Welcome to the Weekly Writer! Chris Van Allsburg has started a brand–new story. He is the author and illustrator of several popular books, including Jumanji, The Polar Express, and Zathura, and many others. Read his opening and then continue the story. Submit your work here. Then follow the story week by week as students across the nation add to the story.Read Weekly Reader's interview with Chris Van Allsburg here.

Small drops of the indigo liquid settled onto the pumpkin.

“Again,” Professor Klienholtz directed his young assistant. Albertus pumped the garden sprayer once more. The pumpkin continued to shrink until it turned into a small bud at the end of the rope–like vine. The leaves began to curl up and then withdraw into the vine.
Albertus looked up at the professor, who nodded. The boy sprayed the plant again. Now the naked vine became narrower and smoother.

It began to shorten and turn a pale green. Finally, there was no more than a finger’s length visible. One more spray and the vine disappeared, shrinking back into the hole from which it had grown.

The professor knelt beside Albertus and carefully pulled on a rubber glove. He pushed his hand into the soil, extracting all that remained of the pumpkin.

He gazed at the seed held between his fingers and turned to Albertus. “Well, my boy, it clearly works on plant life.”¹

Quickly, the student nodded. “But … Professor!” he said shrilly. “What is all of this about?” The young boy seemed slightly scared, but his eyes shined excitedly.

“Do not worry, young one,” the professor said, with a gentle smile. “Everything will prove itself soon enough.”

With that, the professor turned to walk off. Albertus did not go to run after the professor, but instead turned back to where the plant used to be.

“Poor plant … what IS this stuff?" he wondered aloud.

He picked up a shard of the pumpkin that his teacher had missed. “There’s something fishy going on …” Just then, “ALBERTUS!” came from where the professor had gone.

Fear grasping his heart, the boy slid the pumpkin shard into his pocket. ”Coming, Professor!” ²

The boy ran fast. He knew the professor must mean him no harm. But why was today’s lesson so … different? And what was that spray? he asked himself. Albertus had never seen anything like it.

The professor was standing in front of the door that had said DO NOT ENTER in big red letters. The sign had now been removed and the door looked slightly different. The door had a gold knob that was once a rusty, gray–looking color. The door was still wooden, though.

The professor had his head cocked to one side as he looked at the door. He too seemed to be wondering why the door looked different. The professor opened the door and motioned for Albertus to follow.

Boldly, Albertus followed, although his gut instinct told him not to. Albertus trusted Professor Klienholtz with his life. He wasn’t going to harm him. He couldn’t, would he? He did harm that plant, Albertus thought.

No, he wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t, Albertus tried to persuade himself. But there was something fishy. Albertus could feel it.³

“Albertus, this is Mr. Yakadoodle, a good friend of mine and a generous investor,” said Professor Klienholtz while gesturing to his right.

Just then, a light flickered on, and a man in a black overcoat appeared out of the darkness.

“Albertus.” Mr. Yakadoodle extended a broad hand.

“How do you do?” Albertus shook the rough, calloused hand. Fear crawled up his spine when he noticed the room where they were standing.

Bubbling liquids in glass cylinders were spread throughout the small room.

“Formula Fourteen?” the low, gruff voice of Mr. Yakadoodle asked.

Professor Klienholtz smiled a ghastly smile, displaying a row of yellow teeth. He and Mr. Yakadoodle started to smirk as the light flickered out. ⁴

In the darkness the professor said, “Watch this.”

Albertus felt a wet spray on his face. He tried to wipe it off, but his face felt dry. Whatever it was, it had been absorbed the second it touched his skin.

“Sorry,” Professor Klienholtz whispered to Albertus. “I didn’t want to have to do this to you, but we needed the money.”

Now a tingling spread all over Albertus’ body. He felt as if he were being squeezed and pinched and squished into a little ball. His eyes burned, and he was gasping for air. The pain was too great, he was sure this was his last breath. And then it all stopped. The lights flicked on and to his horror, Albertus found that he was … tiny!

“Excellent,” boomed the voice of Mr. Yakadoodle. "Exactly as you promised." He rubbed his hands together and chuckled as he repeated, “Exactly as you promised.” ⁵

In a tiny, squeaky voice Albertus screamed, and it sounded as if he were saying, “Professor Kine–hote and Misser Yanky Doodle? Why did you try Formula Fourteen on ME?”

No one answered, so Albertus screamed again, “Hewo! Hewo! Oh, pickle sauce! I always end up in such conundrums. Maybe I should have been a dental assistant. Humph!" ⁶

“Whyyyy!” Albertus screamed again.

“Sorry, but like I said, we needed the money,” Professor Klienholtz said. How am I going to go out there like this? Albertus thought.

“But, on the bright side, we have a solution to all of your problems,” the professor said.

Uh–oh, Albertus thought. What are they going to do to me now? ⁷

Professor Kleinholtz turned around, opened a closet, and rummaged around till he found a plastic cage.

“Oh, no you don’t,” said Albertus, as he bolted for the crack under the door. Mr. Yakadoodle was quicker, though, putting his foot in Albertus’s path.

In one smooth motion, Mr. Yakadoodle picked Albertus up and dropped him in the cage.

Albertus landed in a pile of wood shavings with a thud. He breathed in the strong smell of cedar and chemicals. Albertus noticed a hamster wheel behind him and a bottle hanging on one side of the cage.

“Feisty little fella, ain’t he,” said Mr. Yakadoodle, in a booming voice.

“Yeah, but that lab rat cage will hold him for now,” said Professor Kleinholtz. ⁸

Albertus glared through the cage at them, furious at what they had done. He wanted to yell many things at the two men, but held his tongue. It would be no use. They couldn’t hear him anyway. For now, he thought, I need to find a way out.

As he started toward the hamster wheel, lost in thought, the lights were switched off. Mr. Yakadoodle and Professor Kleinholtz left the room chatting happily to each other at the success of Formula Fourteen.

“You just wait,” vowed Albertus, beginning to scoop wood chips to one end of the wheel. Enough of the wood shavings would stop the wheel from moving and he might be able to climb it to reach the top of the cage. Albertus knew this because he had once had a pet mouse that had a wheel.

“I miss home,” he realized, suddenly feeling utter loneliness and loss welling up in his eyes. Swiftly, he wiped the tears from his face and continued to work. At his normal size, one sweep of his hand would have moved all the chips he needed to the wheel. Now, at this puny size, moving these chips was like moving firewood.

“Fwooh,” he sighed in relief. He wiped sweat drops off his forehead and began to climb up the wheel, slowly and stealthily. Directly above was the lid that Mr. Yakadoodle had opened to put Albertus in the cage. Albertus reached the top of the wheel. He stretched his arms up and pushed with all his might. ⁹

Albertus pushed and pushed with the little energy that he had. He felt hopeless as he tried to move the lid. After a half hour, which felt like an eternity to Albertus, he gave up. Albertus climbed down the wheel slowly and plopped himself into the wood shavings in utter defeat.

“What's the use?” said Albertus, panting heavily. “I’m never going to get out of here.”

Slowly turning his head, he looked at the digital clock on the professor’s desk, and it read 8:30 a.m. Then he suddenly remembered that he was awfully hungry. He rummaged in his pocket to see if he could find anything to eat, and his fingers fell upon the pumpkin shard.

“It’s better than nothing,” mumbled Albertus, still breathless.

He pulled it out of his pocket and slowly lifted it to his mouth. As it touched his lips, it
disappeared. ¹⁰

Albertus felt like either he was growing bigger or the cage was getting smaller. Then, the cage burst open, thrusting Albertus onto the ground. He slowly got up and ran to the door. ¹¹

Albertus braced himself to open the door and hit the ground running. Closing his eyes, he didn’t see the door open. On the other side stood a girl, who stared wide-eyed at Albertus as he crashed into the wall. “Ow.”

The girl ran to him and dropped down beside him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, as she helped him sit up.

Albertus nodded. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m Tyra, Professor Klienholtz’s daughter,” she said with a gentle smile. ¹²

Albertus was struck by her astonishing beauty. But his thoughts didn’t linger there, as he gasped, remembering what Professor Kleinholtz had done to him. He was then overcome with a need for vengeance and anger. He looked at the door and it was back to its normal old form, with the whole DO NOT ENTER sign and all.

He looked down at his body: he was back to his normal height. Tyra stared at him in confusion, as if he were from a different planet. She waited patiently for him to introduce himself, but he didn’t.

“Y–you’re that creep’s daughter?” Albertus asked in disgust.

“Excuse me? That so–called creep you speak of happens to be my father,” she replied.

“Formula Fourteen,” he muttered to himself.

“Formula Fourteen?” Tyra asked.

His mind went back to the mysterious disappearance of the pumpkin. “Gone, but where?” he mumbled. “How?” Questions flooded his mind.

“You’re not making sense!” Tyra said in frustration.

“Where is he? Where is your father?” ¹³