About Team Trouble!

  Eddie Woo Super Sleuth is ready for action and mystery. With a mind for maths and a nose for adventure, he is about to skateboard into ... danger.

  When Eddie receives a cryptic message from Mr Appleby, a Woo family friend and resident of Sunny Side Aged Care, he is soon on a mission to thwart the evil plans of smugglers.

  It's up to Eddie to crack the clues and improve his skateboarding so that he can enter the annual school Triple Threat Quest with his best friends Rusty and DT.

  Contents

  About Team Trouble!

  Title

  Dedication

  1 Wet Hot Mess

  2 Not Helping, Eddie

  3 Be Kind, Be Brave and Be Yourself

  4 Teddy, Ruby and KC

  5 Nightmare!

  6 Get to the Chopper

  7 Deeper Water

  8 Rub, Eddie, Run

  9 Get it Together, Woo

  10 Ready to Rumble

  11 Secret Numbers

  12 Don't Touch My Stuff

  13 Nosey People Get Hurt

  14 Faster, DT, Faster!

  15 Next Level

  16 Shake it Off

  End ads

  About the Author

  Copyright page

  Newsletter

  TO MY DRAMA TEACHER, MRS YEATES - FOR TEACHING ME THE POWER OF PERSONA.

  EW

  FOR THE EDUCATORS THAT I’VE WORKED ALONGSIDE AND CURRENTLY WORK WITH. YOU WIN HEARTS, SHAPE MINDS AND CREATE THE FUTURE. NEVER LOSE SIGHT OF HOW IMPORTANT YOU ARE.

  DH

  1

  WET HOT MESS

  They sounded like a HURRICANE rolling down Wembley Road.

  Well, two of them did anyway.

  The other one was still at the top of the hill, one foot stuck firmly on top of his skateboard, the other foot firmly gripping the bitumen. On this sunny Saturday morning in Western Sydney, sweat dripped off Eddie’s brow as he watched his two best friends skateboard effortlessly downhill, dodging wheelie bins and the odd dog.

  Eddie Woo, kid Super Sleuth, captain of the Red Hill Public School Maths Team, and not-so-ace skateboarder, was frozen to the spot.

  His two Super Sleuth sidekicks, Rusty Thompson and Daniel ‘DT’ Travers, were ahead of him. (Eddie loved even numbers so he reckoned TWO was a good number of sidekicks to have. And he was in legendary company: Harry Potter had Ron and Hermione, and Percy Jackson had Annabeth and Grover.)

  DT was turning his skateboard in at a 180-degree angle, pivoting his upper body and shifting his weight to the side, skilfully pulling off a slide stop just as old Mr Cranston emerged from the tall black gate with the KEEP OUT sign and pushed his wheelie bin out on to the curb.

  Eddie could see Mr Cranston snarling at DT.

  Rusty Thompson, Super Sleuth Sidekick No. 1, was only seconds behind DT, sliding her skateboard to a complete halt with the same skill and ease.

  ‘Hey, nice stop!’ yelled Eddie, smiling from under his sticker-clad helmet. At the front, his favourite sticker curled up at each corner. ‘Eat my π’ looked like a typo on the worn sticker, but for a keen mathematician like Eddie, it was a sneaky reference to ‘pi’, the number that governed all circles – like the wheels on his skateboard.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Rusty as she tightened her ponytail. ‘Not so rusty today, Eddie,’ she laughed.

  Rusty’s parents had given her that nickname when she was two. Her mother believed her hair was brown, but her father said it was orange. They both settled on the colour ‘rusty’, and the name stuck.

  DT and Rusty looked up the hill at Eddie. His feet were still superglued to the road and board. The ants that scurried around the lid of the wheelie bins were moving faster than him.

  ‘You can do it!’ yelled DT. ‘Just push off with the foot on the ground.’

  ‘Regulate your speed with the angles you’re taking and the weight you’re shifting!’ shouted Rusty. ‘It’s easy!’ But even as she said this, Eddie could hear that she was worried.

  Next week the school would be hosting their annual Triple Threat Quest. Teams would compete in three subject areas: performing arts, academics and sports. Only one team was crowned the ‘Triple Threat Champion’. This year’s contest involved singing, maths and skateboarding. DT was their standout singer, Eddie had some serious maths muscle with Rusty close behind, and DT and Rusty were the two most confident skateboarders.

  They all knew that if they wanted to raise the champion’s trophy above their heads, Eddie would need to lift his skate game.

  Sweat was pouring down Eddie’s face now. ‘A hot wet mess’ is how his mum would describe him at that moment.

  Lucky for Eddie, his mum wasn’t there, or she would be telling him to put on his elbow pads, knee pads, shin guards, shoulder pads, mouthguard and maybe wrap a pillow around his bum. She’d also scold him for making such a racket so early in the morning.

  ‘I really want to but I can’t!’ Eddie replied.

  Though getaways on a skateboard could be cool, he thought.

  Super Sleuths had to be able to flee danger fast. On any mode of transport.

  Like the time Rusty, DT and he were trapped in a cave on a century-old treasure hunt. They escaped by leaping into an old miner’s cart and speeding through hidden tunnels.

  ‘Listen to Rusty!’ called DT. ‘The faster you’re moving, the more momentum you’ll get from your weight and that will help you turn the angle of that corner ahead.’

  Eddie didn’t look convinced.

  ‘Remember what you’re always telling me?’ continued DT. ‘Maths is everywhere! You just have to know where to find it and how to use it!’

  Eddie considered this and mustered all his courage.

  ‘Okay!’ he yelled. ‘I’ll adjust my centre of gravity – it’s safer!’

  He placed his backside on the deck of the board and pushed off with his feet, gripping both sides of the board with white knuckles. He accelerated rapidly and the colour of his face flipped from red to panic-stricken white. The neighbourhood dogs whined and ran back into their yards as Eddie, the human cannonball, exploded down Wembley Road.

  ‘STEER, EDDIE. STEER!’ screamed Rusty, but it was too late.

  Like a moth drawn to a lightbulb, Eddie was a magnet attracted to Mr Cranston’s wheelie bin. The last thing he saw was the spray-painted 351 before he slammed into it and sent the bin’s contents flying.

  ‘You okay?’ shouted Rusty, grabbing Eddie by the shoulders. They’d been in some sticky situations since kindergarten, but this one was up there.

  ‘I think so,’ mumbled Eddie, lifting his head off the ground and inspecting his grazed elbows. ‘How did I do?’

  ‘You were terrible,’ said a voice from behind. It was cranky old Mr Cranston. ‘Look at this mess! I expect it to be cleaned up – immediately.’ He went back to watering his roses.

  ‘I don’t think you were too bad,’ said DT as he and Rusty pulled Eddie to his feet. ‘We just have to work on the whole centre of gravity thing.’

  ‘Yeah,’ laughed Eddie, tossing garbage bags, smelly newspapers and even some ripped old clothes into the bin. ‘But let’s do the centre of gravity standing up next time. Remember, maths is …’

  ‘Everywhere, I know!’ replied DT.

  They finished cleaning up the wheelie bin in silence, covering their noses at particularly stinky bits.

  ‘Hey, Eddie?’ DT said finally.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘If maths is everywhere, then where is breakfast?’ he asked.

  ‘Good question, DT,’ replied Eddie. ‘Let’s find out.’

  2

  NOT HELPING, EDDIE

  ‘Hurry up, Eddie!’ said his dad, juggling his car keys while Eddie shoved the last half-slice of Vegemite toast into his already full mouth. ‘And put that Rubik’s cube away. We need to drop the news-paper to Mr Appleby before school.’

  It was the usual Monday morning ritual for Eddie:

  • Wake up.

  • Eat breakfast and play Rubik’s cube/sudoku/KenKen.

  • Brush teeth and smile!

  • Get in car.

  • Listen to his dad complain about Sydney traffic and speak sarcastically to the drivers around him (with the windows up).

  • Drop off a newspaper to Mr Appleby at Sunny Side Aged Care Home.

  • Go to school.

  Mr Norman Appleby had looked after Eddie’s mum and dad when they’d arrived in Australia from Malaysia in the 1990s. He was a young man back then and one of Australia’s leading nuclear scientists.

  Now, Mr Appleby had Alzheimer’s disease. He often forgot their names and didn’t talk, but he still had a brilliant mind. Put an 81-square sudoku in front of him and he’d have it finished in five minutes – sometimes four.

  ‘OH NO,’ groaned Mr Woo. ‘It’s bumper to bumper! I should have taken the side road!’ He looked helplessly over his shoulder to see if there was an opening in the traffic where he could cut through.

  Then a taxi swerved in front of him.

  ‘Oh, no problem, Mr Taxi Man, take my place in the queue!’ he grumbled.

  Not even the crooning voice of Roy Orbison coming from the Camry’s speakers could cheer Mr Woo up.

  ‘It’s traffic-flow theory, Dad,’ said Eddie. ‘Traffic jams are a result of speed, flow and the build-up of vehicles.’

  Mr Woo looked impatiently from side to side. He wasn’t in the mood to hear about traffic-flow theory.

  ‘Put simply,’ said Eddie, ‘we can predict the flow of traffic based on time of day, human behaviour and how many cars are on the road. To travel 15 kilometres to Sunny Side, we should probably start leaving at 3.00 am on Monday mornings.’

  ‘Not helping, Eddie,’ replied Mr Woo, looking straight ahead.

  Eddie decided to triple-check his History homework until they arrived.

  After the 15-kilometre trip that took one hour (4.17 metres per second, thought Eddie), they finally arrived at Sunny Side Aged Care Home. Mr Woo folded the newspaper neatly under one arm and picked up a shopping bag with a container inside.

  ‘Mum’s soup?’ Eddie asked his dad.

  ‘Mr Appleby’s favourite,’ said Mr Woo.

  As Eddie and his dad walked towards the front glass door and reception area, Eddie’s spidey senses tingled. The smell of breakfast and hot tea that usually came from the home’s kitchen had been replaced with the stench of stale boiling meat.

  ‘Gross,’ said Eddie. ‘What’s that smell?’

  ‘Cabbage?’ said Mr Woo.

  As they neared reception, there was another surprise. Mrs Robertson, who had worked at the Sunny Side reception for as long as Eddie could remember, had been replaced by a giant man in a black jacket that said SECURITY across the pocket. Instead of sitting behind the desk and greeting the visitors with a smile, the large man stood at the entrance with his arms crossed and a scowl that would turn a tiger into a pussycat.

  His silver name badge said ‘Steve.’

  ‘You can’t stay long,’ he grunted at Mr Woo and Eddie. ‘Home’s closing down.’

  Eddie and his dad looked at each other, confused.

  ‘What? Why?’ asked Mr Woo. Eddie peered inside. There were still plenty of people in there. They hadn’t vanished or been abducted by UFOs – yet. But they looked unhappy. Most of them were sitting in the dining room, trying to eat the foul-smelling food. The usual staff weren’t anywhere to be seen. Instead, there were new faces wherever they looked.

  ‘How would I know?’ said Steve, responding to Mr Woo’s question. ‘It’s none of your business anyway. This place will probably be knocked down in the next week or so.’

  ‘Where will the residents go?’ asked Mr Woo.

  ‘Who cares?’ Steve replied.

  Eddie could see Mr Appleby sitting by the window.

  Mr Appleby could see Eddie.

  Eddie smiled at him to say, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll solve this mystery and make sure you’re safe. But we need to talk. Now.’

  Mr Appleby was three steps ahead of Eddie (as usual). He got up, slid past one of the new workers and walked straight into the fully-fenced courtyard. Flicking Eddie the quickest of glances, he threw something over the courtyard fence. It glided up over the sharp and pointy black security fence and sailed towards Mr Woo and Eddie. The paper plane floated at least 30 metres and almost landed under the windscreen wiper of Mr Woo’s Camry. Before Eddie could yell out to Mr Appleby, he blended back into the crowd inside the dining room like a ninja sliding into the shadows of an ancient castle.

  When Eddie picked up the plane, he unfolded its neatly pressed edges and realised that he’d seen this paper before. It was a takeaway lunch menu from Moon Sun’s Korean Restaurant around the corner.

  Immediately, something caught Eddie’s eye. Mr Appleby had circled specific numbers in blue pen and had drawn a cryptic arrow down, across and back up the menu.

  ‘Eddie, you’ve just had breakfast!’ said Mr Woo, seeing his son studying the Korean lunch menu.

  ‘It’s not because I’m hungry,’ Eddie responded, unable to take his eyes off the page.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Mr Woo, looking over Eddie’s shoulder while Eddie took a few more moments analysing every circled number and decimal point.

  ‘A clue,’ he finally answered.

  ‘To what?’ asked Mr Woo.

  ‘Not sure yet, but I think it has something to do with this,’ explained Eddie, pointing to the security guard and the new staff patrolling the inside of the aged care home. ‘Something’s not right.’

  Eddie knew that Mr Appleby was trying to tell him something.

  BUT WHAT?

  3

  BE KIND, BE BRAVE AND BE YOURSELF

  The journey from Sunny Side to Red Hill Public School was much shorter.

  Still, Eddie wasted no time trying to start putting the pieces of Mr Appleby’s puzzle together. The back of the car was littered with Eddie’s notebooks, calculators and pencils. He did his best work in silence, so he asked his dad to turn down the car radio.

  Reluctantly, Mr Woo pressed the volume down button (it was Roy Orbison again – this time singing ‘Pretty Woman’) and soon the only noise was the sound of the tyres rolling over smooth bitumen and the scribble of Eddie’s pencil.

  ‘Here, Eddie,’ said Mr Woo, handing him Mr Appleby’s newspaper. ‘You may as well give this to your teacher. I’ve already read it.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Eddie, taking the newspaper without looking up. He had already started to organise the numbers and letters that Mr Appleby had circled on the menu.

  The decimal points troubled Eddie, particularly the digits that came after.

  Part-numbers moving into the thousandths? he thought to himself. And why the E and S?

  Algebraic equations need an operation symbol, such as +, −, × or ÷ but there were none on the menu. He flipped it over to see if he’d missed anything, but it was blank.

  The other thing Eddie was trying to place was the comma. He’d seen commas used to separate areas of place value within whole numbers, but never one at the beginning of a number.

  Very weird.

  ‘Need a hand?’ said Mr Woo, interrupting Eddie’s thoughts.

  Eddie loved solving a problem by himself, but his Year Six teacher always said: Have a break and come back with a fresh mind … and some fresh breath.

  ‘Sure,’ answered Eddie, taking his notepad off his lap.

  ‘Turn to page five,’ said Mr Woo, pointing at the newspaper. ‘The article there might help.’

  Eddie flicked through to page five, his index finger soon smudged with black ink.

  NURSING HOME RESIDENTS OUT ON THE STREET

  Campbelltown Courier Reporter: BRIANNA SAYED

  Residents at the Sunny Side Aged Care Home have been given a week’s notice to find alternative accommodation before the home closes its doors for good. New owner of the property, Blade Industries, has informed the residents of their plans to demolish the building and access coal seam gas reservoirs underneath the surface of the block.

  ‘This will provide an alternative power supply for the residents of Western Sydney,’ said a spokesperson for Blade Industries.

  Many of the residents at Sunny Side are either too unwell or are unable to speak with the media about the announcement, however, families of the residents have said that a week’s notice is outrageous.

  CEO of Blade Industries, Wayne Blade was contacted for comment but declined an interview.

  ‘No way!’ exclaimed Eddie, sitting bolt upright as they approached the school entrance. ‘We need to do something about this, and fast!’

  ‘I agree,’ said Mr Woo. ‘Mr Appleby must have some information that he needs you to find. No pressure, Eddie, but he obviously trusts you to do some investigating and help save Sunny Side. It’s time to get your Super Sleuth brain into gear.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad, I’m on it!’ said Eddie, stuffing his pencil case and notebooks into his school bag. ‘I need to show this to DT and Rusty ASAP!’

  ‘Be kind, be brave and be yourself,’ said Mr Woo. It was always the last thing he said to Eddie as he left for school. But Eddie was already out the door. He’d spotted DT and Rusty waiting for him at the gate.

  ‘’Sup, Eddie?’ said Rusty. She could tell by the look on Eddie’s face that he had some news to share.

  ‘Yeah, Eddie, why so twitchy?’ said DT.

  ‘THIS!’ said Eddie, laying the newspaper out flat on the ground and opening it at page five.

  ‘Wow! Kmart is selling Creator Lego sets at 25 per cent off?’ asked DT.

 

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