21 - Go Eat Worms!

Before the worms turned mean, before they slithered out to get their revenge,
Todd Barstow had a great time with them.

Todd collected worms. He built a worm farm in his basement.

He studied them. He played with them. He did experiments with them. Sometimes
he carried them around with him.

Sometimes he scared people with them. Especially his sister, Regina.

He liked to dangle the long, purple ones in front of Regina’s face. Sometimes
he dropped them down her back or into her long, brown hair.

He liked to torture Regina’s best friend, too. Her name was Beth Baker, and
she always screamed a high, squeaky scream whenever Todd surprised her with a
big, slimy worm.

“You’re totally gross, Todd!” Beth would squeal.

This always made Todd very happy.

Todd’s best friend, Danny Fletcher, didn’t really understand why Todd was so
interested in worms. But Danny
did
understand how much fun it was to
surprise people and make them scream. So he spent a lot of time with Todd.

In fact, the two of them were almost always together. They even sat together
in Miss Grant’s class, where they whispered a lot, planning what to do next with
Todd’s worms.

Todd didn’t look at all mischievous. In fact, he usually had a very serious
expression on his face. He had dark brown eyes under short, wavy brown hair. No
one ever saw his hair. It was always covered by the silver-and-black Raiders cap
he wore day and night.

He was tall and skinny. His mother said he was as skinny as a worm. Todd
never thought that was funny. He took worms seriously.

Danny looked more like a joker. He had a round, chubby face under curly red
hair, and a really goofy grin. His round blue eyes always lit up when Todd was
about to spring a big, wet worm on an unsuspecting victim.

Whenever Todd succeeded in making someone scream in surprise, Danny would
toss back his head, let out a high-pitched cheer, and slap Todd hard on the back
with his chubby, freckled hand. Then the two of them would screech with laughter, roll around on the floor, and enjoy their victory.

They had a great time with worms.

But whenever anyone asked Todd why he collected them, and why he was so
interested in them, Todd’s expression would turn serious, and he’d say, “Because
I want to be a scientist when I grow up.”

“How many worms do you have?” someone asked him.

“Not enough,” he replied.

He was always digging up more. Looking for champions. He liked them long and
purple and kind of fat.

And squishy. Squishy was very important.

Sunday night it had rained. The ground was still wet as Todd and Regina
walked to school on Monday morning. Todd knew the worms would all be coming up
for air.

He found Danny at the water fountain outside their classroom. Danny had a
finger pressed over the fountain spout, and when kids passed by, he made the
water squirt all over them.

Todd lowered his Raiders cap over his forehead as he leaned close to Danny.
“Meet me behind second base on the playground,” he whispered. “As soon as the
lunch bell rings.”

Danny nodded. He didn’t have to ask why. He knew that Todd’s favorite place to dig up fresh worms was the bare patch of
ground behind second base on the softball diamond.

The ground there was soft and rich. And after a good rain, the two boys could
shovel up ten to fifteen worms without even trying.

Todd kept a gardening shovel in his locker, as well as a small metal bucket
with a lid. He was always ready to collect worms when the time was right.

In class that morning, everyone was talking about the big Science Expo to be
held in the gym on Saturday. Some kids already had their projects done.

Debby Brewster was bragging about how she was going to win the new computer,
the grand prize, by making electricity. Someone shouted out, “Go fly a kite!”
and everyone laughed. The whole class was tired of Debby’s constant bragging.

Todd’s project was just about finished. It had worms in it, of course.

It was a worm house. A little house Todd’s father had helped him build, about
the size of a dollhouse. One side was cut away and covered with a pane of glass
so you could see in. The house was filled with dirt. And you could see all of
the worms—a whole worm family—crawling from room to room.

Danny’s project was really boring. He was building the solar system out of
balloons.

He wanted to share Todd’s project and work on it with him. But Todd wouldn’t
let him. “I don’t want to share the computer,” Todd had said.

“But I helped you dig up the worms!” Danny protested.

“I dug up most of them,” Todd replied.

And so Todd forced Danny to do his own project. Danny blew up
different-colored balloons for all the planets and taped them on a big black
sheet of oaktag.

Very boring.

“What makes you so sure you’re going to win the grand prize?” Danny asked
Todd as he hurried to catch up with him on the playground at lunchtime.

“I checked out the other projects,” Todd replied. “My project is the only one
with real, living creatures. Except for Heather’s snails.”

“Heather has done a lot of experiments with her snails,” Danny commented.

“So what?” Todd snapped. “Snails are for babies. We had snails in first
grade. No one cares about snails in
sixth
grade. No way they can compete
with worms.”

“I guess you’re right,” Danny replied, scratching his red hair.

They squatted down as they reached the bare spot behind second base. Todd
handed Danny his spare shovel.

The playground was empty. Everyone else was inside eating lunch.

The ground was still soft and wet. Worms were poking their heads up from
little puddles. One long worm crawled on top of the dirt.

“The rain makes them all come up,” said Todd, beginning to dig. “This is
excellent!”

He didn’t know what kind of trouble was waiting under the ground.

“Look out. You cut that one in two,” Todd warned.

Danny grinned. “So what? Now you’ve got two little ones.”

“But I only like big ones,” Todd replied, carefully sliding his shovel under
a long, fat worm.

“How many more do you need? My stomach is growling,” Danny complained,
glancing back at the long, redbrick school building.

“Just a few more,” Todd said, lowering the fat worm into the bucket. “He’s a
squirmer, isn’t he?”

Danny groaned. “Everyone else is eating lunch, and I’m out here digging in
the mud.”

“It’s for science,” Todd said seriously.

“This one is as big as a snake. Did you ever think of collecting snakes?”
Danny asked.

“No,” Todd replied quickly, digging deep into the mud. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like worms,” Todd said.

“What’s the
real
reason?” Danny demanded.

“My parents won’t let me,” Todd muttered.

The two boys continued to dig for another few minutes until the ground
started to rumble. Danny dropped his shovel.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Huh?” Todd didn’t seem to notice.

The ground rumbled a little harder. This time everything shook.

Todd pitched forward, dropping onto his hands and knees. He gazed up at
Danny, surprised. “Hey—don’t push me.”

“I didn’t!” Danny protested.

“Then what—?” Todd started. But the ground shook again. And the dirt made a
soft cracking sound.

“I—I don’t like this!” Danny stammered.

Without another word, both boys started to run.

But the ground trembled again, and the cracking sound beneath their sneakers
grew louder. Closer.

“Earthquake!” Todd screamed. “Earthquake!”

Todd and Danny sprinted across the field and the playground and burst into
the lunchroom.

Both boys had red faces. Both of them were breathing hard.

“Earthquake!” Todd shouted. “It’s an earthquake!”

Chairs scraped. Conversations stopped. Everyone turned to stare at the two of
them.

“Duck under the tables!” Danny screamed shrilly. “Quick, everyone! The ground
is shaking!”

“Earthquake! Earthquake!”

Everyone just laughed.

No one moved.

No one wanted to fall for a dumb practical joke.

Todd spotted Beth and Regina across the lunchroom at the window. He and Danny
darted over to them.

“Get away from the window!” Todd warned.

“The ground is cracking apart!” Danny cried.

Regina’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know whether to believe them or not.
Regina, the worrier, was always ready to believe a disaster waited just around
the corner.

But all the other kids in the huge lunchroom were laughing their heads off.

“We don’t get earthquakes in Ohio,” Beth said simply, making a disgusted face
at Todd.

“But—but—but—” Todd sputtered.

“Didn’t you feel it?” Danny demanded breathlessly, his round, chubby face
still bright red. “Didn’t you feel the ground shake?”

“We didn’t feel anything,” Beth replied.

“Didn’t you
hear
it?” Todd cried. “I—I was so freaked, I dropped all
my worms.” He sank into the chair next to his sister.

“No one believes you. It’s a dumb joke, Todd,” Regina told him. “Better luck
next time, guys.”

“But—but—”

Regina turned away from her sputtering brother and started talking to Beth
again. “As I was saying, his head is way too big for his body.”

“He looks okay to me,” Beth replied.

“No. We’ll have to cut his head off,” Regina insisted, frowning into her bowl
of noodle soup.

“Major surgery?” Beth asked. “Are you sure? If we cut his head off, it’ll
show. It really will.”

“But if his head is too big, what choice do we have?” Regina whined.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Todd demanded. “What about the
earthquake?”

“Todd, we’re talking about our science fair project,” Beth said impatiently.

“Yeah. Go out and play in the earthquake!” Regina snapped. “We’ve got
problems with Christopher Robin.”

Todd snickered. “What a dumb name for a bird.”

Regina stuck out her tongue at him and then turned her back. She and Beth
began discussing their project again.

They both agreed they probably should have tried something a little easier.
And smaller.

They were building an enormous robin out of papier-mâché. It was supposed to
be lifelike in every detail, except size.

But the girls quickly discovered that papier-mâché isn’t the most lifelike
material around. It was hard to get the wings to stick to the body. It was even
harder to get the huge round body to stand on the spindly wooden legs.

And now Regina was convinced that the bird’s head was much too big for its
body.

They had used an entire quart of orange paint on the bird’s chest. Now, if
they had to cut the head off and make a new one, the paint job would be ruined!

“Maybe we could just shave a little off the top,” Beth suggested, taking the last potato chip from her bag and crinkling the
bag between her hands. “Can I have some of your soup?”

“You can finish it,” Regina replied, sliding the bowl across the table. “I’m
not very hungry.”

“There’s going to be an aftershock,” Todd warned, staring out the window.

“Yeah. There’s always an aftershock after an earthquake,” Danny agreed.

“I can’t believe you’re sitting here calmly, talking about your dumb
project,” Todd said.

“It’s not a dumb project!” Beth replied angrily.

“Todd, go eat worms!” Regina exclaimed. It was her favorite thing to say to
her brother. She said it at least ten times a day.

“Beth is already eating worms,” Todd said, gazing down at the bowl of soup.

Danny laughed.

“Give me a break, Todd,” Beth muttered, rolling her eyes.

“No. Really,” Todd insisted. “What kind of soup is that?”

“Chicken noodle,” Beth replied warily. She took a spoonful, slurping the soup
off the spoon.

“Well, there’s a worm in your soup,” Todd said with a serious face.

“Todd, you’re not funny,” Beth replied. “Give up.”

“Want to bet?” Todd challenged.

“Bet? What do you mean ‘bet’?” Beth said.

“I’ll bet you a dollar there’s a worm in your soup,” Todd told her, his dark
eyes lighting up.

Danny leaned across the table, a wide grin frozen on his chubby face. “Yummm,”
he said, licking his lips. “A big fat purple one! Can I have a taste?”

“You guys are jerks,” Regina muttered.

“Bet a dollar?” Todd challenged, ignoring his sister.

“Sure. It’s a bet,” Beth said.

She reached across the table and shook Todd’s hand to seal the bet. Then she
ran the soup spoon through the bowl several times to show him there was no worm.