The Potato Chip Puzzles: The Puzzling World of Winston Breen by Eric Berlin Page A

computer.”
    “Cool,” said Mal.
    Mr. Garvey said, “That’s right nearby. I wish it would tell us where the other puzzles will be. I’d love to skip ahead and have a puzzle entirely to ourselves.”
    Jake pushed buttons. “When you click the button for the second puzzle, it says you can’t have it yet. Same for the others. You have to solve them in order, just like Dmitri Simon said.”
    Their teacher shrugged. “All right, then. Tune up those brains, gentlemen. We are on our way.” He put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot.
    Immediately there was a strange popping noise. Winston looked around but couldn’t tell where it had come from. Mr. Garvey shifted gears and drove forward, and everyone became aware that something was wrong. The car was making a strange, struggling sound, and felt slightly lopsided. The teacher turned out of the parking lot, perhaps hoping the car would miraculously heal itself. But the sound didn’t go away, and he decided he couldn’t ignore it. He pulled over by the side of the road, just ten yards from the potato chip factory.
    As other teams drove past them, leaving them behind, Mr. Garvey got out of the car. Muttering, he walked around inspecting it, and then stopped as he saw something he didn’t like. Winston saw a look of unleashed horror on the math teacher’s face. Jake opened the door and peered out, to see what Mr. Garvey was looking at.
    “You’re not going to believe this,” Jake said. “We have a flat tire.”

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    THE BOYS GOT OUT of the car. Yes, it was true. The right rear tire looked like it had been in a fight and had lost. Mr. Garvey stared at it, more shocked than angry. He seemed unable to process the idea that this was happening, that things could go this wrong.
    And then he processed it after all: He gave a great, unholy yell and kicked the dead tire as hard as he could. Winston took a step backward.
    “Do we have a spare?” Jake asked.
    Mr. Garvey stopped kicking and looked around, as if surprised to see the kids standing there. He nodded, a bit wild-eyed. “A spare,” he said, like he didn’t know the word. “A spare.” Maybe he thought Jake was referring to bowling. Then he regained his senses and said, “Yes, of course I do.” He opened the car’s large rear door and began removing the supplies he had placed there. “This is going to take a few minutes,” Mr. Garvey said. “This is terrible, just terrible.”
    “Can we help?” Winston said.
    Mr. Garvey waved his hand as if the question itself was too much interference. “I know how to change a tire. Just stand back. I need fifteen minutes, that’s all I need.”
    They watched him get set up for a minute or two, feeling useless. Then Jake elbowed Winston. “I want to go back to the parking lot for a minute. Come on.” So the three boys walked back to the potato chip factory.
    The visitors’ parking lot had only a couple of cars left in it—all the puzzlers were long gone.
    Mal looked behind him at Mr. Garvey, on his knees, removing the lug nuts. He said, “If he finishes that tire and we’re not there ready to go, he is going to have a heart attack.”
    Jake said, “I know, but I want to see something. Where were we parked? Here, right?”
    They looked around. “Seems right,” Winston said. “Maybe one space over.”
    “Yeah. Look.” Jake nudged some green shards of glass with the toe of his sneaker.
    “Whoa,” said Mal. “Broken glass in a parking lot! I’ve never seen that before!”
    Jake gave him a withering look. “Do you see glass anywhere else? Look around.” They glanced up and down the gray asphalt. Winston couldn’t see any broken glass anywhere except where they were standing.
    “So that’s what gave us the flat tire,” Winston said.
    Jake nodded. “I think someone did it to us on purpose.”
    Winston blinked. “What?”
    “Did you hear that popping sound right as we started moving?”
    Winston thought about it. “Yeah.