by Emily Ecton
Melissa groaned, but she couldn’t help smiling. She was doomed. But at least she wasn’t in this alone. And doomed or not, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun.
“So do you think this is it?” Tanisha asked after Melissa had filled her in on the details. “We take the picture here and you’ve solved the clue?”
Melissa shook her head. “There’s that second part, about the newborns, see?”
She pushed the clue over to Tanisha.
Go to 1910 for ice cream, then stick around to watch the newborns.
Tanisha pored over the piece of paper and made a face. “Beats me, and I love this place. I don’t remember seeing any babies. How’d you figure out the other clue?”
Melissa licked the last bit of hot fudge off of her spoon. “I figured out it was a trick, and once I knew that, I was able to find the statue. This last one was a fluke. I thought it was a joke, so I basically acted like a total crazy person, asking everyone I saw until someone knew what I was talking about. Thanks, by the way.”
Tanisha waved it off. “No biggie. It got me ice cream, didn’t it?”
“I doubt that would ever happen again, though.” Melissa propped her chin on her hand. “I can’t just go around asking people random questions and expecting it to work. But man, I wish it would.”
“So go ahead and try it.” Tanisha’s eyes gleamed. “What could it hurt?”
Melissa crumpled her napkin and stood up. Crazy Person Act, commence. “Worth a shot, right?”
Tanisha put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as Melissa headed over to the woman at the cash register.
Melissa cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me. Could you tell me where I can find the newborns?” Melissa raised her eyebrows at Tanisha while she waited. This woman was going to think she was such a wack job.
The woman cocked her head to the side in the universal what-the-heck-are-you-talking-about? move. “Newborns?”
Melissa nodded. “Newborns. We’d like to see them.”
The woman frowned. “I don’t think I…OH! The newborns, right! Sure, they’re on the other side of the building, with the genetics display.”
Melissa felt like her heart had stopped. She looked back at Tanisha, who looked just as shocked. “Really? The genetics stuff?”
The woman smiled. “Yep, have fun!”
Melissa nodded again and walked back to the table in a daze. “The newborns are on the other side of the building.”
“Near the genetics stuff.”
“Right.”
Tanisha pushed her bowl away. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go see some newborns.”
SPECULATION ON WHAT THE NEWBORNS WILL BE
by Melissa Burris and Tanisha Cole
1. Not real babies. What kind of sick museum would keep a display of real babies?—Tanisha
2. Probably plastic babies that look all fake. And creepy. And will give me nightmares for years. Thanks, scholarship weirdos.—Melissa
3. Or maybe MUMMIFIED BABIES! OH MY GOSH, IT’S A MUSEUM—IT’S MUMMIFIED BABIES. WE’RE GOING TO SEE BABY MUMMIES!—Melissa
4. It’s not that kind of museum. This is a science museum, not a mummy museum. So no mummified babies. (Probably.)—Tanisha
5. Fine, cloned babies, then. But if they’re mummified babies, I’m out of here.—Melissa
Bondi sat on a bench staring at the seal pool, his notebook dangling from one hand. He’d been to the bird house. He’d been to the bird of prey exhibit. He’d been to the swan pond. He’d been to the nature boardwalk. He’d even tried to feed some random ducks the remains of his lunch, but they didn’t want anything to do with him or his chard. And none of the birds he’d seen had anything to do with his clue.
Someone sat down next to him, but Bondi didn’t even bother to slide over to give them room. He didn’t have the energy to be polite. He would probably never move again. What was the point? He was stumped.
Cigarette smoke drifted over from the other side of the bench. “So it’s not here, I guess?”
Bondi shook his head. He’d recognize that raspy voice anywhere, even without the secondhand smoke.
“I can’t figure it out. And if I don’t figure it out, I won’t win.” Bondi’s chest felt tight. He had to win. He always won. He was Bondi, winner kid. He didn’t want to turn into regular Bondi, occasional loser. Who would care about a loser kid? But this wasn’t the kind of thing where he could turn on the charm and come out on top. This was something that he had to do with brainpower alone. And his brain wasn’t doing the job.
Inez crossed her arms and leaned back. “Kid, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s this: you’ll figure it out. I’m not saying it’ll happen today. But you’ll get it eventually. You just need to relax and give your brain a chance to work on it. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”
“Maybe,” Bondi said, dragging his notebook across the pavement. “But the other kids—”
Inez gave a harsh barky laugh. “Who, that tall one? I don’t think you need to worry about him just yet.”
Bondi shot her a halfhearted smile.
“Listen, kid. I need you to be straight with me. You have to answer me something, okay?” Inez leaned forward and looked at him. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Bondi said suspiciously, bracing himself for the worst.
“Good. Now, what the hell was that slop you were trying to foist off on those ducks? Man, oh man, I’ve never seen ducks run like that.”
“That was chard. It’s from the Paleo diet.”
Inez snorted. “The Paleo what? Well, that explains a lot. All right, first things first. We’ve got to get some decent food in you. And then get a pretzel for you to give those ducks as an apology.” She slapped Bondi on the knee. “Trust me. Once your stomach’s full, you’ll be thinking clearly and figuring out clues all over the place.”
Bondi gave a weak laugh and stood up. “Sounds good.” Maybe Inez was right. Food was the answer. And he didn’t care what he ate, as long as it wasn’t green or leafy.
Bondi: Please, Mom. No more chard.
Dad: Seconded.
Mom: Where’s your sense of adventure? Fine. No more chard. What are your feelings about radicchio?
Wilf stared at the blade of grass a few inches from his nose. He would never eat another hot dog as long as he lived. He didn’t even want to think about how many he’d had. Even thinking the words hot dog made him want to puke.
“You okay down there?” Frank said. It sounded like he was a million miles away.
Wilf made a gurgling noise.
“Okay, just let me know when you’re done.”
Wilf could hear Frank walking back toward the car. Wilf wasn’t sure where they were exactly. The grass was nice, though. Nice and long. Probably didn’t get cut very often, but that was okay by Wilf. It tickled his nose a little, but that was okay, too. He liked the way the grass smelled.
Wilf closed his eyes and tried to think about anything but hot dogs and his stomach, and the way Frank had been hitting the brakes a little too hard ever since that last place. It could’ve been Wilf’s imagination. But whatever it was, it totally did Wilf’s stomach in. Yeah, probably Frank’s driving, Wilf decided. Not the hot dogs.
“Thanks…needed to report…”
Wilf could just make out a voice over the sound of cars whizzing past. It sounded like Frank, but who was around for Frank to talk to? Oh man, Wilf hoped he didn’t end up in a hilarious puking video online. Not much he could do to stop it, though, since he couldn’t seem to move at the moment.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. But he thinks it’s solved.”
Frank’s voice was so faint that Wilf could barely hear him. Frank was probably talking on the phone, Wilf decided. That made sense. But then he heard a low, rumbling voice answer back.
Wilf strained to hear what the other person was saying, but the traffic drowned it out. He briefly considered standing up, but when he shifted his w
eight, his stomach immediately voiced its disapproval. Wilf flopped back down. It probably didn’t matter who Frank was talking to, anyway.
“Really?…not quite fair…if you say so,” Wilf heard Frank say. “Right…bigger picture. Sure.”
The other voice said something in response, but Wilf’s ears weren’t up to the job.
Wilf opened his eyes. A tiny green inchworm was walking on a blade of grass up near his forehead.
“…if that’s what you want me to do…” Frank said.
Wilf heard a car door slam. The inchworm reared up and waved its tiny legs around.
Wilf smiled at it. “Don’t worry, inchworm,” Wilf said. “I promise not to puke on you.”
The inchworm looked doubtful. Wilf didn’t blame it.
Melissa stood over the incubator smiling in satisfaction. “Newborns.”
Tanisha peered over her shoulder. “Yep. And some not-quite-yet-borns.”
The incubator in the center of the room was filled with eggs, hatching eggs, and chicks that had just managed to escape their eggs. The older chicks ran around looking all fluffy and cute, rubbing their adorableness in the faces of the just-born ones, who didn’t have the energy to do anything but lie on the ground looking slimy and wet. Melissa snapped a photo of the slimiest chick. She had a soft spot for the disgusting ones.
“Can’t get much newer than that guy,” Melissa said, snapping another photo. That guy was the poster chick for newborns. The fluffy chicks crowded around, like they were trying to get in the picture, too, but Melissa pointedly ignored them.
“Unless you count that one,” Liam said, pointing at a beak poking out of an egg. “He’s newer than your gross guy.”
Melissa took one last photo and slipped the camera back in her book bag. “No dice, buddy,” she said to Liam. “One measly beak doesn’t qualify him as born.”
Liam made a face. “Yeah, I guess. Sorry, dude,” he said to the beak. The beak ignored him.
Tanisha watched as Melissa stowed the camera away. “So you’ve got a photo of the ice cream shop, and a photo of that guy. Is that it for the clue?”
Melissa nodded. “I think so. That means I’ve got two out of three. I may have a real shot at winning this.”
“That’s great. I mean it, really great. But”—Tanisha bit her lip—“does that mean we have to go now?”
“You want to still hang out?” Melissa said in surprise.
“Not if you don’t want to. I mean, I get that you’re busy.”
Melissa punched her lightly on the arm. “I’m busy? You’re the one who’s always got something going on!”
“Me? Yeah, right!” Tanisha punched her back. “No seriously, this was cool. I’m glad we finally got to hang out outside of school.”
Melissa grinned. “Me too.”
“But what about…?” Tanisha jerked her head in Dimitri’s direction and lowered her voice. “He okay with us staying longer?”
Melissa looked over at Dimitri, who was peering at a not-quite-born chick valiantly working to get a foot out of his shell. “Dimitri?” she said hesitantly.
He waved her off. “Melissa, do not disturb me. I am watching our little friend.”
“You are?”
“Yes. And most likely will be until closing time. That will be sufficient time, no?” He took his eyes off of the chick long enough to raise an eyebrow at her.
Melissa and Tanisha gave each other a discreet low five. “Sure, no problem. That sounds like a terrific plan!” Melissa said. “That guy needs your support.”
“Right!” Tanisha beamed. “Don’t let us get in your way. We wouldn’t want to mess up your plans.”
“Thank you.” Dimitri’s mouth curled into the faintest smile. “I appreciate your understanding.”
“Submarine!” Tabi cheered under her breath, grabbing Liam by the arm and heading off toward the elevator.
“No, coal mine!” Liam said, trying to pull Tabi in the opposite direction.
“Both!” Melissa said, herding them up as Tanisha consulted her map.
Dimitri’s smile got wider. He watched the chick waggle his foot as the kids disappeared down the steps.
SOLUTIONS TO CLUES
By: Melissa Burris
1. Go to the site of Lorado Taft’s Death in 1909.
SOLUTION: Up yours. Eternal Silence statue by Lorado Taft in Graceland Cemetery.
2. Go to 1910 for ice cream, then stick around to watch the newborns.
SOLUTION: Museum of Science and Industry, Finnigan’s Ice Cream Parlor on Yesterday’s Main Street, followed by the hatching chicks. Ice cream was eaten, and chicks were observed.
3.
Wilf smushed his face up against the cool window of the car, trying not to move his head too much. He’d left a neat little pile of partially digested hot dogs by the side of the road a few miles back, but he still had vast reserves ready and waiting to aim and fire. Wilf didn’t like to think about how easy it would be for him to go off again.
“Hey, kid, need to make a pit stop, okay?” Frank called from the front seat as he pulled the car over.
“No, I’m okay,” Wilf croaked. “I don’t need to stop.”
Stopping would be bad. If he thought about why he might need to stop, he’d need to stop. Too late—he needed to stop.
“No, this stop’s for me,” Frank said before Wilf could open his mouth to try to say anything. “Just a little Frank time.” He got out of the car and opened Wilf’s door. Wilf tumbled out, catching himself in time to stagger back against the car in what he hoped was a cool, I’m-not-going-to-puke pose.
Frank took a deep breath and clapped Wilf on the shoulder. “So, Wilf.”
Wilf recovered from the unexpected shoulder clap, but barely. He glared up at Frank. He didn’t know what the heck was wrong with that guy, but he was acting like a total weirdo.
Frank took another deep breath and looked around. Then he raised his eyebrows at Wilf significantly. “So, Wilf.”
Wilf blinked and leaned against the car again. He hoped he wasn’t getting car dirt all over his back, but he probably was. It would look great with the side-of-the-road dirt all over his front, and the flopping-down-in-the-grass stains on his jeans.
Frank raised his eyebrows again and then seemed to sag. “So what a view, huh?” He sounded falsely chipper, like he was in a commercial or something.
Wilf glanced around. They were downtown, on Michigan or Congress somewhere. It looked like downtown, anyway. “Yeah, I guess. Are you allowed to just stop here?”
Frank sighed. “Probably not. But just take a look, Wilf. What a skyline. And check out those statues. Have you ever seen anything like that before? Just take a look at that. Pretty inspiring statues, right?”
Wilf peered up through his bangs at the statues looming above them to the left and right. The two Native American warriors on horses stood on either side of the road, their arms outstretched in menacing poses. It looked like they might be naked, too, but Wilf wasn’t planning to investigate that. Frank smiled at him expectantly. Wilf nodded. Cool statues. He’d seen them before.
“Yeah, they’re great.”
“Great,” Frank muttered.
“Yeah. Great.”
A cab driver leaned on his horn, cussing at them as he cut around their car. Frank ignored him.
Frank squinted up at the statues again. “So, Wilf,” he said, sounding strange and stiff and weirdly defeated, “you know what I like best about these guys? Their weapons. Cool, right?”
Wilf stared at Frank like he had gone completely insane. He blew on his bangs and then threw his head back to examine the statues. “They don’t have any weapons, Frank.”
“Exactly.” Frank turned to Wilf and stared him straight in the eye. It creeped Wilf out a little, to be honest.
“Exactly?”
“Exactly.” Frank cleared his throat. “Like their weapons were…” He hesitated and looked away, his face getting red. “Like they were broken. They’re called th
e Bowman and the Spearman, you know. The statues, I mean.”
“Bowman and Spearman. Huh. And the weapons are…” Wilf trailed off. His eyes got wide. He grabbed Frank by the shoulders.
“Oh man, Frank, you know what? You know what?”
Frank turned back. “What?”
“I think these guys are—wait…” Wilf grabbed his backpack out of the car and rummaged around until he’d found his clue packet. “Look—Bowman and Spearman, see?” He read from his notebook. “He breaks the bow and shatters the spear! That’s these guys! This is the solution to the clue! It’s not just the Bible verse, it’s talking about them!”
Frank’s smile was strained. “Really? That’s amazing, Wilf! Congratulations!”
Wilf grinned. “Here, I’ve got to take a picture!” He shoved his backpack into Frank’s arms as he fumbled for the camera. He couldn’t believe how awesome he was. He was rocking this whole clue thing.
After he’d taken a bunch of photos from different angles, Frank opened the car door again. “I think you’re covered, kid. Now, let’s get you home before the cops give me a ticket.”
Wilf nodded and piled into the car. He didn’t even feel like he was going to barf anymore. Well, maybe he did, but not every second, like before. He put the camera back into his backpack as Frank pulled out into traffic.
Frank didn’t say much on the way back to Wilf’s apartment, but that was fine. Wilf had a ton of things to think about. Because one thing was certain: Wilf was back on top.
SOLUTIONS TO CLUES
By: WILF SAMSON
1. Jeremiah 6:23 plus Psalm 46:9
SOLUTION: JEREMIAH 6:23 AND PSALM 46:9. THEY’RE IN THE BIBLE. (ANY BIBLE PROBABLY WORKS, BUT DEFINITELY IN THE NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION.) BOWMAN AND SPEARMAN STATUES ON CONGRESS PLAZA IN DOWNTOWN CHICAGO.
2.
3.
To: Butler
From: Frank Jennings
Subject: Not what I signed up for
Butler:
Once again, I want to register my protest. This is not the way things were supposed to go. I was hired as a driver and a chaperone, and today’s request went way over the line. I don’t want to be forced into that position again.