by Raymond Bean
The Web site I was on said that IQ stands for Intelligence Quotient. I could barely understand half of what the article was saying, but I did understand that an IQ test is very complicated. This guy named Alfred Binet started testing kids using some test he created back in 1904, and there’s some crazy method to determine the score.
I couldn’t help but think that if Alfred Binet created the test to determine how smart people are, he must have been the smartest person in the world. I mean, how can one person create a test to determine how smart other people are unless the person creating the test is smarter than everyone else? I also wondered, what if Alfred Binet wasn’t really all that smart after all, but everyone just thought he was smart because he created a test on smarts? I was getting myself even more confused. And while I kind of understood what the articles were saying, I couldn’t have explained it to someone else.
Mr. Cherub always tells us that if we can explain something to someone else and help them understand it, then that means we truly understand it. I definitely could not explain an IQ test to someone else. And if I couldn’t even explain how the test worked, how in the world could I expect to do well on it?
CHAPTER 17
Breakdown
Dad walked into my room later that night while I was lying on the bed, still in shock from the assembly.
“Hey, buddy, I just got off the phone with Mr. Cherub. Do you want to talk about what happened today?”
I could only shake my head back and forth. You know when you are so close to crying, and you are doing everything you can think of to keep from crying, but you know it’s coming? That’s where I was at that moment. I took a deep breath in, and then breathed out hard through my nose.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” he continued. “But from what Mr. Cherub said, it sounds like things got really crazy today at school. I know you and Anthony joke around a lot and give each other a hard time, but today sounded like it might have been different. Maybe you were right about the singing telegram the other day. I just figured you guys were playing around.”
“I don’t know how I always end up in these situations, Dad,” I said through the tears that were now falling.
“Did you really agree to have an intelligence competition with Anthony?”
Before I could answer, Mom walked in. “I’m sooo sorry. What in the world happened today?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of my bed.
It’s strange when you’re that upset. You just don’t know how your body is going to react. When I started thinking about everything that had taken place over the past few days, I couldn’t help but laugh. Mom and Dad must have thought I was nuts because there I was laughing and crying at the same time.
“Keith, I thought you were upset. You were crying just a few seconds ago,” Dad said.
I didn’t even know why I was laughing. “I’m not sure; maybe I’ve just been embarrassed so many times that I’m over it already.”
“That doesn’t sound like you,” my mom said. “I think you need to get some sleep.” She kissed me on the forehead and gave me a hug. “I’m upset that Mr. Michaels let it get so out of control today.”
“Mr. Michaels loves it when the kids get excited about something at school. I think he just got caught up in it like I did. I shouldn’t have agreed to the challenge,” I said.
“Yes, you let your emotions get the best of you,” Mom said.
“The whole day feels like a bad dream. I’m being tortured by the mad flatulist.”
“What in the world is a flatulist?” Mom asked.
“Oh, that’s a person who can pass gas whenever they want,” Dad said without missing a beat.
“How in the world do you know that?” Mom asked.
“Something I read, I guess. I think I came across it when I was researching the Amplifier.” My mom groaned. The Amplifier was something Dad invented when he was working in the lab with me. It does exactly what its name suggests: it amplifies the sound of your gas. Dad loves it. Mom does not.
Dad wanted to have them made and sold in stores everywhere, but Mom convinced him that being famous for inventing Sweet Farts was embarrassing enough. He agreed, but kept one for himself. He didn’t use it very often, but when he did, it was louder than a siren. One time I heard him rip one when I was outside playing basketball. He was in the house at the time and all the windows were closed!
He walked toward the door and let one go. It echoed for what seemed like eternity and then stopped in a loud squeak, like a bus with old brakes coming to a slow stop. “Hey, maybe I’m a flatulist, too!”
CHAPTER 18
They Fart All the Time
The next day at the lab I was in the kitchen getting a snack when I noticed a bus in the parking lot. There were no people in the lab who would have come on a bus, so I decided to walk out to Emma’s petting zoo and see if they might be there.
Emma was there with Grandma, several scientists from the lab, and about twenty very old people. Some were in wheelchairs, some were walking with canes, and some were sitting on chairs.
Grandma was wearing a white lab coat and looked like she might know what was happening. “Hey, Grandma, what’s going on here? Why are all these…ummm…people here?”
“Why are all these ummm people here? It’s okay to say old people, Keith. They are old. It’s part of life.”
“What are they doing here?” I asked.
“Why don’t you ask your sister?”
Emma came running up. She was holding a baby chick. “Hi, Keith, want to play with the bunnies yet? They are over there by Mrs. Smeltz, the lady in the wheelchair.”
“No thanks, Emma. But who are all these people?”
“They’re from the place that I went to on my field trip.”
“Emma went to the retirement home the other day with her class,” Grandma said.
“Okay, but why are they here?” I asked.
“Because they’re my friends. When I went to visit them, it was so boring. I invited them to come to play with the bunnies, and they said YES!” Emma said. “Can I hire them, too?”
“You want to hire all these old people?”
“Yep, I want to hire all of them, and Jonathan and Ruby.” She pointed to her friends as if I hadn’t met them before. Jonathan was throwing a ball with Goofy, and Ruby was sitting next to an old lady on a bench. They each had a bunny on their laps, and they were laughing about something. “These people are really nice, Keith, and they have lots of free time. They said they can come here every day.”
“I’m sorry, Emm, we can’t hire these people to work at Sweet Farts. I’m still trying to manage the people I have already.”
“You should really think about it. They’re perfect for your company.” She smiled and whispered, “They fart all the time.”
CHAPTER 19
Back to the Lab Already!
I heard Anthony cannon-balling in his pool as I walked into my lab. I thought about going over and trying to talk some sense into him, but decided my time was better spent working. The AWSC was only a few weeks away. Scott was working on his Virtual Reality Housing project, Anthony was working on destroying my company, Emma was playing out back with animals and old people, and I was without an idea…again!
“How’s it coming, Keith?” Mr. Stuart asked, pulling up a chair next to me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get you those scents yet. I’ve just had a lot on my mind, and I want to make sure that the new scents are original and interesting.”
“It’s okay, Keith. I just don’t want it to creep up on you. The summer is coming faster than you think. More importantly, those Liver Cane samples we worked on the other day are not too bad. Have you tried them yet?”
“I haven’t,” I said. “You would think I’d be excited that we’re getting close, but I think I’m tired of working on something that I can’t seem to solve. It feels like we’ll never get them right.”
“Keith, you were spoiled a bit when we helped you invent Sweet Farts.
That was an amazingly fast amount of time to invent something so useful. Science is not about speed; it is about persistence and time.”
“What’s persistence?” I asked.
“Persistence is continuing to work on something even when you might not want to. It’s a fancy word for not giving up. Without persistence, you can’t be a scientist. Be patient. We’ll get it sooner or later.”
“I kind of need sooner. The AWSC is in a few weeks, and I’m not sure what I’m going to present.”
“You’ll present what you have. If you don’t reach your goal, you’ll keep working until you do. That’s what science is all about. Mr. Gonzalez doesn’t expect you to win every time, Keith. He does expect you to try your best every time, though. I think you can give him that.”
Mr. Stuart was making a lot of sense. Even though I didn’t have the Liver Canes perfected, I had an idea that I believed in. Someday, the world would enjoy candy that had all the nutrients of healthy food.
CHAPTER 20
The Clock Is Ticking
The next day Mr. Gonzalez called a meeting. Anthony, Scott, Emma, Grandma, and I sat around the big baseball table. It was really quiet. Anthony and I hadn’t seen much of each other since the “guest visitor” event at school. To my surprise, Mr. Gonzalez had also invited Mr. Michaels and Mr. Cherub to the meeting.
Mr. Gonzalez stood and pushed his chair in. “Hello, everyone. I called you all here to talk about the state of your company. Keith, you came up with the idea for Sweet Farts, and it has been a great success. People around the world no longer have to smell the terrible scent of human gas because of your idea. Anthony, you had an amazing discovery in number patterns last year. You applied that work to the lottery and proved that it can be predicted. Your work has helped scientists understand random numbers in a way they never could before. You should both be very proud of your accomplishments; however, I can’t say I’m happy with the way things have been going lately.”
I took a deep breath.
“Mr. Gonzalez, if I may,” Anthony said, starting to stand.
“Anthony, please stay seated. I don’t want to hear again about how you think you should run the company. I’ve had enough of your bickering and negative attitudes toward each other.”
“I told you how nasty Anthony can be,” I said, wondering if he was finally about to fire him.
“I don’t want to hear any complaining from you either, Keith.” I had never heard Mr. Gonzalez like this before. He was usually so laid back and relaxed.
“Mr. Michaels called me the other day to tell me about the nonsense that went on at your school assembly. I’m very frustrated that neither of you decided to tell me the stakes of this IQ challenge. Furthermore, I find it fascinating that you guys have been given all this opportunity, and the one thing that you have chosen to focus on is being in charge! This lab is not about power. This lab is about science.” He paced around the table.
“Anthony, what did I tell you when you came to me and asked if I would allow an IQ challenge?
I had never seen Anthony so quiet. He looked like a dog that just peed on the new carpet.
Mr. Gonzalez continued, “I told you that what we do here isn’t about your IQ. It is about creativity and trying to make the world a better place. The results of a test can’t determine who is smarter. People are smart in many, many different ways. Doing well on a test is one kind of intelligence, but there are countless other kinds. And to even suggest using an intelligence test to determine who should run a company only reminds me of how young you two really are.”
He turned to me and added, “Keith, when you were in here complaining to me about Anthony and the way he treats you, I told you that you needed to stand up for yourself. That assembly would have been the perfect time to do that. Instead, you got sucked right in.”
My face got all hot, and I couldn’t meet his eyes. I knew Mr. Gonzalez was right. I should have stood up for myself.
“Well, gentlemen, you know the saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.’ Since you two geniuses decided it would be a good idea to have a competition to see who should be running Sweet Farts, that is exactly what you are going to get.”
“You’re going to let us have the IQ challenge?” Anthony asked, perking up.
“No. But I do think a little healthy competition might be just what you kids need. Mr. Michaels, will you please explain?”
Mr. Michaels stood, cleared his throat, and straightened his tie. “Okay, so things got a little out of control the other day. Obviously, I thought you boys had cleared all this with Mr. Gonzalez before announcing it to the entire school. Regardless, everyone feels that you gentlemen have had your priorities in the wrong place lately. So, in an attempt to get you two back on track, we have decided that whoever’s work is chosen for presentation at the AWSC will also become the new head of Sweet Farts, Inc.”
“Can I be part of this, too?” Scott asked.
“Yes, you are part of this company,” Mr. Gonzalez answered.
“That’s not fair,” Anthony blurted out. I was thinking the same thing, but I was glad I wasn’t the one that said it.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because the challenge is supposed to be between me and Keith, not Scott, and certainly not Emma!”
“I don’t even want to be in your silly competition, Anthony,” Emma shot back. “All you care about is being the best.”
“Okay, so you’re not in the challenge, and neither is Scott,” Anthony declared.
“Excuse me, Anthony,” Mr. Gonzalez replied. “You are getting a little ahead of yourself. You and Keith wanted a competition that would decide who should be running this company, and that includes Scott and Emma. I want to give you kids as much control as you can handle, but I cannot, and will not, allow you to embarrass me and my scientists with your childish games. So, it is decided, you will all be judged on the scientific work you complete between now and the AWSC, and the winner takes it all.”
CHAPTER 21
Poop Field
Later that day, I headed to the batting cages. I took a few halfhearted swings. I couldn’t believe I might lose control of the company. It was hard to imagine Anthony running things. As deep as I was in my thoughts, I couldn’t help but notice there was a weird smell in the air. I kept getting a whiff of it every time the breeze picked up. It was definitely poop.
I peeked over the fence between the batting cages and Emma’s petting zoo. There was another bus parked in the distance and a bunch of kids hanging out with Emma again. I hopped the fence in one jump. I love how I can easily jump over a fence. I always worry that I’m going to fall or catch myself on the fence, but it never happens.
Walking up, I noticed each of the kids was holding or playing with one of Emma’s animals. There were bunnies, goats, chicks, kittens, puppies—it was crazy. Goofy ran up and jumped on me. It seemed every time I visited Emma’s barn more animals were running around. But there were a lot of scientists out there, too.
“Hi, Keith, ready to play with bunnies yet?” Emma asked.
“No. I came over because I can smell the poop from the other side of the fence. You have to clean up after them better,” I said, trying to keep Goofy from jumping up on me.
Mr. Gonzalez startled me by putting his hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t seen him standing there.
“Keith, Emma is taking care of her animals just fine,” he said.
“But they stink, and I keep finding some kind of poop on my field.”
“That’s probably the goats,” Emma said. “They like to graze. The grass on your field is their favorite. It’s different than the grass I have over here.” She turned and walked away.
Mr. Gonzalez just smiled.
“Why are you smiling?” I asked.
“I just find it wonderful that your sister knows so much about her animals. Don’t you?”
A little boy in an arm cast was sitting on the grass by himself. Emma walked up to him and grabbed hi
s good hand. “Come on, Robbie, I got a baby lamb this morning. He is sooo cuddly.” The two of them walked over to the barn that had been built to help house all of Emma’s animals.
Mr. Gonzalez started toward Grandma, and I chased after him. “Mr. Gonzalez, do you really think it’s a good idea for Emma to have all these animals out here? I mean, it looks like your scientists are turning into farmers to keep up with it all. She’s got so many animals—chicks, goats, kittens, puppies, and…a lamb?”
“Don’t forget bunnies, ferrets, gerbils, and a miniature pony,” Grandma added. She checked something off on the clipboard in her hand.
“Really? Isn’t that a little crazy?” I asked. She handed the clipboard to Mr. Gonzalez, who checked something off and handed it back to her.
“Keith, what have you been working on in the lab lately?” Mr. Gonzalez asked.
“I’m pretty close to perfecting Liver Canes. I made some the other day that were really close. Mr. Stuart is helping me, and I’m pretty on top of it,” I replied, stretching the truth a bit.
“Well, Emma is just getting started. Just like you, she’ll be given time to set her space up as she sees fit.”
“Yeah, but all the animals? And the poop? It doesn’t seem very clean. Also, she just seems to be having play dates. Did you know she had a bunch of old people here the other day?”
“Of course I do, Keith. They are coming back tomorrow, I believe,” Mr. Gonzalez said.
“They’re coming in the morning, and there’s another group from a different retirement center coming in the afternoon,” Grandma said, flipping the page on her clipboard.
