The sight of Mr Shue’s angry red head was stuck in Nelson’s mind this afternoon, though. That angry red head’s favourite thing was to give Nelson detention for any reason whatsoever, so Nelson knuckled down and within forty-five minutes had finished his presentation about the importance of telling the truth. (It had been way easier than writing a presentation about the solar system. This surprised Nelson very much.)
A short fifteen minutes of staring into space later, Nelson was free to go. He walked to the bus stop and realised that he’d have to keep walking all the way home. At the exact moment of Nelson’s realisation, the sky opened up and it started to pour with rain.
‘This has been a terrible day,’ Nelson told himself with a sigh.
After all, it was important to tell the truth.
Unfortunately for Nelson, his terrible day was about to turn into an extra-terrible night. Soaked, tired and angry, all Nelson wanted to do was crawl into bed. But as he turned the corner into his street, he saw the worst thing ever parked in his driveway: his grandparents’ car.
Oh no! They were visiting again! Nelson slowly shuffled towards his house, trying to avoid being noticed.
‘Help your grandpa bring the veggies in, Nelson!’ his mother shouted when she spied him. She didn’t even say, ‘How was your day?’ or ‘Why are you late and soaking wet?’ or ‘Did you tell your entire class about an alien race that eats teachers today?’
‘Hope you don’t mind if we stay for dinner,’ said Nelson’s grandpa, as he tossed Nelson an absolutely hideous pumpkin.
Nelson’s heart sank. ‘Of course I don’t mind!’ replied Nelson, ignoring the presentation about telling the truth that he’d written in detention that afternoon. He minded a lot.
He lugged the hideous pumpkin all the way to the kitchen.
‘Nelson, look at you! You’re fading away!’ his grandma exclaimed. She poked him in the stomach. ‘Your dad told us you were all out of pumpkins, but you’re clearly not the one eating them!’
Nelson started to panic. His grandma was on to him! She was always snooping around when they came over.
Just as Nelson was contemplating how his life was over, Nelson’s grandma burst into laughter. False alarm. She was just doing that thing that grandparents do, where they tell you you’re skinny because you don’t eat enough.
‘Could you set the table for dinner, Nelson?’ his father asked, as he huddled over the stove.
Nobody had even noticed that Nelson was soaking wet. Or that he was late. They were all too excited about another batch of his grandparents’ stupid, award-winning, disgusting pumpkins.
Nelson trudged over to the cutlery drawer, grabbed a handful of spoons and began to place them on the dining table. As always, he pulled out a selection of condiments and placed them in the middle of the table, so he’d be able to hide from his dad’s eyes during dinner.
‘Black vinegar?!’ his grandma exclaimed, as Nelson was putting the finishing touches on his elaborate condiment wall. ‘Who in the world eats pumpkin soup with black vinegar?’ She stomped over to the table and looked at the other bottles Nelson had assembled. ‘Fish sauce? Honey? Nelson, why are these on the table?’
Nelson stared up at his grandma, his eyes as wide as the bowls they were about to eat from. This suspicious old lady was definitely on to him.
‘Nelson, do you eat your soup with black vinegar, fish sauce and honey?’
‘Y-yes, Grandma,’ Nelson stammered. A bead of sweat slowly trickled down his cheek. ‘They really bring out the flavour of the pumpkin . . .’
His grandma laughed. ‘This is something I’ve gotta see. I’m sitting next to you tonight so I can keep an eye on you!’
Nelson’s heart started beating a million kilometres an hour. Usually he’d only have to worry about blocking his dad’s vision. His mum and his sisters loved their food too much to ever notice. He was going to have to be extra sneaky tonight.
Nelson stared at the deep orange void in front of him.
As always, Nelson’s mum, dad and sisters scoffed down their meal, not paying attention to anything else at the table. They must have learned those eating habits from Nelson’s grandpa, because that’s exactly what he was doing too.
On any other night, Nelson would have poured the soup into his pockets, excused himself and dumped it under his bed. But tonight he was dining with his hawk-eyed, leering grandma at his side, who was watching his every move. Nelson decided that she was enjoying seeing the hideousness that was him spooning the soup into his mouth. Almost like she knew how much he was suffering.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to add some fish sauce? Or how about a little honey?’ Nelson’s grandma cackled like a wicked witch, licking pumpkin soup from her lips.
Nelson picked up his spoon and slowly dipped it into the lake of pure terror. The pureed pumpkin welled in his spoon until all the silver had disappeared. He closed his eyes and forced his lips open, emptying the spoon’s contents into the small space beneath his tongue. He pulled the spoon out and revealed to his grandma that it was empty with a smirk.
‘You’ve still got a few spoonfuls to go,’ she chuckled.
Looking his fiendish grandma directly in the eyes, Nelson ate another spoonful. His tastebuds were on fire, but he refused to swallow. He continued to shovel the soup into his mouth.
Spoonful after spoonful went from bowl to mouth and soon his bowl was half-empty. With his cheeks about to burst, Nelson lifted his bowl and poured the rest of it in his mouth. Some people say that miracles are impossible, but on this night, a young boy named Nelson Hunter managed to fit an entire bowl of pumpkin soup into his mouth.
Nelson placed his bowl back on the table, stood up and proclaimed, ‘Excuse me, good family, I must relieve myself in the restroom. Please pardon my absence!’ But it sounded more like the dog was gargling under the table. Which would’ve been an alarming sound if Nelson’s family hadn’t been preoccupied with wiping up the final remnants of pumpkin soup from their bowls with bread.
Nelson hurried down the hallway towards his bedroom, where he planned to spit the pumpkin soup that was currently pooled in his mouth under his bed. Running as fast as a kid with a mouth full of soup could run (which isn’t actually that fast – you should totally try it one day), Nelson made it to his bedroom and threw open the door, only to find his grandma blocking his path.
How did she get there before Nelson? Why didn’t Nelson notice her run ahead of him? Can she walk through walls? Was Nelson’s grandma a vampire?
These were all important questions that Nelson would have to address later.
‘How was your dinner, Nelson?’ she barked, prodding him in the guts with a pointy finger. ‘It’s weird that your tummy isn’t full after eating all that soup.’
Nelson stared at her hopelessly, his cheeks puffing out like a frog’s.
‘What’s the matter? Soup’s got your tongue?’
Nelson considered legging it to another room, but he couldn’t move. His grandma prodded him again.
‘Don’t you have an answer for me? Go on, Nelson, spit it out!’ She put her hands up to Nelson’s face. ‘Actually, I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you swallow it?’
Nelson’s grandma pinched his lips with one hand and squeezed his cheeks with the other. The entire bowl of pumpkin soup that Nelson had miraculously stored inside his mouth for almost five minutes had no choice but to slide down his throat and into his stomach.
Nelson’s entire body burned like he’d just ingested hot lava. Why was pumpkin this disgusting?
‘Tastes good, doesn’t it?’ his grandma laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Nelson. You’ll thank me for this in the morning!’
She let go of his lips. Nelson hurried into his room and closed the door behind him before collapsing onto the ground. Everything looked orange.
Nelson closed his eyes as he heard his dad yelling from the kitchen. ‘Dessert’s ready. I made pumpkin pie!’
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
&nbs
p; Nelson awoke with a jolt to find he’d fallen asleep on the floor. He reached up to hit the snooze button on his alarm and instead heard a crunching sound. Confused, Nelson looked at his alarm clock and saw that he’d flattened it. Nelson grabbed onto his cupboard door and pulled himself up, but the door came off its hinges and fell to the ground with a thud.
Weird.
‘Nelson?’ his mum called outside his door. ‘Is everything okay in there?’
‘I’m – I’m fine, Mum,’ he stammered. Even his voice felt stronger than usual.
‘No need to yell, Nelson! Your grandma said you were feeling sick last night? Shame you missed dessert!’
‘I’m fine – just getting ready for school,’ he groaned. The whole room shook with the sound of his voice.
Nelson tried to put his cupboard door back on, but it snapped in half like a dry lasagne sheet. What was going on?
Worried he would break his doorknob next, Nelson called for some help.
‘Can someone please open my door?’ he whispered. ‘I’ve locked myself in!’
‘We don’t even have locks on our doors,’ his sister Emily replied. She opened Nelson’s door. ‘And stop shouting. I’m in the next room.’
‘Uh, thanks,’ Nelson said as quietly as he could.
His sister winced as she looked around his room. ‘What happened in here? And what’s that smell?’
‘It’s nothing,’ Nelson murmured, carefully pushing his sister out of his room. ‘Nothing at all!’
He pulled his door shut with a bang. All of the framed pictures on the wall fell to the floor.
‘Uh . . . I’m gonna be late for school!’ Nelson exclaimed as he ran past his bewildered family. It was only 7.15 am.
Nelson had been sitting at the bus stop by himself for an hour when Olive finally showed up. As soon as she was in earshot, Nelson started nervously yelling at her, letting her know that he’d been there for ages and how dare she keep him waiting!
Olive grinned at her frazzled friend. He looked more shaken than when his parents bought him a new computer and he was so excited to play games on it that he forgot to sleep for an entire long weekend. What ridiculous thing had he done now? She took a deep breath. ‘Good morning, Nelson,’ she began. ‘You’re here early. How was detention?’
‘Detention?’ replied Nelson. ‘Who had detention?’
‘You did,’ she answered, wondering why he was yelling everything he said. ‘Yesterday afternoon. You told Mr Shue there is a race of aliens on one of Neptune’s moons that eat teachers.’
‘Oh yeah,’ said Nelson. ‘The Despinites. I forgot.’
Olive knew something was up. ‘You forgot something that happened yesterday afternoon?’ she said. ‘What happened between then and now?’ Even for Nelson, this was weird.
Nelson grabbed Olive’s arm.
‘Olive,’ he began. You’re not going to believe this, bu–’
Olive winced. ‘Can you stop yelling?’ she interrupted. ‘I’m standing right next to you!’
Nelson looked directly at Olive and whispered, ‘I . . . have . . . superpowers!’
Olive started laughing. First a chuckle of disbelief, then she gripped her sides as she let out a huge belly laugh. Soon she’d dropped to one knee, laughing uncontrollably and pointing at her ridiculous best friend who’d just told her the stupidest thing ever in the loudest voice she’d ever heard. Almost hyperventilating, Olive sat down on the bus stop bench and continued laughing her head off.
Nelson sighed. He bent down and effortlessly lifted the bench with Olive still on it.
Olive stopped laughing.
She sat silently on the bench for a few moments. ‘Nelson, I think you better put me down now.’
‘Why? Are you afraid of heights?’
‘No, the bus is coming.’
Olive spent the entire bus ride to school telling Nelson to keep his voice down. He had so many questions about his new superpowers – and so did she – but Olive had read enough comic books to know that maintaining a secret identity was almost as important as the superpowers themselves. Nelson wasn’t even able to whisper quietly about what had happened to him that morning, so getting him to shut up was her priority as they made their way to school.
Olive pulled an exercise book from her bag, ripped out the middle six pages and began sharpening a 2B pencil. ‘I’ll talk while you write,’ she said, handing him the pencil and paper.
Nelson nodded, then furiously scrawled on the piece of paper, using his knee as a desk.
Olive read it and grinned. Whatever had given Nelson superhuman strength definitely had not improved his spelling.
‘Your grandma isn’t a witch, Nelson,’ she said.
Nelson kept writing.
Olive stopped laughing. She’d known Nelson since kindergarten and had never seen him eat a single vegetable. In fact, she had eaten all of his vegetables!
‘Nelson,’ she said in a serious voice, ‘does your heart, mind and body feel strengthened?’
Nelson shot her a confused look.
‘Did you even listen to my talk about vegetables yesterday?’ Olive said.
Nelson shook his head sheepishly.
‘Classic Nelson. Look, I think we can rule out being cursed by your grandma as the source of your powers. For one, grandmas aren’t evil. Two, what kind of a curse is it to give someone super strength? That’s the opposite of a curse, if anything.’
Nelson looked at her desperately.
‘If you had listened to my talk yesterday, you would know that pumpkins are excellent for muscle growth, among other things!’
Nelson rolled his eyes. Vegetables were disgusting. How could anything that disgusting do anything good for anyone? He quickly wrote a few more words on his piece of paper.
Olive shrugged. ‘Well, we can get to the bottom of whatever happened to you after school. First, we need to focus on making sure nobody finds out about your secret.’
She grabbed the piece of paper Nelson had been writing on out of his hands, ripped it into small pieces and started eating them. Nelson looked at her like she was crazy.
‘I’m destroying the evidence!’ replied Olive. ‘Also, if eating vegetables for the first time gave YOU powers, maybe eating paper for the first time will give them to me too!’
Olive walked with Nelson all the way from the bus to their classroom, ensuring he didn’t make eye contact with anybody so he didn’t have to talk with his enormous super-powered voice. That would be a dead giveaway that something was up.
Nelson took the seat just behind Olive once they got to class. He stacked all of his books and stationery in a pile so he could hide behind them. As an extra line of defence, Olive planned to be extra bubbly and annoying, asking questions all day so Mr Shue would be too distracted to even notice Nelson was there. It was a perfect plan.
‘Good morning, 3B!’ Mr Shue exclaimed, bounding through the door. ‘Who’s ready to learn?’
He picked up the whiteboard eraser and whistled loudly as he wiped off all the teaching notes from yesterday that Nelson hadn’t paid attention to. Once finished, Mr Shue bounced the eraser off his hand like a volleyball and it landed with a plonk on his desk. As he scanned the classroom, Olive quickly thrust a hand into the air.
‘Yes, Miss Sadana?’ said Mr Shue cheerfully.
‘You seem happy today, sir,’ replied the extra-bubbly Olive.
‘Of course! How could I not be happy knowing that we are going to start today by hearing another incredible talk by the one and only Nelson Hunter?’
Olive gasped.
Nelson tried to sink even lower into his chair. There goes their incredible plan.
‘Well, what are you waiting for, Nelson? Come and tell the whole class about the importance of telling the truth,’ Mr Shue said with a sneer. ‘I trust there will be no nonsense about teacher-eating aliens from Neptune today.’
Nelson didn’t dare say a word. It was just his luck that the one time he’d actually done his homework, he
couldn’t present it without shattering the classroom’s windows with his new super-voice.
‘Unless – don’t tell me – you haven’t done your homework?’
Nelson paused. Getting yelled at by Mr Shue again was slightly scarier than everyone in his class finding out about his weird superpowers. He reached into his bag and pulled out the speech he’d written in detention yesterday, much to the entire classroom’s surprise. He was about to get to his feet when Olive shot up from her seat.
‘Wait!’ she shouted. ‘Nelson’s . . . lost his voice. He’s got a cold! I’ll read his talk out to the class!’
Mr Shue chuckled. ‘Miss Sadana, do I need to send you to detention to write your own take on the importance of telling the truth? Because I’m looking at Mr Hunter and he doesn’t look like someone with a cold. In fact, he looks healthier than I’ve ever seen him.’
Nelson’s cheeks flushed red as the entire class turned to stare at him.
‘Now, Mr Hunter,’ said Mr Shue, ‘stop delaying my class and get on with it.’
Olive sat down, defeated. She mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to Nelson as he took a deep breath and stood up from his chair. It was time to talk about telling the truth louder than anyone else had ever talked about it before.
As carefully as he could, Nelson made his way to the front of the classroom. Mr Shue’s grin got larger and larger with every step Nelson took. When he reached the whiteboard, he turned around and stared at his classmates for what seemed like hours.
‘Whenever you’re ready, Mr Hunter,’ said Mr Shue. ‘This better be good.’
Nelson swallowed the saliva in his mouth. It still tasted like pumpkin. He took one last deep breath and looked at his notes.
Pumpkins and Aliens Page 2