CHAPTER 6
WEDNESDAY
Charlie watered the lunch lady’s plants.
There were a million of them.
A stem with two little leaves had fallen off the smallest one.
Maybe he should throw it out.
But it was dying of thirst.
He stuck it in a plastic cup. He gave it a drink.
Plant watering took a lot of time.
Someday he’d invent a …
He stopped to think.
A pipe with a bunch of arms! They’d go from the sink to the plants.
You’d turn on the water and …
He’d call it the Sink-to-Drink.
Next to him, Mitchell was shining an apple on his shirt. “Talking to yourself, Charlie?” he asked.
“A week without inventing is a long time,” Charlie said.
And now he had to hurry.
Clifton was waiting.
So was Mr. Redfern.
And what about helping Jake in the garden?
There was just too much to think about. The Zigzag Afternoon Center was getting harder than school.
“All right, Charlie,” the lunch lady said at last. “You can go now.”
Charlie went to the lunchroom door.
He looked both ways.
Mr. Redfern wasn’t in the hall.
But Clifton was. He was carrying that huge green box.
They went out to Jake’s garden.
Charlie tried not to look at the stepped-on vegetables.
He stayed away from a bent-over tomato plant.
“How about we look for bugs on the other side of the school yard?” he asked Clifton.
“That wouldn’t work,” Clifton said.
“Sure it would,” Charlie said. “The earth is nice and soft from last night’s rain.”
“Do you see how far away that is?”
Charlie squinted. “About fourteen steps.”
Clifton slapped the box. “Do you think my bug family could walk that far?”
Charlie tried not to laugh. “How can you tell one bug family from another?”
Clifton didn’t answer. He began to dig near the tomato plant.
He dug with a spoon.
Charlie watched. He thought about being able to tell one bug from another.
Suppose he watched bugs all day?
He’d draw their heads, their skinny legs, their stomachs.
He’d put their names beside their pictures.
Ant. Bee. Spider.
He’d make a book. He’d call it the Bug-Looker-Upper.
Most of all, he’d draw the bugs that had wings.
Bees and darning needles. Butterflies.
He’d figure out how they could fly.
He looked up at the tree. If only he could fly his Zinger-Winger.
“There’s another spoon in the box,” Clifton said.
Charlie began to dig, too. “How about a worm?” he asked.
Clifton sat back. “A worm isn’t a bug.”
Charlie nodded. He lifted a couple of ants on the spoon.
He put them in the box with a scoop of dirt.
Would they be stuck in that box forever? It was no place for ants. Falling apart. Damp from rain.
Still, he spooned in a few more.
“Nice,” Clifton said. “You’re keeping the family together.”
Charlie could see the lunch lady in lunchroom window.
And Mr. Redfern was looking out the lab window.
The ants were going crazy. They ran from one side of the box to the other.
Mr. Redfern opened his window.
“There you are, Cooper,” Mr. Redfern called.
At the same time, Clifton said, “Here’s a beetle family.” He piled them in the box with the ants.
“We’re coming!” Charlie called to Mr. Redfern.
Clifton jammed the lid on the box.
They walked back into the center. They left dirt trails behind them.
Charlie swallowed. He still hadn’t told Mr. Redfern about not inventing anything the whole week.
How had all this happened?