Twenty-three years ago Brenard, better known as Bean, in a land far far away… (which was really just the same town he would eventually become mayor of) the man, the myth, the star of “Bean’s the Officiant” and “Bean’s Big Blunder,” is 12 years old and ready to embark on the adventure of a lifetime—or at least the adventure of his middle school career. One that might stick with him for longer than he thinks…
~*~
“Alright class! Everyone on the bus!” our teacher announced. My whole seventh grade class leapt from their seats and stampeded towards the door of the cafeteria, to the buses parked outside. The handful of coffee creamers I was delicately working to balance in a pyramid tumbled to the desk in the chaos.
Winifred, my sister, helped me to quickly shove them in my pockets before trying to usher me towards the door with everyone else.
“Come on, Brenard! We gotta go. I wanna get a good seat on the bus because I’m not sitting on the wheel hump like last year. My knees were killing me after that…” she insisted. “Hey, why do you have a bunch of coffee creamers anyway?”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because you don’t like coffee?”
“And that’s a good reason to not keep coffee creamer on you? That sounds like a sad way to live. Besides, we’re going to a coffee bean farm. I’m just being prepared.”
Winifred grinned at the mention of our field trip. She’d been looking forward to this big seventh grade field trip since we were in elementary school.
Every year, the seventh-grade class takes a trip to the local coffee bean farm to learn about the plant cycle, farming practices, and a whole bunch of other educational stuff. By the time our teachers had gotten to the rest of it though I’d stop listening and had been preoccupied with stacking my coffee creamers.
“Have I mentioned I’m excited?” Winifred squealed as we inched our way towards the door. “I mean how lucky are we that the only coffee farm in the entire state is just down the road from us?”
“It’s the only one in the state because the climate here isn’t suited to growing coffee plants. They primarily thrive in tropical regions like Central and South America.” Edward, our triplet, interjected. He looked just like the nerd he sounded like, clutching a book to his chest and a huge pair of glasses sitting on his face.
Winifred rolled her eyes.
“And you primarily thrive in nerd-ville,” she mocked. “So, what if they aren’t meant to grow here? I think it makes them unique.”
“That’s the reason they drag us out here on this field trip. So the farm can stay afloat financially. The farm offers our school a free field trip and then drags us into their gift shop to take all the money our parents gave us for lunch instead.”
The whole time Edward spoke, Winifred silently mocked him, mimicking his mouth movements and hand gestures. He sighed, realizing it was pointless to explain to her and instead pushed past her to take a seat on the bus far from us. The bus ride was noisy with thirty teenagers crammed so close together. When we finally pulled into the farm gates, it looked kind of desolate, with most of it covered a slight layer of frost. Most of the plants in view looked a little wilted and just…sad.
“Must be from all the hot weather we’ve been getting,” Winifred commented, while wearing a thick wool sweater and earmuffs like the rest of our class.
After we took attendance again (I assume to make sure no one jumped out the window of the moving bus on the drive over), we all filed off the bus and listened to the tour guide begin their lecture about their process of growing beans.
Winifred fake snored and looked over at me.
“This is so boring. Wanna go check out what’s in that thing over there, Brenard?”
She pointed to a tall, grey building.
“Sure, why not?” I shrugged.
We quietly slipped from the group, but were quickly caught and grabbed by Edward, which was impressive as he was still holding his thick book at the same time.
“You guys can’t leave,” he hissed.
“Sure, we can,” Winifred said. “And you’re coming with us.”
His eyes widened, and he looked terrified, but she clamped her hand over his mouth and pulled him away from the group. How no one noticed the calamity between the three of us, I wasn’t sure. We made it into the building Winifred had pointed at and climbed up a steep set of steps.
“Woahhhh!” Winifred and I exclaimed when we reached the top. Below us was a giant vat of beans, which smelled suspiciously like coffee. Even Edward looked impressed. He leaned closer to look at them, and I was so sure he was going to start yammering on about the variety and quality of them until I heard a light tsss!
“No, my book!”
His textbook had slipped from his hands and into the vat of beans.
Suddenly, there were voices from below us.
“Quick! Let’s get out of here!” Winifred said.
“I can’t. It’s a library book and if I lose it, I’ll lose my perfect return record!” Edward cried.
“Yeah, that’s not a thing. Come on, before we get caught,” she said, tugging at our arms.
Looking at Edward’s face and then back down the steps where the voices of what sounded like our tour group grew louder, I dove into the vat without thinking.
It was colder than I expected a bunch of beans to be. I found the book and tossed it up to my distraught triplet, who clung to it for dear life.
“Now pull me up!” I shouted. Winifred reached and strained, but I’d slipped too far down to grasp her hand. The more I struggled, the further I sank, until the beans were up to my shoulders.
There were steps on the stairs and then suddenly our class appeared on the landing where my siblings were standing.
The tour guide looked shocked to find two middle schoolers already there and one going for a leisurely swim in what would soon make coffee.
My teacher looked between the three of us, and then settled on me, looking disappointed and tired of our antics, but not surprised.
“Oh, Bean.”
