The Green Beans, Volume 1: The Mystery of Hollow Oak

by Gabriel Gadget

  "Hey, Neil, this is just like real life!" Sara told him through the headset. Her voice had a slightly tinny quality through the transmission, but there was no lag in the banter.

  Neil had a game controller gripped within his hands. Jack was beside him, holding an identical controller. They were sitting on the floor of the den, playing Virtual Baseball on the large T.V. before them. Their schoolbooks, notebooks, and pencils were resting beside the game console, where they had been left when their homework was done.

  There were two empty bowls, which had once contained blueberry pie with vanilla ice cream on top. Now, they were as clean as could be, because once the boys had finished their dessert, Nibbler had proceeded to lick the bowls until there was nary a crumb left behind.

  The Labradoodle lay beside them, his eyes tracking the activity on the screen with great interest. His tail swept slowly from side to side, and he gently nibbled upon a discarded shoe that he had found nearby.

  "Dude, you got smoked! I mean, you got smoked!" Jack exclaimed. He repeated this last, as if Neil had somehow missed it the first two times. "Smoked, I tell you!"

  Nibbler chuffed softly, in apparent agreement.

  "I blew that fastball by you like you weren't even there," Sara said. "You just can't catch up to my heat!"

  "I'm telling you, I think there's a hole in my bat!" Neil insisted. "It must be some kind of glitch in the game's programming."

  This triggered a new bout of giggles from Sara and Maria, who the boys could hear over their headsets. Neil and Jack were playing a game of baseball against the girls online, two on two. The headsets enabled them to communicate with each other while they played, even though Sara and Maria were in their own house, up the street. It was the wonder of the Internet.

  Sara had just struck out Neil's character in the final inning of the video game. The girls had won, and they were quick to point this out to the boys. Though eager for a chance to redeem themselves, Jack could hear his dad calling to him from the dining room, telling him that they had to get home. And Neil's mom was calling to him that he needed to take a shower before bed (as well as brush his teeth, she reminded him).

  "I know, Mom, I know," Neil said. "Always with the teeth? I can remember, I'm telling you!"

  "Yeah, Neil, make sure you brush your teeth!" Maria teased him over the headset. "You've got to take care of your chompers."

  "Your chompers are mighty important," Sara chimed in.

  "Aw, come on!" Neil protested. "We almost had you that time. I hereby issue a challenge for a rematch, tomorrow night."

  "Right on!" Jack said, immediately voting in favor of the notion. "A rematch is certainly in order."

  "Ah, gluttons for punishment, are you?" Sara asked. "We'll be happy to accommodate."

  Maria chuckled. "How many times do we need to beat you guys, before you give up?"

  "We will never give up!" Jack declared, just before removing his headset. "Hey, where's my other shoe? ?Gah! Nibbler's gotten hold of it."

  Nibbler relinquished his prize, gently pushing it toward Jack with his snout. It was slick with saliva, and soaked with doggy drool, but otherwise undamaged.

  "Gadzooks!" Jack cried, grimacing as he slipped his foot into the wet shoe, creating a noticeable squelching sound.

  Footwear in place, he hobbled for the front door, favoring one leg, because the soaked and spongy shoe was a bit disconcerting to walk in. Nibbler walked beside him, wagging his tail and smiling, happy with his handiwork.

  Chapter Eleven

  What If?

  Having already taken his shower, Neil felt a deep weariness settle over him as he stood before the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth. It had been a typical day for him: long, fun, and exhausting. School, baseball practice, macaroni and cheese, homework, video games? it had been a good day, to be sure.

  As he moved the bristles of the brush over his teeth and gums, he studied his reflection in the mirror. His eyelids were drooping with fatigue, and it was all he could do to keep them from falling completely closed. He was so tired, it felt like he held a great weight in his hand, rather than a toothbrush.

  When Neil finished brushing his teeth, he sleepily walked the short distance of the second floor hallway, down to his bedroom. Once there, he pulled back the covers to his bed. But before he climbed in, he found his eyes drawn to the window of his room, and all that lay beyond.

  The curtains were pulled back, revealing the backyard, which was now draped in the dark of fallen night. However, the moon above was just shy of full, so there was a decent amount of illumination. A large maple tree crowded the back of the house, partially blocking his view. But looking through the branches and leaves, Neil could still see the patio, as well as the garden shed that was further back. It was an average sized yard, and where it ended, the forest began.

  Neil studied the woods with his sleepy eyes, slowly blinking. It was a warm, spring night, and the window was partially open. A breeze was blowing, and he could feel it as it came through the window, pushing against his body, stirring the folds of his pajamas.

  Likewise stirred by the breeze, the branches of the trees in the woods beyond were gently moved about. It created a whispering noise, as the leaves rustled, and rasped, and rattled the acorns. It almost sounded as if they were conversing in a secret, unknown language.

  As he stared into the woods, Neil's mind once more wandered to the strange things he had seen and heard earlier in the day, during baseball practice. He couldn't help but think of it? and what it might mean. Sure, the other players had thought he was just messing around, but his dad had taken him seriously, hadn't he?

  After all, this forest was deep and expansive, and there was no telling what secrets it might hold. And since these woods were all connected, stretching from the cul-de-sac of Neil's neighborhood, all the way to the school and the ball field? there remained the possibility that whatever had been lurking behind the outfield fence, might now be hidden in the trees and shadows beyond Neil's backyard.

  Some might think that he was being silly, but Neil's parents had told him many times to never repress his imagination. He thought to himself? What if?

  He looked into the woods, and wondered? was anything looking back? But Neil was too tired to ponder this subject for long, and he sleepily shuffled over to his bed. Exhausted, he sank into the nest of sheets and blankets on his mattress. He fell into a deep, peaceful sleep within moments.

  Not long after, as the breeze continued to blow, and the moonlight danced in patterns on the lawn, there came a sound from the woods.

  Neil murmured and stirred, but did not awaken. But had he been pulled from his slumber, the noise he would have heard, drifting through his window, would have been instantly familiar to him. For he had heard it before.

  And it would have been instantly familiar to you as well, my astute reader, for surely you remember it.

  The noise that Neil would have heard, had he wakened, would have been this: Rustle-rustle-rush-crush.

  Chapter Twelve

  Here Come the Hayseeds

  "What the??" Jack gasped.

  Choking down the food that was in his mouth with a grimace, he threw down his fork in disgust, where it bounced off of the table. He eyeballed the strange stuff that was in the container before him. It was greenish in color, inconsistent in texture, and questionable in identity.

  "Oh, no," Neil said, as he leaned over toward Jack, peering into the container. "I think your dad might have been experimenting with his 'special' again."

  "Yep," Jack agreed. His face seemed to have turned a shade of green that was remarkably close in color to that of his lunch. "That seems to be a very real possibility here."

  From across the table, Sara and Maria chortled at the transformation in their friend's complexion. The four of them were sitting in the cafeteria of Hollow Oak Elementary. It was lunchtime, and the huge, rectangular room was filled with the hustle and bustle of hungry schoolchildren.

  It was a noisy, busy plac
e. Laughter, and hooting, and hollering filled the air, as well as the sporadic cackling of the lunch lady, as she dispensed ladles of corn chowder from a gargantuan vat.

  "Here you go," Neil said, handing Jack half of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "You've got to keep your strength up for today's game, you know."

  "Yeah, Jack, eat up," Sara said.

  She passed some of her carrot sticks and tortilla chips across the table to Jack. Maria contributed a chocolate pudding cup, for added stores of energy.

  "Thanks," Jack said, digging into the food. "You guys are life savers."

  As he sank his teeth into the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Jack's complexion almost instantly transformed from the green tint it had acquired, back to its normal color. It was the miracle of peanut butter, a phenomenon the Beans had witnessed many times in the past.

  "Uh-oh," Maria said quietly, as she nibbled at her own peanut butter sandwich. "Here comes trouble."

  Neil followed her eyes, and saw who she was looking at. "Oh, no. Here come the hayseeds!"

  Hayseeds was a term he had heard his father use in regard to the approaching duo, and Neil had taken an instant liking to it.

  Striding over to the table, their hands casually hitched into the sides of their denim overalls, were two tall and bulky boys. Beneath their greasy overalls, they wore dirty T-shirts with tattered holes around the neck, and old, tanned work boots, with the laces undone. They were each chewing on a straw, sneering as their jaws worked.

  "Afternoon, Jebediah!" Neil said, tipping his head politely. "Afternoon, Cletus!"

  Ignoring the greeting, the tall boys slowed their stroll, and came to a standstill. They towered over the table, looking down at the four Beans who sat at it. They were the Cragglemeister Brothers. Already big for their ages, the fact that they had each stayed back in school for a year had only served to further enhance the difference in size they enjoyed over their classmates.

  Interested more in hillbilly pursuits than in schoolwork, they were what Coach liked to call hayseeds. They also happened to be pretty darned good at baseball? and they played on a team that the Green Beans considered to be their rival: the Summer Squashes.

  Removing his hands from his dirty overalls, Jebediah leaned forward, planting his palms on the table. The backs of his knuckles were scraped and scabbed, and his fingernails were caked with black crud. He lowered his face until his nose was just above the container with the lunch that Jack's dad had packed for him.

  "And what in tarnation is this supposed to be?" Jebediah asked, his nostrils flaring.

  With no thought given to the fact that the food did not belong to him, Jebediah poked his filthy index finger into the green slop, swirling it about. This didn't bother Jack too much, however, since he had no intention of eating Mr. Murray's "special".

  "It's extra," Jack said. He smiled broadly, showing his every tooth. "Would you like to have it? I'll share with you, buddy."

  Jebediah snickered. He withdrew his finger and examined the long nail, as green goo dripped from it. "Not on your life, runt. I'm guessing this is some kind of sorry excuse your pa packed you for lunch."

  Cletus stood behind his brother, hiccupping with slow laughter. The straw he was chewing on bounced around between his teeth. One could not deny his resemblance to a dimwitted ogre.

  Further emboldened by his brother's laughter, Jebediah removed a dirty handkerchief from the back pocket of his overalls. He blew his nose into it, causing a tremendous discord of noise and spectacle.

  Though he may have been a hayseed at heart, the Beans were fairly certain that Jebediah had enough sense in his head to know that it was incredibly rude to do such a thing. Particularly so, when done right over a table where a bunch of people were trying to enjoy their lunch.

  As the honking from his nose finally trailed off, Jebediah wiped his hands on the raggedy handkerchief, and returned it to his pocket. Though he had not washed his hands, and had no business handling anybody else's food, he picked up the chocolate pudding cup that Maria had given to Jack.

  "Hmm, this looks pretty good," Jebediah noted. "Maybe your pa's learning a thing or two about packing a decent lunch, after all."

  Jack's face was once more undergoing a transformation of color. This time, however, it was not turning green. It was draining of color, and becoming white, as he trembled with barely restrained anger.

  Neil quickly placed a hand on his friend's elbow, and Sara and Maria quietly shook their heads at Jack from across the table. Though Jack was relatively fearless by any standard, they realized that Jebediah was simply trying to bait him into a confrontation. Nothing good could come from such a conflict.

  Though the Cragglemeister Brothers lived for trouble, Jack had to do well in school. And it was also true that Jebediah and Cletus had a secret weapon when it came to trouble. An ace in the hole, which generally allowed them to avoid any serious repercussions for their bad behavior.

  Jebediah snickered at Jack's reaction. He leaned close, his eyes narrowing and glinting with malice. The straw he was chewing shifted from one side of his mouth to the other. When he spoke, his breath brought with it a foul stink. He clearly was not a big fan of dental hygiene.

  "What's the matter," Jebediah asked, as he leaned into Jack's white face. His eyes glimmered with the promise of trouble coming. He was an expert in such things. "I said? what's the matter? runt?"

  Chapter Thirteen

  They Call Us the Summer Squashes

  In truth, Jack was average in size for his age, and was by no means a runt. It was just that Jebediah and Cletus were abnormally large for middle graders. They took great pride in pointing out their advantage in size.

  "I dunno, Jeb," Cletus chimed in, edging closer to the table, beside his brother. He chuckled like an oafish fiend. "I don't think his pa packed that pudding cup for him. I think his girlfriend must have given it to him."

  "That right, sweetheart?" Jebediah asked, as he guffawed with glee. "You have to split your lunch with your boyfriend, because his pa's too dumb to pack one for him?"

  Maria shook her head and chuckled at Jebediah's foolish attempts to rattle her. "Say, Jeb, you ready for our game tonight?"

  "Don't try to change the subject, pipsqueak," Jebediah sneered. "I mean to get to the bottom of this. I got to see that Jackie-boy here gets his rations, you understand?"

  "It's okay, Maria," Sara said. "I wouldn't want to talk about the game, either, if I were the Cragglemeisters. It must be awfully hard to know that you don't stand a chance." She paused for a brief moment. "Especially to a team with a girl on the pitcher's mound."

  The pudding cup dropped from Jebediah's hand, and struck the table. His brow furrowed, and his breathing accelerated. He seemed a bit discombobulated, as if he could not believe what had just happened.

  His voice was lowered to a hiss. "What did you say?"

  "I was just pointing out that it must be awfully hard on a big, strong Cragglemeister like yourself to have to walk back to the dugout," Sara said. "After striking out." She paused, and gave him her biggest smile. "To a girl, that is."

  "Have you lost your mind?" Jebediah asked. His eyes looked like they just might pop right out of his skull.

  "Yeah, have you lost your mind?" Cletus parroted, edging closer.

  "Oh, come on, boys. It's not like I haven't already sent you back to the bench plenty of times before. Hey, Maria," Sara said. "How many K's did we rack up against these two the last time we played the Summer Squashes?"

  "Four strikeouts," Maria said. "Two a piece, if my recollection is accurate."

  Jebediah's face was starting to look roughly as red as a bowl of tomato soup. For a moment, he could only stammer and flounder about, and Sara had to helpfully remind him to take deep breaths.

  "Breathe deep now, Jeb," she told him. "Don't get all wound up!"

  Jebediah retrieved the handkerchief from his back pocket, wiping it across his forehead, where beads of sweat had suddenly appeared. Grease stains we
re left behind, as he dabbed at his brow. The Beans looked up from their table, grinning in amusement.

  "I told you!" Jebediah finally said, when he had found his voice. "I had gotten something in my eye, earlier in the day, and I couldn't see straight!"

  "Did you both get something in your eye?" Maria asked with a smirk.

  As his brother resumed stammering, Cletus piped in. "Yeah, that's right! I done got something in my eye, too! We'd been working on the tractor with pa earlier in the day, you see?"

  "This whole story seems kind of unlikely," Neil observed, between bites of peanut butter and jelly.

  "Yeah," Jack said. "Wouldn't your vision have cleared by your second or third at-bat?"

  "Seems pretty logical," Neil agreed, nodding, the peanut butter smacking between his lips.

  As if he had reached a point of critical pressure, Jebediah exploded. He bellowed an inarticulate noise, and the straw flew from his mouth, skittering across the table before finally falling to the floor. He slammed both of his palms down on the table, jostling the lunch items. His sweating face was now the color of a superbly ripened strawberry.

  "You seem kind of rattled, Jebediah," Maria pointed out helpfully, waving her spoon in his direction. "You've got to breathe, boy!"

  Jebediah turned his eyes on Maria, staring daggers at her. Cletus hunkered behind his brother, his arms crossed, glowering like an evil ogre, the straw shifting between his teeth. Maria smiled sweetly in return.

  "Listen," Jebediah hissed. "Do you know why our team is called the Summer Squashes?"

  The Beans exchanged glances with each other, raising their eyebrows.

  "Um? isn't that your team mascot?" Neil asked. He was only pointing out the obvious, he thought.

  Jebediah raised one hand from the table, forming it into a fist. "It's because," he said, "we squash things!"

  His abnormally large hand came down in a great rush, and pounded the table. And it was in the bag of tortilla chips that his fist landed with a fantastic crunch. The very bag of chips that Sara had given to Jack.

  Jack scowled up at the Cragglemeisters. Sara became dangerously quiet, and her hand was slowly curling around the orange that lay beside her lunch box.