Justine McKeen, Queen of Green (2 page)
“Always,” Justine said. “Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. That's me. Did you know a faucet that leaks a drop of water every ten seconds loses nearly forty gallons of water a month? If it's a hot-water faucet, it's even worse because of the energy it takes to heat the water. And lights. Don't get me started on turning lights off. Everywhere. All the time. Andâ”
“Who are you?” Blatzo said. He squashed her sandwich with his fist. “The Queen of Green?”
“I like that,” she said. “Justine McKeen, Queen of Green. Wow. Thank you. And I also like what you did with my sandwich. You turned it into pita bread. Thanks.” She stuck out her hand again to say goodbye. “It was nice to meet you, Blatzo. I hope you're not late for class.”
“You don't understand,” he said. “You made me look bad. I'm not letting you get away with this. And don't call me by my last name!”
Jimmy Blatzo saw Justine's brownies in a ziplock bag on the table. He grabbed the squares. “This is your punishment.”
He pulled out a brownie and crammed it into his mouth.
“May I have the bag back?” Justine asked. “Reduce. Reuse. Recycle.”
“Not a chance,” he said, chewing. He marched out of the cafeteria.
“That's too bad,” Justine told Michael and Safdar.
“What?” Safdar asked. “That you made enemies with the biggest bully in the school?”
“Or that he drank your juice, smashed your sandwiches and took your dessert?” said Michael.
“No,” said Justine, “he took the ziplock bag. I was hoping to use it for the whole school year. Plus, those brownies were part of my science project.”
After lunch, Mrs. Howie waited for her students to be seated.
“It's time for a science presentation,” Mrs. Howie said. She ran her finger down the list of names on her desk. “Justine, today is your turn. Do you have something to present to the class?”
“Yes!” Justine said.
“Good,” Mrs. Howie said. “Come up to the front, and remember, introducing yourself is part of a good presentation.”
Justine walked to the back of the classroom and grabbed the posters she had made. She marched to the front and turned to face everyone.
“Hello,” she said. “My name is Justine McKeen. But I won't mind if you call me Justine McKeen, Queen of Green. Somebody gave me that name in the cafeteria today, and I like it. It is very important to be green, and my science project today is about how we can help the environment. I want to start by showing you a poster of a cow from Argentina.”
Justine held up her first poster. It was of a black and white cow with a huge pink tank strapped to its back. The tank was tube-shaped. It stretched from the cow's head to its tail.
“This tank is made from the same kind of plastic as a beach ball,” Justine said. “And the tank is filled with something lighter than air. It is filled with a gas called methane. The tank collects methane from the cow's body.”
Safdar put up his hand. “Yes, Safdar,” Mrs. Howie said.
“Miss Queen of Green,” Safdar said. “I thought cows made milk. Not methane.”
“I don't want to be rude,” Justine said, “but I will explain a different way. The tank collects the gas from the cow's F-A-R-Ts.”
“Cow F-A-R-Ts!” Safdar said. “Cool! I vote that this is the best science project ever!”
Michael put up his hand.
Mrs. Howie had a tired look on her face. She sounded tired when she spoke too. “Yes, Michael.”
Michael stood. “Miss Queen of Green, how does the tank collect the cow F-A-R-Ts?”
“Please call it methane,” Justine said. “We should use the scientific word.”
“Cool!” Michael said. “Cow F-A-R-Ts. Do you have a photo of the cow's hind end? Is there a tube in the cow's butt to collect the F-A-R-Ts?”
Everyone laughed.
Mrs. Howie stepped forward. “Class!”
Nobody was listening. They were laughing too hard.
“Class!” Mrs. Howie shouted. “Please, let Justine continue!”
“Thank you,” Justine said. “It is important for scientists to know how much methane a cow produces. Methane contributes to global warming. Argentina has fifty-five million cows. One cow produces one thousand quarts of methane a day. That is a lot of methane. Since farmers care about the environment, they want to know if there is a way to feed cows so the cows produce less gas.”
Michael put up his hand again.
“No,” Mrs. Howie said, “we don't have time for another question about cow gas.”
“Rats,” Michael said.
Justine held up a poster of a hamburger. “I'm glad farmers raise cows, because I love to eat these.” She pointed at the poster. “But it would be cool if farmers raised crickets too. Insects are good protein. Farmers could have cow ranches and cricket ranches. Fewer cow ranches means less methane in the air.”
“I LOVE this project!” Michael said. “Cow F-A-R-Ts and bug eating!”
Mrs. Howie coughed. “No more interruptions, please, class.”
Justine held up a poster of a cricket. “In Japan, many people eat this insect. I added crickets into melted chocolate to make brownies. I was going to share them with the class. The bad news is someone ate that part of my project in the cafeteria today. The good news is he seemed to like it.”
“Hey, Justine, Queen of Green,” Safdar said as he and Michael sat down for lunch the next day. “There's something you should know about Ice-Cream Heaven.”
“Yum,” Michael said. “Any ice cream is heaven to me.”
“Seriously,” Safdar said. “Yesterday, I saw the owner throwing all his recyclables into a Dumpster.”
“What!” Justine stood. “I've been to Ice-Cream Heaven with my grammy. There are different recycle bins out front. If he didn't recycle, Grammy and I wouldn't go there.”
“I know,” Safdar said. “But I saw him emptying the bins in the regular garbage out back. I asked him why, and he said it was too much work to recycle. He said he only has recycle bins in front of his shop to make him look good.”
“
Arrgg
,” Justine said.
“Is
arrgg
a word?” Michael asked. He poked at the food on his cafeteria tray. “If so, I think that's what we were served today.”
“I told the owner that what he was doing was wrong,” Safdar said. “You know what he said?”
“What?” Justine asked.
“Next time he'll make sure to do his garbage dumping at night, when smarty pants like me can't see him. Maybe we should start a petition for all the kids in school to sign against Ice-Cream Heaven. Then make signs and march back and forth in his parking lot. That would serve him right for not being green.”
“
Arrgg
,” Justine said again. She looked at Michael. “If I want
arrgg
to be a word, it's a word. After all, I am the queen.”
“You just got the name yesterday,” Michael said. “And you are only the Queen of Green. Not the whole Earth.”
“If you care about the Earth, then you care about green,” she said. “And if you care about green, then you care about the Earth. So if I'm the Queen of Green, then maybe I am the Queen ofâ”
“Oh no,” Safdar said. “Watch out. Here's comes Jimmy Blatzo.”
“Remember,” Michael said to Justine, “don't call him Fatso Blatzo.”
Jimmy Blatzo walked up and stood in front of them.
“Hey, Queen of Green,” he said. “I want to talk to you about those brownies I ate yesterday. They were really good but different.”
“It was probably the crickets I mixed in with the chocolate,” Justine said.
“Crickets?” Blatzo said. His eyebrows furrowed. He was angry again.
“Yes, crickets. I believe we should all eat insects. It will help the environment. My grammy and I made more cricket brownies last night. After you ate my first batch, I didn't have any to share with my class.”
“
Arrgg
,” Michael said.
“Nice try,” Blatzo told Justine.
“I'm glad you appreciate my brownies,” she said. “Lots of people think I'm weird for making cricket brownies.”
“
Arrgg
,” Michael said again.
“I mean nice try to stop me from taking more of them,” Blatzo said. “Crickets. Right! As if I would believe that. You can't fool me.”
He grabbed her backpack and opened it. When he found the ziplock bag of brownies, he yanked it out and opened it. He stuffed a brownie in his mouth.
“Make sure you bring me more brownies tomorrow,” he said as he chewed. “Or else.”
“Sure,” Justine said. “But can you give me back the bag so I can use it again?”
“Hello, Mr. Tait,” Justine said. She was at the front of the line at Ice-Cream Heaven. “My name is Justine McKeen. Some people call me the Queen of Green.”
“That's nice,” Mr. Tait said in the way adults sometimes speak so kids will stop pestering them. He was a short man with a round head. He wore an apron with a name tag. “What would you like to order?”