The Green Beans, Volume 1: The Mystery of Hollow Oak

by Gabriel Gadget

  "Oh, boy," Maria said, shaking her head at Jebediah. "You didn't want to do that."

  The brothers guffawed maniacally as they began sauntering away from the table. Jebediah brushed his hands together, and the crumbs of tortilla chips drifted from his knuckles.

  "I got me a premonition about this game," Jebediah said. "It involves you guys losing. Losing bad."

  "Doom," Cletus added ominously. "Doom, I say!"

  "Make sure your pa packs you a snack for after the game," Jebediah snickered. "And a box of tissues, for all the tears you'll be shedding."

  "I have a 'premonition' about you getting hit in the head with an orange," Neil muttered beneath his breath.

  Sara waited until the Cragglemeisters strode some distance off, taking their place in the hot lunch line (which involved pushing several smaller students out of the way). With her fingers curled tightly around the orange, she asked, "What do you guys think?"

  "I say let him have it," Jack replied. There was no hesitation in his answer.

  "All those in favor?" Sara asked.

  The four of them said, "Aye" in unison, signifying their agreement to the plan. It may have been undesirable to risk getting in trouble, but the Cragglemeisters had simply pushed them too far. There was only so much injustice that the Beans could tolerate. It had been decided? the bullies would have to answer for what they had done.

  Chapter Fourteen

  An Untraditional Bath

  Sara pushed her chair back from the table and stood up, orange in hand. She watched in disdain as Jebediah and Cletus jostled their smaller classmates, bullying their way closer to the front of the hot lunch line.

  Since they were not precisely standing still, and they were surrounded by targets that she did not wish to hit, it would be a challenging throw. But Sara was undaunted. An unpeeled orange, after all, was remarkably similar to a baseball in terms of size and weight. And she had thrown an awful lot of baseballs.

  Rearing back with her arm, she prepared to send her fruit projectile flying. Neil, Jack, and Maria sat on the edges of their seats, leaning forward. They held their breath in anticipation.

  Her eyes narrowed in focus and determination, Sara's arm came forward. Like a baseball, the orange was released from her hand, rolling from her fingertips. Its path was as sound and efficient as one of her pitches, cutting through the air like a laser.

  Though the Beans were already holding their breath, they further inhaled as they watched the orange scream across the cafeteria, finding its way between middle graders. It found its target on the side of Jebediah's noggin (which one might have argued was even softer than the orange itself).

  "Gah!" Jebediah cried out, as he staggered to one side, clutching at his temple.

  In a stroke of strange luck, the orange immediately ricocheted from Jebediah? and struck his brother in the center of his forehead.

  "Oof!" sputtered Cletus, stumbling backward.

  From across the cafeteria, pumping her fist in triumph, Sara shouted, "Strike!"

  "Gobstoppers!" Jack cried. He leaped to his feet, exchanging a high-five with Neil, while Maria fell out of her chair with laughter. "That was awesome! I mean, that? was? awesome!"

  Sara, for her part, smiled across the cafeteria at her adversaries. "You shouldn't have touched the chips, Jeb. Big mistake!"

  Disoriented and woozy from the orange assault, the Cragglemeisters stumbled about, seeking balance. As they tried to regain solid footing, they clutched at each other for support. This did not help them, however, but only further undid their balance. For as they grabbed at the shoulders of each other, their masses became entwined, and they spun wildly out of control.

  "You dang boys, you watch out, now!" screeched the lunch lady.

  The Cragglemeisters had shoved and jostled their way to the front of the hot lunch line. So when they had been struck with the orange, they were dangerously close to the vat of corn chowder where the lunch lady was scooping out ladlefuls of the stuff.

  The Beans watched with a combination of wonder, amusement, and horror, as the discombobulated Cragglemeister Brothers stumbled into the enormous vat, knocking it from the table that it rested upon. The lunch lady screeched and guffawed, waving her ladle about in the air, but it was to no avail. There was no stopping the great vat from overturning, and dumping all of its contents as it went.

  Jebediah and Cletus clumsily collided with the vat, and as it was knocked from the table, a wave of corn chowder came pouring out, with a great clanging of metal. Fortunately, it had been removed from the industrial-sized stove of the school cafeteria at the beginning of lunch period, so it was no longer steaming hot, but only lukewarm.

  Nonetheless, it remained true that it was an extremely unpleasant sensation to take a bath in lukewarm, frothy corn chowder, as Jebediah and Cletus soon discovered. As they fell to the floor, the majority of the corn chowder showered over both of them. Drenched in the stuff, they slowly returned to their feet, wobbling from side to side.

  Their overalls and shirts were soaked with corn chowder, and it dripped from their hair, as well as their fingers. Chowder covered their faces, and they blinked slowly, as if trying to make sense of what had happened, making them look like confused and pasty specters.

  The entire cafeteria was focused on this spectacle, and as one, all the many schoolchildren erupted into laughter. As they hooted and hollered, the Cragglemeisters stood there, taking it all in. Their eyes transformed from confused to enraged, and their chowdery hands curled into fists at their sides. They glowered at the Beans, but this just made them laugh all the harder.

  Jebediah took a step forward, but was immediately foiled. His boot slipped in the pool of corn chowder, and he fell down. As he went, he grabbed onto the arm of his brother in a useless attempt to retain his balance, but this only resulted in Cletus joining him on the cafeteria floor.

  "I can't believe this!" Neil squealed with laughter. He was bent over at the waist, trying to catch his breath, he was laughing so hard. "You've really outdone yourself this time, Sara!"

  Between bouts of laughter, the other Beans agreed, but they were soon forced to duck for cover. Coming at them like bullets, torpedo rolls started pelting their bodies? the Cragglemeisters were returning fire.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Trouble Coming

  "Duck and cover!" Jack roared.

  Sara and Maria quickly upended their lunch table, so that it formed a defensive barricade. The four of them took cover behind it, and they could hear the torpedo rolls striking against their barrier, like giant pieces of hail on a rooftop. The bread was cafeteria-grade, and therefore quite stale in nature. It made for a fairly good thing to hurl at one's enemies, as the Cragglemeisters had discovered.

  "We have no ammo!" Sara cried.

  Jebediah and Cletus, on the other hand, had plenty of weapons. They had hunkered down behind the lunch lady's quarters, where there was a near-endless supply of torpedo rolls and other foodstuffs. Now, they were hurling the rolls with expert accuracy and velocity from their makeshift bunker.

  As previously mentioned, the Cragglemeisters were excellent baseball players. Apparently, their skill at throwing baseballs translated well to throwing baked goods. Go figure.

  "I'm gonna take a peek," Jack said. He poked his head over the makeshift barricade, and was immediately pelted with a flying torpedo roll.

  "Oof!" Jack exclaimed, as he returned to cover. Rubbing at his noggin, he turned to his teammates. "Monkeyshines! I was gob-smacked right in the cranium by those louts!"

  "They've got us pinned down pretty good? We need some ammo," Neil said. In desperation, he looked about, searching for suitable foodstuffs to hurl. "Toss me the pudding cup!" he shouted to Maria.

  The chocolate pudding cup had fallen from the table when it had been overturned. The options available to the Beans were precious few. There were some scraps of peanut butter sandwiches and chips, but they would never reach the Cragglemeisters, when thrown. They were too light!
The only viable option that remained was the pudding cup.

  Risking her body to the incoming fire of torpedo rolls, Maria reached out from behind the table and scooped up the pudding cup in one hand. Returning to the safety of the table barricade, she gave it to Neil with an underhand lob. "Catch, Neil!"

  He caught the pudding in one hand, glanced over the top of the barricade, and launched it with a hook-shot. By some miracle, the pudding sailed true.

  It came down atop Jebediah's head. The lid popped open on contact, and the pudding exploded into his hair, running down his face and creating a fantastic swirl effect with the existing corn chowder. This, as one might expect, resulted in a renewed round of laughter from the students that crowded the cafeteria.

  "Boo-yah!" Sara shouted.

  "Boom-shaka-laka!" Maria added.

  Jebediah shuddered with rage. He pointed his index finger at the Beans, and with a howl of indignation, he began stalking toward them. But before he began marching over, he snatched an extra-long loaf of French bread, seizing it like a club, shaking it like a menacing ogre. Cletus grabbed a matching loaf, and fell into step beside his brother.

  "Incoming!" cried Neil, from behind their table defense. "We've got trouble on the way. Prepare for combat!"

  The Beans scrambled about behind their cover, desperately searching for foodstuffs with which to arm themselves. The Cragglemeisters marched closer, fuming, and steaming, and promising doom. They waved their loaves of French bread about, shouting inarticulate words like angered trolls. Their shadows were cast over the table as they came ever closer.

  "This is it!" Sara shouted, rallying her troops.

  Her back was to the overturned table, and she clutched some fruit she had been able to scavenge from the floor. She had an apple in her left hand, a pear in her right.

  But before the conflict could further escalate, there came a sound like thunder in a valley, interrupting this epic food fight. The double doors to the cafeteria had been smashed open, and a towering, terrifying figure had stormed within.

  The raucous, laughing schoolchildren were instantly brought to silence. The Beans dropped the food they were holding. And even the Cragglemeisters, enraged as they were, stopped in their tracks. The crusty loaves of French bread were released from their hands, and they fell harmlessly to the floor. In unison, they gulped.

  "Afternoon, sir," Jebediah said, bowing his pudding-and-chowder-covered head.

  "Oh, no," Cletus whispered. His voice held true misery. "It's pa."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Don't Mess With Jasper

  The man who had opened the doors to the cafeteria with a crash of thunder was indeed the father of Jebediah and Cletus. He was also the school janitor, and a person who inspired awe, respect, and more than a bit of fear among all of Hollow Oak Elementary's population.

  His name was Jasper Cragglemeister. Neil had heard his own father describe Jasper as "more of a bear than a man". And that description seemed to be pretty accurate, as far as the Beans could tell.

  Standing at an astounding height of six and a half feet, Jasper towered over other adults. As far as children were concerned, he loomed above them like a mountain. His shoulders were broad, his silhouette menacing. With each breath he drew, his barrel chest expanded like a hot air balloon, and he radiated an undeniable power. It was easy to see from where Jebediah and Cletus had inherited their size and strength.

  He had huge hands, with knuckles the size of walnuts, and long, thick fingers that were covered in scars of varying depths. They were scars that had been gathered from a lifetime of hard work. Those hands were calloused, and like iron, and looked entirely capable of crushing stone, were such a thing called for.

  Jasper always wore the same thing: a set of navy blue overalls, which were made from heavy fabric. Beneath the overalls, he wore a khaki-colored, button-down shirt, the collar of which was stretched taut around his bull-like neck. His feet were housed in big, black boots, polished to an impressive shine. At his hip, there always hung a large brass ring, from which dangled dozens of keys of varying sizes and colors.

  Though not required to wear a uniform for his job, this set of clothing may as well have been such a thing. For though he might have owned multiple copies of the same outfit, it was always this identical combination that he appeared in. Jasper was one for consistency and order, of that you could be sure.

  In one huge, gnarled hand, there was a broom. Though it was a tool designed for cleaning, and therefore not particularly beautiful in nature, this broom was unusual in appearance. Its bristles had been trimmed to a universally equal length, and were near perfection in terms of their symmetry. And the shaft of the broomstick was one of a kind? constructed from rich mahogany, it had been polished to a high shine. The broom more resembled a piece from an art museum, than an implement of cleaning.

  Jasper took his job as janitor very? very? seriously. Does that point need to be made any clearer, my astute reader? No, I think you will agree? it does not. This was a man, bear-like though he might have been, who took cleaning to a whole new level.

  His face was perpetually covered in a stubble that remained at a consistent, short length over his face, neatly trimmed around the sideburns and the line of his square jaw. This angular and stubbly jaw now shifted, as Jasper moved the corncob pipe that he clenched between his teeth from one side of his mouth to the other.

  There was nothing actually inside of the pipe? it was empty. Neil's dad had explained that Jasper liked to chew on it simply from what he called force of habit.

  Some parents had once voiced the opinion that it was not particularly prudent for a member of the school staff to walk about the premises with a pipe in his mouth, because it might be perceived as advocating the practice of smoking. However, it was quickly pointed out by the administration of Hollow Oak Elementary that Jasper was not actually smoking, but simply chewing on an empty corncob pipe.

  They also pointed out that these concerned parents could approach Jasper of their own initiative? but they had no desire to do so. It went without saying: You don't mess with Jasper.

  Was it any wonder that when Jasper entered the cafeteria, bursting through the doors with a crash of thunder, that the schoolchildren fell silent? No, my astute reader, I think you will once again be inclined to agree. Jasper had that? certain effect on people, and even more so on children.

  Now, as he stood amidst the carnage of the chowder-laden cafeteria, surveying the damage in a calm and academic fashion, Jasper chewed thoughtfully upon his corncob pipe. The mahogany broom rotated slowly within one hand, as his huge fingers gently moved it about.

  The bristles brushed against the tile surface of the floor, whispering quietly. It was a sound that could be heard throughout the cafeteria, so silent had the students become. Whish, went the broom. And then the walnut-sized knuckles would ripple again. Whish?. Whish.

  Jasper continued to chew upon his pipe, and his teeth clacked upon the stem of it in the pervading silence. Like the machinations of a medieval bellows, his chest expanded and contracted with his deep breaths.

  And his single eye slowly? slowly? moved about the cafeteria, taking it all in. Slowly digesting all that he saw.

  Yes, there was but a single eye. Not a pair of them, as most people had. For Jasper wore a black patch over one of his eyes, which had been lost some years ago during an accident of which the details remained somewhat? murky. The band from his eye patch encircled his head, parting his black and silver-streaked hair. It was the final, perfect touch for a man of such intimidating character.

  "Hmmmmmm?." He muttered around the pipe, in a noncommittal manner. The schoolchildren collectively inhaled their breath and waited. "Hmmmmmm?" Jasper murmured once again, as if deep in thought, considering all that lay before him.

  The cafeteria was silent. The students seemed afraid to breathe, much less move. Even the lunch lady was paralyzed, her ladle held motionlessly at her side, dripping corn chowder with a slow plip? plip? plip.
All eyes were on Jasper.

  Finally, he spoke: "Oh, this just won't do, children." His voice was so deep, it sounded like it might have been channeled from the very center of the earth. He removed the corncob pipe in one huge hand, inhaled slowly, and exhaled equally slowly, as if granting the children adequate time to consider the seriousness of their transgression. "This just won't do at all."

  Chapter Seventeen

  A Score to Settle

  "It was them kids over there, pa!" Jebediah blurted, pointing toward the Beans. "You know the ones. The troublemakers!"

  "Yeah, pa," Cletus chimed in. He likewise pointed an oafish finger at the Beans. "It was them, all right."

  "What? You started this!" Jack protested. He stood up from behind the table. "And by the way, your grammar is downright horrible."

  "Pa!" Jebediah shouted. He rubbed at the side of his noggin. "I got me a fruit-induced contusion on the side of my head, pa!"

  "They attacked us, out of the blue," Cletus added. "Right, straight out of the blue, I tell ya."

  Neil, Sara, and Maria stood from behind the table, joining Jack in protest.

  "Outrageous!" they cried.

  And, "Preposterous!"

  And, "Unfounded scuttlebutt!"

  Jasper flipped his broom upside down, and pounded the end of it against the floor. It created a great noise at the impact, and in tandem, he shouted, "Silence!"

  The order was obeyed, and all fell quiet.

  He marched to the Beans and stood before them, towering above. "You children have created quite the mess here? Quite the mess, indeed."

  "You weren't even here when it happened!" Sara pointed out. She looked up at the giant. "How do you know how it went down?"

  Jasper leaned in, bringing his face close to that of the Beans. The gaze from his single eye, which was the brilliant color of gray-blue quartz, pierced them like a spear. He lowered his gravelly voice, so that only they could hear him.

  "And do you suppose," Jasper rasped. "That just because I wasn't here, that should for some reason mean that I don't know punks when I see them?"

  "We're not punks!" Neil answered defiantly. "Your son wrecked Jack's lunch, and he had a good laugh about it, too!"