The Case of the Tortoise in Trouble Read online

  The Case of the Tortoise in Trouble

  BY NANCY KRULIK

  ILLUSTRATED BY GARY LaCOSTE

  For Ian, keeper of the family tortoise

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

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  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  “Can I go on your field trip? Please, Jack! I’ve never been to a farm. I wanna go. Please!”

  I was sitting at the breakfast table, getting ready to scarf down a blueberry pancake, when my pet beagle, Scout, started barking in my face.

  To everyone else in my family, it just sounded like Scout was begging for people food instead of dog food. But I knew what was really going on. That’s because I can talk to animals. Really. I understand them. And they understand me.

  It all started a few weeks ago when I got hit by an acorn from the big oak tree in my front yard. Ordinarily, the only thing an acorn bash to the head would have left me with is a lump. But this tree was a magic tree. Seriously. If a human gets hit with an acorn from that tree, he gets special powers—like being able to talk to animals.

  I didn’t believe it at first. Who would? But it’s true. Zippy and Zappy, the two squirrels who live in the tree, told me. And if you can’t believe squirrels, who can you believe? They’re pretty much the experts when it comes to acorns.

  Anyhow, that’s how I knew Scout was begging me to take him on my school field trip to the Oat Run Farm.

  “Dogs aren’t allowed on school trips,” I explained to him.

  “What?” My mother turned from the griddle and gave me a funny look.

  Oops. I hadn’t meant to talk to Scout in front of my family. I had never told my parents about the whole being-hit-with-an-acorn-and-talking-to-animals thing. They’d probably never let me go near a tree again as long as I lived. That’s just how parents are.

  “I meant to say, ‘Dogs can’t have pancakes,’” I said quickly. Phew. Good save.

  My mother plopped a blueberry pancake on my five-year-old sister Mia’s plate. “Breakfast is served,” she said.

  Mia looked down at her pancake and started counting. “Five, six, seven, eight.” She shot me a nasty smile. “I bet that’s more blueberries than you have, Jack.”

  I popped a whole pancake in my mouth. “Whatever.”

  “Jack’s talking with his mouth full,” Mia tattled.

  My mother looked over. I swallowed really fast.

  “I think that shirt’s a little small,” my mom told me.

  I shrugged. “My Tigers shirt is my have-a-good-time-on-a-field-trip shirt,” I said. “I have to wear it.”

  “Speaking of field trips, you must be looking forward to spending the day outdoors at the farm,” my dad said.

  “I wish I was going to a farm,” Mia said. “I love animals. Especially my Tut.”

  Tut is Mia’s desert tortoise. He lives in a terrarium in her room.

  “I bet Tut would love to visit a farm,” Mia continued.

  Now Mia was talking with her mouth full. But I didn’t say anything. I’m not a tattler. Besides, it was funny watching bits of purple pancake drip out of her mouth.

  “Why don’t you bring Tut with you on your field trip?” Mia asked me.

  I shook my head. “I’m not bringing a tortoise to school.”

  “But you’re not going to be in school,” Mia said. “You’re going to a farm. And Tut would love it. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

  “Why does everyone want to go on my field trip?” I groaned.

  Mia gave me a strange look. “Who’s everyone?” she wondered. “I just asked about Tut.”

  Oops. I’d almost blown it. Again. I couldn’t let Mia the Pain know that I could talk to Scout—or any other animal. She’d tell everybody. Mia cannot keep a secret!

  “I mean, I’m sure Scout would want to go run around on a farm, but I’m not bringing him,” I said quickly. “And I’m not bringing Tut, either.”

  Mia scowled. I got ready for some major screaming or whining.

  But Mia didn’t say anything. She just shrugged and took another bite of her pancake.

  Wow! Mia had given up. I’d won the battle. And it had been so easy!

  But Scout wasn’t giving up nearly as easily. He wanted to go to that farm really badly. I guess he figured if he barked loud enough I’d give in.

  “Come on, Jack,” Scout yelped. “I just want to go somewhere fun. Are you going to get to go in a car? Are you going to get to eat really good people food? You know I love people food.”

  I just drank my juice and tried to ignore him.

  Actually, ignoring Scout was easy. But it was pretty hard to ignore what was going on outside the kitchen window. Two squirrels were busy making faces at me.

  No, really. They were making faces. Zippy, the one with the bite in his ear, was sticking his tongue out at me. “Na na na na na,” he chattered. “You can’t catch us.” He turned around and wiggled his big squirrel butt right at me.

  Zappy, his brother, was holding up his little paws and pretending to box. “Come on out, Big Head,” he said, using his stupid nickname for me. He punched the air—and fell backward right into the bushes.

  “I meant to do that!” Zappy shouted. I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. Zippy and Zappy were real goofballs.

  “Mommy!” Mia shouted out. “Jack’s laughing at me!”

  “I am not,” I insisted. “I’m …”

  Just then, a really bad stink filled the kitchen.

  “Pee-yew,” Mia said. “Who did that?”

  “It wasn’t me,” I told her.

  “It wasn’t me, either,” Mia said.

  “She who smelt it, dealt it,” I told my little sister.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Mia whined. “MOMMY!”

  “I’m just saying—”

  Suddenly, Scout interrupted me. “It was me,” he whimpered. “I gotta go outside.”

  “I think Scout needs to go to the bathroom,” I told my mom. “Is it okay if I take him for a quick walk before school?”

  “Don’t let me stop you,” my mom said. “Get that stinky dog out of here.”

  Lucky me. Saved by the smell.

  Chapter 2

  “You ready for this trip?” the Brainiac asked me. She and I were standing outside the school building with the rest of the third graders, waiting for the buses that would take us to the farm.

  Actually, the Brainiac’s real name is Elizabeth. Everyone just calls her the Brainiac because she’s the smartest girl in school.

  “I guess.” I looked down and tried not to notice the way Elizabeth was blinking and smiling at me.

  “It’s going to be tough for you with all those animals,” she said.

  “Shhh …” I warned. “There are people around.”

  Elizabeth is the only person in the whole world who knows about me being able to talk to animals. She heard me talking to Scout one morning when I didn’t think anyone was around.

  Lots of people have heard me say things like sit, or stay, or roll over to Scout. But that wasn’t the kind of conversation Scout and I were having. And Elizabeth knew it. She figured out what was going on. She isn’t called the Brainiac for nothing.

  Luckily, Elizabeth
is very good at keeping secrets. I really didn’t want anyone else knowing I could talk to animals. They’d make fun of me. Especially Trevor the Terrible. He’s a total jerk.

  A total jerk heading right toward Elizabeth and me!

  My palms got sweaty. Trevor’s the biggest kid in our whole grade—and the meanest.

  “Oh, look, it’s the kissy faces, together again,” Trevor said so loudly everyone could hear him.

  Oh man. That made me mad. I do not like Elizabeth. At least not the way Trevor meant it!

  “WE ARE NOT KISSY FACES!” I shouted so everyone could hear me, too.

  “Then why are you always together?” Trevor asked.

  “Because we’re detectives,” Elizabeth told him. “And partners.” She twirled one of her wormy-looking red curls around her finger and gave me a smile.

  I don’t like when Elizabeth smiles at me that way. She makes it look like we really are kissy faces—which we most definitely are not!

  “Oh, right.” Trevor laughed. He sounded like he didn’t believe a word she was saying. “Detectives.”

  Trevor could laugh all he wanted, but Elizabeth and I really were detectives. We’d already solved our first case by finding my best friend Leo’s plans for the science fair—with some help from Scout and his dog friends.

  It turns out animals are really helpful when it comes to solving mysteries. Crooks don’t usually worry about having animals as witnesses because they don’t think animals can talk. Boy, are they wrong.

  Trevor must have gotten bored teasing Elizabeth and me because he suddenly walked away—probably to find someone else to bother.

  As soon as Trevor was gone, Leo walked over to us. Leo’s the smallest kid in our grade, so Trevor seems really huge and scary next to him. I think that’s why Leo stays as far away from Trevor as possible.

  “You want to be my field-trip buddy?” Leo asked me.

  “Definitely,” I said. “Like always.”

  Elizabeth gave me a weird look and shifted her backpack onto her other shoulder. I got the feeling she thought she was going to be my buddy this time. Being detective partners is one thing. But being buddies on a school field trip is another.

  Luckily, one girl in our class, Sasha, didn’t have a buddy yet. She was really happy to have the Brainiac as a partner—especially because we had to work with our buddies to fill in a worksheet during the trip. Some worksheet questions can be pretty tough—for everyone but Elizabeth.

  “Let’s get on the bus first, so we can have our pick of seats,” Sasha told Elizabeth. She spun around so fast her long brown braid nearly hit me in the face. “I like to sit near the back. How about you?”

  Elizabeth shot me another look. It was kind of pitiful. I could tell she didn’t want to be buddies with Sasha all day. Not that I blamed her. Sasha never stopped talking. And she was really loud.

  But what could I do? Elizabeth and I may have been partners, but Leo was my buddy. My best buddy. That’s just the way things were.

  Chapter 3

  “Do your ears hang low? Do they wobble to and fro?” I sang along with the other kids on my bus as we headed down the highway to the farm. I was feeling pretty good. “Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow?”

  Suddenly, I glanced down at my backpack. It was squirming in the seat next to me. I did a double take. Backpacks aren’t supposed to move, especially when all that’s inside them is a notebook, pencils, and the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that my mom had packed for my lunch.

  Weird.

  “Hey! Who turned out the lights?” the backpack said.

  Double weird. Pencils, notebooks, and peanut butter don’t talk, either.

  But animals squirm. And they talk. At least to me. I reached into my bag and pulled out a very frightened tortoise.

  “Tut! Oh, Mia!” I shouted out angrily.

  “Why did you bring Mia’s tortoise?” Leo asked me. “He’s going to ruin our whole day.”

  “I didn’t—” I began.

  “I could have brought my guinea pig, Mr. Sniffles,” Leo interrupted. “But I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t bring Tut, either,” I told him. “Mia must have shoved him into my backpack. I should have known. She gave in way too easily this morning.”

  Mrs. Sloane looked back to see what the commotion was about. “Jack! What is that?”

  “My sister’s tortoise,” I explained.

  “Why would you bring a tortoise on a field trip?” Mrs. Sloane asked me. She sounded angry. Not that I blamed her. I was angry, too.

  “I didn’t,” I said.

  Trevor started to laugh. “Uh, hello? You’re holding a tortoise right now.”

  Everyone on the bus giggled.

  Grrr … Trevor can be such a jerk.

  “Trevor does have a point,” Mrs. Sloane told me. “Do you mind explaining this?”

  “I didn’t bring Tut on purpose,” I insisted. “My sister must have snuck him into my backpack when I wasn’t looking.”

  “Your sister shouldn’t have a tortoise for a pet,” Sasha said. “Tortoises aren’t supposed to live in glass cages. They’re supposed to live free in … well … wherever they’re from.”

  “He’s a desert tortoise,” I said.

  “In a desert, then.” Sasha pushed her glasses back up on her nose, flipped her long braid behind her, and folded her arms over her purple T-shirt. Now she looked angry, too.

  Oh great. So now there were four people who were upset because of the tortoise—Leo, Mrs. Sloane, Sasha, and, of course, me. Pretty soon the only person who wasn’t going to be angry was Trevor—because he liked making fun of me for having a tortoise in my backpack.

  I didn’t want to argue with Sasha. I just wanted to figure out what I was going to do with Tut.

  Luckily, Mrs. Sloane had an idea. When we got to the farm, she found a box for Tut and then got a bowl of water from the manager of the farm.

  “We’ll leave Tut with our lunches in the red barn,” Mrs. Sloane told me. “It’s warm enough for him to be comfortable, and the barn door is open for him to get some fresh air.”

  “How come there aren’t any windows in this box?” Tut asked. “My other box had a great view.”

  A view of Mia’s messy room, I thought. But I didn’t say that out loud. The last thing I needed was for Mrs. Sloane to find out I could talk to animals.

  Instead, I just said, “Thanks, Mrs. Sloane.”

  Mrs. Sloane shot me a smile almost as nice as the ones she usually gave to her favorite student, Trevor. “I have a little sister, too,” she said. “They can be pains sometimes.”

  Sometimes? Mia was a pain all the time. But I wasn’t going to let her ruin my day.

  Chapter 4

  “What’s that stink?” Trevor the Terrible shouted as we walked into the big red barn.

  “It’s the animals,” Elizabeth told him. “Their fur smells, and so does their … well … you know. When they go the bathroom.”

  Everyone laughed. Elizabeth’s face got so red it matched her wormy, curly hair.

  “I think the stink is coming from Cubby’s backpack,” Trevor said. He walked over and sniffed at Leo.

  Now it was Leo’s chance to turn red. Cubby was his mom’s nickname for him—because Leo was a lion name and lion babies are cubs. The last thing Leo wanted was for everyone in school to know his nickname. But Trevor had heard Leo’s mom say it once, and now he used it whenever he could.

  But Trevor wasn’t kidding about Leo’s backpack. It smelled sometimes. Mostly because Leo usually forgot to throw out his leftover lunch.

  “What’s so funny?” Mrs. Sloane asked us.

  “Oh, I was just telling farm jokes,” Trevor said. He gave our teacher a big, fake smile.

  “Getting everyone in the mood, Trevor?” she asked. “How terrific!”

  I don’t know why Mrs. Sloane falls for Trevor’s nice-guy act. But she does. Every time.

  Trevor smiled at her. Then he glared at Leo and me, jus
t to make sure we weren’t going to tell Mrs. Sloane what had really been going on.

  We filed into the barn and sat down on big hay bales. Mrs. Sloane placed Tut’s box on a shelf near the back of the barn.

  “Welcome to the Oat Run Farm, boys and girls!” a man with a long gray beard and huge cowboy hat said as he walked into the barn. “I’m Mr. Trotter, and I manage this farm. Today, you’re all junior farmhands. And to help you get into your new roles, here are your official farmhand hats.”

  Mrs. Sloane and the other two third-grade teachers began to hand out kid-size cowboy hats. They looked just like the one Mr. Trotter was wearing, except his was brown leather and ours were felt.

  “Thanks,” I said as Mrs. Sloane gave me one of the cowboy hats. It was pretty cool.

  “Okay, kids,” Mrs. Sloane said. “Now that you are all official junior farmhands, it’s time to have fun. For the next half hour, I want you to check out the farm. Learn your way around. There are signs pointing to all the different places you can go. Check out the reptile room, and visit the dairy barn for a milking demonstration.”

  “There’s also a petting zoo,” Mr. Trotter suggested.

  “Petting zoos are cruel,” Sasha said loudly. “How do we know those animals even want to be petted? Did anyone ask them?”

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Trevor asked her. “It’s not like we speak goat or donkey.”

  Elizabeth looked over in my direction and giggled.

  Oh man. Did she have to do that in front of people?

  “You can go anywhere you want, Sasha,” said Mrs. Ellery, another third-grade teacher. “Just remember to stick with your buddy, and answer questions on your worksheet about all the places you visit on the farm.”

  “And stay inside the yellow fences,” Mr. Trotter told us. “We don’t want anybody wandering.”

  “Each class will have a separate time for horseback riding. My students will be meeting at the stables at ten o’clock,” Mrs. Sloane said. “Please don’t be late.”

  A lot of people cheered for the horseback riding. But not me. I had something else on my mind.