No. He deserved to be there. He was amazing, after all.
Harriet waddled closer to Wilmer. She had been approximately twenty millimeters from him before, but was now about ten millimeters away, or so Wilmer estimated.
“You’re standing on my foot,” he said. Harriet inched back another five millimeters.
Elvira looked around at the eager faces of her audience, a sparkle in her eye. “I would also like to introduce Clarence Dillard Sneed, the caretaker of the hotel. Why, he loves children almost as much as I do!”
A tall, powerful but frazzled-looking man nodded from the side of the room. The few strands of his remaining hair were combed over his large, balding head. He wore a maintenance jumpsuit and held a large cardboard box. He grunted a raspy hello.
Elvira cleared her throat. “Mr. Sneed has been working very hard to get everything ready for the weekend and to keep the hotel in tip-top shape. Like me, he is here to serve you. Well, not actually serve. We’re not tennis players. But we will do our best to make this a weekend none of you will ever forget. Although I bet most of you won’t remember anything.” She laughed, and so did Mr. Sneed, which struck Wilmer as odd. He hadn’t heard anything funny.
“But I’m pleased as punch—and heaven knows punch can be very pleased with itself—to introduce someone else to you,” Elvira continued. “Someone who needs no introduction, but whom I will introduce anyway. You all know her as the star of her own television show. I know her as my sister. May I welcome our special science fair judge: Valveeta Padgett.”
Mrs. Padgett smiled—a tight, wincing smile—and waved. The kids cheered and clapped except for Wilmer and Ernie. Wilmer’s stomach clenched. If she was the judge, winning the science fair wasn’t going to be easy.
“Children, you’ll notice Mr. Sneed has a box,” Elvira continued. “As he makes his way around the room, please drop all your cell phones, cameras, games, tablets, headphones, and most especially, your iNoises inside. As you know, this is an electronics-free weekend. Be quick. You’ll get them all back as good as new. Or even better.” She laughed again, and so did Mr. Sneed. They certainly were two very happy people.
The kids in the crowd groaned as Mr. Sneed roamed around the room. Wilmer was the only kid in the entire hotel without any electronics to surrender.
Ernie plunged his iNoise into his back pocket and out of view. “You better give that to Mr. Sneed,” said Wilmer.
“No way. A weekend without electronics is like a weekend without joy.” Ernie shivered. “I feel so very cold.”
“I’m not giving up my tape recorder or headphones,” insisted Roxie, clutching her gadgets. “I’m a reporter, after all. Gwendolyn Bray wouldn’t do it, that’s for sure. I’m not even in the competition, anyway.”
Mr. Sneed finished gathering the gadgets, although he didn’t notice Roxie’s or Ernie’s. The oversize box looked very heavy, but the brawny hotel caregiver carted the box out of the room easily.
Wilmer also noticed loose wires sticking out of Mr. Sneed’s back pocket. The poor man was probably busy all weekend laying cables, fixing lights, and doing other handyman jobs. It must take a lot of work to be the caretaker of an entire hotel.
Elvira rapped the microphone and its loud pop pop attracted everyone’s attention once again. “We have a wonderful weekend planned. Tonight we will have a massive welcome feast, filled with foods you’ll love. Tomorrow we have a whole menu of science activities to choose from, capped off by the famed Science Night Hike. It’s a consortium tradition! Each of you will be dumped into the forest and you must find your way back to our lodge without being eaten by bears. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
A few kids, including Ernie, groaned, while others, such as Harriet, squealed with excitement.
Wilmer thought back to the drive to the hotel. His father had driven down a long and twisting dirt road, past cornfields and forests. The hotel was in the middle of nowhere. No, it was in the middle of the middle of nowhere. Getting lost in the woods at night was a distinct possibility.
But he was the Amazing Wilmer Dooley. He could do anything. Bears didn’t frighten him. Much.
A fly buzzed by Elvira’s head. She swatted at it.
“She seems very professional,” said Roxie. “I’ll need to interview her for my radio show.”
Wilmer nodded, although with only tepid enthusiasm. There was something about the woman that disturbed him. Maybe it was because she smiled just a little too brightly, or because she had just caught the bug buzzing around her head and was now tearing its wings off with a snort.
Wilmer scoffed at his overactive imagination. The fly probably had it coming.
Science, he knew, was based on observation, not imagination.
“And on Sunday,” Elvira continued, “we will hold our world-famous science fair. I wish everyone could win. Why, then I’d give each of you a big squeeze, and then squeeze and squeeze like a boa constrictor!” She laughed. “Except an eighteen-foot boa constrictor can squeeze at approximately twelve pounds per square inch, and I could never generate that much force. But anyway, all of you are winners just for coming!”
The crowd cheered. Kids roared and clapped with enthusiasm. Wilmer just felt confused.
Ernie nudged Wilmer. “Why aren’t you clapping with enthusiasm?”
“I thought Elvira said she wasn’t a scientist, but that boa constrictor fact sounded very scientific to me.”
Ernie shrugged. “Maybe she just likes snakes.”
Wilmer nodded, shrugged, and joined in on the applause. He needed to stop being so suspicious of people. He needed to focus on science and on the competition. Mostly on science. Like his dad said, he was here to learn!
But he couldn’t completely lower his defenses. Claudius and Vlad had returned from wherever they had been lurking, and now they stood by Wilmer, giggling to each other. It wouldn’t surprise Wilmer if they were planning something bad. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. He inched forward a half step and leaned over, just close enough to overhear any evil whisperings.
There was plenty of time to learn science. Later.
“This weekend really blows,” said Vlad.
This comment spurred a snicker and a nod from Claudius. “I bet science will erupt everywhere!”
Vlad nodded. “Oh, yes. The fair will be spewing science.” He laughed so loudly, spit flew from his mouth.
“What’s going on, Wilmer?” asked Harriet, who leaned over alongside him.
“I’m not sure,” said Wilmer, straightening. “At least not yet. But I’ll find out. And if necessary, I’ll save the day.”
“Well, you are amazing,” Harriet agreed.
CHAPTER SIX
FROM THE DESK OF VALVEETA PADGETT
Things to do this weekend:
- Write and review scripts for Padgett!
- Sign autographs ( it’s so hard to be famous, but I can’t let down my fans)
- Break in brand-new shoes
- Judge science fair (choose anyone but Wilmer Dooley)
After the introduction from her sister, Valveeta Padgett basked in the claps and adulation of the children. She acknowledged their cheers with a mild half wave, like a princess might throw to a crowd of fawning peasants. “Thank you, thank you.” After all, her show Padgett! was now the sixth most popular show on local access cable television, during her time slot on Sunday mornings.
But not everyone stared at her with admiration. A couple of kids glanced away, looking at . . .
Him! Wilmer Dooley! The rat. He threatened to steal some of her thunder, as he had done with those silly TV appearances and magazine articles throughout the summer. But anyone could have saved the school. He had been lucky, that was all.
His luck was going to run out this weekend if Mrs. Padgett had any say in the matter. And as the only judge of this science fair, she had plenty of say.
She rued his presence, knowing full well he wouldn’t even be attending the fair if she hadn’t nominated him. Prin
cipal Shropshire had insisted, saying that thousands of people were saved because of Wilmer and that twit, Ernie Rinehart.
Hardly! It had been her lab, her precious supply of cowitch powder, and her vats and burners that had saved the school. Wilmer Dooley was just a no-good credit-stealer, that’s what he was. The school wasn’t saved because of Wilmer Dooley, but despite Wilmer Dooley.
As she stood there secretly stewing, the loudspeaker went off, and Mrs. Padgett covered her ears. Her mind went fuzzy for a moment. The infernal PA system screeched like a million rusty hinges. This whole hotel was falling apart.
Mrs. Padgett looked at her sister, glowing and smiling at the crowd. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Surprising. Elvira had always hated children. Even as a child, Elvira disliked her classmates. She had changed quite a bit, which was probably for the best. Elvira was the black sheep of the family.
Wilmer spied Claudius and Vlad creeping off together, whispering and sneering. He considered following them. He could hide under that potted fern, dash behind the registration counter, and scamper up into the ceiling ducts. Or not. Ceiling ducts were full of dust and pollen, and Wilmer had allergies. Following them would also require quite a bit of slinking. And amazing people didn’t slink.
Meanwhile, Harriet inched closer, which Wilmer didn’t think possible. The top of her head was only about one hundred micrometers away from Wilmer’s chin. Her eyes stared into his head like a fiber laser. Wilmer was forced to look away, fixating on the cracks lining the creaking walls and the water stains on the ceiling. This place was a dump, no doubt about it. But his ruminating was ruined when the loudspeaker over his head blared with a loud, ear-splitting squawk.
This time Wilmer was ready. He quickly blocked his ear canals with his earplugs. The other students were not so lucky. Many held their hands over their ears to lessen the horrible squealing noise.
Although his ears were plugged, the announcement was so loud Wilmer could still hear it. As before, the voice was so distorted that Wilmer wasn’t sure who—or what—was talking.
“Attention, dear, dear students. We’re just tidying up the exhibit hall and then you’ll be able to set up your science fair projects. In the meantime, please go up to your rooms. We will call you down when we’re ready. Don’t forget to wash up! Always scrub behind your ears and between your toes. And your belly button.”
Wilmer nodded. He always cleaned carefully behind his ears, scrubbed between his toes, and thoroughly lathered his belly button. He didn’t need the reminder. But it was good advice, all the same.
Then the announcer gave what Wilmer thought was, just maybe, a sort of maniacal chuckle, and muttered the word “Fools!”
But through his earplugs, the electronic distortion, and the slightly numb feeling in his brain, Wilmer couldn’t be certain of anything.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dear Journal,
Ernie and I are relaxing in our room until we’re called down. Ernie bounced on the bed when we came in, but he broke a couple of springs. And the TV doesn’t work. And there’s no room service. The phones are out too. And our window faces a brick wall.
Ernie also complained that his iNoise gets no reception, so he can only play a few games. The kid is seriously addicted to that thing. I don’t know why anyone wants to play games when science is afoot!
It’s more than afoot here, though. It’s also a-leg and a-hip and a-spleen . . . an entire body of exciting scientific discoveries just waiting to be dissected.
This will be the best weekend ever. Or I’m not the Amazing Wilmer Dooley.
“Amazing.” “Wilmer.” Those words go together like “whooping” and “cough.” “Chicken” and “pox.” “Photo” and “synthesis”!
Wait. There goes the loudspeaker again. There’s one right over the bed! I guess I’ll be sleeping with my earplugs in. We’re being called down to put our exhibits in the main showroom, have dinner, be kind to strangers, and hug a Canada goose.
It’s a little strange that every announcement ends with a piece of good advice, but I guess it’s helpful. I would never have thought to hug a Canada goose before now.
Scientific name: Branta canadensis.
I hope I can learn science all weekend. And win the science fair. And discover what Claudius and Vlad are up to. And get Ernie off that iNoise before his brain turns to jelly. That might be the hardest job of all.
Signing off,
(The Amazing) Wilmer Dooley
Wilmer dragged his enormous science project box into the exhibit hall while Ernie softly tossed his shoe box up and down. The room reminded Wilmer of his school cafeteria, except it was filled with many small tables rather than a few very long ones, and it lacked the smell of processed meat. A slight chalky taste of dust filled the air. As kids set up their projects all around him, the soft, invigorating hum of science made the small hairs on Wilmer’s arms tingle.
Or maybe the hum was from the many oversize fluorescent light fixtures that hung from the ceiling and filled the room with a bright, flickering glow.
Wilmer found his name tag on a table. This is where he would set up his sure-to-be award-winning exhibit. Wilmer would need every inch of the table to fit his expansive project.
He opened his box and gazed at its contents with a gentle smile. He had spent weeks getting ready. Some nights his mother had brought dinner up to his room so he could continue working without interruption.
His room now smelled like asparagus-and-pickled-beet pasta with chicken gizzards, which had been last Thursday’s disturbing supper.
But it was worth it. Wilmer felt confident. He still needed a couple of hours to arrange the banner stands, position the leeches just so, and ensure that the projector was set up with the perfect magnification and display. But then it would be first place–worthy.
Ernie’s table sat directly next to Wilmer’s. Ernie dropped his shoe box on it. “I’m done. No. Wait.” Ernie opened the shoe box and stuck a wire into his potato. “Now I’m done.”
“Not very impressive,” said Wilmer.
“Maybe not,” agreed Ernie. “But if I get hungry I can always eat my exhibit. Can you eat yours?”
Wilmer supposed he could eat the leeches if he was desperate. They probably didn’t taste much worse than his mother’s onion-coated garlic-gumbo balls. He still broke out in sweats at the mere thought of their oozy mashed-pea insides.
Scanning the room, Wilmer was impressed by many of the exhibits. The girls Lizzy and Tizzy were building what looked like a giant ant farm. One boy stood in front of a six-foot-tall pumpkin and a large sign about fertilizer. Another table featured a huge papier-mâché model of DNA spinning in a tall plastic tube.
Then Wilmer saw Harriet.
A few tables over, the sixth grader was setting up her project. It looked as grand as Wilmer’s. Maybe even grander, he thought with a groan. Her exhibit actually looked very familiar. It featured retractable banners, a movie screen, a dozen glass vials, a jar of leeches . . .
“I did my project on contagions and the Mumpley plague,” Harriet told Wilmer as he approached. “I’ve written a four-hundred-page book on bacteria, which I’m showing as a 3-D hologram. I have created a special breed of leech that sucks blood twice as fast. I have two electron microscopes to demonstrate bacteria at a molecular level. And I have a short movie starring Harvard’s head of bacteriology discussing the principles of epidemics.”
“But my exhibit is all about the Mumpley plague too,” moaned Wilmer. Only yours is better, he thought.
“Oh, Wilmy!” exclaimed Harriet. “You’re so adorable! My exhibit can’t compare to yours! True, I found a cure to the Mumpley malady that’s more effective and cheaper to produce than yours, but you saved the town of Mumpley, not me.”
Wilmer burned with jealousy, but he couldn’t stay angry with Harriet. Not after she stumbled back and said, “Sorry. I can’t help but swoon in your presence.”
Across from Harriet stood Claudius and Vlad. A very tall black bo
x sat on their table. They didn’t open it. They just chuckled with malicious sneers.
“What’s inside the box?” asked Wilmer.
“None of your business,” barked Vlad. “But it’ll blow the roof off this place.”
Claudius chuckled. “Good one, Vlad.”
“We’ll have a blast,” snickered Vlad.
“Boom!” added Claudius with a nearly hysterical guffaw. They both held their stomachs and rolled on the floor with hoots of laughter.
Wilmer’s eyes narrowed into slits. Yes, they were up to something.
“And how is everyone doing today?” asked Dr. Dill. He strode quickly across the room. Vlad and Claudius stopped laughing and stood up. Vlad straightened his bow tie, and Dr. Dill delicately patted his nephew on the top of his head. “I’m so glad you came this weekend.”
“What about me, Dad?” asked Claudius.
“You should be glad your cousin is here too.” Dr. Dill patted Vlad until his Beethoven ringtone blared. “Oh, my special phone!” Dr. Dill exclaimed, answering it. “Dill here. . . . What? He’s come down with Butter Fingers? We’d better make sure it doesn’t spread. . . .” Wilmer didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as Dr. Dill wandered away.
Claudius frowned, but then Vlad tapped him and whispered something in his ear, and the frown turned into a snarl—one aimed directly at Wilmer.
Wilmer was preparing to snarl back. It would be a tremendous snarl, possibly the most tremendous snarl of all time. When you were Wilmer Dooley—the Amazing Wilmer Dooley—you couldn’t just give an everyday snarl, after all. But then Harriet grabbed his hand. It’s hard to snarl while hand-holding.
“Do you mind?” she said, scooting closer. “My hands are cold, and they warm three-point-five percent in your presence. Did you know that modern thermometers were invented in the early eighteenth century? Of course you do! You know everything!”
Wilmer hadn’t known that, and he smiled awkwardly. He wanted to pull his hand away, but scientists need warm hands when handling delicate temperature-sensitive elements. It was his scientific duty to allow hers to heat.
The Amazing Wilmer Dooley Page 3
