I’m Jeff Bunter, and I’m a Goofball.
That’s spelled G-O-O-F-B-A-L-L.
I’ve been spelling lots of words lately. Like D-O-G and C-A-T and S-T-O-P — I-T!
That’s because yesterday I was not only a Goofball, I was also a T-E-A-C-H-E-R.
There was a really hard mystery in Miss Becker’s kindergarten classroom, and the Goofballs went undercover as teachers to solve it.
But we almost didn’t solve it.
In fact, we almost F-A-I-L-E-D!
Luckily, four Goofballs plus one Goofdog equal one pretty okay teacher.
Brian Rooney is a world-class almost celebrity inventor of goofy inventions that don’t really work, but he knows all about science and math like it’s his job.
Mara Lubin is a genius of disguises. Plus she’s as skinny as a pencil and knows how to use one to draw pictures that look like real art.
Kelly Smitts knows history, is super smart, super serious, and super smart. I said “smart” twice because she’s that smart. But she’s also super goofy. She has to be, or she wouldn’t hang out with the rest of us.
I’m a detective from my toes to my nose. I see clues everywhere, and I write them all down in my handy cluebook.
Finally, there’s Sparky, my corgi. He graduated obedience school with the highest marks in the class, even though his short legs made him the lowest dog in the class.
Plus he barks like this: “Goof! Goof!”
But even when you add up all that incredible detective talent, this case was nearly our L-A-S-T!
It started two days ago during final period.
Mara and I were sitting at our usual table in the cafeteria, waiting for Brian and Kelly.
We had a free period, which is exactly like having no case, which is exactly what we were talking about.
“We haven’t solved a mystery in days,” Mara said with a sigh. “I think I’m forgetting what a clue looks like.”
“Me, too,” I grumbled. “Is that a clue?”
I pointed at a man in overalls and a pink cap carrying a ladder and a can of paint.
Mara frowned. “No. He’s just a guy.”
“He’s not just a guy. He’s Daddy!”
We turned to see Violet Boggs standing behind us with her tiny sister, Scarlet.
Violet means purple, but she always wears pink. Scarlet means red, but she always wears green.
“We have a free period, too,” said Violet.
“It better be free,” said Scarlet. “We just spent our last quarter on trail mix.”
“Why is your dad here?” I asked, getting ready to write the answer in my cluebook.
“Badger Point Elementary is an old school,” Violet said. “And Daddy’s helping build new kindergarten classrooms upstairs. Last week he found a weird old elevator.”
“And he took it!” said Scarlet. “Took. Spelled K-O-O-T!”
“Um … T-O-O-K,” Violet said to her sister.
“Your father took the elevator?” said Mara. “Where did he take it?”
“Out!” said Scarlet. “Spelled O-W-W-T.”
“That’s really spelled O-U-T,” Violet said. “Which is where we need to go now. Bye!”
As they both ran to catch up to their father, I wrote it all in my cluebook.
Mara sighed again. “You can write it down, but that doesn’t make it a mystery.”
“I guess that’s true,” I said.
“You even know what I did this morning?” she said. “I tried hiding my own shoes and forgetting where they were so I could search for them.”
“Did it work?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. My mind told me right where they were.”
“My mind tells me stuff all the time,” said Brian, who was zigzagging his way between the tables to us. “But I surprise it by not listening.”
I was going to write that down, too. But there was no mystery about it.
Brian often doesn’t listen to his mind.
“That’s fairly goofy,” I said.
“You know what’s goofy?” Kelly said as she powerwalked over to us, her arms swinging and her mouth laughing.
“I just saw Scarlet Boggs for the second time today. This morning, she ran out of Miss Becker’s kindergarten class to give Principal Higgins a scribbled note.”
Miss Becker was our old kindergarten teacher, but she wasn’t old. She was young and fun and the greatest teacher ever.
When we were small, Brian and I had her for a.m. kindergarten, and Kelly and Mara had her for p.m. Now kindergarten is all day long.
“Principal Higgins turned Scarlet’s note one way,” Kelly said. “Then the other way. Then upside down. Finally, he said, ‘Wonderful! I love it!’ Guys, you should have seen his face!”
“I’ve seen it before,” said Brian. “I’m sure I would recognize it.”
I wrote it all down.
“I miss Miss Becker,” Mara said. “It was so easy to find a mystery in kindergarten.”
I swung around and looked at Brian. He swung around and looked at me.
“The Mystery of the Missing Mitten and the Missing Sock!” we both said together.
Mara jumped. “Tell us!”
“Well,” I said, “it was our first case in Miss Becker’s class. Brian and I shared a cubby. One day, I pulled on my dark blue mittens, and Brian pulled on his dark blue socks.”
“Stop right there,” said Kelly. “Brian, why weren’t you wearing socks in class?”
“I like to feel the carpet under my toes,” he said. “Miss Becker has the best carpet.”
“She really does,” I added.
“Then what happened?” Mara asked.
“One mitten was fine,” I said. “But as soon as I pulled on my other mitten, I realized that someone had stolen the thumb from it!”
Brian gasped. “Not only that. The thief had attached the thumb to one of my socks!”
Kelly frowned. “Wait. Weren’t they just mixed —”
“Shh!” said Brian. “We’re telling it.”
I nodded. “As Goofballs, we knew that a criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.”
“So we put the wrong mitten and the wrong sock back in the cubby and waited in the closet for the thief to return,” said Brian.
“A stakeout!” said Mara. “Then what happened?”
Brian sighed. “I fell asleep on the job. Which I’d never do now.”
“And because I had no one to talk to, I fell asleep, too,” I said.
“When we woke up,” said Brian, “both the mitten and the sock had vanished.”
“So when I left school, I kept one hand in my pocket,” I said.
“And I hopped all the way home,” Brian said. “But whoever did it is still out there.”
“I think you two are out there,” said Kelly.
“I have an idea,” said Mara. “Let’s see if Miss Becker remembers us!”
Before you could spell Y-E-S, we were racing through the halls to K wing.
“She’ll be so happy to see us!” I said. But when we got to her classroom, Miss Becker wasn’t happy.
She wasn’t happy at all.
When she came to the door, she frowned and sighed and wiped a tear from her cheek and said, “Goofballs, something is very wrong!”
