Check out Chapter One of The Black Walrus below. I hope you enjoy!
Alex yanked open the door to his locker and threw his hands up, bracing himself. The mountain of paper teetered like a cartoon stack of pancakes about to fall, and Alex leaned against it with his shoulder like he was trying to body-check a staggering brown bear.
He dug through the mountain of notebook paper and comic books with his free hand. Some of the pages slipped out of the main clump and floated to the tile floor. Alex glanced at each scribbled drawing, keeping track of the pieces of paper he’d need to pick up after he found what he was looking for.
There were the plans for the grappling hook guns that still needed a propulsion system and the blueprints for the miniaturized smoke bombs and the pages and pages he’d dedicated to finding a way to build an interspecies communication system.
At last, he found it: a moist, room-temperature, half-eaten carton of tapioca pudding sandwiched between a few empty cans of Caffeine Armageddon energy drink and an old issue of The Inexplicable Mullet Man.
Alex didn’t really like tapioca, but he’d found that it had the best weight balance of all the puddings. It was firm, yet slick enough to get the job done. Like a 1920s bootlegger or Charmin ultra-absorb toilet paper.
“Hi, Alex!” Alex turned his head to face Tracy Stranson. She was twirling her curly blond hair and smacking her lips as she chewed some gum, probably her thirtieth stick today. “Were you lost in your own, little world again?” Tracy giggled.
Alex shoved the mound of paper back inside his locker and scooped the scattered sheets off the floor. The familiar sights and smells of Cremini City Middle School returned to him.
Sneakers squeaked and slapped on the tile floor while hundreds of chattering voices merged together into an indecipherable din. It was cool; the air conditioner was always cranked up too high.
“Yes,” he said, “I was pondering the viability of some new crime-fighting devices. Nothing you’d be interested in.”
Alex tried his best to avoid eye contact with anyone, even students he knew. Eye contact might mean getting sucked into a conversation about a geometry test or the next school dance or the latest sports ball game or why you shouldn’t soak your feet in Pepto Bismol, despite its skin-moistening effects. There was no time for such pleasantries.
“How do you know I wouldn’t be interested?” Tracy snapped through gum-smacks. “You’re so quiet and weird. I was just trying to be friendly.”
“Well, so was that guy who threw his neighbor’s dirty poodle in a washing machine.”
“What are you doing with that pudding? It smells and it looks way too old to—”
“Shh!” Alex raised his hand and put a finger in front of Tracy’s mouth, “It’s 1:43pm. It won’t be long before Brandon walks through this hallway.”
Alex spotted Drew Patterson across the hall. Drew was new to Cremini City and didn’t have many friends. He wasn’t the sharpest quill at the porcupine convention, either. Before Drew, Alex had never heard anyone try to spell “ketchup” with numbers, emoticons, or Egyptian hieroglyphics.
Sure enough, Alex caught a glimpse of Brandon Spiko strutting down the hallway. He was fingering a smartphone in a case covered with cartoon penguins, a phone Alex was sure he’d acquired just minutes ago.
None of the bigger students seemed to notice or care. This was Cremini City, after all. Theft wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence.
“Why do you want anything to do with Brandon?” Tracy asked, clinging closer to the lockers and lowering her voice to a whisper as she placed her hand on Alex’s shoulder.
The chatter grew quiet as Brandon walked down the hallway. “You saw what he did to Keith last week, and I hear he almost joined the Birthday Gang.” She shivered. “Alex, I think this could get ugly. You aren’t going to pick a fight, are you?”
Brandon shoved the phone into one of the pockets of his leather jacket and slicked his hair back. Each student Brandon came near hopped out of his way like a frightened gazelle.
Alex made a fist and gritted his teeth. He studied Brandon carefully as the red-haired menace stuck out his right leg and tripped another student. Brandon’s eyes were locked on Drew like a lion stalking its prey.
Alex had to act quickly.
He surveyed the hallway, making sure no one was watching him. Like a shuffleboard player preparing his shot, Alex placed the tapioca pudding cup in front of the toe of his shoe. Shoving the cup just a little, he sent it skidding across the hallway like a hockey puck. It stopped just in front of Brandon.
Alex spun to the right and marched toward room 38 for his science class, keeping his back to the crowd in the hallway. He heard the satisfying smack of boy-against-tile. Brandon spewed swear words like a sailor with a scorpion in his pants as Drew bolted past. Alex grinned.
Alex took his seat near the back of the class and set a piece of loose-leaf paper and his copy of “The Ecology of the South American Rainforest” on the desk. He opened it to a random page—it didn’t matter which one he turned to; he’d finished the book and completed all the homework assignments months ago—and scanned the classroom, looking for Ms. Grunderson. The other students filed in and slid into their seats.
Alex spotted a girl texting furiously. Her eyes grew wider, and her mouth curled into a smile as she tapped the phone screen like each finger was a tiny woodpecker.
Alex wondered who she was texting and what she was getting so excited about. In fact, he thought, wouldn’t it be fascinating if he could somehow … construct some sort of device that would … allow him to ….
Alex grabbed the piece of paper and began scribbling with the excitement of a shih tzu discovering a mountain made of bacon. It would have to be small, able to be concealed in a piece of clothing. There would have to be an antenna, something about the width of a yak’s hair, that could transmit to an earpiece.
It’d need to be attached to a device capable of intercepting and deciphering cell phone and radio signals. Then he’d be able to use police radio signals to pinpoint crimes in progress. And if he could find a way to suit up in just a few seconds—
“Alex Portobello!”
Alex’s head shot up, and his glasses jiggled. Above him loomed the gray-haired, jowly, scowling face of Ms. Grunderson. She snatched the piece of notebook paper and examined it.
“‘Communications interceptor for use in crime-fighting arsenal’,” she read aloud. Dipping her head and narrowing her eyes, she sighed. “Alex, this drawing doesn’t have anything to do with our current discussion on the ecosystem of the South American rainforest, does it?”
“I suppose not,” Alex said, “But you’ll find that the design is mechanically sound. This is a science class, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But we’re studying biomes right now. I’ve told you before: you can work on your drawings on your own time.”
“But Ms. Grunderson, if I finish my arsenal, all I’ll need is a colorful crime-fighting uniform and I could finally be a … be a … something … more than a plain, old student.”
“I see. Well, for failing to pay attention, I’m giving you an extra assignment: you are to write a five-page essay about the appearance and properties of each of the seventeen South American rainforest plants we’ve discussed and their effect on the ecosystem. And you’ll be presenting it to the class tomorrow.”
Alex straightened his mouth as Ms. Grunderson walked away and continued her lecture. “That ecosystem must be impressive if it can come close to matching your effect on a biome,” he mumbled. He got a snicker from the seat behind him.