Help Solve The Mystery of Isabelle

Help Solve The Mystery of Isabelle


“Hans from 5A killed Isabelle,” Nina sadly proclaimed from the backseat this morning. We were on our way to preschool. She is in 5B at school and apparently 5A is filled with.. well, killers. That might be harsh, but we are in mourning. You will have to allow some emotion here.

“Umm, what do you think of this weather?” I ask.

Don’t you raise an eyebrow at that. Murder is a pretty big charge and I needed to mull this over. Also the sun is out and let’s appreciate the small things.

Than it dawns on me. Isabelle is a worm. It’s not a kid/person.

She tried to pull  this on me last week. She gave a long story about seeing Isabelle and being so happy. I asked if Isabelle had just started there at the school. She informed me that I was a crazy nut (not so much in words as in facial expressions-trust me, I can pick up on the subtleties.)

You see, Isabelle was the worm she had as a pet at Nana and Papa’s. Isabelle had heroically traveled the roughly 25 miles (I have no concept of mileage, space or time so let’s not take that estimate as fact) to get to Nina’s school. All to see her. I imagine it would have been some sort of ride hitching with a bird ala Finding Nemo. I didn’t ask though because I suspected that was not the part of the story I was supposed to be focusing on.

Basically Isabelle does all this “legwork” and Hans comes along and destroys the bond between a girl and her worm(s). Hans isn’t his real name because I don’t want this to follow him throughout life. We have to be the bigger person here. He probably did not mean malice. He probably hasn’t ever had a loyal worm and wasn’t aware of that amazing feeling of finding them everywhere you go. Seeing them grow and then shrink depending on where you see them. Seem them dried out on the sidewalk one minute and wriggling in the dirt the next day.

Truth be told I am not well experienced in this bond either.

Also another drop of truth- I didn’t need help with the Isabelle mystery per se.

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