The Egg Heist Investigation

“Mooom, someone stole my chocolate egg!” my younger brother Mike yelled, looking desperately at his basket of candies. “Stop yelling and pick another one. You have a basket full of candies,” my older sister Ava said, annoyed. She reacts with annoyance to almost everything. My mom says it’s because she is in puberty, but I don’t know what that means.

“But I want the missing one,” Mike objected, and he started crying. “Sweetheart, we will find your egg later, okay? I have to meet Aunt Judy now, but when I return, I will help you find it,” my mother promised, hugging Mike.

“I will help him with the search,” I volunteered, even though I knew there was no chocolate egg because I had eaten it. But in my defense, I really wanted that chocolate egg, and I didn’t expect Mike to remember it.

“Thank you, Liam,” said my mom, then she looked at Ava. “Help them, too, please. And keep an eye on them.” She hugged us, then left.

“I’m out of here. I’m too old to be looking for some stupid chocolate egg. You’re on your own,” said Ava, and she left the house as well.

“Don’t worry, Mike. We will find it,” I reassured my brother, and he nodded. “But we need a few things first,” I added, then started looking for notebooks, pencils, a magnifying glass, and flashlights.

I couldn’t find a magnifying glass, but I found my grandfather’s old glasses, so we’ll use them instead. They look similar, and my grandfather doesn’t need them anymore. My mom said he went on vacation and won’t be coming back. He can’t even send us a postcard or text us because he’s in a special place where he isn’t allowed to do either. I think it’s weird, but my mom says it's true, so it must be.

“Now we are true detectives,” I said proudly as we equipped ourselves with everything we needed.

“Where did you last see the egg?” I asked Mike, and he shrugged. “It was in my basket,” he answered sadly.

“Are you sure you didn’t eat it?” I asked, hoping for a positive response.

“Yes, I am sure I didn’t eat the egg,” said Mike resentfully, looking offended by my suggestion.

“Okay, don’t be mad. I’m just asking,” I tried to calm him. “We should ask our dad if he saw the egg,” I suggested, and Mike nodded.

“Dad, have you seen Mike’s chocolate egg?” I asked as soon as we stepped into the garage, where my father was working on the car. But he didn’t answer.

“Dad?!” I yelled louder, and he startled so much that he hit his head on the car. Mike and I chuckled a little, but only silently, because we didn’t want to make our father mad.

“What do you want?” asked our father, a little irritated, rubbing his head.

“Have you seen Mike’s chocolate egg?” I repeated the question.

“Which egg?” asked our father, surprised. I wanted to start describing the egg, but then I realized I wasn’t supposed to know what it looked like. I almost revealed my secret; I have to be more cautious.

“It was blue with little pictures of yellow ducks,” Mike described. They were actually chickens, not ducks, but I couldn’t say that out loud.

“Sorry, kiddos, I didn’t see the egg. But if you’re looking for a chocolate egg, you should find the chocolate hen first,” Dad said.

“Why?” I asked because I didn’t understand why we would need a chocolate hen at all.

“If you have a chocolate hen, it will give you as many chocolate eggs as you want,” he explained. “You should check our coop because sometimes normal hens can turn into chocolate hens. When they want to make this transformation, they often steal chocolate eggs to prepare to lay them,” he added.

“Really? I should have known that sooner. It’s so cool,” I said excitedly, and Mike seemed just as enthused about the information.

“Yes, it is. When you are there, please feed them. I forgot to do it. If you take good care of the hens, the likelihood of them turning is higher.”

“Thank you, Dad,” we said, almost in unison, with Mike. “We will take care of them,” I added, and we started running to the coop.

When we arrived at the coop, we found the chickens a little angry; it was probably because our father had forgotten to feed them. I kind of understand them, because our dad sometimes forgets to make breakfast for us, too.

We gave them food, which gave us time to search their coop. Unfortunately, we didn’t find any chocolate eggs. I knew we wouldn’t find Mike’s egg, but I was a little sad not to find anything at all.

“My egg isn’t here,” Mike said, weeping.

“Maybe one of the hens ate it, and now she will turn into a chocolate hen, so you will have more chocolate eggs,” I tried to comfort him, and he seemed satisfied with this explanation because he stopped crying.

“But how do we turn a hen into a chocolate hen?” Mike asked hopelessly.

“Dad said we had to take good care of them, so maybe if we pet them or sing a song for them, it would work,” I suggested, and Mike almost immediately started chasing one of the hens. I did the same and actually caught one. I started to cuddle with her, but she probably didn’t like it because she pecked me a little.

I was thinking about catching another one when I heard, from a distance, my sister Ava moaning in pain. The moaning came from the old shed. But we aren’t allowed to go there because our dad says a ghost lives there and would be angry if we went to his home.

I was terrified to go there, but since my sister was probably hurt, I decided to help her. I opened the door quickly, but I didn’t see any ghosts. However, I saw a naked guy lying on my naked sister. He was probably the one hurting her.

“Get away from my sister,” I shouted, grabbing the old rake leaning against the shed wall. They both looked startled by my presence.

“Get out of here,” Ava yelled angrily, covering herself with her t-shirt. I was surprised by her reaction. I wanted to help her, but she yelled at me instead of being grateful.

“But he is hurting you,” I objected resentfully.

“No, he isn’t. Now get lost,” she commanded, but I refused to leave her behind.

“Then why did you scream and moan in pain? I don’t understand!” I opposed, and she blushed a little.

“When you are older, you will understand.” I really hate it when people say that. I am old enough. I am six, so I am almost an adult.

“I want to know that now,” I insisted.

“No, and get out of here.”

“Fine, I am going to tell Dad you are here.”

“No, no, wait! I will explain it to you,” she said, and I smirked in triumph. “We were just practicing for a theater performance. I joined a theater club.”

“Really? What is the play about?” I asked suspiciously.

“It’s about a girl being bullied and how she learns to face her bullies,” she explained. I know what bullying is, so I am old enough, after all.

“It sounds pretty lame, but okay. And why are you naked?” I asked suspiciously again.

“It’s better for practice. I taught that in the theater club. Everyone does it this way,” she explained.

“Okay, it sounds believable. Sometimes I have to try it, too. You can go back to practicing,” I said, satisfied, and closed the shed door.

When I returned to the coop, I found Mike sitting on the ground with a hen in his lap. He was petting her and singing to her. In that moment, I saw my mom enter the house with Aunt Judy. Mike refused to leave, so I left him there and followed my mom and Aunt Judy inside.

“Have you found the egg?” Mom asked as soon as we all greeted each other.

“No, we haven’t,” I said, pretending to be sad about it.

“Do you want to tell me something about the egg?” she asked, a little suspiciously. Oh no, she knows! How could she? She always knows everything. I suspect she can read minds. She must be a superhero.

“No,” I answered plainly, trying to play it cool.

“It’s good that you haven’t stolen it, because it would make you a criminal and you would end up in jail,” said my Aunt Judy, relieved. That scared me a lot.

“I would never do that!” I objected almost immediately. I can’t admit to stealing it, not now, not ever. I don’t want to go to jail.

“I hope this is true, because do you know what happens to liars?” she asked me, lowering her voice dramatically. I gulped nervously and shook my head no.

“Their nose turns into a carrot every time they lie. And if they lie a lot, a rabbit will show up and eat their nose,” she said in a whisper. I was horrified and started crying. I have to admit stealing the egg; my nose is at stake.

“I stole Mike’s egg and ate it. Please, don’t let the rabbit eat my nose,” I begged my mom and aunt, sobbing.

“We will protect you; don’t worry,” my mom said soothingly, hugging me. “Thank you for admitting it,” she added proudly.

“Do I have to go to jail now?” I asked sadly.

“No, you won’t go to jail,” my mom reassured me, and I felt relieved. “I have bought the same chocolate egg that Mike is missing. Will you give it to him?” she asked, handing me the blue egg with yellow chickens. I was right. They were chickens, not ducks!

I nodded and took the egg from her. “And this one is for you,” she said, handing me another egg.

“Thank you,” I said excitedly, and I started running to the coop again. I decided to give Mike both eggs, and I am pretty sure I won’t ever steal or lie again. I promise.