Contents
Dedication
Praise
Other Books
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Thanks
Acknowledgements
About the Author
For Gifford, Luc, and Rowan.
Praise for The Case of the Wilted Broccoli
"I liked the book a lot! Out of all of the books I have read this is the best one!" --Luka (Age 8)
"I really like this story." --Jeremy ( Age 10)
"The kids loooooooove it." --Katrina, mom of Daphne (Age 8) and Zucca (Age 6)
Praise for William Hertling's science-fiction novels for teens and adults
"Chilling and compelling" --Wired
"Awesome near-term science fiction." --Brad Feld, Foundry Group managing director
"An insightful and adrenaline-inducing tale of what humanity could become and the machines we could spawn." --Ben Huh, CEO of Cheezburger
"A tantalizing study of the future of technology: both inviting and alarming." --Harper Reed, former CTO of Obama for America
Children's Books by Will Hertling
The Case of the Wilted Broccoli
Novels for teens and adults by William Hertling
Avogadro Corp: The Singularity is Closer than it Appears
A.I. Apocalypse
The Last Firewall
For more information, visit http://www.williamhertling.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by William Hertling
Smashwords Edition
Keywords: mystery, detective, food supply, middle grade, drones, quadcopter, elementary school, spy planes, investigation, children's mystery, children's investigation, school cafeteria, science fair project, amateur sleuth, spy camera
CHAPTER ONE
THE WEIRDNESS STARTED at lunch on Monday, but Willow didn't discover that until a few weeks later. Willow was in the fifth grade at Mt. Hood Elementary School in Portland, Oregon. She had two brothers, Elon and Linden, fraternal twins that looked different from each other. They were all named for trees, because that's the sort of thing people did in Portland.
Willow said sayōnara to her Japanese teacher, Akiyama Sensei. After lunch she'd go to English. In her school, half the day was taught in Japanese and half in English.
She got to the cafeteria and sought out her best friend, Atlanta, who waited by the hot lunch line. Basil joined them too, getting in line behind Willow, receiving and ignoring a dirty look from the kids he cut.
"Hey," he said.
Boys were so eloquent.
"Hay is for horses, Basil. Good afternoon to you," Willow said, with a slight smirk, looking down at Basil. The second tallest student in the school, she looked down at nearly everyone.
The three had been friends since their first-grade class together. Basil's name, pronounced BAH-zell, had been the subject of many food jokes when they were younger.
Atlanta and Willow chose teriyaki beef and broccoli, and Basil slid a peanut butter and jelly sandwich onto his tray, the same thing he picked every day.
Bringing their lunch to a table, they planned their science-fair projects as they ate, trying to ignore a group of unruly fourth graders at the next table. A straw rose up from the crowd and Willow yelled "Dang it!" and ducked.
A spitball flew harmlessly over her head, landing in Basil's plate. He glared at the fourth graders, then sighed and hunkered down low with the girls.
"I want to do a hair-braiding project for the science fair," Atlanta said, "and make ropes strong enough to hold someone."
"Wicked," Basil said. "With a long enough rope, like twelve feet or so, you could make a swing people could use! That'd be the most popular project."
"Yeah, cool," Willow said. "But, where would you get enough hair? I mean, my braid probably is strong enough to hold a person, but it's not even a foot long."
"Other kids would give us their hair," Atlanta said, "and after the science fair, we'll donate what we collect to make wigs for people who don't have any."
"Brilliant! They have an organization that collects hair for people with cancer," Basil said. "Can I help?"
"Sure," Atlanta said.
Willow doubted the feasibility of their plan to donate the hair. Even if kids contributed their hair, and Basil and Atlanta successfully made a giant braid, how would they separate the mixed hair back into the right sets for donation? She couldn't imagine people wanting wigs with a mix of hair colors. But one glance at Basil's and Atlanta's faces was enough to see they were excited. They'd get bummed if she brought up all the reasons it wouldn't work, so she smiled and kept quiet.
"Awesome," Basil said. "I'll set up a stand by the main entrance with scissors and cut kids hair when they come to school." He turned to Willow. "Can I have yours?"
"What? No way!" She took a quick glance at her brown braid. It'd taken years to grow out to this length. She glanced at Atlanta, whose short blonde hair would be of no help.
"You're in too, right?" Basil asked.
"Nah, I'm doing a project with Elon and Linden," Willow said.
"Your brothers?" they cried out in unison.
"Yeah, Elon wants to build an autonomous drone." Though Willow loved her brothers, it could sometimes be challenging for all three of them to get along. Elon had convinced them the drone would be the best science fair project ever, but the only way they'd get it done was to work together. And Willow wanted to win.
"A what?" Basil asked.
"An autonomous drone. An airplane that flies itself and takes pictures to send to your phone or computer."
Basil glanced back and forth between Willow and Atlanta, obviously thinking that a self-flying plane sounded way cooler than hair braiding and trying to figure out how to renege on his participation with Atlanta.
Atlanta saw this and stared hard at Basil, challenging him to go back on his word.
His shoulders slumped a little and he managed a weak smile. "Let me know if you need any help. Maybe I can find some time."
"When you're not braiding hair," Atlanta reminded him.
"Yeah, then." Basil went back to his sandwich.
Poor Basil. The drone might become the coolest science fair project ever done at Mt. Hood Elementary.
After lunch, they studied reptiles in Mrs. Dozen's class during the English portion of their day. Their teacher had brought in her pet snake for the month, a not-too-surprising occurrence. So far this year she'd produced a parrot (disruptive to class), a rabbit (surprisingly smelly), a chicken (pooped everywhere), a turtle (tripping hazard), and a ferret (it bit). Willow tried to imagine Mrs. Dozen's house, but what came to mind was the Oregon Zoo. How could all these animals coexist in someone's house?
They'd been waiting all week to feed the snake, a six-foot-long Brazi
lian rainbow boa constrictor. Today Mrs. Dozen had a mouse squeaking in a box on her desk, and the class tried to concentrate on her lecture, but the snake smell had the mouse shrieking in dire fear.
Willow's stomach turned flips, but not because of the snake. Even though the idea of the snake eating a mouse grossed out a few of her classmates, Willow was interested in watching. She couldn't imagine how a whole mouse would fit into such a slender body. No, her stomach hurt for some other reason and the feeling kept getting worse.
"Ready, class?" Mrs. Dozen called out. "Assemble quietly around Mr. E. Shorter people in front please."
Everyone rushed for the cage, and Basil hurdled a table to get near the front.
"Class," Mrs. Dozen said in a voice that somehow was and wasn't a yell at the same time.
They all froze.
"If we rush towards Mr. E, he'll get scared and won't eat. Please walk like a ninja."
The students resumed, tiptoeing, Basil still in front, somehow. A few kids hung back, and Natalie had her eyes covered.
Mrs. Dozen reached in and extracted the mouse. Willow wrapped her arms around her now-grumbling stomach, a slight sweat breaking out on her forehead.
Mrs. Dozen held the squeaking and wriggling cute little guy firmly in one hand. There were a few "oohs" and "aahs" near the front, and a solitary "oh, gross."
"Um, Mrs. Dozen, can I use the restroom?" Atlanta said, one hand up.
"Right now?" Mrs. Dozen said, the mouse dangling over the cage.
"Yes, it's an emergency."
Mrs. Dozen sighed. "Fine, go ahead, but I'm not waiting."
"Thank you," Atlanta said, and rushed for the door.
Everyone tightly packed into three concentric rings with Mrs. Dozen, the mouse, and the snake at the epicenter.
The class collectively held their breath as Mrs. Dozen brought the mouse closer to the cage.
Willow's stomach rumbled again, and she thought she might need to fart. Or maybe poop. Or maybe throw up. The sweat came a little faster on her forehead.
"Mrs. Dozen," Willow said, holding one hand up as she held her stomach with the other. "I really need to go to the bathroom, too."
"No way, Jose," she said. "You and Atlanta can't go at the same time."
It's true, Mrs. Dozen made this rule halfway through the year, when Atlanta and Willow took a little bit too long of a trip. Maybe forty minutes too long, an escapade eventually requiring the vice principal, custodian, and gym teacher to track them down.
"I, uh, really need to go."
"Not till Atlanta comes back," she said, never taking her eyes off the cage.
Everyone pushed in a little more as Mrs. Dozen slowly let the mouse down. The little rodent ran around the circumference of the rectangular tank two or three times, whiskers going crazy, then froze when it saw the snake. It dashed frantically for a hiding spot, trying but failing to scurry under a rock.
Mr. E, dormant in one corner until now, stuck out his tongue, which flickered in a blur. His head raised as his body uncoiled and he slowly turned in the direction of the mouse.
Tightly packed in, Willow found herself in the midst of three rows of her classmates, Basil in front to her right, and at least nine kids surrounding her. Her stomach surged once more. OMG, she was going to throw up. She needed to get out, permission or not. She tried to push her way out of the crowd, but everyone crammed in, trying to see better.
She opened her mouth to scream that she needed to get out immediately, but instead of words, what came out was a stream of yellow vomit. As she realized what was happening, she struggled harder to push her way out. But she kept throwing up as she turned around, chunks of teriyaki beef and broccoli flying out. Everyone else screamed and scattered to get away as she finally broke free and stumbled toward the wastebasket.
Leaning over the garbage pail, her stomach heaved, and for a moment she couldn't think of anything, though she heard a hubbub behind her. The cramping gradually subsided, and she glanced back to the sight of the whole class staring at her.
Well, everyone except for the half-dozen who were freaking out. In the tight-packed crowd, she'd somehow managed to hit Nicolas (in front of her), Basil (front-right), Alice (right), Caden (behind-right), and Emma (behind), before finally breaking free. Still other kids stood in a yellowish puddle, lifting first one foot, and then the other, unsure of what to do. Nancy picked a piece of broccoli off her shirt.
She weakly pointed toward the cage. "Look!" But it was too late. Mr. E had swallowed the mouse and no one saw it, because they were all watching her.
She wanted to disappear from planet Earth.
CHAPTER TWO
LINDEN AND BOBBY snuck up behind Elon and Kazuki, who were playing wall ball. Linden mimed pulling out his lightsaber as Bobby did the same, and they attacked in unison from behind, Linden slashing sideways as he made the saber-cutting noise.
Elon and Kazuki startled at first, then caught on instantly, ducking and twisting, pulling out their own sabers and using the Force to hold Linden back.
In a fierce series of blocks and counterstrikes, the battle continued until Kazuki called out, "Got you!"
"No," Linden yelled, "Bobby blocked you."
Kazuki stared into empty space. "Oh, right, sorry about that." He turned and fought a wicked one-on-one battle against Bobby only he could see, while Linden and his twin-brother, Elon, cheered them on.
Bobby was the fourth member of their group. They had invented him two years ago, in the first grade, when they started turning in homework assignments for him. Their first grade teacher caught on pretty quick, and she'd even grade and return his homework and call on him in class. Of course, he never answered. Gradually word got around, and most of the school knew about Bobby now. He even won a perfect attendance award last year from the principal.
After recess, sweaty from the playground, they walked back to the third-grade classroom. Linden stuffed his lunchbox into his backpack, but Elon was hot lunch, so he walked into class empty-handed.
They took their seats in the Japanese classroom for the afternoon.
"Gakusei kon'nichiwa. Chakuseki sa sete kudasai," their teacher called out.
"Kon'nichiwa," the kids replied in unison, taking their seats as instructed and saying hello.
Elon, sitting one table over, rubbed his stomach and whispered, "I don't feel so good," to Linden.
"Go to the office then," Linden said, glancing over at him.
Elon nodded.
While the teacher handed out papers, Linden forgot about Elon and started to think about their science-fair project. Elon wanted to build an electric self-flying airplane. The science-fair committee had been doubtful they could do it. But the three siblings demonstrated the Lego robot they'd built during the summer to clean up Legos (their mom had said, "How meta!"), and Willow showed off the computer program she'd written from scratch to chat with her friends over the Internet. Suddenly the committee was convinced.
Linden drew shapes in his head, thinking about the design. Elon was just plain awesome at building physical stuff, and Willow was going to write most of the computer code, so that left Linden with planning the structure and components. The plane needed to carry itself, a battery, a computer chip, a camera, and a transmitter to get the pictures back to the ground. He wondered whether Elon wanted to just take pictures to view later, or if he expected to see the video from the camera live while the drone was in the air.
He turned to whisper the question to Elon, but his seat was empty. He must have gone to the office after all. As Linden looked around, he noticed a lot of empty chairs, which was funny, because when they started school today, no one was absent.
CHAPTER THREE
ON WEDNESDAY, WILLOW'S parents dropped them off at school. Elon and Linden ran outside to play while she met Atlanta in the cafeteria to hang out before school started. The ever-present food odors made her nauseous and glad she'd brought lunch from home.
"Let's get out of here," Atlanta said, obv
iously feeling the same way.
Willow nodded and they walked upstairs.
After being sick on Monday, Willow and Elon had to stay home on Tuesday. It was her first time back since leaving the classroom covered in vomit. Aside from Atlanta and Basil asking if she was okay, and a snide comment from Natalie, most of the rest of the class seemed to have forgotten about her throwing up on Monday. With so many kids that went home sick, apparently even projectile vomiting wasn't that remarkable.
"Twenty-three kids went home sick on Monday," Atlanta said. "The school nurse says it was stomach flu."
"I don't think so," Willow said. "It was what I ate." Even thinking about Monday's lunch made her queasy.
"Me, too," she said, but then the teacher came in and they had to cut their conversation short. They spent the morning learning kanji for foods and writing essays in Japanese about what their families ate at home. Then they had to read the essays out loud.
When Atlanta read "Watashinokazoku wa yūshoku no tame ni inu o tabeta," the class broke into laughter, because she said her family eats dogs.
"Furankufuruto," Akiyama Sensei corrected.
Later that day, after lunch, they went to Mrs. Dozen's classroom. Willow looked for the snake on entering, but Mr. E and his cage were gone. He'd been replaced by, of all things, an armadillo in a baby playpen.
The morning food theme continued, a conspiracy between their English and Japanese teachers.
Mrs. Dozen started class by showing them how to use a bread-maker. She mixed flour, yeast, salt and water, and then dumped the ingredients into the bread-maker. After they each had a turn to watch the mixer in action, they took their seats.
"Where did the flour come from?" the teacher asked as the smell of warming dough wafted over the room.
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