“One more thing,” I added. “Tell Bobby that I’ll bring the worm.”
Back in room 201, I found a note inside my desk. It was in code:
I knew the note was from Mila. She liked to test my brainpower. This one was called a color code. The only words that really mattered were the ones that came right after color words. So I circled all the color words. Then I underlined the words that were next in line.
I looked up and saw Mila smiling at me.
I grabbed my throat and made a choking sound. Then my head fell on the desk, as if I had suddenly dropped dead.
At recess, Ms. Gleason gave Mila and me permission to visit the school library. We wanted to learn more about mummies. We found a good book called Mummies! Mummies! and More Mummies!
I was a good reader. But Mila was a fantastic reader. It didn’t matter how many words were in the book or how squished together the words were. Mila could read just about anything.
I looked over her shoulder while Mila flipped through the pages. She’d read a little bit, say, “Hmmm,” or “Boring,” or “Yuck,” and flip the page. When she said “Yuck,” I always made her read it out loud.
Here’s the thing. Long ago in Egypt, they used to make mummies all the time. That’s because the Egyptians didn’t want the bodies to get all juicy. The Egyptians believed they would need their bodies later on in a place called “The Afterlife.” The Afterlife was their idea of heaven.
It took seventy days to make a mummy. The grossest part was when they scooped out the brain. They did this by sticking a long spoon up the dead guy’s nose!
Yeesh.
Then the embalmer—the guy who was in charge of making mummies—took out the dead guy’s stomach and guts and stuff. Then they dried the body out with a special salt called natron and wrapped it up nice and tight like a birthday present.
Presto! One mummy, coming up!
Ding! The bell rang. We had to get back to room 201.
Oh, well. At least now I understood why mummies were so grumpy. They’ve all got headaches!
Chapter
7
Worms in a Box
Mila came over after school. It was the day before Halloween and we had a lot to do. I went into my garage and got a shovel. “What’s that for?” Mila asked.
“Worms,” I said.
We went into the backyard and dug for worms. My dog, Rags, watched us closely. I think he was hoping for a bone. I turned over a rock. “Wow, look at all of them!” I exclaimed.
I asked Mila, “Which one looks the yummiest?”
Mila rolled her eyes.
“Joey should choose,” I decided. “I’ll give him a nice selection. Mila, we need a box or something.”
Mila ran inside my house and came back with a square box about three inches tall. “Your dad gave it to me,” she said.
I scooped the worms into the box. I tossed in some dirt and rocks, just so they’d feel at home.
That night, I got my costume together and shoved it into my book bag. I put the box of worms into a 3rd Street Food Market bag and went to bed. After I flicked off the light, my door nudged open. Clomp, clomp, clomp. Rags climbed into bed with me. I held him tight and fell asleep, dreaming of candy and costumes, worms and mummies.
The next morning it was Halloween. Finally. I saw Joey Pignattano at the bus stop. He seemed quiet, nervous. “Are you ready, Joey?”
He nodded solemnly. “I think so,” he said.
I patted my grocery bag. “I’ve got a nice selection of worms for you, Joey. Fat ones, skinny ones, you name it.”
Joey stared into the bag. “Can they breathe in there?” he asked.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “The worms are just fine.”
On the bus, Ralphie turned around in his seat and smiled at Mila and me. “I learned a new poem yesterday.” He beamed. “Want to hear it?”
“Not really,” I said.
Mila shushed me. “Go ahead, Ralphie.”
“My brother Justin taught it to me. It’s pretty gross,” he warned.
“We can take it,” Mila said.
“You’re supposed to say it when you pass a cemetery,” he explained. He looked out the window. There were no graves in sight. “But this is a special occasion.”
Ralphie cleared his throat.
“The worms go in, the worms go out.
They crawl in your stomach
And out through your mouth.
Your teeth decay, your body turns gray,
And that’s the end of a wonderful day.”
The poem was a big hit. Pretty soon, everyone on the bus was repeating it. I guess you could say we were just a bunch of poetry lovers.
Our plan for Joey was set. He was going to eat the worm during afternoon recess. Eddie Becker said he’d already sold eleven tickets. I took out my journal and figured out the math. Eleven quarters added up to two dollars and seventy-five cents. Now Joey could pay me with Bobby’s dollar and still have money left over. Everything seemed perfect.
Then disaster struck.
Chapter
8
The Robbery!
It never could have happened on a normal school day. But Halloween was anything but normal. “Total chaos,” Ms. Gleason called it. And I guess she was right. It wasn’t a big day for learning.
“What did you boys and girls have for breakfast this morning?” she asked. “Basketballs? You’re practically bouncing off the walls.”
We all laughed. Ms. Gleason was pretty funny sometimes.
A lot of the kids brought in their costumes. Some didn’t. That’s because their parents would pick them up for lunch. They’d go home, eat lunch, and get dressed. Then everyone would hurry back to school for the one o’clock Halloween parade.
I hung my book bag on a hook. Because my cubby was so crowded with junk, I placed my worm bag on the closet floor. Parents started arriving at around eleven o’clock. Everyone complimented Ms. Gleason on her costume. She was dressed up as a basset hound, complete with long ears and a white-tipped tail.
I got dressed in the school bathroom right after lunch. It wasn’t easy. Fortunately, the janitor, good old Mr. Copabianco, helped me draw stitches on my neck and forehead.
“Finished,” he finally announced.
I stepped before the mirror.
“Needs blood,” I observed.
Mr. Copabianco rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve got just the thing,” he said, and rushed out the door. He came back whistling. Mr. Copabianco had a can of red paint and a brush in his hand.
He added a few dabs of paint. “Nice and gruesome, Mr. Jones,” he said admiringly. Good old Mr. Copabianco!
I still had plenty of time before the parade. I was glad, because I wanted to check on the worms. Maybe Joey was right. Maybe they did need air.
I went to the closet.
I looked low. I looked high.
But my bag was gone.
Who in the world would steal a box of worms?
Chapter
9
An Eyewitness
I told Mila that the worms were missing.
We immediately walked over to Bobby Solofsky. “Is this another one of your tricks?” I asked.
Bobby was dressed like a football player. “No tricks, Frankenstein,” he replied. “I’m a quarterback. I don’t pull bunnies out of my hat. Besides, I don’t know what in the world you’re talking about.”
I watched him closely. Bobby looked me right in the eye when he spoke—and he never blinked. He was telling the truth for a change. Go figure.
“Ms. Gleason, did you see anyone take my bag?”
“No, Theodore, I didn’t,” she answered. “Today has been so hectic with people coming and going. What kind of bag was it?”
I told her it was a brown bag with red handles.
“Was it from the 3rd Street Food Market?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said hopefully.
“I know exactly what it looks like,” she said. “I used th
e same kind of bag for my pie today. I’ll keep my eye out for it.”
Ms. Gleason greeted Nicole Rodriguez and her mother. Nicole was dressed as a giant grapefruit. Suddenly, Bigs Maloney, dressed like a professional wrestler, entered the room. “Ms. Gleason, I’m back,” he announced.
“You found it OK?” Ms. Gleason asked him.
“Easy as pie,” Bigs said, smiling widely.
“Jigsaw,” Mila said. “If someone took that bag, then there must be witnesses. Let’s ask around. Maybe somebody saw the thief.”
Mila had better luck than me. She was back in five minutes. “I found a witness,” Mila said.
Mila stood beside Helen Zuckerman, who was dressed like Wonder Woman.
I pulled out my journal. “What did you see, Helen?”
“This may sound crazy,” she said, “but I saw someone walking down the hall carrying a bag.”
“What kind of bag?” I asked.
“Um, brown, with red handles, I think.”
“Did you get a good look at who had the bag?” I asked.
Helen glanced at Mila. “Tell him,” Mila urged.
“Well, um, sort of.”
“Sort of?” I said. “What do you mean, sort of?”
Helen looked me in the eye. “I saw him. But at the same time, I didn’t see him.”
I closed my journal. “Helen, you may be a witness to a crime. Tell me exactly what you saw.”
“He was … he was a … mummy.”
“A mummy!” I exclaimed. “Surely you’re kidding.”
“Don’t call me Shirley,” Helen said.
“Huh?”
“My name is Helen. Don’t call me Shirley.”
“I DIDN’T call you Shirley,” I explained.
“Did too,” Helen replied. “You said, ‘Shirley, you’re kidding.’”
“Shirley?” I said. “No, no. I said surely.”
“Are you sure?” Helen said, confused.
“Not anymore,” I admitted.
Oh, brother. Now we were both confused. I scribbled in my journal: Witness saw mummy with shopping bag.
“Pretty strange,” I said.
“I don’t know what’s stranger,” Mila observed. “That Helen saw a mummy … or the conversation I just heard!”
Chapter
10
Pumpkin Pie?
I never really believed it. I mean, it was fun to talk about mummies and all that. But I thought it was just talk—just my rotten brothers telling me crazy stories.
But now I didn’t know what to think.
Did the mummy really rise from the dead? Was this his idea of Halloween fun? Stealing a bag of worms?
The trouble was, I didn’t have enough facts. And you can’t solve a mystery without facts. It’s like trying to finish a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing.
Just not gonna happen.
“Maybe the worm thing wasn’t such a hot idea,” Mila said.
“Poor Joey,” I said glumly. “It will break his heart. We sold tickets and everything.”
Meanwhile, a group of kids was gathered around Helen.
“He’s back,” I heard Bobby Solofsky say. “The mummy has returned!”
That nearly sent the class into a panic. Ralphie Jordan told everyone about what happened to Twinkles the cat and Earl Bartholemew.
“And don’t forget Mr. Reilly,” Kim Lewis said. “His hair turned white when he saw the mummy.”
The more kids talked, the more afraid they got. A few boys even hid in the closet until Ms. Gleason told them that enough was enough. She barked, “That’s enough of this silliness.”
Ms. Gleason stood up and slammed the closet doors shut. Unfortunately, her tail got stuck between the doors. That made her even madder.
That’s when Ms. Gleason saw that Geetha Nair was hiding under a desk.
“Geetha, what are you doing under there?”
“Hiding from the mummy,” Geetha answered in a quivery voice.
Ms. Gleason heaved a heavy sigh. “Please come out, Geetha. I don’t think mummies go to school.”
Suddenly, Geetha pointed toward the door and screamed, “THEN WHAT’S HE DOING HERE?!”
Everyone stared at the door. A hand, wrapped in bandages, slowly pushed it open.
Kids screamed and dived under desks.
But I stood my ground. Not because I was brave. But because this particular mummy looked a little familiar.
“Oof,” the mummy mumbled as he bumped into Ms. Gleason’s desk.
“Joey?” I said. “Is that you?”
The mummy lifted a bandage and looked at me with one eye. “Hey, Jigsaw. Nice costume. It’s me, Joey.” He looked around the classroom. “Why is everyone under their desks? Did the hamsters get out again?”
I noticed that Joey was holding a bag. My bag. I snatched it from his hand. “I’ve been looking all over for this.”
“Hey, don’t get mad,” Joey said. “Besides, I thought you said there were worms in there.”
Bigs and Mila gathered around.
Joey continued, “See, I had been thinking about the worms all day. I was worried about them in that box of yours. So I thought I’d take them outside for a little exercise.”
“Exercise?” I said.
“And fresh air,” Joey added.
I scratched the back of my neck. “So what’s the problem?” I asked.
Joey opened the bag and pulled out a box. It was shaped like my box. Except it was white, not gray. Joey opened the lid. “See for yourself.”
I looked inside. “Pie?”
Joey stuck his thumb into the pie and gave it a lick. “Mmmm, pumpkin,” he said.
Then I remembered what Ms. Gleason had said. She used the same kind of bag for her pie today.
Mila must have been reading my mind. She said, “But if Joey took Ms. Gleason’s pumpkin pie … then who has the worms?”
Chapter
11
Mila Saves the Day
I turned to Bigs. “Where were you just now, before you came into the classroom?”
Bigs jerked his thumb toward the door. “I delivered a bag for Ms. Gleason. It was for the—”
“Pumpkin pie contest!” Mila shouted, finishing his sentence.
Somehow the bags got switched. Joey took the pie by mistake. And Bigs delivered a box of worms!
Uh-oh.
There was no time to waste. “Bigs, Mila, let’s go—and bring the pie!”
We raced to the auditorium.
The halls were crowded with ghouls and ghosts. We saw pirates and superheroes, ballerinas and princesses. We saw a giant M&M chatting with Pocahontas. We even saw a four-legged cow. With so much going on, no one paid much attention to a vampire, Frankenstein, and a wrestler hustling down the hall.
Bigs opened the auditorium door a crack.
“What do you see?” Mila asked.
Bigs whispered, “I see the principal, Mr. Rogers, standing in front of a long table. He has a fork in his hand.”
“This isn’t good,” Mila said.
“He’s already judging the pie contest,” Bigs explained.
We all poked our heads through the crack in the door. Mr. Rogers placed a fork in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. The school secretary, Mrs. Garcia, stood beside him. She wrote on a clipboard.
“Mr. Rogers is at the end of the table, Jigsaw,” Bigs said. “He’s opening the last box!”
“What can we do now?” Mila asked.
“WAIT!” I screamed.
But it was too late.
We ran up to the table. Mr. Rogers—who, by the way, was dressed like The Cat in the Hat—stared at us. Then down into the box. Then at us again.
He had found the worms.
And we were in big, big trouble.
Mr. Rogers’s face turned red. “Is this some kind of foolish prank?” he demanded.
I stammered, “I … er … you see … ah…”
Mr. Rogers crossed his arms and stared down at me. “I’m waiting
, Jigsaw.”
Mila spoke up. “Great job, Mr. Rogers. You found Jigsaw’s worms.”
Mr. Rogers grimaced. “Apparently so.”
“It’s my mistake,” Bigs piped up. He handed Mr. Rogers the bag with Ms. Gleason’s pumpkin pie. “I brought the wrong bag.”
“And these worms?” Mr. Rogers asked.
How could I ever explain it, I wondered.
Mila thought quick. “They’re for Jigsaw’s costume!” Mila reached into the box and pulled out a worm. She placed it on my head.
Then Bigs grabbed a few and laid them on my shoulders.
“It adds to the overall creepiness,” Mila explained.
Now it was Mr. Rogers’s turn to stand in silence.
“Like in the poem,” Mila said.
“Poem?”
“Yes, you know:
‘The worms go in, the worms go out.
They crawl in your stomach
And out through your mouth.’”
Mr. Rogers rubbed his eyes and groaned.
“I’ll get the aspirin,” Mrs. Garcia offered.
“Yes, thank you, that would be nice,” Mr. Rogers said to her. He turned back to us. “As for you three. Please get back to your classroom, it’s nearly time for the parade. And I’ve got one more pie to taste.”
We started to leave.
“Wait!” Mr. Rogers called out. “Please take the worms. Unless they are students here, they don’t belong in school.”
Chapter
12
Joey’s Big Moment
The Halloween parade was a gigantic success. All the parents cheered and waved. Cameras flashed. Both my parents were there … and so was Grams, waving wildly.
When we got back to room 201 after our march around the school, it was time for the class party. We ate spider cupcakes, opened treat bags, played games, and listened to music.
Everyone turned to look when Mr. Rogers burst through the door. Smiling happily, he handed Ms. Gleason a blue ribbon. She won first prize in the contest! We all clapped and cheered.
The Case of the Mummy Mystery Page 2