Hanazuki: An Egg to Crack

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Hanazuki: An Egg to Crack Page 3

by Stacy Davidowitz


  Dazzlessence studied his notebook, tapping the pen against his diamond head. “I don’t know, CP . . .”

  Chicken Plant pounced at Dazzlessence’s notebook and ate it whole.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! You just ate three weeks of sketches and sheriff reports!” He produced his badge, which read: DAZZ, DIAMOND DETECTIVE AND SELF-PORTRAIT ARTIST. “I kindly ask that you follow my orders. Birth my notebook and answer the rest of my—”

  “We are FINITO with the quack questions,” Chicken Plant broke in. “Go out and find my Tenders already, you DUMB DIAMOND! I want a SEARCH PARTY! I want MISSING: CHICK PLANT posters! I want THE BEST REWARDS offered! FIND THE CHICKNAPPER NOW!”

  “Hey,” Hanazuki said, wedging herself between them. “Let’s take a deep breath, you two. It’s OK, Chicken Plant. Of course you didn’t chicknap your own son. I saw you when Tenders was born. You had hearts in your eyes.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Hearts? Blech. I so much as see a heart and I practically vomit.”

  “Well, then, what’s the big fuss all about?” Hanazuki asked. “Why else would you want him back?”

  “I DON’T WANT HIM BACK!” Chicken Plant popped an egg. It cracked open, revealing Dazzlessence’s notebook. She ranted on. “You’ve seen my other offspring. They always seem cutesy-tootsey when they’re first born, but give it a day and they become absolute nutcases. You want Tenders to destroy our moon?! Find him before it’s too late! This is not my problem. It’s YOUR problem.”

  Hanazuki handed Dazzlessence his gooey notebook. “Let’s get Tenders back to us. I already miss the little guy.”

  “Me, too. Who else is going to call me Dunkle Diamond?”

  “Probably no one. Wanna spearhead this investigation together?”

  “You got it, Ace.”

  “LESS WEIRD DETECTIVE TALK,” Chicken Plant screeched. “MORE INVESTIGATION.”

  “Where do you think we should start?” Hanazuki asked Dazz.

  Chicken Plant answered for him, “YOU SEE THE HEMKA OVER THERE? START WITH THEM. CHOP-CHOP.”

  “On it!” Hanazuki and Dazzlessence said together. They rushed over to all ten Hemka, who were bathing in Rainbow Swirl Lake.

  “Hey, early risers,” Hanazuki greeted them. “Did you hear that Tenders is missing?” They nodded sleepily. “That’s great, because—”

  “We are on to YOU!” Dazzlessence interjected.

  The Hemka looked up in confusion. “YA-YOO GAKKA?”

  “Stop colluding. Mouths closed. Ears up,” Dazz commanded. The Hemka, still in the lake, raised their ears above their heads. “Now listen up, Hemka. Every creature’s guilty until proven innocent.”

  “Um, I think you’ve got that backward,” Hanazuki whispered to Dazz. “Every creature’s innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Nope.” Dazzlessence spun, showing off his sparkle. “I’m the Shiny Cop. You’re the Good Cop. Go with it.”

  Hanazuki’s mind flooded with questions, but Dazzlessence was already directing the Hemka out of the lake and into a line. “Mug shot tiiiiime!” He flipped to the back of his notebook, wiped the egg-white goo from the page, and began sketching each of his suspects. When he’d finished, he slammed his notebook shut and paced up and down the line like a drill sergeant. “Fill me in, Hemka. What leads have you got on Tenders’s whereabouts?”

  Red stepped forward in a salute. “ZA HAT DUG WIT KROW NWANZ WIN GUZ.”

  Dazzlessence began to jot it down and then paused on “WIT.” “I forgot that I don’t speak Hemka.” He faced Hanazuki. “Can you translate, partner?”

  “Sure!” She crouched down in front of Red. “Hey, buddy. I know we had a rough day yesterday, but you think you can help us out? Any idea who might have taken Tenders?”

  He rolled his eyes like, Duh, I just told you, then repeated himself. “ZA HAT DUG WIT KROW NWANZ WIN GUZ.”

  “Cool . . . That’s a great lead . . .” She paused. “Actually, I’m still lost.”

  Red repeated himself a third time, and when that left Hanazuki scratching her head again, he began hopping up and down, annoyed. He pulled the other Hemka into a huddle. “ZOO ZA GREE CHA-CHA YOO-YA. GRU YA-ZOO YA?” he asked them. They made some weird untranslatable noises and then stood in a semicircle around Red Hemka, waiting for their cue. He waved his ear at them, and they began to shape-shift, charades-style:

  (a) Red Hemka, Orange Hemka, and Yellow Hemka fused their bodies and danced like a flame. Fire!

  (b) In sync and bum to bum, Purple Hemka and Pink Hemka walked on their ears, like a medium-sized animal with four legs. Lavender Hemka morphed into the tail. Lime Green Hemka lay belly-down on top of them with his tongue hanging out. He panted. Puppy!

  (c) Teal Hemka pointed to the flower on Hanazuki’s head. Mood plume!

  (d) Blue Hemka and Yellow Hemka scrunched their faces and flapped their ears. Cute bugs!

  The Hemka morphed back into their normal squishy selves. Red stood tall with pride and waited for Hanazuki to put it all together. She tried really hard, slowly saying, “‘Look for a fire puppy with a mood plume who wants cute bugs.’”

  Red slumped over.

  “What did you see?” Hanazuki asked Dazz.

  “I saw ‘A fiery mini-elephant with hair flaps,’” Dazz said. “Do we know any chicknapping fiery mini-elephants with hair flaps?”

  “No. I don’t know any elephants at all.”

  They both looked at Red. He was ear-slapping himself. “GRU GA SA-SA!” he shouted at the Hemka, ordering them back into a huddle. It was taking a long time. Dazzlessence tapped his cowboy boots against the moon earth, waiting for a fresh charade. Hanazuki tried to wait patiently, too, but quickly realized she was digging her fingernails into her palms.

  “QUIT STANDING AROUND!” Chicken Plant screamed in the distance. “FIND TENDERS! NOW!”

  “Forget it, Red,” Hanazuki said. “If you can’t get the Hemka to shape-shift into something helpful right this instant, we’ve got to move on.”

  Red morphed into a ketchup bottle.

  “C’mon, this is no time for games.”

  Red morphed into a jar of sauerkraut.

  “Not funny, Red!”

  Dazzlessence tugged at Hanazuki’s elbow. “This is a waaaaste of time, oh baby!”

  “I know. Sorry.” They began to walk away, but Red wrapped his ears around Hanazuki’s arm. “GREE GRAH ZU CHEE YOO!”

  Hanazuki peeled him from her forearm and laid him on the ground. “You’re not helping, Red! I can’t stand here all day trying to figure out what you mean! If you have something to say, FIGURE IT OUT with the other Hemka and TELL ME LATER.”

  Red began flapping his ears against the moon earth, tantrum-style.

  “DID YOU FIND TENDERS?” Chicken Plant squawked. “ASKING FOR A FRIEND.”

  “Tell your friend, ‘Not yet!’” Dazz sang back.

  “WELL, GET ON IT, YOU PAIR OF POLICING NUMBSKULLS.”

  As Hanazuki jogged off, she felt her cheeks getting hot. Thanks to Red and their own failed policing, she and Dazz had just wasted precious time. They needed to step up their game STAT for Tenders, for Chicken Plant, for the safety of the moon! BUT HOW?! Hanazuki’s panic spiral was suddenly curtailed by Little Dreamer, who flew by in a onesie the many colors of fire. “Woozie woo wa,” he whispered, dropping her a treasure the shape of a mini hotdog.

  “Thanks,” Hanazuki said flatly, tucking it into her back pocket. Then, as Little Dreamer zipped ahead, she realized he might be able to help. “Snoozy dude, wait!” she called, racing to meet him. “My partner and I are on a mission to find Tenders. He’s been chicknapped. The Hemka were useless. I know it’s a long shot, but any ideas?”

  “Woo-wee-wah.”

  “Yeah, us neither. I mean, who would have motivation to chicknap Tenders? Is there a moon creature who has something against Chicken Plant? A moon creature who craves chicken meat? A moon creature who has no self-control?”

&nb
sp; “Dah shah tah.” Without warning, Little Dreamer floated off into the sky, leaving Hanazuki all alone with her spinning thoughts. A moon creature who has something against Chicken Plant. Who craves chicken meat. Who has no self-control.

  Something clicked. “THAT’S GOT TO BE IT!”

  Dazzlessence lurched forward to her side. “Who? Where? What?”

  “No. I mean, I think I know what the Hemka were trying to tell us. ‘A hotdog with a crown who wants chicken wings!’”

  Dazzlessence swallowed his gum whole. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Next stop: Doughy Bunington.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE PLOT THICKENS

  “We so appreciate your cooperation,” Hanazuki told Doughy Bunington as she took a seat across from him at a picnic table on the Dark Side of the Moon. Dazzlessence Jones paced menacingly around the table, and dodging the former’s stomping cowboy boots was Red Hemka, who’d followed them to the interrogation without so much as a grunt.

  “Cooperation is key for a cook,” Doughy said, pointing to himself. “Both start with ‘coo’ for a reason.”

  Doughy Bunington didn’t cook treats so much as he farmed them, but Hanazuki wasn’t about to pick a fight. “That’s a fun fact,” she said instead, leaning into her “Good Cop” role. “So, if it’s not too much trouble, we have just a few questions for you.”

  “And I have just a few croissants for you!” Doughy tore the napkin cover off a bowl of croissants, except it was just a bowl. There were no croissants inside.

  Hanazuki forced a smile and joked, “Should we use our imagination?”

  “This is not a game,” he said. “Go on into the field, Hanazuki. Pick some fresh ones for the table.”

  Hanazuki did everything in her power not to snort. “With all due respect,” she said, “we don’t need croissants, and I certainly don’t have time to collect them. This is an urgent matter.”

  “You can’t expect me to answer urgent questions on an empty stomach now, can you?”

  Hanazuki’s smile dropped. “Of course not.” She went out into the field and plucked the first three croissants she could find, then rushed back to the picnic table.

  Dazzlessence was staring with suspicion at Doughy’s bulging belly. “Empty stomach you say?” he asked.

  Hanazuki knew he was implying that Doughy’s belly was filled with Tenders. She’d noticed it bulging too, but had hoped it was just gas.

  Doughy sniffed the croissants. “Empty as a cave that’s empty,” he said.

  Dazzlessence narrowed his eyes. “Hanazuki, what do you think about Doughy’s claim that he’s running on an empty stomach?”

  Red, who’d been strangely silent this whole time, tried to insert himself into the detective duo. He raised one ear to Hanazuki as if giving her a thumbs-up, then turned to Doughy and dropped his other ear as if giving him a thumbs-down. Then, he leaped onto Doughy’s face and pried his mouth open.

  “AHHHHHHH!” Doughy screamed.

  “Whoa! Red! Stop!” Hanazuki cried.

  Red didn’t stop. He stuck his ear down Doughy’s throat and fished around for evidence.

  “Hey! I’m talking to you!” Hanazuki grabbed Red and dropped him to the ground. “Dude, you can’t attack the suspects. Dazz and I have got this.”

  Doughy massaged his jaw. Then, wasting no time at all, he bit into a croissant.

  Hanazuki turned her attention back to Dazz. “I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions,” she said. “If Doughy says his stomach is empty, it’s empty. After all, Mr. Bunington is a highly regarded moon denizen.”

  “Of course he is,” Dazzlessence said. “All highly regarded moon denizens are exiled and sentenced to life on the Dark Side of the Moon. Riiiiight?”

  “That’s right, I’m a good hotdog,” Doughy said, unbothered, croissant crumbs flying from his lips. “I’ll explain my eating habits more. My stomach is always empty because I never get full. Thank the pastry gods that ‘stuffed’ is a feeling I’ve never experienced. What is it like? Just thinking about it makes me want to curl up near a fire and bawl my eyes out.”

  Dazzlessence slammed his fist onto the table. “Quit jerking us around and tell us WHY your belly is bulging! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?!”

  Doughy rubbed his belly guiltily. “All right. You caught me. I had a blueberry donut binge for breakfast and then a scone sampling for mid-morning snack. They were so good that my body won’t relieve them. Compliments to the chef! That’s me. I’m the chef.”

  “We know,” Dazzlessence sang.

  “And yet, I’m starving! Do you hear my hunger pangs?”

  Hanazuki leaned close to Doughy’s belly. It rumbled like an approaching stampede of goats. “Wow, someone get this hotdog more food.”

  Red was on it. He rushed into the pastry farm.

  “Savory, please,” Doughy called after him. “Bacon cheddar! No, Bolognese brisket! No, chicken adobe!”

  “Aha!” Dazzlessence said, shoving his finger in Doughy’s face. “Chicken!”

  “Chicken?” Doughy chuckled. “No, you misunderstand me. I said, ‘chai kin.’ Sounds the same, tastes different. Chai kin means ‘a spice in the same family as chai.’ Like cardamom.”

  “That sounds like a lie,” Dazz said.

  “The proof is in the pudding.” Doughy reached inside his bun and pulled out a cup of chocolate pudding. Just then, Red returned, recklessly tossing six cupcakes onto the table. They tumbled into Hanazuki’s lap, and the icing globbed onto her skirt.

  “Really, Red?!” she said, putting the cupcakes back on the table. “You couldn’t be more careful?”

  “Thank you, Red thing,” Doughy said, admiring his buffet. “In theory, this should be enough food.”

  “It is,” Dazz said.

  “But forget hungry. All this confrontation is getting me hangry. That’s hungry plus angry. I feel like I’m being interviewed for MoonTop Chef.”

  “You’re not,” Dazz said.

  “That’s what they’d like me to believe.” Doughy devoured four cupcakes in a single bite. “Their producers like to go undercover.”

  Dazz drilled down on the suspect. “Where were you LAST NIGHT at the CRACK OF MOON?” he demanded.

  “Sleeping,” Doughy answered. “No, night farming. No, night eating. No, sleeping.”

  “Were you ‘sleeping’ on the Dark Side or the Light Side?”

  “Both? I sleepwalk, so it’s hard for me to say.”

  “Aha!”

  “Aha what? Did I win? Am I on the show?” Doughy rammed the last two cupcakes into his mouth. “If you’re taking me somewhere, I’m going to need donuts. If you’re not taking me somewhere, I’m going to need donuts. My brain requires fuel—beep beep!”

  “Fine!” Hanazuki interjected, then raced through the pastry farm again. She plucked two donuts and then turned back, bumping right into Red! He was carrying donuts, too, and they fell out of his ears and onto her feet. Meanwhile, the donuts she was carrying smashed against her top. “UGH, RED! COME ON! NOT AGAIN!”

  “GAH FRU ZEE,” he said. He tried to brush the crumbs off of her, but was only rubbing in the oil stains, making it a whole lot worse.

  Hanazuki shooed him off. “You’re messing everything up. Why don’t you get some rest?”

  Red lay on top of an apple strudel and pretended to sleep. Then he popped back up with a high five, and accidentally flung a piece of apple strudel at Hanazuki’s head.

  “What is wrong with you?!” Hanazuki shouted. “Take a breather. Waaaaay over there.” She directed him to a mushroom on the other side of the pastry farm, then plucked two more donuts and headed back to the picnic table alone. Why had Red followed her here? Was he trying to mess up the investigation? Keep Tenders away from them?

  Dazzlessence grabbed the donuts from Hanazuki and brought them to Doughy.

  “Oh, goodie!” Doughy clapped. “These are my newest invention—French crullers stuffed with pumpkin spice custard. Haven’t
even tried them yet!” He went in for a chomp, but Dazzlessence crumbled the donuts in his fist and tossed them at Doughy’s forehead. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

  “That’s the price you pay,” Dazz said, wiping his crumby hands on Doughy’s bun. “And this is just the beginning. Things are about to get a lot nastier unless, of course, you CONFESS.”

  “Confess?” Doughy whimpered. “Confess to WHAT?”

  “So that’s the game you want to play, huh?” In a mad dash, Dazzlessence used his diamond edges to hack an entire row of jelly donuts apart. He returned to the table, covered in raspberry jam.

  “AHHHHH! YOU MURDERED MY BABIES! THEIR BLOOD IS ON YOUR DIAMOND!”

  “You jerk me around one more time and I destroy the entire farm!”

  Doughy squeezed his lips together in defiance. Dazzlessence hacked up another row of the pastry farm. This time, he got the pomegranate turnovers.

  “NOT THE TURNOVERS! STOP! STOP! PLEASE! STOP! FINE! I ADMIT IT!”

  “Here then,” Dazz said, sliding over his notebook and a pen. “Write out your confession.”

  Doughy scribbled as fast as he could. When he lifted the pen, Dazzlessence snatched the notebook back and read the confession aloud. “I, Doughy Bunington, confess to selling my signature apricot scone recipe on the moon black market.”

  What? Hanazuki thought.

  “No, no, no, no, NO!” Dazzlessence ripped the confession from the notebook, crumpled it up, and threw it to the ground. “We want you to confess to chicknapping Tenders! You know, the MISSING CHICKEN PLANT BABY?”

  Doughy lit up like a Christmas tree. “There’s a missing Chicken Plant baby? Like, on the loose? Alone, vulnerable, and delicious? OH, HAPPY DAAAAAAY!”

  “Not happy day! NOT HAPPY AT ALL!” Dazz sang angrily. “YOU CANNOT EAT THIS CHICKEN PLANT.”

  “How ’bout his wings?”

  “NO.”

  Still, Doughy flapped his bun with excitement. “But did you know that Chicken Plants have wonderful regenerative abilities? That’s why Chicken Plant was able to grow her wings back after I ate them. Regular chickens, not so much.”

 

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