The Danger Box Read online

  ~never,

  ~never,

  ~never.

  I whispered, “Thank you.”

  I was talking to Gas, but Officer Nab said gruffly, “That’s okay, son.”

  After I handed the notebook back, the policeman slipped it carefully into a clean box along with all the original packaging. “Now tell us what happened,” he said, dusting off his hands.

  So Lorrol and I did. The story tumbled out, complete with all the details about the notebook having been stolen from Darwin’s home in England more than twenty-five years before, and us not knowing it was Charles Darwin’s until after it had been stolen again — for at least the third time.

  My grandparents and Lorrol’s mom apologized to me and Lorrol for not completely believing us; the discovery had just seemed too big. Mr. Dither kept repeating, “Oh, my!”

  Then Gumps apologized to the police for not reporting the goods in the garage right away. “Now you’ve almost caught this — what do we call him — hardened criminal, maybe he’ll fess up to starting the fire in our store. And tell how he got his mitts on such a valuable notebook in the first place. Buckeye’s no angel, I know he helped himself to a truck, but I don’t want to see him punished for another man’s crimes. Especially when he ended up saving that notebook by delivering it to us!”

  “That would be beyond eggshell in the cake,” Gam agreed, and if no one but Gumps and me understood, they were too polite to say.

  Mr. Dither, who had been drumming gently on the table, said, “Glad the kids came in and I called you. Who knows, otherwise … notebook might’ve been gone forever.”

  “It’s all quite astounding, how this handful of little moments added up,” Lorrol’s mom added. “I mean, what if Zoomy and Lorrol hadn’t met, and therefore never gone to the post office that day? The notebook wouldn’t be here on this table. Not in a million years.”

  “Well,” Officer Nab said, “yes, whatever, certainly, and yes, you can bet we’ll use the existence and identity of this notebook to catch Mr. Finner. And I want to say that you each made some — well — unusual decisions here, in this — ah, recovery of the item, but that you each did good.” He beamed and nodded. “You did good.”

  “And you’ll return the notebook to the Darwin folks in England?” Mrs. Shein asked.

  “Zoomy should write the letter that goes with it!” Lorrol blurted before the officer could reply.

  Officer Nab’s throat made a deep rumpa-rum sound, and he said, “Get that letter over to me tomorrow, son,” as if it had been his idea.

  I could only nod. I was so relieved and suddenly so happy.

  “Oh, Zoomy!” Lorrol grinned.

  “Well, if turtles have wings,” Gumps said.

  As we all stood up to go, I heard Gam add, “Hodilly-hum.”

  Dear Darwin family:

  My name is Zoomy Chamberlain and I’m twelve years old. I live in the town of Three Oaks, population a few hundred souls, in the state of Michigan in the United States of America. My town has rescued something that belongs to you and that you probably thought you’d never see again.

  It got rescued by a whole bunch of lucky accidents or maybe I should say crimes. My father, his name is Buckeye Chamberlain, has been gone all my life. He struggles with a serious alcohol problem. Anyway, he’s done a bunch of stuff he barely remembers, and that’s why he didn’t even know he had a kid — meaning me — until recently. Anyway, not long ago he stole a truck outside a bar. Inside that truck was an old box. Inside that box was your notebook.

  My family had a store on our main street, and it was in Three Oaks as long as anyone can remember. It was called Chamberlain Antiques and Whatnots. It burned down because of a terrible fire just two weeks ago. But really, I think it burned down because of your notebook.

  You see, Buckeye showed up at home one night, and had some pie and left that mysterious box in our garage. He was drunk, and disappeared again. After a few days, my grandpa opened the box. Inside was the notebook, wrapped carefully in a worn blanket. I asked if I could look at it, because I love notebooks and write in my own every day with a purple pen. (Never mind, that’s another story.) My grandparents said yes, and meanwhile my grandpa took the old box and blanket to our store.

  I tried reading the notebook later that day and figured out some words. I worked really hard, but it was difficult because of the penmanship. Soon I realized I might have a valuable thing because whoever had kept it had seen the Beagle, Darwin’s ship, and also been to some of the same places, like the Galápagos Islands.

  Then I made my first best friend, Lorrol Shein, she’s eleven and a half years old, and she and I did lots of research at our town library. We both really like Mr. Charles Darwin; he’s inspiring for kids like us. He did so much, even with a truckload of worry crumbs. Lorrol knows about investigative reporting, and came up with a great idea: We could start a free, mysterious newspaper with facts about Mr. Darwin’s life, and leave it around town. We did, and thought it was smart not to say his name or the e word — we’d just let people guess. It’s called the Gas Gazette. I don’t need to tell you why.

  Now for the bad stuff, or some of it. A man with a sticky voice turned up in our town, and we still don’t understand the full story, but he was sniffing around in our store. He recognized the box, opened it, and shook out the blanket. He was angry when my grandpa wouldn’t sell it to him. Then he left. My grandpa knew he was up to no good, and told me we had to give the box, blanket, and notebook to the police. I asked if I could keep the notebook for one more night, at home, and give it one last read. He said sure.

  That night, our store burned down and it broke our hearts.

  The whole town ran outside, and Buckeye was found by the back door of the store, hurt. He said he was trying to stop the fire. He’s still in the hospital. When we got home that night, I remembered that I’d left the notebook in a special fruit crate that I have. It’s called the Danger Box, and I’d hidden it in our toolshed because that seemed so safe. Our toolshed is behind our house.

  Guess what: When I went to get it, I found that someone had stolen the notebook while we were all at the fire. That was the worst night of my life.

  Then Lorrol and I searched the Internet and discovered what that notebook really was: one of Darwin’s field books. We tried to use me as bait to catch the weird stranger, who was still in town. I’m legally blind but we did okay, except I fell down some stairs and Mrs. Gander had to put nasty stuff on my knee.

  Lorrol and I are pretty good detectives, and went to the post office next, to see if the stranger had mailed the package — we realized that he’d be smart to get rid of it. He had.

  There’s more steps, and everyone helped, but we did get it back. And just now the police called to say they’d arrested the guy with the sticky voice, Mr. Wade Finner. He admitted to breaking into the store and then smoking a cigarette while he was hunting for whatever was missing from the box. He hasn’t said he started the fire, but I still think that makes Buckeye look less suspicious. I’m glad.

  Since you’ve been missing this family treasure for so long, we thought we’d better send it right back to you. We’re including a couple of issues of the Gas Gazette and will send more very soon, okay? Plus a map of Three Oaks and some postcards, in case you want to visit.

  There’s a sign at the edge of our town that says, “Happy to Have You, Sorry to See You Go.” That’s what we’re like here, at least most of the time.

  And in case you’re interested, we had no fire insurance on the store. My grandpa is very upset with himself about that, but he couldn’t afford it. So now our garden is much bigger, my grandma bakes and sells a lot of pies and breads, and we have a barter day for the town, right in the empty lot where our store used to be. We’ll survive. My grandpa said we might even eat squirrel this winter. I help with everything.

  So here you go. We will miss the notebook, but we’ll never forget it. Gas is now our very good friend.

  Sincerely,

/>   Zoomy (and our whole town)

  P.S. I only had one day to do this letter, so I dictated it to my grandma, and she wrote it down. Then she took the letter over to Mrs. Fufty, my teacher, who typed it into a computer and printed it for us. Then I got to sign it with my purple pen and write you this note.

  SOME UNEXPECTED THINGS happened after Officer Nab sent that letter and the package. Some things that helped our town survive.

  First, reporters started calling us from all over the world. The first time it happened, we got a call from England in the middle of the night. My grandpa shouted into the phone and then hung up. When the reporter called back and Gumps understood what it was about, he kept repeating his “turtles” saying, and the newspaper guy thought Gumps was trying to tell him about a new species in our small town. He kept asking, “What sort of wings?”

  Next, journalists from all over the United States started showing up in Three Oaks, and that was good for business. Very good. They bought a lot of things, talked with everyone, ate three meals a day, stayed in town, and took a ton of pictures. Mrs. Cloozer was interviewed about the library, Mrs. Gander’s whole house was full to the top, Mrs. Fufty told stories about what a good student I was (I’m sure she exaggerated), Mr. Dither was happy because the post office got so much attention, and we had to have extra barter days at the Whatnots Lot in order to sell all of our pies and vegetables. This has been an especially good year for tomatoes, and those heirloom types sell for a bundle. Our button jar is doing okay these days.

  Buckeye’s the only one who hasn’t been interviewed, but I don’t think he minds. He’ll be able to come home in a few months, after he’s done community service for stealing the truck and living in the pharmacy. We’re making him a room upstairs, in Gam’s old sewing room. We’ve painted it, bartered for a rug, and added fresh curtains. He says he’s a New Man, and will never drink again. I sure hope that’s right. I’ve been to visit him a couple of times in the hospital, and he looks different — some pink burns from the fire, but also short hair and no dirty fingernails. He smiles now, and Gam and Gumps say that makes us look alike. We don’t talk too much to each other, we’re both kinda shy, but I think we’ll make friends. Kin is kin, as my grandparents say, and if he stays healthy he can help a lot with the garden, which is now huge. Gumps says we’ll be running a small farm by next summer.

  I’ve realized some interesting things about Buckeye and me and luck.

  ~First, if Buckeye hadn’t stolen that truck and come home with the box, I would never have seen the notebook. Never in a million years. And seeing the notebook was a gift. It certainly changed my life.

  ~Second, if the fire hadn’t happened (and it might not have if the notebook had been in the store instead of home with me), Buckeye would never have ended up in the hospital treatment place. He might have died from alcohol before he got help, so in a way that fire saved his life. And the fire happened because of me holding on to the notebook. It’s all connected.

  So does that mean we’re good for each other? I think it might.

  There are still lots of confusing opposites and Deeps in my life but I’m starting to see them in a different way. It’s almost like all puzzles have both bads and goods. There’s the good of finding Lorrol mixed up with the bad of having her go home at the end of the summer; the good of Buckeye getting better mixed up with the bad of not knowing how it’ll be when he’s back in our family; the good of getting close to everyone in Three Oaks mixed up with the bad of losing our store; the good of us all getting a bit famous mixed up with the bad of having to answer the same questions over and over, although I’m kind of teasing about that last one.

  When Lorrol goes back to the city in a few weeks, I want to give her my Danger Box. She’ll totally love it, I already know, and it’ll remind her of all our important times together. We’ll keep working long-distance on the Gas Gazette. Plus, we’re still ~waiting, ~waiting, ~waiting to get a “Special Package” that the Darwin family is mailing back to us. I can’t imagine what it is, but I can tell they’re excited about me and Lorrol receiving it. They keep phoning to ask if it’s arrived yet. Mr. Dither will call us right up when it does.

  Gas taught us that lists can take you pretty far in life, and Lorrol and I will keep making all of our lists in purple pen. I’ve gotten her addicted to it. Now that I know Lorrol, I can’t imagine stuff happening without her, like we’re members of the same species who need each other to survive. Does that mean we’ve evolved? I don’t know, but don’t tell; that’s a secret question. Secrets you can control, at least sometimes, and life you can’t — at least, not always.

  Everyone in Three Oaks thinks Gas would’ve liked our town and been surprised by all the fuss over his little notebook. He’s now a friend to us all, and there’s no pebble in the pie that can change that.

  The turtles are already flying.

  WHEN THE PACKAGE finally arrived, Lorrol and I ripped it open. There were gifts of all sizes inside, wrapped with paper and ribbons, and THIS LETTER. Sealed in a fancy envelope with a red blob of something called “sealing wax” on the back, it took us ages to decode, but every minute was worth it. Here it is:

  Lorrol and I think Gas would have been pleased to see his childhood code being used almost two hundred years after he invented it — and by his family.

  We noticed that the code looks like parts of boxes, some empty and some not. If you want our translation, turn to the next page.

  Dear Zoomy and Lorrol,

  We would like to publish your story in a book that will be sold around the world. All money earned will be yours. The contents can include:

  ~ who you are

  ~ how the rescue happened

  ~ The Gas Gazette

  ~ photos of Three Oaks and its people

  We thank you with all our hearts for:

  ~ the Fieldbook

  ~ your amazing work as investigative reporters

  We will help by sending a home computer plus Internet for each of you, and microphones so that you can also tell the story by talking.

  Please visit us at Mr. Darwin’s home in England any time. We will pay all expenses for you and your families.

  Sincerely,

  The Darwin Family

  * * *

  The Gas Gazette: Issue Twenty

  A FREE NEWSPAPER ABOUT A MYSTERIOUS SOUL

  ~My wife and I loved each other, our many kids, and our home in a little town not far from a big city.

  ~Our children were brought up to be kind but not quiet.

  ~They ran, tipped over chairs, jumped on sofas whenever possible, and tried out swearwords. Lots of games happened inside the house. They were allowed to imagine and explore as long as they didn’t hurt others.

  ~Sometimes a guest invited to lunch was shocked at how free the children were.

  ~Often they came into my study while I was working, and did drawings or curled up on my sofa to rest.

  ~They liked to be with each other, and with us. They grew by dreaming, questioning, playing, and thinking.

  ~Some helped me with experiments.

  ~When I was old, I wrote to my one of my sons that I’d been wondering about “what makes a man a discoverer of undiscovered things.” I told him that I thought “the art” was in searching for “the causes and meaning of everything.”

  ~If you live this way, you’ll never be bored, I promise.

  ~There will always be a Danger Box to open.

  Who am I?

  NEXT ISSUE TO COME.

  FREE!

  * * *

  THREE OAKS IS REAL; my characters are not. I’ve only visited this wonderful and unique Michigan town, but I’m always happy to return and sorry to go. I wrote what felt right and true. My apologies if I’ve trespassed in any way.

  I read a huge amount about Gas’s life, and tried to be as accurate as possible. All of the facts about him and the missing item — I’m trying not to give too much away — are one hundred percent real, with the exception of one
detail I left out: a small label with the number 63.5 and Gas’s name inside the front of the item, an entry perhaps added long after the original was complete. This detail, although remembered by some researchers, isn’t visible in the only recorded image and so I didn’t include it in the plot of my book. The quotes in the Gas Gazette were taken directly from Gas’s published and unpublished writings, letters, and notebooks. The words and phrases Zoomy picks out of his secret “find” are all truly there, and can be found online.

  English Heritage, the owner of the missing item, has issued a public plea for the return of this treasure. It is also listed as stolen property in The Art Loss Register. I hope, hope, hope that one day this hugely important piece of history will be returned to Gas’s study, and to the house outside of London where he and his family lived. When and if that happens, there will certainly be a different story to tell and a new Danger Box to investigate.

  A LIFETIME OF READING about Charles Darwin, his world, and his family is now available free and online, thanks in part to the generosity of The Darwin Archive at Cambridge University Library, English Heritage, and many surviving members and friends of the Darwin family. Anyone with access to a computer can enter “Darwin Online” or “Darwin Correspondence Project” and exit with countless original treasures in mind. Try it!

  Here’s the part where I give you a bunch of titles and numbers — if you’re doing some digging, this is your paragraph. All of the words and phrases quoted in the Gas Gazette really were written by Gas himself. Most were drawn either from The Autobiography of Charles Darwin (first published in 1887), Adrian Desmond and James Moore’s Darwin, a detailed plum pudding of a portrait (1991), or Darwin and Henslow: The Growth of an Idea, edited by Nora Barlow (1958). The Darwin quote on the frontispiece is from a letter written to Joseph Hooker in 1844, in “Darwin Correspondence Project,” 729.html; the code in The Gas Gazette: Issue Two can be found in Cambridge University Library, at DAR 271.1:10, and appears on a sheet of paper dated 1819–21; the entries in the list in Hunting can be seen in “Darwin Online” at CUL-DAR 210.9.30; the phrases quoted in The Gas Gazette: Issue Twenty are from a letter written in 1871, to one of the Darwin sons. Deborah Heiligman also quotes this letter in her marvelous Charles and Emma (2009). Should anyone need it, I have a list of the sources for all Darwin quotes that appear in The Danger Box.