The Smartest Kid in the Universe Read online

  “How do you know all this? Because I don’t have any of it.” Jake tapped the sides of his head the way some people do when the TV is getting bad reception.

  “Not many people know about the cabin boy. Or his father. Or the treasure. Just everybody in my family. Including Uncle Charley. He and my mom are both direct descendants of Angel and Eduardo Leones. ‘Leones’ means ‘lions’ in Spanish.”

  “It does? I mean, when you say it like that, ‘Leones’ kind of sounds like ‘lions.’ ”

  “Uncle Charley’s great-great-grandparents just changed the spelling a little, to L-y-o-n-s. Jake, there’s a reason why a member of our family has worked on that plot of land for over three centuries. They’ve been there to guard the cabin boy’s buried treasure!”

  “So there’s really treasure? Underneath the school? Pirate treasure?!”

  Jake was so excited, it made Grace laugh.

  “Sí.”

  “Of course!” said Jake. “Your uncle Charley’s father and grandfather were custodians at Riverview. ‘Someone employed to clean and maintain a building’ is only the second definition of that word. The first is ‘a person who has responsibility for or looks after something.’ Custodians are protectors.”

  Grace nodded. “For centuries, members of my family have served as noble knights, guarding the treasure our ancestors bequeathed to us.”

  “But wait a second—why didn’t your uncle or one of those other ancestors dig up the treasure if they all knew where it was hidden?”

  “Oh, they’ve tried. Many times. Uncle Charley went on a few expeditions with his father, who’d gone treasure hunting with his father. But the cabin boy was very, very clever. He hid the treasure where no one could find it, not even his family, unless they could decipher his complicated and confusing clue.”

  “So the treasure is still there?” said Jake. “Underneath the school?”

  “Yep,” said Grace. “And if Mrs. Malvolio and Mr. Huxley bulldoze the building, if they reduce it to rubble and crush the cave entrance, we may never be able to find it.”

  “Then we need to stop them. You’re right, Grace. We need to put on a good show at the Quiz Bowl. Impress people with the education ordinary kids like you and me are receiving at Riverview Middle. That might stop the wrecking ball….”

  “So you’ll join my team?”

  “Sí,” said Jake. “That’s Spanish. For ‘yes’!”

  Grace grinned. “Is that so? Well, you learn something new every day.”

  “Hey, I know I do. Usually several things. All at once…”

  “But, Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember: We can’t let Mrs. Malvolio know how brilliant you’ve become. She can’t know you’re our secret weapon. I need you to act dumb at school.”

  “No problem. I’ve had a lot of practice doing that.”

  When Jake and Grace arrived at school the next morning, Kojo was waiting for them.

  “In here. I picked up some hot intel.”

  He motioned for Grace and Jake to follow him into an empty classroom.

  Grace closed the door.

  “What’d you find out?” she asked.

  “That you are absolutely, one hundred percent correct, Grace. Mr. Huxley plans on tearing down our school and building a high-rise condominium. He calls it Riverview Tower. Because it’s a tower. With a river view. They’ve set up a showroom over on East Eighty-Eighth Street. You can walk around in a model apartment. There’s an artist’s rendering of what the building will look like, and it looks like it’s standing right on top of where our school’s supposed to be.”

  Jake sank down on a stool. “Then it’s hopeless. If they’re that far along.”

  “Nothing’s hopeless until you give up hope,” said Grace.

  “You really think that we can stop them?”

  “Of course we can. If we use our brains, anything’s possible!”

  “But,” said Jake, “Huxley has money and power. He has Mrs. Malvolio.”

  “And we have you, Jake,” said Grace. “For some reason, through whatever kind of miracle, you’ve been given a gift.”

  “I didn’t ask for it.”

  “Sometimes the best gifts are the ones you weren’t expecting.”

  “That’s true,” said Kojo. “My last birthday? My mom gave me a kitten from the animal shelter. I didn’t ask for a kitten. Now? I love Squeaky. That’s her name.”

  “Awww,” said Grace. “Cute.”

  “Yeah. She squeaks when she meows.”

  Grace looked Jake straight in the eye. Her eyes were deep and soulful. His armpits were damp and moist.

  “Jake,” she said, “we need to save the school and whatever my ancestor buried underneath it.”

  “Whoa,” said Kojo. “There’s something buried underneath the school?”

  “Allegedly,” said Jake.

  “Pirate booty,” said Grace.

  “You mean gold doubloons or those cheesy corn puffs?”

  “Gold doubloons, jewels, silver,” said Grace. “A whole treasure chest filled with plunder.”

  “Dude?” Kojo said to Jake. “We gotta do this thing. Sure, we’re the underdogs. The small fries in the McDonald’s of life. But if we dig up that treasure chest, we’ll have some serious coinage.”

  “Actually, it kind of belongs to my family,” said Grace. “Legend has it that the pirate Dog Breath stole it all from our noble ancestor Angel Vengador Leones, who was a brave buccaneer.”

  “Okay, how about a fifteen percent commission for me and Jake?” said Kojo. “I want somebody to give me fifteen percent of something.”

  “Five,” said Grace.

  “Twelve,” countered Kojo.

  “Seven.”

  “Ten!”

  Grace nodded. “That would work.”

  “You guys?” said Jake. “Don’t focus on the treasure. Not yet. First we have to stop Heath Huxley from tearing down our school.”

  “Right,” said Grace.

  “For now,” added Kojo. “But then we’re moving into that ten percent territory….”

  A speaker tucked into a corner of the ceiling started to cackle and hum.

  “Is this thing on?” said Mrs. Malvolio’s voice. “It is?”

  There was a series of thuds as the principal tapped the microphone.

  “Been so long since we used this darn thing,” she mumbled.

  Grace, Kojo, and Jake glanced at each other.

  “Something’s up,” said Kojo.

  “Attention, students. This is Mrs. Malvolio. May I have your attention? I have a very important announcement. I am pleased to report that, for the first time ever, our school will be hosting the district-wide Quiz Bowl competition. It will take place next Thursday night in our gymnasium. If you are interested in participating, contact Grace Garcia, who has volunteered to be the captain of our three-person squad. That is all. Have a nice day.”

  “We’re hosting?” said Grace. “We’ve never hosted. Something’s up.” She turned to Jake. “You’re definitely in?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.”

  “Then I’d better go tell Mrs. Malvolio I already have my teammates!”

  For the next few days, Jake focused on not revealing his newfound brainpower.

  He pretended that he didn’t know that the square root of four was two.

  “How can a number have roots?” he told Mr. Keeney, the homeroom teacher who was also his math instructor. “It’s not a tree.”

  Mr. Keeney closed his eyes and pinched the top of his nose. “You were so smart,” he muttered. “Yesterday.”

  Jake even went back to playing basketball the way he used to. Badly. With lots of two-handed, underarm tosses. Except at the foul line, because jelly bean–brain Jake knew that a
scientific analysis had concluded that using a “granny-style” technique was the optimal method for making a free throw, and, until after the Quiz Bowl, he had to miss those shots, too.

  His mom was proud to hear that Jake had joined the Quiz Bowl team. His sister was worried.

  “Everybody at the bus stop says you’re dumb again,” she told him.

  Finally, on Thursday night, Jake, Kojo, and Grace put on matching black polo shirts and Pittsburgh Pirates baseball caps. They marched into the gymnasium to meet their competition—Quiz Bowl teams from the five other middle schools in the district.

  Jake, of course, was nervous. His stomach, queasy. What if this turned out to be the exact moment the jelly beans wore off?

  The bleachers were packed. Jake’s mom and Emma were there. Emma was nervously fidgeting with her hair and chewing the tips. His mom was beaming again. In fact, Jake’s mom had been smiling and tearing up ever since he told her he was on the school’s Quiz Bowl team.

  “I’m so, so proud of you,” she’d gushed.

  Haazim Farooqi was in the audience, too. He couldn’t wait to see Subject One performing under pressure.

  And the pressure was enormous.

  “That’s the district superintendent of schools,” Grace whispered as they crossed the gym’s hardwood floor.

  “Where?” asked Jake.

  “The lady with the glasses sitting next to my dad.”

  “Your dad’s the guy with the goatee in the turtleneck and sport coat?”

  “Yeah. He’s a college professor. He has to look like that. It’s a rule.”

  “TV’s here, too,” said Kojo excitedly, nodding toward a couple of camera crews from local stations that had set up their tripods and equipment on the gym floor. “I love watching TV. Now I’m gonna be on TV!”

  Great, thought Jake. Now everyone can watch me mess up. And if they have a DVR, they can rewind and watch me do it again!

  A podium stood in the center circle of the basketball court. It was flanked by two cloth-covered tables with three chairs and one microphone each. Max Myer, the meteorologist at one of the local TV stations, was checking himself in a hand mirror, prepping and primping to be the celebrity quizmaster.

  “You kids ready to do us proud?” asked Mrs. Malvolio when she came over to greet the three Riverview Pirates. She was carrying a plate of brownies loosely covered with plastic wrap. “Here. The PTO baked these for you.”

  “Thanks,” said Grace, grabbing two. Then a third. “Do we have a PTO?”

  “Not really,” said Mrs. Malvolio. “I shut it down. But if we did have a PTO, I’m sure they’d want to thank you for what you kids are doing. Take the whole plate. They’re yours. You’d better find your seats. We’re about to start. Eat more brownies, kids. You’re not on until the third round.”

  She smiled at Jake. “Do your best, Jake. I’m sure they’ll give you a participation ribbon no matter how many questions you answer incorrectly.”

  Well, thought Jake, that part of the plan sure worked. She thinks I’m a total idiot.

  “Who are we up against in the first round?” asked Grace.

  “Eastside,” said Mrs. Malvolio. “I hear they’re quite good. Not Sunny Brook good, but good. Oh, there’s my uncle Heath. His son Hubert is the captain for Sunny Brook. Excuse me, kiddos. I should go say hello….”

  She waltzed away, her chunky necklace clanking as she waved up at the district superintendent, who sort of half waved back.

  “She only baked for us because she thinks we’re going to lose,” said Jake. “She’s going to be very disappointed.”

  Grace chomped a big bite out of a brownie.

  “Nerves,” she mumbled with her mouth full of gooey chocolate.

  “Relax,” said Kojo. “We’re gonna be great. Because you’re gonna be great.”

  “Um-hmmm,” said Grace, taking two even bigger bites of brownie.

  “There’s Hubert Huxley,” said Jake as they made their way to their assigned seats in the first row of the bleachers.

  “He’s the one who came into the cafeteria to invite me to transfer to Sunny Brook,” said Grace. “Coincidence? I think not. It was all probably part of their plan.”

  “And check it out,” moaned Kojo. “We have to sit next to the big doofus.”

  “I’ll take that seat,” said Jake. “You guys grab the other two.”

  Jake sat down beside Hubert.

  “Ah,” said Hubert. “If it isn’t the genius who thinks vapid video games about intergalactic zombies are twenty-first-century learning tools.”

  Jake just nodded. Hubert leaned in closer.

  “When this is over, the whole audience will be chanting ‘Riverview stinks!’ We’re going to trounce you. If you make it to the finals, that is.”

  Jake smiled. “Okay.”

  Hubert laughed. “You ignoramus. ‘Trounce’ means ‘to defeat heavily in a contest.’ ”

  It also means “to rebuke or punish severely,” Jake thought. But he didn’t say it.

  He was still playing dumb.

  And Grace was still nervously nibbling brownies.

  Jake thought the shocked look on Hubert Huxley’s face was priceless.

  Not to mention the look of shock and horror on Mrs. Malvolio’s mug.

  Riverview—with Grace, Kojo, and Jake taking turns fielding questions—had breezed through its first two rounds without a single wrong answer.

  “You’re amazing!” Jake’s mom shouted when he answered “A stamp” for the question “In philately, what is an Inverted Jenny?”

  They made it to the finals against Sunny Brook Middle School.

  During the short break before the final round, Grace’s stomach started gurgling. Loudly.

  “Are you okay?” asked Jake.

  “I think I ate too many brownies,” Grace moaned, clutching her belly. Jake heard a very loud burble, like bubbles in a bathtub. Grace’s eyes went wide.

  “What’s going on, Grace?” asked Kojo. “Do you have aliens in your intestines?”

  “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” chirped the TV meteorologist, Max Myer, who was really enjoying his stint as a game show host. “It’s time to start the final round!”

  “But I need to go to the bathroom!” Grace whispered through her teeth. “Now!”

  “Go ahead, kiddo,” Myer said out of the corner of his mouth. “You can rejoin your team when you’re finished. But I can’t wait. I need to be back in the studio in time to prep for the ten p.m. newscast. There’s a cold front moving in.”

  “Go on,” said Jake. “We’ll do the best we can without you.”

  Now Grace was hugging her abdomen with both arms. “I think there was something in those brownies Mrs. Malvolio gave me.”

  Of course, thought Jake. Mrs. Malvolio tried to sabotage her own school’s chances by taking Grace out of the game. Did she bake a chocolate-flavored laxative into those brownies? Of course she did! It’s a classic prank!

  Grace ran out of the gym and into the girls’ locker room.

  Jake and Kojo sat down at their table to face off against Heath Huxley and his two teammates from Sunny Brook Middle. They were all wearing matching blazers and ties.

  “You kids ready?” asked Mr. Myer.

  “I was born ready,” said Hubert.

  “And it’s been downhill ever since,” cracked Jake.

  The audience laughed, and Jake realized he could still be his funny, breezy self. Being smart didn’t mean he had to be boring. He’d heard that Albert Einstein was funny.

  “Okay,” said the quizmaster, “the first question is for Sunny Brook. And since this is the final round, the degree of difficulty has gone up.”

  “No worries,” said Hubert.

  Jake’s armpit
s started pumping out sweat. They’d made it to the finals. But now they didn’t have Grace. What if he blew it? What if this was when the jelly beans wore off?

  “For ten points, Sunny Brook, what constellation has an asterism made up of Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka?”

  “What’s an asterism?” someone shouted from the bleachers.

  Hubert grabbed the microphone before either of his two teammates could answer, even though one had her mouth open and was ready to speak.

  “Orion!” he shouted.

  “Well done. Ten points.”

  “And,” Hubert continued, “for the dimwit in the audience, an asterism is a prominent pattern or group of stars.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. Hubert might be a genius, but he was also a jerk.

  “Oh-kay,” said the jolly meteorologist. “Good to know. I guess. Riverview? Here’s your ten-point question.”

  “Bring it on, baby,” said Kojo.

  “What artist wrote these words: ‘When I leave here on this earth, did I take more than I gave?’ ”

  Jake could see the answer floating behind his eyes. It was as clear as the song credits scrolling in a playlist. Jake knew this!

  “That would be the American rapper Macklemore, Mr. Myer,” said Jake.

  “Correct.”

  The questions flew back and forth. Neither Sunny Brook nor Riverview answered a single question incorrectly. Hubert Huxley answered all the questions for Sunny Brook because, basically, he was a ball hog. Jake and Kojo took turns answering for Riverview.

  Kojo had always been smart. But Jake was surprised by some of the correct answers that kept tumbling out of his own jelly bean brain.

  “Cenozoic Era.”

  “Rhinoceroses, or, if you want to be fancy, Rhinocerotidae.”

  “Dwight D. Eisenhower.”

  He even nailed some pretty dense math problems like, “Find the least common multiple of six, eight, and sixteen.”