Chris and Logan were already there when Spike arrived at the watermelon-eating contest. Gigantic watermelons had been cut up, and large slices were waiting for the contestants. “Last call for the watermelon-eating contest!” Mr. Howard, the president of the town council, shouted into the microphone. Contestants had already taken most of the seats at the table. Spike noticed Todd sitting on the far end and made his way there so he would be able to give Todd his slice of watermelon along with a big slice of revenge. Troy Fillmore was already in position, looking confident in his ability to win the contest for a second year.

            “Before we begin,” Mr. Howard said to the contestants, “I’m going to go over the rules. Your hands will remain behind your back during the entire contest. You must eat all of the red portion. Emmitt Dugan here will be the judge. He will determine when you’ve eaten all of the red portion. His judgment is final. We’re just about ready to begin. Go ahead and set the watermelon in front of the contestants.”

            While Mr. Howard was speaking, Spike had carefully removed the bottle of red dye from his pocket. Using the pointed applicator, he carved a groove in a watermelon slice and filled the groove with the contents of the dye bottle. Then he set the slice of watermelon in front of Todd. Spike recognized Mayor Goodwin standing nearby. He had removed his leather jacket but was still wearing the white T-shirt.

            “Okay, I think we’re all ready,” Mr. Howard spoke into the microphone again. “Wait a minute, there’s an empty chair. Hey, Mayor, don’t you want to get in on this?”

            “I think I’ll pass,” Mayor Goodwin said, patting his belly. “I just ate a big lunch.”

            “Oh, come on,” Mr. Howard urged. “You can’t let Troy win this thing again, at least not without a challenge.”

            The crowd started chanting “Go, Mayor, go! Go, Mayor, go!”

            At last, the mayor relented. “Okay, I guess I’ll do it.” The chair on the other side of Todd was vacant, but because the chairs were crowded together, the mayor asked Todd to move over so he could have the chair on the end. All the contestants had bibs tied around their necks to protect their clothing from watermelon stains. Because the mayor joined at the last minute, no one thought to give him a bib. Spike watched in horror as Mayor Goodwin took the seat in front of the sabotaged watermelon slice.

            Before Spike could switch watermelon slices, Mr. Howard yelled “Go!” into the microphone. Slices of watermelon were sliding around the table as the contestants plunged their faces into the red flesh of the melons. Chomping sounds could be heard as well as groans from the spectators as they saw Troy Fillmore’s watermelon slide away from him and fall under the table. Chris quickly replaced it with another slice, but Troy was now far behind the other contestants. Jennifer was jumping up and down, yelling Todd’s name. Todd was focused on eating the watermelon, but his mouth wasn’t as big as the mayor who was devouring every red speck in record time.

            Spike, who had been watching the excitement, looked down at his hands. They were stained with the red dye. The empty dye bottle lay at his feet. Spike quickly picked it up and walked as fast as he could without drawing attention in the direction of the restroom. As he left, he could hear the crowd cheering.

            “Here’s the winner!” Mr. Howard shouted into the microphone, holding up Mayor Goodwin’s hand. “It looks like we have a new champion this year!” he continued as the contestants were given towels to wipe their faces. “Our mayor has pulled it off for the good old red, white, and . . . red, white, and . . . bloopers! Holy moly, Mayor, what happened to your face?”

            Spike quickened his pace toward the restroom. Everyone stared at the mayor, who was holding the towel in his hands. On his face was a red smile that went from ear to ear. It wasn’t a happy-clown smile but an evil, scary smile. It looked like he had been drinking blood and the blood had splattered onto his white shirt. Women nearby shrieked in terror. Toddlers in strollers and babies in their parents’ arms began to cry. People came running from every direction to see what had happened.

            “Better go clean up,” Troy whispered to the mayor.

            “You!” Mayor Goodwin called out as he entered the restroom. “It was you!”

            Spike looked up from the basin where he was scrubbing his red hands and peered into the stained face of Mayor Goodwin. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then Spike broke away and ran for the door.

From The Handy Helpers Book 3: Red, White, and . . . Bloopers!  The Handy Helpers series is available on amazon

When the grasshoppers ate her mother’s vegetable garden, Amber was secretly happy about it–especially when they ate up all the spinach. Amber couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to eat that slimy green stuff. But when Amber tasted Betty Jenkin’s spinach salad made with fresh spinach, she totally changed her opinion. In fact, when Betty showed up to lend her green thumb in helping the Snyder’s plant a successful garden, Amber insisted that the garden include spinach.

Once the spinach was ready to harvest, Amber wanted to invite Betty to dinner as a way to say thank you. Here is how it went:

Amber was so excited about their special Memorial Day dinner, that she practically dragged her family to the car. “Don’t you want to stay and visit with your friends?” John asked. “It will be hours before Betty comes to dinner.”

“I have to make my special spinach salad,” Amber insisted. “Laura gave me a recipe that she said will be delicious. It’s called Strawberry Spinach Salad. I want to have plenty of time to get things ready.”

Betty Jenkins arrived at the Snyders’ promptly at four o’clock. She brought a jug of homemade lemonade and a cucumber from her garden. “I thought you might like to use this in your salad.” Betty handed the cucumber to Amber.

“That’s exactly what I need,” Amber said, somewhat surprised. “The recipe is supposed to have a cucumber, but I forgot to buy one.”

While her dad got the grill ready for hamburgers, Amber spread the recipe out on the kitchen counter. She took three strips of bacon from the refrigerator and chopped them. Then she cooked the bacon in a small skillet. While the cooked bacon was draining on paper towels, she prepared the dressing using rice vinegar, honey, olive oil, mustard, salt, and pepper. In a large salad bowl, Amber tossed the spinach leaves with slices of oranges and strawberries. Next she added Betty’s cucumber which she had thinly sliced along with some sliced red onion. Just before she was ready to serve the salad, she poured on the dressing, tossing to mix it in well. She divided the salad into individual salad bowls. Then she topped each salad with chopped walnuts and bacon.

As Amber carried her salad out to the patio, she saw her dad taking the hamburgers and corn-on-the-cob off the grill. “Dinner is ready,” he announced. Everyone took a seat around the picnic table in the back yard and John gave the blessing.

“Amber,” Betty said, “your salad is lovely. I’m sure it tastes delicious. Strawberries go so well with spinach.”

“I hope you like it,” Amber said. “I know you make really good spinach salad.”

Everyone was loading their hamburgers with big slices of tomato, onions and lettuce, and unwrapping the corn-on-the-cob. Kyle was the first to taste Amber’s spinach salad. “There’s something different about this salad,” he said. “It’s kind of crunchy.”

“That must be the bacon,” Mary suggested, “or maybe the walnuts.”

“Betty’s cucumber is so fresh,” Amber said. “Maybe that’s what’s crunchy.”

“I see what you mean,” John said to Kyle after taking a bite of salad. “It’s a different kind of crunchy, kind of gritty.”

Mary lifted some of the spinach leaves and examined her salad closely. “Amber, did you wash the spinach before you made the salad?”

“Wash the spinach?” Amber sounded confused. “It didn’t say anything about washing the spinach in the recipe Laura gave me.”

Kyle who had just taken a large bite of salad spit it back into the bowl.

“I should have told you that you have to wash spinach well, especially when it comes from the garden. I’m sorry I didn’t think of that,” Mary said, sympathetically.

“Oh,” Amber said, “I messed up again.”

Mary collected the bowls of salad and carried them into the kitchen.

“I should leave cooking to Laura,” Amber said with a sigh. “I’ll never be a good cook like you, Betty.”

“Well.” Betty laughed. “I wasn’t always a good cook. When Paul and I were first married, I was a horrible cook. I remember the first time I tried boiling eggs. I didn’t know how long to cook them, so I boiled them for half an hour. They were so rubbery you could bounce them off the wall.”

“What did Paul do?” Amber asked. “Did he get mad at you?”

“Not Paul.” Betty laughed again. “He was always a very kind, patient man. He sat right down at the table and ate those eggs—every one. It took him a long time to chew them. It must have been like eating a sponge. I’m sure his jaws hurt for weeks afterwards.”

“That’s a really funny story,” John said. “I think I could tell a few stories like that about when we were first married.”

“But I bet you know better than to tell those stories, don’t you?” Betty said with a wink.

“You have that right.” John laughed.

From The Handy Helpers: Seven is a Perfect Number available on Amazon