by A. J. Low
Not important? Unlikely!
Wendy and Jimmy crowded around me to look at the piece of paper. Watson stood in front of one of the students’ work stations and appeared to be in conversation with an electric mixer.
“Wow, this person’s handwriting is even worse than yours, Jimmy,” Wendy said.
“My handwriting isn’t that bad!” Jimmy said, slightly offended.
“It appears to be a recipe,” I said, squinting.
“It’s for bakwan kepeting,” Wendy said. “I recognize some of the ingredients.”
“You can cook?” Jimmy asked.
“Mom has taught me a few things here and there,” Wendy said, with a self-satisfied look.
“I bet you even I wouldn’t eat your cooking,” I said.
Wendy slapped my head from behind.
“Ouch! Watson, ATTACK!” I commanded, pointing at my big sister.
“You-have-not-installed-any-attack-programs-in-me,” Watson said. I made a note to change that as soon as I got back home.
Auntie Kim Lian and Jane were talking about someone who had left the class, so I walked over to where Watson was.
“Did the electric mixer tell you anything important, Watson?” I asked.
“Nothing-important. Her-head-was-spinning,” Watson replied.
I wondered if I could install a better humor program in Watson as well. But back to the case at hand!
It was curious. If Auntie Kim Lian didn’t leave it at Katong Antique House, or at her cooking class, there had to be somewhere else she went. And then something clicked in my head.
“Jimmy, did you check out that copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?” I asked, remembering I had seen Jimmy holding a library copy of the book at Chin Mee Chin.
“No, Mama checked it out for me!” Jimmy replied cheerfully.
“How long ago?” I asked.
“Two weeks ago!” Jimmy said.
I knew it! Auntie Kim Lian and Jane were still talking but I was anxious to solve the case!
“It’s a shame,” Auntie Kim Lian said to Jane. “She wasn’t very good, but it seemed like she really wanted to learn.”
“Sorry to interrupt you, Auntie, but I have another question,” I said.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Jane replied. “I should get going anyway. I’ll see you in class tomorrow!” Jane left and Auntie Kim Lian turned to me after she waved good-bye.
“You went to the library after your class that Sunday, didn’t you?” I asked.
“That’s . . . right! Why, Samuel, how did you know that?” Auntie Kim Lian asked, amazed.
I was right!
“I went to the cookbook section,” Auntie Kim Lian continued. “I wanted to see if there were any new Peranakan cookbooks that I could borrow and use in my class.”
Auntie Kim Lian had already said that she didn’t use her family recipes for her class, except for that one time with the kueh lapis. Therefore, she had to have gotten the recipes from somewhere.
“I think we should go to the library,” I said.
“I want to go to the library, too! I’ve finished my book! Why do you have to go? Do you want to borrow a book? Do we have homework?” Jimmy asked. He had been making a paper airplane from the sheet of paper with scribbles on it. “What’s the homework on? I don’t like maths but English is pretty fun.”
I was stunned.
“How could you not love maths, Jimmy?” I asked incredulously. “It’s the language of beauty! Take pi, for instance. At first glance, it seems a ridiculous, awkward number that goes on forever and ever! But it’s that infinity that makes it so fantastic! It helps us perfectly describe a circle in all its various forms, from as small as a coin to as big as the universe!”
Complete silence greeted my excitement.
“There-is-a-67-percent-chance-that-eating-homework-will-make-you-fart,” Watson said finally. He was inspecting two spatulas. “The-percentage-increases-if-your-homework-contains-pie.”
“Not that kind of pie! Arrgh. Never mind, can we please just go to the library?” I said, exasperated.
“Only if Watson can give us more statistics about your farting,” Wendy snickered. “They’re definitely more fun than your statistics on maths.”
“Enough about farting,” I said. “You’re all so childish.”
All the humans laughed, including Auntie Kim Lian. Not being able to find Auntie’s recipe book was really getting to me! In fact, all unsolved mysteries really get to me!
“Go check the library for me,” Auntie Kim Lian said. “I’ll tidy up a bit here and meet you there later.”
“To the library!” I shouted.
“You guys *wheeze* go ahead. *cough* I’ll *grunt* catch up,” I said.
Wendy had insisted that we take the stairs even though it meant a three-story climb to the cookbook section of the library.
“The exercise will be good for you, Cher Lock!” she said, smirking at me.
“It’s *wheeze* SHER *cough* LOCK! *grunt*,” I said, panting. When we reached the top of the staircase, I was so tired, I was ready to fall down.
“Comics!” Jimmy said.
Co-*wheeze*-mics! But first, air!
“Ooh! The art section is up here, too!” Wendy said.
Once I had caught my breath, I quickly walked over to the cookbook section.
“There-are-no-Peranakan-cookbooks-here,” Watson said.
“That’s weird,” I said. “Watson, quickly find out what happened to all the Peranakan cookbooks.”
“I-always-obey,” Watson said, moving extremely slowly toward the computer. He even typed slowly.
“You could have done that yourself, you know. Faster, too,” Wendy said.
“Yeah, I forgot Watson couldn’t access the Wi-Fi,” I said. “I need to fix that.” And have a word with Watson about what quickly means.
Watson finally came back from the library computer. “All-the-Peranakan-cookbooks-have-been-checked-out,” he said.
“All of them?” I asked. “Someone really wants to learn how to cook Peranakan food. Maybe Auntie Kim Lian accidentally left her recipe book here, and the person who checked out all the books took hers, too.”
“It’s possible, but how would we know for sure?” Wendy said.
“Let’s ask a librarian!” Jimmy said. “This is an emergency!”
We ran back downstairs and noticed there was nobody at the help desk.
“Okay, you guys keep watch,” I said. “I’ll go see who checked out all these cookbooks.”
“Won’t you get in trouble, Sherlock?” Jimmy asked.
“Not if you guys keep watch I won’t,” I said.
I suspected that librarians were not allowed to tell us who checked out books, but I was sure I could figure it out myself. I sat down at one of the terminals and typed in the title of a Peranakan cookbook: Irene’s Peranakan Recipes. As I typed in other Peranakan cookbook titles, I was surprised.
“Curious,” I muttered to myself. Suddenly, Jimmy sounded the alarm!
“Alert! Alert! Library auntie!” Jimmy whispered frantically.
I snuck a peek over the counter and saw that a librarian was coming. I had no time to run back outside without being seen, so I quickly hid under the desk.
“Can I help you?” the librarian asked Jimmy, Wendy, and Watson, who seemed to be standing in a perfectly straight row, blocking her computer terminal from her view.
“Has anybody returned a cookbook, or found one in the library, in the past two weeks? We’re looking for a book that doesn’t belong to the library,” Wendy asked her.
“Not that I know of,” she said. “Did you lose your own personal book?”
“No, my Mama did,” Jimmy said. “It’s her special air-broom!”
“Heirloom,” W
atson corrected.
“Oh dear. Let me take a look for you in the lost and found, just in case,” the librarian said.
“Thank you,” Wendy said.
Good thinking, Wendy! The librarian headed toward the back office, and I quickly darted back out.
“Whew!” Jimmy said. “That was close!”
“What did you find out?” Wendy asked.
“Something very strange! The cookbooks have all been checked out by the same person! I saw the person’s library card number—it was the same card number each time. But I wasn’t able to see the person’s name,” I said.
Just then, Auntie Kim Lian appeared, while the librarian returned from the back office.
“I’m sorry,” the librarian said. “All I found were jackets and sweaters. And one strangely colored sock. But no books. Good luck finding your book!”
Auntie Kim Lian came to meet us. “Did you find anything upstairs?” she asked.
“No, nothing,” Wendy said.
“But we found out that all the Peranakan cookbooks have been checked out by the same person, Auntie,” I said.
“And how do you know that?” she asked.
“That’s not important,” I said quickly. “What is important is that I think whoever checked out all those books may also have taken your book, not realizing it wasn’t a library book.”
“That can’t be right,” Auntie Kim Lian said. “When I was here two weeks ago, all the Peranakan cookbooks had already been checked out.”
That was another theory out the window! Where was this book? Had I missed something important?
“Was there anywhere else you went that night, Auntie?” I asked, eager for another avenue of investigation.
“No. After the library, I went straight home,” Auntie Kim Lian said.
Nothing but dead ends so far. Surely this mystery could not vex someone with my detective abilities!
“Maybe it’s been in your house this whole time?” I said hopefully.
“Gina and I have looked all over the kitchen, but perhaps we should check the rest of the house,” Auntie Kim Lian said. “You kids can look when we get home. Maybe Gina and I missed something in the kitchen, too.”
When we got back into the car, Jimmy whispered, “She doesn’t show it, but I know Mama is really sad about losing this book. We have to find it, Sherlock!”
“We will,” I said. This was a mystery I was determined to solve.
“Watson, if you were a cookbook, where would you hide?” I asked.
After a quick lunch, Auntie Kim Lian went to put little Amy down for her nap. The rest of us made plans to search the house for the missing family heirloom.
“I-am-not-a-cookbook,” Watson replied.
“Yes, but if you were—” I continued.
“BENJAMIN IS MISSING! BENJAMIN IS MISSING!” Jimmy yelled, bursting into the living room.
“Oh no! Your cute little hamster is missing?” Wendy asked.
“I went to take him out so that you could play with him but . . . he’s escaped!” Jimmy cried, clutching his head and jumping up and down in agitation.
“Don’t worry, Jimmy. Watson and I will find Benjamin,” I said.
“He must be terrified!” Jimmy yelled, frantically tossing cushions about.
At that moment, Auntie Gina came into the living room.
“Why are you messing up the living room, Jimmy? I just tidied it!” Auntie Gina scolded, clucking her tongue.
“Benjamin is missing, Auntie Gina!” Jimmy cried before running off.
“Again?” Auntie Gina said, shaking her head. She moved around the living room, setting the cushions straight.
“Again?” I said.
“Yes, poor Benjamin goes missing about once a week,” Auntie Gina said, smiling slightly.
“What do you do about it?” I asked.
“We leave a trail of hamster food leading back to his cage. He usually follows the trail, then crawls back in to sleep,” Auntie Gina replied.
“Hey! That sounds like how Mom gets Cher Lock to do his chores!” Wendy said, smirking.
I glared at Wendy but I could not deny the truth. I also do not understand why I repeatedly fall for Mom’s devious trick. Surely I am smarter than that!
“Jimmy!” I called out. Jimmy came scampering back into the room.
“Tell me exactly what happened, and when you discovered that Benjamin was missing,” I said.
“Well, I went to his cage and he wasn’t there, so he’s missing! Benjamin is missing! He’s missing, Sherlock!” Jimmy cried.
“Calm down, Jimmy. Let’s organize a search party,” I said. Someone had to be the adult here. “Wendy, look under the cupboards. Watson, look under the couches. Auntie Gina, show me where the kitchen is.”
“I think Watson should search the kitchen,” Wendy said, staring at me hard.
No one ever said my big sister was not smart.
“I-will-try-not-to-step-on-any-escaped-hamsters,” Watson replied.
“Fine,” I said with a huff. “I’ll take the couches.”
We looked high and low, with Jimmy frantically running about telling everyone not to step on Benjamin. He screamed when Watson stepped on a wad of tissue paper that he thought was Benjamin. We also took the chance to look for Auntie Kim Lian’s cookbook.
Wendy found dust balls and I found more wads of tissue paper, but no hamster. Watson even used his powers, secretly of course, to look in the high cupboards in the kitchen, but no Benjamin. Where on earth could that hamster be?
“Jimmy, when did you first discover Benjamin’s cage door was open?” I questioned.
“His what?” Jimmy replied.
“His cage door—when did you realize it was open? Or when was the last time you opened his cage door?” I said.
“His cage door wasn’t open,” Jimmy said.
“What? I thought you said he was missing?” I replied.
“He is! Benjamin is missing! Let’s look in my bedroom!” Jimmy cried, almost running off but I caught his T-shirt.
“Jimmy, if the cage door wasn’t open, how did Benjamin get out?” I asked.
“He closed it behind him!” Jimmy shouted. “Benjamin is a very polite hamster, Sherlock. He never bites me when I feed him!”
I stared at Jimmy in disbelief.
“To the hamster cage!” I yelled.
We all trooped to the hamster cage in the backyard. I stooped down and looked in the cage. It was filled with hamster bedding, and mounds and mounds of shredded tissue everywhere. But Jimmy was right. There was no sight of Benjamin.
“See! He’s not in his cage!” Jimmy said.
“Wait a minute. Auntie Gina, may I please have some broccoli?” I asked.
“That-will-make-you-fart,” Watson said.
“It’s not for me!” I snapped.
Auntie Gina came back with a piece of broccoli. I broke off a small piece and knelt down next to the hamster cage.
“What are you doing, Sherlock?” Jimmy asked.
”Shush,” I whispered.
I opened the cage door and stuck my hand in, gently waving the piece of broccoli about. Sure enough, the large mound of shredded tissue started to quiver and a small little nose peeked out.
“Benjamin!” Jimmy cried.
The hamster sleepily crawled out from his hiding place to nibble at the broccoli. I dropped the broccoli and carefully shut the door.
“I told you not to put in so much tissue paper, Jimmy,” Auntie Gina said.
I remembered reading about Occam’s razor in one of the comic books Dad got me. It states that the simplest solution is usually the correct one. When Jimmy said that the cage door was not open, I immediately had two theories:
(1)that Benjamin had learned to close the cage
door by himself, as Jimmy said; or,
(2)that he had never left the cage in the first place.
One theory was simpler than the other, though when Auntie Gina mentioned Benjamin’s multiple escapes, I couldn’t just dismiss Benjamin learning how to close doors on his own. He certainly seemed to have had the chance to practice doing that many times before.
“Oh thank you so much, Sherlock! You’ve solved the Case of the Missing Hamster!” Jimmy shouted.
“That-was-not-much-of-a-case,” Watson said.
“Well, we should get back to your grandma’s missing cookbook. Shall we head up to your room, Jimmy?” I said, ignoring my robot. A solved case is a solved case, and all mysteries need solving, regardless of how big or small they are!
“Let’s recap,” I said, pacing around the room. I had seen Dad do this many times when he was thinking. I was not sure why it helped, but if Dad did it, I would do it as well.
“It wasn’t at Katong Antique House,” Wendy said.
“It wasn’t at Marine Parade Community Club,” Jimmy said.
“It-was-not-at-the-library,” Watson said.
“And it’s not in the house,” I said. “We’ve double-checked.”
“And we know it’s not in Benjamin’s cage,” Jimmy said. “Maybe . . . aliens took it?!”
“No, they would have left traces of faster-than-light travel,” I replied. I had read that in a time-travel comic book Dad had borrowed for me from the library.
“Perhaps Benjamin ate it,” Wendy said.
“Benjamin wouldn’t eat Mama’s book!” Jimmy said, offended.
“Watson, please pass me my book,” I asked.
“I-live-to-serve,” Watson said.
Watson opened his secret compartment and took my copy of Logicomix out. Dad knew it would be useful to me because it was about maths and logic. Excellent tools for a detective!
