Free Brendan Buckley's Sixth-Grade Experiment by Sundee T. Frazier

spoke finally. “Let’s just go get it. The kids need it for their project.”
    Yes
! I could always count on Mom to support my scientific pursuits. I said goodbye to Morgan, who frowned a little but got excited again when she saw a girl standingat the rock club table. “Bye! I’ll see you at the Tae Kwon Do demonstration if I can get away.”
    You don’t have to
, I thought, but I just waved, then hurried after Mom. Dad followed last. Outside the building, I turned right. “I think the cows are this way.”
    â€œYes, they are,” Gladys said. “Next to Lulu’s Dairy Barn. From cow to cone. Can’t get any fresher than that!” She hoisted her straw purse over her shoulder. Already, the freebies bag was bulging with stuff.
    I led the way to the red buildings in the distance. The cattle pens have never been my favorite place to visit at the fair. First of all, they stink. Second of all, they stink. No offense to anyone who raises cows or sees them as sacred or collects cows and cow-related paraphernalia, but they
stink
.
    So I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the task ahead, but then, after reading up on cow dung’s hidden potential, I had to admit I had a new respect for the animal.
    We approached the Pig Palace, a small covered area adjacent to the cow barns. A person in a big pink pig costume stood in front, waving. “There he is!” Gladys hollered. “My hunka hunka piece of pork!” The rest of us looked at each other like,
Do you know this lady?
    â€œKate, come take my picture.” Gladys always makes sure to get a picture with the Puyallup Pig. “After that, we can watch Big Mama feed all her little pig babies. Unlike Brendan, I won’t be needing any freebies from the cattle pens.”
    Gladys handed Mom her camera and hurried to stand next to Porky. Dad followed Grandpa Ed and me into the thick stench. I coughed a couple of times. Maybe I
was
crazy to want to do an experiment with this stuff. No, it was only a small amount. I could handle it.
    The barn was crammed full of cows—brown, black, white with black splotches, babies, mamas, and bulls. They stood in their gated pens on either side of a hard-packed dirt aisle. Hanging overhead were those red, white, and blue semicircular banners like you might see on a big old house in the South.
    A bull with pointy horns eyed me suspiciously. He stamped his hooves and blew nasty breath from his nose. His tail twitched back and forth. I wouldn’t be getting anywhere near
that
rear end. People were leading cows out of their stalls already. We’d have to work quickly.
    I looked into the nearest pen.
Dang
. All the manure was coated in sawdust. That would affect the results of our experiment for sure. Although wood
was
biomass … maybe we could factor that in somehow. Or maybe I really
should
try to get the droppings straight from the source, as Gladys had suggested.
    The air filled with the sound of tiny squeals. Cows mooed and moved about nervously. Something squawked. I looked around. Where was all that noise coming from?
    A stampede! At least a dozen small pigs rushed toward us down the center aisle. Behind the piglets rana teenager, clutching a bag. A bulging, multicolored straw bag.
    Gladys appeared in the barn, huffing and puffing. “Stop that hoodlum!” She shook her fist in the air. “Thief! Thief!”
    I stepped into the boy’s path with my arms extended. He shoved me out of the way, turned at the end of the row of stalls, and headed into the next barn.
    I regained my balance, dropped my bag, and ran.
    The boy exited the barn, headed toward the Slush Factory (“Twenty-eight flavors to mix!”) and Dumbo’s Jumbos Elephant Ears.
    I turned on my turbojets and sprinted even faster. I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of someone running behind me. Dad.
    Suddenly, both my feet were up in the air. I hung suspended for what seemed like