by Lorri Horn
“I’ve done that!” wailed Colin.
“No, we have to do it ‘systematically, not’—haha! It’s like they’re watching you, Colin—‘throwing items around and digging through things in a panic.’” Seraphina and Dewey laughed.
“Not funny,” growled Colin.
“It says to approach each room like a crime scene. We work in each room you’ve been in, cover each area of space, and work in concentric circles. Oh, and it says to do it in levels.” Seraphina clapped her hands together. “This is going to be fun!” she said. “Should we split up areas or share the space in a room and each cover one area within it?”
“I don’t know,” sulked Colin. He took a nosedive into his bed pillows like his drone crash landing.
“Let’s do it together,” encouraged Dewey. “We’ll start in here, cover the kitchen, and then the stairway. Any other rooms you were in? Think hard, Colin.”
“No, I think that’s it,” he lifted his face from the pillows long enough to reply. “But what are we telling my dad if he sees us?”
“Science project. It’s my standard reply. Always works. They always want to know more about it. Just look like you’re concentrating really hard adding numbers up, and they’ll leave you alone.”
“Okay. Let’s start in here then,” said Seraphina dragging Colin back up.
They covered every inch of Colin’s room, the stairs, and the kitchen. Colin’s dad did come in and say hello, but he never questioned them. He did, however, wonder if they wanted some dinner. Dewey and Seraphina both called home to ask if they could do a project at Colin’s and eat pizza there, which thankfully got the go-ahead. They would have to leave their bikes and get a ride home though, since it would get dark.
After over an hour of solid searching, and a pizza break where Colin faked taking out his retainer so his dad wouldn’t notice, they headed back up to Colin’s room defeated.
“I really think we need to work on the t-issue and the garden presentation some more. You’re just going to have to tell your dad or hope it shows up,” said Dewey.
Dewey sat down at the computer and began to go back to the research on snack food and the vending machines.
“No. Nuh uh. Nope.” Colin folded his arms over his chest and stood staring at the wall.
“Move out of my way,” said Seraphina to Dewey, and she switched Dewey’s page and resumed reading from the WikiHow list.
“‘Step 3: Sit down—’”
At this, Dewey stood up and put both hands on Colin’s shoulders and pressed him down on the bed.
“‘—and think about what you were doing the last time you remember having it.’”
“Okay. Let’s see . . .”
“No, wait,” interrupted Seraphina, putting up her pointer finger. “There’s more. Listen to what it says first. For step 4, they want us to recreate the whole scene. What you were feeling, doing, the flavors of the chips, and what you did next. We are supposed to recreate the whole thing.”
“I can’t. I’m too stressed,” he cried, and he ran his fingers through his hair again, dragging the life out of any hopeful curls.
“Okay, let me just see what else is left do, and then we’ll recreate the scene. Hmm. Oh, look! You already did step 5! Good job! ‘Get Help. If all else fails, ask someone to help you search. Other people won’t feel the same anxiety you might be feeling, so they can search with a clear head,’” read Seraphina.
“No. Not true,” interjected Dewey. “I’m anxious. No clear head. I’m getting stressed. Str-essed!”
“Okay,” began Seraphina, ignoring Dewey. “You were on the phone with us, and you got hungry. You wanted chips, put the phone down, and went to get them. Do you think you had your retainer then? How were you feeling?”
“Hungry,” answered Colin.
“And where did you go? What did you do? What kind of chips were they? Tell us more.”
“Yeah, Colin, tell us more,” poked Dewey, trying to join in and relax but his words came out a bit more sarcastic than he’d intended.
“Not helpful,” replied Seraphina.
“I was researching the history of toilet paper. I called you guys. You guys started talking about potato chips. That made me in the mood for some. I went to the kitchen, hoping we had some. We had a bag of Takis Fuegos. I grabbed the bag and ate them.”
“Not so fast,” replied Dewey, trying to be more helpful. “Where did you open them? You ate them with us on the phone to start? Or downstairs?”
“I tried to open them in the kitchen, but I couldn’t get the bag open until halfway up the stairs. I opened the bag with my teeth, so I pu—”
Colin jumped up, reached into his pocket, and took out his retainer.
“Oh.”
He plopped back down on his bed with a big sigh, and slipped his retainer back in his mouth.
Seraphina and Dewey each plopped down on the bed.
“‘Step 6: Order a retainer container.’”
A Different Approach (Duh)
They spent the rest of the evening working on the presentations for the morning meeting at school.
Colin redeemed himself by finding a “Smart Snacks Product Calculator,” which quickly told them if the snacks met the criteria or not, simply by entering the item, which saved a lot of time. He worked on his laptop on his bed, while Dewey and Seraphina worked at his desk.
“Throw in some whole-grain Sun Chips, and I think we’ve rebuilt the vending machine with what even our own Department of Agriculture would call—Dewey. No, wait. No, no, Dewey. I think we read this wrong,” Seraphina’s eyes darted across the screen.
“What do you mean?” Dewey felt his face get hot with panic again. He thought they had almost finished. They still needed to go home and organize their findings into a presentation. His whole body ached with exhaustion.
“The requirements say ‘also.’ See? ‘Foods must also meet several nutritional requirements.’”
“What else do they want?”
“Um, they want the first ingredient to be a fruit, vegetable, dairy, or protein.”
“Ugh, Pop-Tarts won’t work. But the potato chips still do! Right? Potatoes are a vegetable, right? Right? RIGHT?!”
“Yes, I think so,” Seraphina nodded and started to look it up.
“Here, let me sit down.”
“Wait. Let me just see first. Okay, yes. They are botanically considered vegetables.”
“Good! Okay, so move over,” he said sliding his bottom into her seat. “Let’s see. Put it in the calculator. It’s looking good. Sugar is less than 1%. Fat is low, I think? 10 grams which is just 16%. They have 10% potassium. That’s got to be a good thing.”
“Do they work?” she asked, holding her breath.
“Hang on . . . No! The calories from fat exceeds 35%! Oh, this is terrible.” Dewey slumped down in Colin’s desk chair.
“I don’t think apples and green bean casserole in the vending machines are going to be all that popular,” she rolled her eyes.
“I’m good with apples. I like the apples. Save the apples!”
“Dewey, you’re getting preposterous.”
“I’m getting overtired,” he moaned.
“Move.” With her bottom, Seraphina shoved Dewey out of the seat again so she could sit at the computer. She sat up tall. “Okay, so the snacks in the vending machine are clearly not going to cut the mustard,” she said.
“Ha! Mustard! Mustard is not a food group,” Dewey bounced back.
“Colin? How you doing?”
“I can’t believe it, but toilet paper waste is a HUGE problem. We use like fifty-seven sheets a day which they say adds up to about fifty pounds a year. I can see why they’re trying to get us to stop using so much.”
“So you want to give up the t-issue?” asked Dewey.
“No, I can’t d
o my business at school with one little sheet at a time. I just sit there forever pulling off sheets, anyway. I’m not saving paper, I’m wasting time.”
“We need to figure out how to get that message across,” said Dewey.
“Right,” Seraphina nodded. “I think that’s the right thinking.”
“Why does my business have to be everyone’s?” Colin objected.
“You don’t have to share the primary source details! We just have to get them to understand that their attempt to save paper probably isn’t working the way they planned.”
“What do you think the expression ‘doesn’t cut the mustard’ means?” asked Dewey.
“Huh?” asked Colin.
“I know it means that something isn’t good enough, but why do they say ‘cut the mustard’? How can you cut mustard?”
“Why are we talking about this?” inquired Colin.
“I better ask my mom if I can stay here and work more,” Seraphina suddenly remembered.
“Ugh. Me too,” Dewey checked the time on his phone.
They still had a lot of work to do. Seraphina’s mom agreed to pick her up at 8:30 and give Dewey a ride home. They grabbed slices of cold pizza and kept working.
