It sounded simple once I checked the definition in the dictionary. Take a word. Use all the same letters to make another word, and that’s an anagram. Like slow and owls, or teach and cheat. Some words had a bunch of anagrams. React, trace, crate, and cater were all anagrams of each other. And it could be done with more than one word. New York could be anagrammed into worn key.

But how, I wondered as I walked out of the library, was I supposed to put an anagram in the bag? I stared at the bag, trying to figure out how it worked.

“What in the world are you doing?”

I looked up when I heard Benedict’s voice and jammed the bag into my pocket.

“I just have an errand to ruin,” I said. “I’ll ketchup with you later. I mean, I’ll sketch up with shoe later. No, I’ll scratch pup with who. I mean—oh, fur jet about it.” The more I talked, the worse it seemed to get.

Benedict groaned and shook his head. “You won’t get rid of me just by making stinky jokes. If I can survive my Uncle Horace, I can handle anything. Besides, I know what’s going on.”

“You do?” I felt a flash of guilt, like when Mom caught me trying to hide the vase I broke.

Benedict nodded. “You’re looking for words again, right?”

“Anagrams,” I admitted, feeling relieved that he didn’t know more than that. I explained what they were.

“What do you need them for?”

“Same project.” I started to walk down the street.

“Look, I’m in school with you all day. I’ve never heard of any project like this.” He stepped in front of me.

“Not for school.”I said,stepping around him. It was rough trying to keep all my answers short.

“Want help?” he asked, stepping back in front of me. “I was going to work on my report, but this would be more fun.”

“No, thanks,” I said. It would have been great, but the professor had warned me not to get any more help.

“Some friend you are,” Benedict said. He turned away and stomped up the library steps.

“Wait!” I called.

He just kept walking.

Great. Now he was mad at me. But there was nothing I could do about it right now. I had to find seven anagrams. I started thinking up all the short words I could and seeing if they had any anagrams. Place? No anagrams I could find. Table? There was bleat. That’s what they call the sound a lamb or a kid makes. I knew that because my grampa had a farm with sheep and goats. But I didn’t think there was any such thing as a table bleat or a bleat table. I kept thinking. Scale laces, west stew, lemon melon, rat art.