
with dolls, or doing up her hair with beads and pretty
ties, Betty liked to do housework. She didn't have much
choice in the matter. As the youngest of five children, all
girls, she had two choices. Either she enjoy doing all
their chores, or bitterly, ineffectively complain.
Betty had never known any other way to live in a
family. Her sisters had not wasted any time in transferring
their responsibilities. At four months, when her fingers
were just strong enough to grasp and hold onto objects,
instead of fingers and binkies and dandelions, they handed
Betty a small broom. At nine months, Betty uttered her
first word. Mom told all her friends that she said "sleep",
wasn't that the cutest thing?, but the sisters knew better.
For what Betty was really repeating, like a meditative
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mantra defining the rest of her days, was "sweep."
When she was old enough to walk, her sisters
hailed this age of new jobs they could give her. They'd
stack all their dirty clothes over her neck until she
looked quite like a walking laundry heap. For her second
birthday, they bought her a stool so she could climb up
onto the washer, which loomed over her twice as tall, and
start the wash. The drying rack was her monkey bars, and as
she dangled above the ground, she'd shake her head making
clothes fall onto the string.
Mother told her friends with great pride. "My
Betty is such a good influence on her older sisters. Ever
since she was born, they've worked harder than ever to keep
the place clean. They must really love her to want such a
clean house for her to grow up in."
But why were her sisters so selfish? Why would
they make their little sister do all the work while they
talked on their phones, watched TV, tried on new hairstyles
and played on the playgrounds? If you have to ask, you've
clearly never had older siblings. Being an older sibling is
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like being a queen all these servants who look up to you
just waiting to follow your every command. If parents don't
watch carefully and make all the children do their share,
every older sibling would act exactly as these girls had.
Betty never complained. She didn't know better.
And mom and dad never asked. It does nobody any good to
meddle when things are going well better not to question
and enjoy.
So day after day, week after week, year after
year, Betty kept the house cleaner than it had ever been
without asking for anything in return. Until one Sunday
morning, as she cleared the Sunday circulars off the
kitchen table in her hands, the most incredible flyer
slipped from the comic pages. With years of trained
reflexes, she caught the floating advert between his fourth
finger and pinkie, her only free fingers. It read:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, prepare
yourself for the most extraordinary event in this history
of the American Girl Panda Bear Collection. To celebrate
fifty years of supreme craftsmanship, the finest stuffed
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animals the world has ever seen, and a reputation for
fulfilling the greatest childhood memories, we'll be
bringing every American Girl Panda Bear in America together
for three days of unprecedented joy and love.
As you all know, American Girl Panda Bears are the
most exclusive, hand-knit, soft and loving stuffed animals
in the world. Each bear is carefully stitched by hand in a
process that takes a full month! Each bear is custom
designed for its owner. Standing at three feet, they
quickly become companions for life.
To celebrate the finest achievement in childhood
wonder, we're flying in every owner of an American Girl
Panda Bear for three days of enchantment. Every Panda bear
under a single roof! If that wasn't enough, one lucky girl
or boy will receive a special edition fiftiethanniversary
American Girl Panda Bear absolutely free. As you know, they
usually retail for $2000 so the recipient will be very
happy indeed.
Address: Intercontinental Hotel, 55th
and Lawrence
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Ave.
Date: Sunday, June 20"
Betty had never wanted anything in her life as
badly as this. Even though she had never spent much time
with stuffed animals or dolls, deep down in her heart she
wanted one who could be her best friend after all the work
was done. And just like choosing a best friend or a spouse,
the perfect stuffed animal couldn't be chosen willy-nilly.
It had to be perfect! Finally, she had found the perfect
friend, but it was so expensive her mother would never
approve. Besides, even if she managed to buy it, her
sisters would just take it for themselves. It had to be
gotten in such a way that the whole world knew it belonged
to Betty and Betty alone. If only she could go to the
American Girl Panda Bear festival.
She tucked the flyer into her elastipants. Then
she began plotting how she could convince the family to let
her go. Mom would say yes, as long as the house stayed
clean while she was gone. So the big issue was convincing
her sisters to keep clean for three days without her.
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That was harder than it sounds: once, she had
stayed three hours late at school to study for a test. When
she got home, there were clothes all over the house, banana
peels and candy bar wrappers strewn across the floor. Dirty
dishes in every bedroom and dirty napkins piled high on the
kitchen table. Working by herself, it took three hours just
to get everything back to normal. Would they even still be
alive if she left for three days?
So she'd need to bribe them, convince them to tone
down their messy ways while she was gone. It would take six
tons of honey, a handful of hair braids, and a slip and
slide.
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CHAPTER TWO
Chapter Two: Hope in Honey
Fortunately, the Friday of the convention was her
third oldest sister's birthday. While Betty's sisters slept
late, she woke up an extra hour early to prepare her
sister's birthday celebration, baking a funfetti cake with
sprinkles and extra cream to fill the house with the smell
of loveliness. She laid the slip-and-slide across the
backyard grass, turned the nozzle of the water hose
covering the front of the slide.
But not the back half. No way, no how. She had special
plans for that. She rolled the six jugs of honey over, each
taller and wider than she was. She had found them last week
by the expressway leading to her house. A few early
mornings and she'd rolled them home. With a devilish grin,
she opened the tops and poured the honey all over the slip-
and-slide.
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It was so thick and gooey that it rose high above
the ground, wobbling tenuously, waiting to consume
unsuspecting approachers or be consumed by the hungry.
When the sisters awoke, Betty invited them for
cake and birthday games. They pushed and shoved, struggling
to get everything first.
"I'm the birthday girl. I should get the first
slice of cake!" Ashley squealed.
"I'm the oldest, therefore I rule over you all and
I say I eat first." Olivia ordered.
"I'm the most sensitive to germs. If I don't get
the first slice, the cake will be exposed to all sorts of
gross bugs. I need the first slice." Margarette whined.
"It's my day for special favors. Everybody else
got their special favor days. My special favor is getting
cake first!" Young Valentine chimed.
"Oldest first." Isabel, the second oldest sister
reasoned.
Of course, none of the sisters could agree on who
would get first so they all grabbed as much cake as they
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could and stuffed it into their mouths as quickly as
possible. Nobody bothered to thank Betty for baking the
cake, but she didn't mind. She was happy to see how much
they enjoyed it.
While the crumbs were still falling from their
lips, the sisters turned toward the slip-and-slide. It was
so shiny and wet. Everyone wanted a try. Once again, they
all wanted to be first, for all the same reasons. They
fought and clawed and yelled but just as before, what
decided it was when everyone ran and jumped toward the
slide at the same time. The water splashed into the grass
in waves that upturned anthills as the girls slid faster,
faster with glee upon their faces. By the time they noticed
the towering honey, it was too late to move out of the way.
Splat! The girls stuck to the matted honey. They
tried to lift their hands. Globs of honey swished across
them. Their bodies and legs sunk like quicksand beneath the
mountain of sweet orange goo and it took all their energy
to keep their heads from falling in too.
Betty came over with four baby bottles of water
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and placed one next to each sister's mouth.
"What's the meaning of this? Let us out!" Olivia
cried.
"It's only for three days while I'm away. The
honey has plenty of nutrition for food and makes a warm
blanket. We wouldn't want the house to fall down without
me."
"This is the worst birthday ever!" Ashley yelled.
"Well, it sure will be if you keep screaming like
that." Betty said. "Maybe you can take the time to get to
know each other."
But the sisters would have none of Betty's
logical, rehearsed words. They screamed and cried and
threatened revenge. Betty took the watery side of the slide
and draped it over her sisters. Their cries immediately
muffled under the tarp. Mom would just think there were
some stray animals loose.
"Hi mom. I'm ready to go!" Betty said cheerfully
as she walked back inside.
"The house looks so clean honey. Get in the car,
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I'll drive you to the bus station." Mom said.
In no time at all, young Betty was a hundred miles
from home in New Heathen City. Interesting people glittered
before her from the moment she entered the American Girl
Panda Bear 50th
anniversary collection convention. Women of
all ages, with makeup drawn boldly around their eyes all
the way up to their ears. It was supposed to make them look
like panda bears, but truth be told, they looked more like
freaky aliens. Always in two shades of color, they slapped
on purple and black, green and orange. Black and white if
they were particularly uncreative. Covered with mounds of
glitter and sequins. Betty had never seen anybody like
them, and she knew instantly, she wanted in.
She was surprised to see so few little boys and
girls there, but it made sense. Of the thousand owners of
American Girl Panda Bears, 800 were full grown women, 180
were full grown men, and only twenty were young boys and
girls. After all, a stuffed panda is a lifelong companion.
A fifty-five year old woman with a crooked nose, hairs like
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dead autumn grass, and ears as shiny black as an oil spill
smiled and waved at Betty. She held her panda bear's hand
and puppeteered it to wave too. Betty felt a rush of
warmness coming through her. She smiled back and held her
gaze until the woman sided to the clothing accessories
booth.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. It is now
time for the main event. The great American Girl Panda Bear
collection convention competition. Three challenges to
discover the greatest Panda friend among us, with one
deserving winner coming home with their own custom designed
special edition Panda Bear. Sign up at the booth but
beware, you can't refuse any challenge, and they will test
you as you've never been tested before. Choose wisely."
Larry the announcer was a tall wiry man in a white
fur coat and black galoshes. He walked toward the stage in
the back of the conference hall, sheparding flocks of
panda-faced people behind him. He looked like the kind of
man as likely to lead a three-ring circus as be top sales
man at the Wringley bubble gum confectionary. Equally drawn
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to fun as he was drawn to controlling people. He had
constantly tried to blow himself up, projecting the
greatness of mass and success he could never achieve in
that skinny skin.
The contestants signed away their liabilities and
lined up on stage. In total, only two hundred of the
thousand attendees registered to participate. They were old
and satisfied. Another panda in the family would be too
much to take care of, and most weren't confident they could
do a proper job of making the panda feel part of the
family. They had their own pandas, and they loved them, and
that was enough.
But Betty didn't have any panda. She didn't even
have parents that would tuck her in at night, or sisters
that would walk her across the street to meet the ice cream
truck. There was nobody in the entire world that Betty
could open up to, and she had a very big place in her heart
for the panda that could fill it.
"Step right up, contestants. Don't be shy.
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CHAPTER THREE
Chapter Three: Bravery in Bamboo
The contestants grabbed their sticks and began to
barrel away at it. Turner the Terrible had been a Coney
Island sideshow act for twenty long years, bitterly
entertaining children by swallowing swords and letting
small children staple ten dollar bills to his chest. Now,
it all paid off as he suppressed his gag reflex, lowered
the entire tube of bamboo down to his stomach, and let his
stomach acids do the breaking down for him.
Sylvia Silinca karate chopped the bamboo and
gritted it between her teeth until it had the consistency
of sand. Her taste buds had stopped working thirty-five
years earlier after chugging a cup of hot coffee on a bet.
She won thirty dollars from her coworkers and would claim
the bet was worth it, but poor Sylvia had no more taste
buds or vocal cords. She whispered out death, secretly
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screaming for someone to pour her heart out to, one who
would sit and listen all day with nothing but praise for
her ways. Thus dedicated, she ate the bamboo without
protest.
As for young Betty, she did as she always did when
given clear instructions for a task most disturbing and
unfair. She took out her handy pocket fork and knife,
cutting and eating the bamboo branch one piece at a time.
Mom had told the girls they must clear their plates before
leaving the table, but as she was always the first to
leave, on call with her various girl friends, the older
sisters simply piled their unwanted leftovers on Betty's
plate. Always obedient and cheerful, Betty simply learned
to enjoy cold asparagus and chicken-bone strewn skins and
broccoli. The bamboo wasn't worse or better than anything
she'd had to eat before, so she grinned her way through it
without a word.
Onlookers were delighted at the victors' success,
for they were surely in the minority. Boris the lifelong
bachelor looked at the bamboo for so long even the bamboo
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started to get uncomfortable. Then he nibbled at it
cautiously, and finding something slightly distasteful, put
it down and complained to Larry that all the other
contestants got bamboo so much riper and fresher. Booted.
Coral, the fifty year old woman who still thought
of herself in her younger days, those being when she was
five years old, stuck the stick up her nose and expected
the bamboo to do the hard part of chewing itself. When she
realized the stick wasn't moving, she threw a tantrum until
she too was thrown off the stage.
In total, one hundred thirty five contestants
couldn't get past the bamboo challenge. But enough talk
about the failures you're far more interested in the
champions. Sigh. You fussy readers should know Both Coral
and Boris had written TV scripts detailing their lives.
Both thought of themselves as stars in a television show
aired every day, not on their screens but through their
eyes. Their lives were so interesting, so full of
misadventures, yet just like their TV scripts before, they
were kicked off the stage and not another word was said of
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them.
"Ok contestants. Time up. Everyone put your bamboo
sticks down. If you're still around, that means you advance
to the next challenge. Oh, isn't panda life grand? Come out
back everybody, our next challenge is set up outside."
He led them through the auditorium to a door with
a disabled red 'Emergency Exit Only' sign above it. Instead
of finding an empty lot with trashcans as Betty expected,
she saw towering trees as high as the third story of their
hotel. They were bamboo once again, with heavy branches
sticking out in all directions like a topsy-turvy
porcupine.
"To appreciate the hardships of a Panda, one must
learn to move their way. Climb one tree, cross the bamboo
branches and climb down the other side. Those that make it
back down on their own merit will move on to the final
round."
Dozens of middle aged women, a handful of greying
men, and Betty raced toward the trees. Turner the terrible
wrapped his giant hands around the trunk and began to climb
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but he kept getting jammed. Looking down toward his
stomach, he realized with horror that he hadn't taken his
most recent batch of stapled bills out of him. Letting kids
staple his skin made him the wealthiest street performer in
town, but it always left him sore for a day after he took
them out. Too sore to suffer scraping up a tree. This left
Turner the Terrible in a tricky situation. He continued to
catch on small branches and unsmoothed trunk, as parts of
his abdomen hung onto the tree while his hands tried
desperately to ascend. He wiggled and wormed, slid and
squirmed, until he could do so no more. Turner the
Terrible's staples were so stuck across the tree that he
could move no more. Booted.
A fat bald man whose name was too difficult for
Larry to pronounce climbed over Turner and continued
upwards. Meanwhile, forty contestants were still trying
desperately to get more than three feet off the ground.
They kept jumping up and sliding down like firemen. But the
only fire here was burning in their hearts, and it was
quickly extinguishing.
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Betty grabbed the trunk and slid down like the
rest. She looked up past the leaves and branches, to where
she needed to go. Think like a panda. This time, when she
jumped up the trunk, she bit with her two front teeth as
hard as she could. Crunch, went the trunk. Tastes just like
bamboo, Betty confirmed. Using her teeth as a third arm,
she climbed higher and higher. As light as she was, the
branches held her easily without swaying, and she crossed
comfortably.
This time, only fifteen people accomplished the
challenge, making it to the third round. Only the most
dedicated, panda-like people remained. Betty gulped down
her fear then followed Larry back onto the stage inside.
She smiled at him, but he ignored her. An announcer had to
be impartial, after all.
"Now, audience, you may have been watching the
contestants thinking, why is that announcer going so easy
on them? I could do a much better job of picking the true
panda person than he could. Well, now I leave the fur in
your coat. For the last test, contestants will explain why
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they deserve the American Girl Panda Bear Collection
Convention Special Edition Bear. Applaud and circle
contestants after they share their stories. May the most
heartwarming win!"
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CHAPTER FOUR
Chapter Four: Safety in Stories
Nearly 1,000 men and women clutching their panda
bears encircled the remaining contestants. They all looked
so strange with their colored glitter makeup around the
eyes. To Betty, as they stomped, jeered, and stared with
teeth bared, they were hunting predators, not the warm
family looking to adopt someone new into their midst. If
she had anyone to turn to, she would have run off the stage
right there. But there was nobody waiting for her.
A thirty-year-old man in the circle stood up
first. He wore red suspenders and a straw hat with enough
thistles sticking out to feed a horse. His face was flushed
with the red stains of someone who ate an entire cherry pie
forehead first.
"My name's Cleo. I've been a farm boy all my life.
When I was five years old, my best friend was a pig named
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Charles. Charles and I would roll around in the mud for
hours, snorting and honking each other's noses, racing to
the fence and back. I'd stick stickers on his back and he'd
flip me into the grass until I was green. We were
inseparable.
Then one night, dad made the most delicious dinner
for us. Pork loins with cranberry sauce. I must've eaten
more that night than all week combined. He said he'd just
signed a deal with a county distributer and we'd be selling
more than ever. But I never saw Charles again.
It took me a long time to get over the loss of my
best friend. But when I was eight, I met Calvin the Cow.
Calvin was so good at learning tricks. He would moo when I
told him to speak. He would chew grass when I told him to
chew. He would even play dead whenever I tipped him over.
We would lie in the fields for hours, just talking and
making mud pies. Calvin could even make his own mud.
Then one day, dad was so excited, he told us all
about his new business partner who was going to make him
rich. We had him over for dinner that night, and we had the
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most delicious steaks my dad has ever grilled. And I never
saw Calvin again.
It was many years before I could make another
friend. Every time I started to get close, I was afraid dad
was watching in wait to part me from the ones I loved. So I
grew up into the teen years, milling the hay and collecting
sheaves of wheat for the horses. But that all changed on my
twenty-second birthday. We got a new litter of lambs. The
moment I saw her, we were in best friend love. We'd
baaaaaa' at the moon, snuggle up at bedtime, even eat
dinner out of the same bowl.
But even though I could keep dad out of my dreams,
I couldn't keep him out of the pen. After a few months, dad
was serving lamb at our table, and I had no one left to
talk to.
All I want is a best friend my dad can't eat. The
American Girl Panda Bear is stuffed with genuine Egyptian
cotton, tender enough to sleep with but too firm for dad to
digest. Could you please make this poor farm boy's dreams
come true, and give him the friend his parents never
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could?"
Everyone awed in sympathy, with polite applause.
They cared, but not enough to want him to win. Something
about his story made them feel if his dad hadn't wanted him
to have a best friend, it was best not to stand in the way.
Three other contestants shared their stories, all
of which were much too ordinary to share with you now. The
usual sadness and sense of belonging that everyone feels at
some point or another. And then, all eyes turned to Betty,
who had been so caught up with everyone else's stories that
she quite forgot to prepare her own. If only they didn't
live so far away, she would have given anything to be
friends with them. But now Larry was calling her name on
the microphone, louder each time with a hint of aggravation
growing.
"Betty, if you don't talk soon, we'll be forced to
disqualify you. Which would be an awful shame, considering
you're the only child to have qualified for the final
round."
"I don't...." Betty choked out a whisper. She'd
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CHAPTER FIVE
Chapter Five: Cotton is Soul Candy
"You don't have what? A story? A microphone? A
special edition collector's contingent American Girl Panda
Bear? Speak up girl, speak up!"
"I don't have any friends!" She cried.
"Oh." Larry said.
But now that the first words were out, Betty
couldn't stop. It was like a single log had been removed
from a dam and the flow had broken.
"I don't have any friends. I don't have any
friends. I do all the work for my sisters and mother and
father and nobody likes me. Any doll I get is from the
trashcan after my sisters throw it away and as soon as they
see me with it, they rip its head off just to be mean. I
know life isn't fair and I'm not angry with them, but they
have friends.
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I only want one friend. One friend I could call my own.
A friend nobody could claim was theirs because everyone
who's anyone would know it's mine. A friend I could tell
all my secrets to, who we could climb up to the highest
trees and eat softly from the bamboo leaves, who'd hide
away when trouble was near and comfort me in my darkest
fears. Whose hug would melt nightmares and stomach would
always be open to share. From the moment I saw, I knew
nothing could compare to an American Girl Collection Panda
Bear."
Betty's face was covered in tears. Her body shook like
a hummingbird, each limb turning numb individually in order
to tell her brain to cool it with all the talking. It was
all she could focus on until the clapping hit her. Not the
polite clapping from before, from all those sad lonely
stories before her, but real, excited momentous applause,
the kind reserved for last second winning touchdowns and
gold-medal Olympic gymnastics. The crazy ladies were
smearing their makeup as lines of purple and black poured
from their eyes to their chins. The crowd circled around
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Betty, pushing the other contestants to the sides.
They chanted, "We will bear with you, as true as
bamboo."
Larry spoke up, "It seems the crowd has spoken. But to
be fair, there are ten other contestants who have yet to
go. Would any still like to share their stories, or can we
declare Betty the winner?"
The contestants looked from the crowd to each other and
surrendered to the excitement. Nobody had the heart to
wrestle a friend from a girl so in need of love. One by
one, they offered Larry their resignations and joined the
crowd. And as each one joined, the crowd's cheers grew
louder.
"Just one cock-a-doodle peacocking feather of a minute.
You haven't heard from the great Queen Mathus of
Ulickistein. Quit your gloating and parading, I've worked
far too hard to be besmirched now."
The crowd turned and glowered at the Queen. Her voice
crowed, hanging onto random words for far too long, mixing
up expressions in tongue-twisted finesse. She wore a tiara
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studded with diamonds, a long blue frock with floral
pattern, and a scarf of so many colors that Betty wondered
if it fell off a rainbow.
Her neck was as long as a Condor's wing, covered in
multi-colored scarves to more properly resemble a homeless
person's idea of rich people. She was covered in so many
layers, a collage of ten crazy cat ladies rolled into one.
And while the entire crowd slowly realized their jubilant
celebrations were premature, she addressed them.
"I've worked faaaaaar too long a slave in the city,
dreaming ever since I was a young-in' even squatter than
that girl to have a friend as close as you all. You think
life's so difficult for a little girl with no friends? I've
been without friends all my life. You think this princess
thing comes easy? All I got is a bunch of cock-a-mamey two-
bit suitors and a legion of enemies who dream of taking
over my kingdom. This slimey goo-ball plays you for chumps.
I'm the real victim here."
Nobody knew how to respond, as all eyes turned to Larry
to lead. He gave the why-are-you-looking-at-me? shrug, then
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saying, 'You're a blight on the neighborhood Mathus. Get
that grass cut already.' To have someone by who joins in
adventures through the murky swamps of backyardia. A knight
to slice mosquitos in half when they stand in the way of
our treasure. Will you be my sidekick knight, Larry?"
The crowd went wild for that idea, holding their Pandas
above their shoulders and clapping their paws in silent
applause. Larry squirmed his professionalism was being
compromised.
"Queen's are rich, right Mathus? Why don't you just buy
an American Girl Panda
Queen Mathus stuttered. "You can do that? My mother
always told me 'money can't buy you love'. Are you saying
she lied to me?"
"It sounds to me like your mother didn't want you
spending money. Almost every person in this room bought
their American Girl Collection Panda Bear, and look how
happy they are." Larry waved his arm over the throngs of
smiling, make-up drenched adults in the crowd. "Don't you
want to be like them?"
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"I do I do. I had no clue. Making a friend is as easy
as one, two." She whipped out a credit card rubber banded
to her furry rainbow scarf. The crowd roared with delight,
and Mathus roared back.
Larry handed off the card to a service representative.
On his way back, he whispered to Betty. "Don't believe
everything you see. Money only buys happiness when everyone
else has given up on you. You should never depend on money
for love."
"But she looks so happy." Betty said, as Mathus
clutched her brand new American Girl Panda Bear. Mathus
smiled radiantly at the crowd and they lifted their Pandas
to welcome her into their group hug.
"She found friends." Larry said. Then picking up the
microphone to address the crowd, he said. "Without further
adieu, I am thrilled to announce the winner of this
extraordinary American Girl Collection Convention
Competition. We are surrounded by the Panda elites, and
this little girl has proven herself among the top ranks. We
can all look forward to seeing her climb to ever-greater
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heights. Please join me in welcoming Betty Hassen!"
The crowd lifted Betty up and passed her around, above
the heads of all. She floated on the fluff of a thousand
custom stuffed, Panda Bears, each of whom had been
absorbing the emotional power of a combined best friend
diary for decades. The warmth and comfort atop cotton was
incomparable. For the first time in her life, Betty felt
full. The crowd wave cruised Betty back to the stage, where
her Panda awaited her.
Panda wore green suspenders and a blue belt imprinted
in cursive gold lettering: American Girl Best Friend For
Life. His face held a black nose curved toward two black
eyes and a straight-laced mouth that said, tell-me-more.
His hands and feet were lined with surface sensitive
Velcro, able to attach to its owner instantly while easy to
peel off. Betty hugged her Panda with instant attachment.
Betty came home with a framed plaque asserting her
unique relationship with Panda. Her sisters had given up on
squirming but, finding conversation beyond taunts tiring,
spent all three days listing things and people they
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disliked. By the time Betty came home, her number one place
had been practically forgotten by the dozens of others who
had filled the time.
"This is my Panda. If you hurt him or take him from me,
there are a thousand adults who will help me. Everyone
knows he is mine. I will keep doing your laundry and we
never mention this weekend again. Deal?"
"Alright, fine, whatever. Just let us out of here
already. Do you know how long it's going to take to get
this honey out of my hair?" Olivia said.
"Happy Birthday Ashley!" Betty said. Finally,
everything was as it should.
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