Big News!

by Ida Siegal

  “Okay. Just like that, you gave it to Geraldine? No one else touched it?” I asked.

  “Not that I saw,” Miss Thompson said. “And I’m sure Geraldine wouldn’t put a worm in someone’s hamburger. She’s been our lunch lady for seventeen years. I can’t imagine she would ever do anything like that.”

  “Hmm,” I said.

  “Emma, the health inspector heard about what happened and is going to visit the school to investigate. She could decide that someone should be fired for this. So if you get to the bottom of the mystery, let us know!”

  “Okay, Miss Thompson. I’m on the case! And since I’m famous that means everything will be okay. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Thank you, Emma,” Miss Thompson said.

  Now I knew this case was important, just like Papi said a news story should be.

  “Sophia, I have to solve this case before the health inspector arrives. I don’t want Miss Thompson to get in trouble.”

  “Yeah, she said she didn’t do it, and I believe her,” said Sophia.

  I pulled out my official reporter’s pad and my shiny purple feather pencil and wrote down:

  Clue #2: Miss Thompson gave the hamburger to Geraldine. No worm yet. Health inspector investigating.

  Then Geraldine the lunch lady started telling the kids that lunchtime was over.

  “Time’s up. Let’s go, out the door.”

  I hadn’t eaten a single bite of my sandwich, but I wasn’t hungry, anyway. This case was getting good. I packed up my tools and started to get in line with Sophia and everyone else when I noticed Geraldine cleaning up in the kitchen.

  I started picturing her as a possessed mutant hawk who plucked a worm from the playground, like Javier had said. And then I noticed something peculiar. Inside the kitchen on top of a cabinet were a watering can, a pair of gardening gloves, and a shovel. That’s odd, I thought. Why would garden tools be in the kitchen?

  I popped out of line and snuck into the kitchen to get a closer look. Maybe there were worms inside. While no one was paying attention, I looked at the gardening things. I peeked inside the watering can and picked up the gloves and the shovel to see if I could feel any worms. But all I felt was dirt. Eww. Muy asqueroso. So gross. It looked like dried soil was caked on everything. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I decided this could be a clue. So I pulled out my phone and shot some video of the gardening tools. Then I wrote in my reporter pad:

  Clue #3: Dirty gardening tools on the kitchen cabinet. No worms.

  I remembered Miss Thompson said that she was supposed to work in the organic garden. Were those her gardening tools? If those were her gardening tools, what were they doing in the school kitchen? Was there a chance she did put the worm in Javier’s hamburger?

  WHEN I got home from school, I told Luna everything that had happened and showed her all my clues. After dinner, Papi helped me transfer all my interviews onto the computer. Luna jumped up on my lap and snuggled in for our next reporter lesson.

  “Now that you’ve started an investigation, you’re working more like a real reporter,” Papi told me after all the interviews popped up on the computer screen. “So this time you have to write your story into a script. And when you do your news update, you’ll read the script.”

  Ugh. Writing.

  “But, Papi, writing is hard. Famous people don’t have to write!” I declared. “Don’t you agree, Luna?”

  “Meow!”

  “Exactly.”

  “Emma, I know quite a few real TV news reporters, and they write all their own scripts,” said Papi.

  “Oh, great,” I said with a sigh. Being famous was starting to seem really hard.

  “Come on. No sulking. You can write your own script. We’ll start off doing it together,” said Papi. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “The worst that can happen?” I cried. “What if the script I write is terrible? What if everyone hates it?”

  “Well, that would be great!” Papi said with a smile. My papi really is weird.

  “Weird, Papi,” I said.

  “What I mean is who cares if it’s terrible? At least you did it. And then you can do it again next time, and it can be a little less terrible. And then you can keep trying and trying and eventually, you know what, I bet it won’t be terrible at all.” Now Papi was getting excited.

  “So you want me to write a terrible script?” I asked. That sounded silly.

  “Yes! Let’s see how terrible we can make it!”

  Luna pawed at my face like she was trying to make me laugh, too. I started giggling, just a little. “Okay,” I said. “One terrible script coming right up.” So I took out my shiny purple feather pencil and my reporter’s pad and started writing. Luna jumped onto the desk next to me.

  “Remember,” Papi said, “you want to tell everyone what happened today during your investigation, and then you can pause in the middle to play parts of your interviews so they can hear what the witnesses said.”

  “Right,” I said.

  I had to write the first sentence four times because I kept messing up. I didn’t really want to write the most terrible script ever. But once I got the first sentence right, the rest came out really easily. This is what I wrote:

  News Update:

  This is Emma, and I’m on the air!

  My first sentence sounded amazing—and famous! Then I wrote:

  Here’s an update on the wormburger investigation. Today at lunchtime, I found three new clues. #1: Javier brought in the hamburger from home because he’s allergic to whole-wheat pizza. He gave it to Miss Thompson, who gave it to Geraldine the lunch lady, who gave it to Beatrice the cook to heat up. Now listen to my interview with Javier.

  Then I left a space where I planned to press play on Javier’s interview.

  #2: Miss Thompson says she gave the hamburger to Geraldine and there was no worm inside. The principal and the health inspector are doing their own investigation. Now listen to my interview with Miss Thompson.

  Then I left a space where I planned to play my interview with Miss Thompson. Then I wrote:

  #3: I found dirty gardening tools in the school kitchen. Take a look at them. They were caked with mud, but they didn’t have any worms on them. I’m not sure what that means yet. I’m going to hold on to this clue and see if I can make sense of it later.

  Dad looked at my script and said with a big smile, “Princesa, this is the best—I mean, the most terrible—script I’ve ever read. Nice work!”

  I started laughing. I felt proud but also a little embarrassed. Then Papi said, “Now, why don’t you write something in your script that says good-bye to all your viewers.”

  So then I wrote at the end:

  That’s all I learned today. But the wormburger investigation continues tomorrow! I’ll see you then.

  “Perfect. ¡Perfecto!” Papi said.

  AFTER I finished writing my script, Papi stayed with me while I set up the computer to start recording.

  “I look goooood!” I said.

  “Muy bonita,” said Papi.

  “But wait. I think I could look better …”

  I jumped out of my desk chair, ran out of my room and into my parents’ bedroom, and headed straight for my mom’s closet. Luna ran right after me.

  “MOM?” I called. She was downstairs on the phone.

  “What, hon?” she yelled back.

  “Can I borrow your green velvet blazer with the patches on the elbows, please?”

  “Sure.”

  “Where is it?” I yelled again. But she didn’t answer. “MOM,” I called one more time. “I can’t fiiind it!” And then I turned around and jumped. My mom was right behind me.

  “No more yelling, Em,” she said.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I can’t find the blazer.”

  “Hmm.” Mom looked around in the back of the closet and started tugging at something. She pulled and pulled and pulled. Then I grabbed it, too, and we both started pulling and pulling and pulling …
until it finally came out and we both fell on the floor.

  “Oops.” I laughed.

  “Let’s see if it fits,” said Mom. “Is this for your news show?”

  “Yup, yup.” I put the jacket on over my purple T-shirt. “What do you think? Do I look famous?”

  “Yes, I would say so. You look very famous.”

  I spotted her old pearl necklace.

  Mom saw me staring at it and said, “Here. Take this, too.”

  The pearls felt cold as Mom put them around my neck.

  “There. You look great,” she said with a smile. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks, Mom!”

  I ran back to my room. Reporters need to run a lot. That’s what they do. I don’t know why, but on TV, they’re always in a hurry. So I was like a lightning bolt, right back into my desk chair—this time wearing the green velvet blazer and white pearl necklace.

  “What do you think? Famous?” I asked Papi and Luna.

  Luna meowed in approval, and Papi said “Sí.”

  Now I was ready. I fixed my chocolate pudding-Slinky curls so they were just right. Then I tilted the camera so it was pointed at me. And I couldn’t believe how I looked. I didn’t have any lip gloss or blush, but I felt just like the fancy reporter from TV. I looked professional, and I couldn’t help it when my lips curled into a super smile.

  I grabbed my Emma microphone and called Luna to come sit on my lap. She was a reporter, too, after all. She had to help. I clicked the red record button. Then I looked down at my script and spoke into the microphone.

  “This is Emma, and I’m on the air!” And then I stopped. I wanted to try again with a louder, more reporter-y voice. I cleared my throat and said, “This is Emma, and I’m on the air!” And I sang the last part! It was so funny, Papi started laughing.

  Then I read my script out loud. After I read each paragraph, I paused to play the interview that matched. When I was done with all three clues, I hit the record button again to stop. We were finished.

  Papi and I watched it again all put together.

  It. Was. Awesome.

  “You did a great job with your investigation today, mija. I’m proud of you,” Papi said as he posted it on my school’s website. He had that weird grin again.

  “Thanks, Papi,” I said. “But there’s so much more to do. You heard Miss Thompson. The health inspector is coming, and someone might get fired! I have to solve the case before anything bad happens.”

  “Okay, then we’d better go to bed and get some rest. You’ve got lots of investigating to do!”

  “Okay.”

  “Buenas noches, mija,” Papi said as he kissed my forehead. “Good night.”

  LUNA, what are you doing on the counter?” I heard my dad saying the next morning. “You know you’re not supposed to be there.”

  “She’s making my coffee, Papi,” I explained as I came into the kitchen. Duh.

  “Ah, well then. Carry on,” said Papi.

  All reporters drink coffee. That’s a fact. Papi drinks it every morning. I don’t like coffee, so Luna and I had chocolate milk with foam in a coffee cup. Then we went back upstairs to get dressed.

  “Luna,” I said, “I’m gonna wear my green reporter blazer to school today. It looks more professional to do an investigation with a green velvet blazer.” Luna agreed. So I put on my blazer, a purple shimmer T-shirt, and a pair of jeans—plus the pearls. Then I made sure I packed my cell phone camera, my microphone, my reporter’s pad, and my shiny purple feather pencil in my backpack.

  I tried as hard as I could to listen in class, but secretly I couldn’t wait for lunch. In the early morning, we had music and reading time, which were great. But then after reading time, we had a poetry lesson, and that was not great.

  “Who wants to read their poem to the class?” Miss Thompson asked.

  I definitely did not, so I did not raise my hand.

  “Ooh, I do, I do.”

  That was Melissa G. Of course Melissa G. wanted to read her poem. She always volunteers to be in front of the class. She thinks everyone wants to watch her because she was on TV before, in one toothpaste commercial. She didn’t even say anything. All she did was brush her teeth and smile. But she told everyone all about it, and everyone said she was so famous.

  Humph.

  “Miss Thompson, my poem is about how important it is to brush your teeth.”

  “That sounds interesting. Go ahead, Melissa.”

  Melissa began to read her poem, but I couldn’t even listen. What kind of poem is that? She just wanted to remind people how famous she was. Finally Melissa G. was almost done.

  “So if you brush every day, all your cavities will go away. Your smile will be bright as the sun, and you can be the famous one!”

  “Thank you, Melissa. Very nice. Have a seat. Who else wants a turn?”

  That was silly. Brushing your teeth to be famous? I was going to solve a mystery and save Miss Thompson from the health inspector! I started thinking maybe that was even better than being famous. Hmm.

  After three more poems, Miss Thompson told us it was time for lunch. As we were walking to the lunchroom, I spotted a woman I’d never seen before. She was tall and wore her light blond hair in a really tight bun on the back of her head. She had glasses, held a clipboard, and was walking with Principal Lee. She didn’t look very nice.

  When we all got to the lunchroom, I asked Miss Thompson, “Who was that lady with Principal Lee?”

  “That was the health inspector,” Miss Thompson replied in a whisper. She looked nervous.

  “Oh, no,” I said as I put my hand to my mouth.

  “Don’t worry about it, Emma. It’ll be just fine. Go eat your lunch.”

  But I was worried about it. I knew that time was running out, and I had to solve the case of the lunchroom wormburger today—or someone would get in trouble.

  THE next witness on my list was Geraldine the lunch lady. I got my camera and my microphone ready and headed straight for the front of the lunch line, where Geraldine was standing, making sure kids didn’t cut. I didn’t run like a reporter, because you aren’t allowed to run in the cafeteria. But I walked really fast—until I had to stop because Sophia, Lizzie, and Shakira were calling out to me.

  “Emma, Emma,” they said, hurrying over.

  “Hey, guys,” I said.

  “We saw your report last night. Are you working on your investigation right now?” asked Lizzie.

  “Yup, yup, I sure am,” I said proudly.

  “So do you know who turned Javier’s hamburger into a wormburger yet?” asked Shakira.

  “Not yet,” answered Sophia. “Right, Emma? You need more clues and more interviews.”

  “Exactly. I’m about to interview my next witness, Geraldine the lunch lady. Wanna come, Sophia?”

  “Can’t,” Sophia replied. “My mom says I have to eat my lunch today.”

  “Oh, okay. I think I can manage. See you guys later!”

  I spotted Geraldine near the kitchen and walked over to her.

  “Geraldine?” I said a little timidly.

  “Yes,” she said with a huff. She looked very busy.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Make it quick. It’s Taco Day, and everybody’s taking too long picking their toppings.” She pointed to my reporter supplies. “Hey, what’s that thing?”

  “It’s my camera. I need to interview you for my news show. It’s called ‘Emma Is On the Air,’ and you are my next witness,” I explained.

  “Witness? What did I witness?”

  “You were there when Javier found a worm in his hamburger the other day.”

  “Oh, yes, you’re right,” she said. She didn’t seem to mind that I was recording, so I kept going.

  “Miss Thompson said she gave the hamburger to you before there was a worm inside,” I explained.

  “Right. Miss Thompson asked me to hand it over to Beatrice to heat it up for Javier. So I did,” she said.

  “That�
��s it? You just gave it to Beatrice the cook? Did you look at the hamburger?” I asked.

  “Well, now that you mention it, Javier’s mom wrapped it in aluminum foil. And you can’t put aluminum foil in a microwave. So I grabbed a cardboard container and put the hamburger inside. Then I gave it to Beatrice. And I didn’t see a worm in there.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “Very interesting.” I was pretty sure I’d found my next clue. “Thanks, Geraldine!” I said as I ran off.

  “You’re welcome, Emma,” called Geraldine after me. “Emma—no running! Hey, Dave, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and salsa … pick a topping and move on. There are other kids who need to eat …”

  I run-walk-shuffled to a table, pulling out my purple reporter’s pad and my shiny purple feather pencil. I hurriedly wrote:

  Clue #4. Geraldine took the hamburger out of the aluminum foil and put it into a microwavable cardboard box before she gave it to Beatrice. No worm.

  Hmm. A cardboard box. I thought about that for a minute. I was starting to get a pretty good idea of how that worm might have gotten into Javier’s hamburger, but I needed to do a few more interviews. I ran over to Miss Thompson and asked her a question, without the camera this time.

  “Miss Thompson … you said you were supposed to work on the organic garden by the school yard two days ago, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I never got a chance to, though,” she replied.

  “I know. But do you know who was working on it before lunch?”

  “Yes, it was Mr. Delmonico. He picked a group of kids to work on a special school project, planting zucchini for the bake sale next semester. For zucchini bread.”

  “Javier’s in that group, right?” I asked.

  “I believe so.”

  Lizzie and Shakira are in that same group. I had to find them. Fast.