by David Lubar
“Sounds great.”
20
What’s Bugging Him?
I only got through about half the documents that night before it was time to go home. Some of it was interesting, but a lot of it was boring. I guess that’s how it was in the spy world. But I could tell from Mr. Murphy’s reaction that most of it was important.
There was also a wad of money in the briefcase, for another of RABID’s evil plans. So we’d probably saved a lot more people. I wasn’t keeping score, but it looked like I was definitely helping to make the world a better place.
Now I had just one more small bit of evil to deal with. If I succeeded, I’d be making a lot of kids happier, and safer—which was also a way to make the world a better place.
I met up with Abigail and Mookie right after breakfast on Sunday. Luckily, Mom had taken a day off from work, even though it was Bear Season.
“I need you to do this.” I handed Abigail the money I’d won at the oyster-eating contest. “I can’t take a chance that they’d recognize me.”
“Some spy you are,” she said. “Can’t you come up with a decent disguise?”
Before I could say anything, she laughed and said, “I’m kidding. I’ll be happy to do it. It’s for a good cause. Two good causes, if we’re right. And when have we ever been wrong?”
“You sure you don’t want me to do it?” Mookie asked.
“No way. You’d probably come back with five hundred dollars’ worth of candy.”
“They don’t sell candy in there,” he said.
“You’d still find a way to buy some,” I said.
Mookie shrugged. “You’re right. I have a gift for that. It’s amazing the places you can find candy. Even the pet store has it.”
“I don’t want to hear the rest of this,” Abigail said. She went into Stuffy Wuffy with my prize money.
She was gone for at least twenty minutes. But when she came back, she smiled and said, “We’re all set. They’ll deliver everything right away.”
“Great. I really hope this works.” No matter what, Mom would feel better when she found out. And she’d never know it was because of me. That was good. I’d set my plan in motion. But we still had a lot of work to do.
I had to wait until the next morning to find out if I’d been right. The first part went just the way I’d hoped. About an hour after school started, we were called down for an assembly. This time, Principal Tardis sounded happy.
I smiled at Abigail. She winked and nodded.
After everyone filed into the cafetorium, Mrs. Matheson went to the stage and picked up the microphone. “Eighth-graders,” she said. She clapped her hands like she was giving orders to a show dog. The eighth-graders got up, groaning, and walked toward the stage.
“This is going to be awesome,” I said to Mookie.
“I wish I had a camera,” he said.
After all the eighth-graders had gotten to the stage, Mrs. Matheson said, “We had feared the animal parade wouldn’t happen this year. As you know, the costumes were destroyed. But then something amazing happened.”
I sneaked a peek at Ridley’s face. He didn’t seem to have any clue what was going on.
“We received a donation,” Mrs. Matheson said. “Someone who wishes to remain anonymous gave us costumes. Wonderful costumes. Enough for every child.”
She turned toward the side of the stage and clapped her hands again. The kindergartners streamed out. Dozens of them.
“Boys and girls,” Mrs. Matheson said, “I am thrilled to introduce the March of the Happy Insects.”
The kids, dressed in the outfits I’d bought from Stuffy Wuffy, swarmed onto the stage. With the help of Abigail’s mom, who was good at sewing, we’d stuffed the arms and legs of the pajamas and then cut extra armholes in the sides of each, below the stuffed arms. We also cut new legholes at the bottom. We’d stitched on the wings in back and glued two of the giant gems onto each hood.
The costumes turned each kindergartner into a giant fly. A cute giant fly, but with the six limbs—plus their real legs—wings, and faceted eyes, definitely a fly.
I watched, hoping I was right about Ridley.
“Aggghhhh!”
He let out a scream so loud, you’d think someone was trying to remove his appendix with a Popsicle stick. His face grew pale. He backed away from the bugs, but they closed around him, making buzzing sounds.
“Hey—it looks like even big flies are attracted to garbage,” I said.
Ridley screamed louder and leaped from the stage. He turned and shot across the room, crashing through a door that led to the outside. He kept running until he was nothing but a small dot, and then nothing at all.
It felt good to be right. He’d reacted when Abigail mentioned a bee. And unlike Rodney, who had good reason to fear vomit, Ridley fled from the puke because of the insects. I guess the final clue was in gym class when Mr. Lomux and Mr. Scotus both got sick. I realized that hadn’t bothered Ridley at all. He wasn’t afraid of vomit—he was afraid of insects. Luckily, it looked like he was especially afraid of big insects.
“Think he’ll miss gym?” Mookie asked.
“Most likely,” I said. “I don’t think he’s going to stop running for a while.”
I looked back at the stage. The rest of the eighth-graders seemed to be happy being with the kindergartners. And the little kids were definitely thrilled.
“Nice save,” Abigail said.
“Thanks.”
She laughed. “It gives a whole new meaning to debugging.”
We sat and watched the happy insects as they marched around the room. It was fun.
“Hey,” Abigail said at the end of the assembly, “hold up your hand.”
“Why?”
“I don’t smell anything,” she said.
“I’m not angry right now,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’d started smelling a little bit all the time. But not now.”
I held out my hand.
She sniffed it cautiously. Then she sniffed harder. “Definitely no smell,” she said.
I took a sniff. She was right. “What happened?”
Abigail stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “Got it! Think where you’ve been where you don’t normally go.”
“Oh, a riddle. I love riddles,” Mookie said. “Can you ask it again, but make it rhyme? That would be even more fun.”
“It’s not a riddle,” Abigail said. “I’m just pointing Nathan to the solution.”
I thought back. There was one obvious answer. “The ocean?”
“Yup,” Abigail said. “Salt and bacteria don’t get along. And salt is used to preserve meat. They make bacon by curing it in salt.”
“So I was right!” Mookie said. “I told you salt could cure a zombie.”
“That’s a different type of cure,” Abigail said. “But it still doesn’t make complete sense. There’s also bacteria inside you. Especially in your stomach. You didn’t swallow any water when we were in the ocean, did you?”
“Not a drop.”
“Mookie had you swallow some salt, but it wasn’t enough to do anything. Did you eat anything at all recently?” she asked.
“The oysters,” I said. “But I’d rather not ever think about that again.”
“That can’t be it. The bacteria would feast on them. Anything else?”
“Nope.” I didn’t eat at all these days. “Wait—Mom made me take my asthma medicine.”
“What do you take?” Abigail asked.
I told her.
She nodded. “That’s a new one. I’m pretty sure it has antibacterial side effects. That explains a lot. Did you stop taking it after you became a zombie?”
“Yeah. I didn’t need it. How’d you know I’d stopped?”
“Because that helps explain the timing,” Abigail said. “The medicine stayed in your body for a while after you stopped, because your metabolism is so slow. But it finally ran out—which is why you started to stink. Now w
e know you need to keep taking it.”
“So I’m not cured,” I said. “But at least I don’t stink. Will it last?”
“The effect should last seven or eight days,” Abigail said. “But that’s good enough. Just rub some salt on yourself once a week when you shower. Or put some in a bath. And take your pill. It won’t be a problem. It’s small enough so your body will be able to slowly absorb it.”
“Great. That’ll be easy enough.” I was still dead, but at least I wouldn’t be making a stink about it.
Later
Ridley didn’t make it back to school in time for gym class. We still got clobbered at football, but the eighth-graders weren’t mean about it. Nobody got hurt. They played to win, but they didn’t play for blood. I didn’t have to bring out the glue. It was actually fun playing against them. The one time we scored a touchdown, it felt like a giant victory.
We were able to go back to our own school on Wednesday, so I’m totally safe from Ridley until next year, when I go to the middle school. By then, he would have forgotten about me. I think Ridley has the same kind of memory as Spanky, though I’m pretty sure Spanky is smarter. Even if Ridley doesn’t forget about me, I’m sure Mr. Murphy will have taught me all sorts of spy-style self-defense by then. I need to ask him about that.
Stuffy Wuffy decided to expand its business and sell costumes for little kids. They opened a second shop just for that. They called it Stuffy Wuffy Dressy Uppy. Yeah. Gag me. They put Mom in charge of the whole thing. She was thrilled. She got to design the costumes. But she lets someone else place the orders on the computer. That was a smart move.
The only bad part is that nearly every day is part of Bear Season now. On the bright side, Dad and I have started jogging almost every evening.
The next time I saw Mr. Murphy, he showed me the rest of the papers I’d gotten from RABID. The information was interesting, but the part I liked the most was that he trusted me, and treated me like we were equals.
The salt and medicine are keeping me from stinking. But I know I have to do something more. My body is still rotting. I need to find a cure. I think I need to find it soon.
READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF
ENTER THE ZOMBIE
Nathan Abercrombie,
Accidental Zombie
BOOK FIVE
“This must be serious,” I said as Mookie, Abigail, and I left Belgosi Upper Elementary School.
“Unprecedented,” Abigail said.
“He’s not a president,” Mookie said. “At least, I don’t think he is. And if he was, he probably wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Abigail groaned, but didn’t bother to say anything. I had a feeling I knew what unprecedented meant. This had never happened before, not counting the first time he’d approached me. But it was happening now. The master spy who had recruited me and trained me, the man who did everything in secret, was standing in public, right in front of the school, waiting for me. He wasn’t even wearing any sort of disguise or hiding behind a large plant.
“We need to talk,” Mr. Murphy said when I reached him.
I couldn’t even begin to guess what this was about.
“We’ll catch up with you,” Abigail said. She tugged at Mookie’s arm. “Come on. Let’s leave them alone.”
“Hold on. We all need to talk.” Mr. Murphy tucked his little finger under his thumb, then aimed his other fingers in our direction. “The three of you. Right now. But let’s not stand here where we’ll attract attention.”
He headed down the street. I stared at his back for a moment, then raced to catch up with him.
“Well, that definitely won’t attract any attention,” he said. “Would you like to hop and skip, too? Or is running enough? You could sing at the top of your lungs. That would be a nice touch. Maybe we can find you some sparklers to wave around.”
I tried to think of some smart-alecky reply to throw back at him, but he was right. Spies should never attract attention—unless they’re doing it on purpose to distract people from secret actions being done by other spies. “What’s going on?”
“We have a chance to take out RABID from the very top,” he said. “If we act now, we can cut the head off the snake. That would be a major step toward destroying them.”
He definitely had my attention. I’d love to see RABID wiped out. The name stood for Raise Anarchy by Inciting Disorder. They wanted to control people by making them unhappy with their leaders. They were responsible for plenty of the bad things that happened in the world. They would have done even more bad things if Mr. Murphy and I hadn’t been around to stop some of their plans.
“But you said they’re too spread out to get rid of.” From what I knew, RABID worked in little groups all around the world. Mr. Murphy called the groups cells.
“We think we know how to locate the man at the very top of the organization. If we can capture Baron von Lyssa, the cells won’t survive for long.” Mr. Murphy pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. “Ever heard of this?”
I opened it up and read the first three lines.
MIND AND BODY
Enter a Team in the Ultimate
Athletic and Academic Competition!
Below the headline, there was a drawing of a kid with a big head and bulging muscles. He had a dumbbell in one hand and a book in the other. The flyer looked sort of familiar. “I saw this on the bulletin board last month,” I said. It had quickly gotten covered by posters about the band concert, the bake sale, and all sorts of other stuff. “They put up an announcement every year. Nobody from our school ever enters.”
I noticed Abigail was staring at the flyer. Then her gaze drifted toward the clouds, like she was thinking about something.
“That kid must have to buy his hats somewhere special,” Mookie said. “What’s that have to do with us, anyhow?”
“We think RABID looks for exceptional young people and convinces them to join the organization. Sometimes, they start working on their candidates when they’re years away from becoming active.”
“And kids who enter the contest are more likely to have the sorts of skills that RABID would find useful,” Abigail said. “Especially the winners.”
“I’ve been told you’re quite smart,” Mr. Murphy said. “Apparently, that’s the case. I assume you know what I’m going to ask next.”
“Ooohhh! Let me guess!” Mookie raised his hand, like we were in class, waved it wildly, and then shouted out, “You want us to parachute out of a jet and attack the bad guys. Right?” He clenched his fists above his shoulders, the way people do when they’re hanging under a parachute. Then he tugged down with his left fist and skittered in that direction.
Mr. Murphy made a face like he’d just tried to swallow a large slice of moldy onion. “Well, lad, I wouldn’t mind dropping you out of a jet, preferably over an empty stretch of ocean, but that’s not exactly the current plan. Though I’ll keep it in mind for later, should an opportunity arise.”
“No jet?” Mookie asked.
“No jet,” Mr. Murphy said.
“He wants us to form a team, enter the competition, and do well enough that we’re approached by RABID,” Abigail said. “That’s why he’s talking to all three of us. Each Mind and Body team has three people on it.”
“That was my next guess,” Mookie said. “But I didn’t want to show off too much. Nobody likes a smarty-pants. Or a smarty-skirt.”
“Correct, again.” Mr. Murphy nodded at Abigail, who happened to be wearing a skirt today.
“Okay, so you want us to enter the contest,” I said. “I guess we have a chance to do well. But why didn’t you just send a message to me like you usually do?”
“There wasn’t time. We figured out the connection between RABID and Mind and Body late this morning, right before the sign-up deadline. All three of you need to fill out an entry form immediately.” He handed each of us a sheet of paper and a pen. “Fill these out and I’ll mail them right away. But before you do, I need to make sur
e all of you understand what you’re getting into.”
“A jet?” Mookie asked.
I had a good idea I knew what Mr. Murphy meant. “We’ll be meeting with a very dangerous person. At some point, we might be on our own, out of touch with BUM. If we mess up, there won’t be anyone to come to our rescue.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Murphy said. “Wherever you go to meet him, you’ll be scanned for electronic devices, so we can’t use any sort of tracker or beacon. You’ll be isolated. They’ll take steps to make sure you aren’t being followed. We’ll have no way to communicate. If they suspect you, bad things could happen. There are definite dangers. The choice is yours.”
READER’S GUIDE
ABOUT THIS GUIDE: The information, activities, and discussion questions that follow are intended to enhance your reading of The Big Stink. Please feel free to adapt these materials to suit your needs and interests.
WRITING AND RESEARCH ACTIVITIES
I. Big and Small
A. At the start of the novel, Nathan and his friends find themselves sitting in a classroom meant for much smaller kids. Consider how Nathan, Abigail, and Mookie each react to the situation. Try riding a tricycle, wandering around a toddler playground, squeezing into an outgrown jacket, or exploring another object or place that is not sized for you. Write a poem or song lyrics describing your thoughts and feelings about this experience.
B. Watch a movie about changing size, such as Honey, I Shrunk the Kids; Gulliver’s Travels; The Incredible Shrinking Woman; Big; or Alice in Wonderland. Write a review of the movie, commenting particularly on images and themes of growing larger or smaller. Use a quote from The Big Stink to lend insight to your review.
C. At Borloff Lower, Nathan observes older and younger kids getting along and coming into conflict. In groups, brainstorm ways to create a playground or lunchroom environment where kids of different ages can feel safe and have fun together. Have each group create an illustrated poster, PowerPoint, or other planned presentation for friends and classmates.
