Buzz
Inventory Note
Clues clashing is a clue too.
Lyra, Orin, Zia, and Smudge arrived at one of the dustier corners of the warehouse. This was saying something, because the whole warehouse was dusty.
There was ordinary dust, old dust, mysterious dust, and the sort of dust that was waiting for a smiley face to be drawn in it.
Between two towering shelves sat a large wooden crate. It looked as though it had been left there a very long time ago. Possibly for a reason. Possibly for several reasons. Either way, nobody seemed to have come back for it.
Until now.
“Oh, it’s mine,” declared Smudge immediately. “Definitely mine.”
“How do you know that?” asked Lyra.
Smudge pointed at the side of the crate.
Painted there in large, wobbly letters was one very helpful name:
SMUDGE
“That,” said Smudge, “is me.”
There were no arguments about that.
Underneath his name, in smaller writing, it said:
CONTENTS: UNKNOWN
Lyra read it back to herself twice. Then she turned to Smudge.
“Unknown?” she asked.
“Unknown,” replied Smudge proudly.
“You don’t know what’s in it?” asked Zia.
“Not immediately,” said Smudge, which actually meant not at all.
This did tell them one thing, though.
Do not open it.
Instead, they began walking slowly around the crate, looking for clues.
One side had been patched with a bit of metal.
Another side had been patched with a square brown object. Everyone silently agreed not to ask. It may have been toast.
Upon closer inspection, there was also a handwritten note on the front of the crate. It was yellowed with age and stuck down with far more tape than any note should reasonably need.
Lyra leaned closer and read it aloud.
DEFINITELY NOT BEES
Everyone stared at the note.
Then everyone stared at Smudge.
Then everyone stared at the note again, just in case it had decided to explain itself.
It had not.
“Why does it say that?” asked Zia.
Smudge thought carefully.
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you write it?” asked Orin.
“Almost certainly,” said Smudge.
“How do you know?” asked Lyra.
Smudge pointed to the bottom corner of the note.
There, in faded pencil, was a little drawing of a serious face wearing a hat.
“That,” said Smudge, “is Serious Man.”
Orin leaned closer.
“Serious Man?”
“Serious Man. I only use Serious Man,” said Smudge, “when something is serious.”
Nobody could really argue with that either.
So, for a moment, they all stood there, considering the serious little face in the serious little hat.
Then the crate buzzed.
Everyone froze.
The crate buzzed again.
Orin took one small step backwards.
“That sounded an awful lot like bees.”
Smudge shook his head.
“Impossible.”
“Why?” asked Lyra.
Smudge pointed at the note.
“The note clearly says definitely not bees.”
The crate buzzed again. Louder this time.
When a mysterious crate buzzes in a dusty warehouse, the natural response is usually to leave the warehouse immediately and possibly move house.
But not Lyra, Orin, Zia, and Smudge.
Oh no.
They were professional warehouse inspectors, and professional warehouse inspectors took their work very seriously.
Even under threat of…
Lyra glanced at the note.
Well.
Definitely not bees.
Instead, they began examining the crate properly.
“Any clues?” asked Lyra.
Zia crouched beside one of the crates and pointed to a neat row of tiny holes drilled into the wood.
“Tiny holes. Possibly air holes.”
Lyra took out a pencil and wrote it down.
Orin ran the end of his pencil along the edge of the lid. When he lifted it, the pencil was sticky and golden.
“Honey?” he said, looking slightly upset that his pencil was now involved.
Zia leaned closer, sniffed it, and made the sort of face usually reserved for old socks and bad decisions.
“Definitely not real honey,” she said.
Lyra wrote that down too. Then she knelt on the floor and studied the dust. “Tiny footprints.”
Smudge blinked. “Footprints?”
“Tiny ones.”
“How tiny?”
Lyra leaned closer.
“Bee tiny.”
The crate buzzed again.
Zia edged around the back of the crate, crouched down, then dropped onto her stomach to peer underneath. “Found something,” she called out in a muffled voice from behind the crate.
A moment later, she wriggled backwards holding an old delivery form between two fingers. Most of the writing had faded, but a few words could still be read.
HANDLE WITH CARE
BUZZING IS NORMAL
Lyra added both lines to the list.
Smudge inspected the delivery form.
“Hmm.”
The crate buzzed again.
Smudge inspected it even harder.
“Hmmm.”
The others waited.
Smudge tapped his chin with one finger.
“HMMMM.”
“Smudge?” asked Lyra.
“Yes?”
“I think we’re all thinking the same thing.”
“That the crate contains a collection of tiny musical instruments?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Lyra held up the list. “Let’s read this back, shall we?”
“Air holes.”
“Sticky stuff.”
“Tiny footprints,” added Zia.
“Buzzing,” continued Lyra.
“Buzzing is normal,” added Orin, pointing to the delivery form.
Orin folded his arms. “It’s bees.”
Zia nodded. “It’s definitely bees.”
Lyra looked at Smudge again.
“It is very difficult to see how this is not bees.”
Smudge folded his arms.
“Ah,” said Smudge. “Because you are forgetting one very important thing.”
“What?” asked Lyra.
Smudge pointed at the note.
DEFINITELY NOT BEES
“Smudge,” said Zia carefully, “everything here says bees.”
Smudge pointed at Serious Man.
It appeared to be a stand-off.
Smudge and Serious Man on one side.
The bee evidence on the other.
The trio looked at one another. Then they looked at the crate.
“Well,” said Zia, “you won’t mind opening it then, will you?”
Smudge looked ever so slightly less confident.
“Open it?” asked Smudge, taking a step back.
“Open it,” said Lyra.
Smudge had a choice to make. He could admit that the crate might actually contain bees, or he could open it and prove that it did not.
Smudge looked at the note.
He looked at Serious Man.
Serious Man looked back with calm certainty.
Smudge believed in Serious Man. It definitely was not bees.
He stepped up to the crate, released the latch, and flipped open the lid.
Out came a swarm of mechanical bees.
Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
Tiny golden bodies. Fluttering wings. A busy, buzzing cloud rising from the crate.
All four warehouse inspectors ran away.
After the kerfuffle had died down, and the Official Warehouse Bee Team had arrived in their thick yellow suits and dealt with the situation, Lyra, Orin, Zia and Smudge returned to the crate.
“I remember now,” said Smudge. “Mechanical bees… That was it.”
The trio stood there covered in tiny mechanical bee stings, looking highly unimpressed with Smudge.
“Definitely not bees, Smudge?” said Lyra.
“They aren’t,” said Smudge.
Orin opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
Then opened it once more.
“I dislike how technically correct that is,” he said.
Annoyingly, Smudge was right. Even more annoyingly, they had all been right.
The note had been right. The buzzing had been right. The air holes, the tiny footprints, and the not-quite-honey had all been right too.
None of the clues had been wrong.
In fact, they had been extremely clear.
They just needed to put them all together.
Smudge picked up the inventory and completed it smugly.
Crate 48
Owner: Smudge.
Contents: DEFINITELY NOT MECHANICAL BEES.
Official mark: Serious Man.
Mystery: solved.
Looking Back
To work out what was inside the crate, the team had to look carefully at the crate and everything around it.
This is called observation. Observation means looking closely at what is actually there. It means noticing all the details in front of you, rather than choosing one and ignoring the rest.
That was Smudge’s big mistake. He trusted the note too much: DEFINITELY NOT BEES.
And he wasn’t wrong exactly. His understanding was just incomplete.
The others weren’t so easily convinced, because what they observed seemed to say: BEES. They found tiny holes in the wood. Orin found sticky golden stuff near the lid. Lyra spotted tiny footprints in the dust. Zia found an old delivery form that said BUZZING IS NORMAL.
What the note said and what they observed didn’t seem to fit together. When something doesn’t make sense like this, it usually means there’s something you don’t understand yet.
The clues that don’t seem to fit may tell you the most.
In the end, all the clues were true. The crate didn’t contain ordinary bees. It contained mechanical bees. The label was right, and the bee clues were right too.
The clashing clues were pointing to the real answer all along.
Smudge’s Takeaway
Observe everything. Rule out nothing. And remember: clues clashing is a clue too.
Concept Check
Circle the best answer for each question.
Which sentence best describes observation?
- Choosing one clue and ignoring the rest.
- Looking carefully at what is actually there.
- Guessing quickly because guessing is faster.
Why were the clashing clues important?
- They proved the note should be ignored.
- They meant the crate was definitely empty.
- They showed there was something the team did not understand yet.
Why is observation useful?
- It helps us ignore strange details.
- It helps us notice what is really there before deciding.
- It means the first answer is always right.
How sure are you?
- I understand it well.
- I mostly understand it.
- I want to read the story again.
Try It
Another crate has been found in the warehouse. Nobody remembers ordering it. Nobody remembers moving it. And nobody is completely sure why it is making the floorboards feel warm.
Very warm.
On the front of the crate is a large note:
DEFINITELY NOT A BABY DRAGON
Underneath the note is a small official mark:
Serious Man
Smudge folded his arms.
“Well,” he said, “that’s settled then. Totally safe to open.”
Then he paused. He thought about the definitely-not-bees incident.
Smudge scratched his head. “Actually,” he said, “is it?”
Can You Help Smudge?
It looks like Smudge could use some help.
Inspect the crate carefully. Is this definitely definitely not a baby dragon… or is something else going on?
What do you notice?
- There are old eggshell pieces in the dust.
- There is a little bowl labelled DRAGON MILK.
So far, the note seems suspiciously wrong. It is hard to see how this is not a baby dragon.
But wait. There are more clues:
- There are large claw marks on the lid.
- One corner of the crate has cracked open.
- Smoke is puffing through the gap.
- The floor in front of the crate is covered in large footprints.
- Something inside the crate is snoring… long, low snoring.
“Uh oh,” said Smudge. “Clashing clues. I’ve seen this before.”
What do you think is really inside the crate?
- Look at the clues again.
- Draw what you think is really inside.
- Label it correctly and accurately.
Your Grid Fragment
That’s the Buzz job complete. The clues have been noticed, the clash has been spotted, and the truth was buzzing there all along.
Now you’re ready to collect your fragment and add it to your grid.
- Do you know what it is yet?
- Can you guess what it might become?
- What makes you think that?
Choose Next Story
Where Next?
Anywhere you like! Choose your next story from the grid.
Finished all nine warehouse jobs? Then you’re ready for The Symbol chapter.