CHAPTER FOUR

Professor Fauna’s eyes landed on Uchenna and Elliot, like a predator finding its prey. He began to weave in and out of the lunch tables, making his way toward them. He moved with a crackling, manic energy that made everyone—teachers and kids alike—jump out of his way.

He arrived at their table, glancing at the other kids nearby and then running his big brown hands through his wiry hair, making it stand up even straighter.

“Buenos días, mis amigos,” Professor Fauna said. He was from Peru, and his voice was rich and rocky and slightly accented. He could easily have played a secret agent in an action movie—if the secret agent had been lost in the wilderness for ten years without a change of clothes or a comb. “I hope you have recovered from our adventures of yesterday.”

Every kid at the table turned to stare, first at the professor, and then at Elliot and Uchenna.

“Uh, hi, Professor,” said Elliot.

“Yup,” added Uchenna quickly. “Doing fine.”

Professor Fauna nodded. Then, he hesitated. He began shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Clearly, he wanted to say something to Uchenna and Elliot, but felt he could not with all the other kids around. He noticed the book that Elliot had been reading. “Ah!” he said. “You received my package! I am glad it did not fall into the wrong hands!”

Professor Fauna suddenly seemed to realize how strange that sounded. He looked around. Absolutely every kid within earshot was staring at him. He cleared his throat. “Uh, for example, the, uh, the hands of a clock! Those would be . . . wrong . . . because clocks . . . cannot read!”

“What?” both Elliot and Uchenna said at once.

“Never mind!” said the professor quickly. “Anyway, I would like to request your attendance after school for a meeting of the, um, club we spoke of yesterday.”

One of the kids at the table, a freckly boy named Lucas, asked, “What club, Mr. Fauna? Can I join, too?”

“It is the, uh, club for . . . ,” Professor Fauna stammered. “For the history, uh, and the philosophy of . . .”

Elliot and Uchenna could see that the professor was struggling to come up with a believable cover story. They both tried to think of the worst, most terrible idea for a club they could, so that none of the other kids would want to come. Unfortunately, they blurted out their ideas at the same time.

“Nutrition,” said Uchenna.

“Worms,” said Elliot.

“What?” said Lucas.

“Yes, the Worm-Nutrition Club!” exclaimed Professor Fauna, thrusting a long finger into the air. “We will be discussing how to feed and care for worms.”

Some of the kids at the table snickered.

“Mostly, we find that they like poop,” the professor added.

“Ugh!” someone groaned.

“Chicken poop, they like. And duck poop, too. Cat poop, on the other hand—”

“They get the idea, Professor,” said Uchenna.

Lucas looked positively queasy. “Actually, I have soccer after school.”

Professor Fauna beamed at Elliot and Uchenna and then winked. They rolled their eyes. “Come to my office. You know where it is.” He gave them a little salute and then strode away through the cafeteria.

A girl leaned toward Uchenna. “You’ve seen his office? I heard he has a torture chamber under the school. Is that true?”

Uchenna looked at Elliot. He shrugged.

“Something like that,” Uchenna replied.