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 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

“Well, he’s inside for dinner,” she glowered. Tyra balled her hand into a fist and took a swipe at Albertus’s face. Unfortunately she made contact.

“Well, what the heck?” Albertus stammered, trying to stifle his bloody nose.

Tyra fumed as she yelled, “My father is not a creep!” She fell silent as footsteps were heard outside … ¹⁴

The quick–tempered Tyra softened as she saw Albertus grimacing in pain.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that my father is often misunderstood,” Tyra said. “Who are you, anyway?”

“My name is Albertus, and your dad shrunk me to the size of a rat and left me hanging there!”

“Did he use Formula Fourteen on you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, “He did.”

Albertus barely got his words out when the door swung open.

Professor Klienholtz walked in, followed by Mr. Yakadoodle. They stared at Albertus for a moment and then blurted out together, “It didn’t work!”

Mr. Yakadoodle screamed, "How could we be so foolish?"

“And to use it on one of our best students!” Professor Klienholtz said. “You know I didn’t enjoy that.”

“I know, but we were in it for the money,” Mr. Yakadoodle said.

“You know what I think of the money,” Klienholtz said. “I think of it as a bunch of—” He was interrupted by a CLINK!

“What was that? Who’s there?” Mr. Yakadoodle yelled. “Who’s there?”

A glimmering object hit Mr. Yakadoodle in the head and knocked him out.

Professor Klienholtz stared down the length of the hallway to find out whatever it was that hit Mr. Yakadoodle. Then another glimmering object came hurling toward him. He was out cold too.

Albertus took Tyra by the hand and ran.

Mr. Yakadoodle woke up with Professor Klienholtz leaning over him.

“Where is that little rat?” he yelled. ¹⁵

Tyra and Albertus safely made it out of the lab and into the garden. They hid behind the old shed.

“What was that?” Tyra asked.

“I don’t know, but let’s see if someone comes out,” Albertus replied.

Just then a pale man dressed in all black came out of the strange door and started walking toward them.

“I hope he didn’t see us.” Tyra whispered.

But then—

“Ah!” yelled the man as he saw Tyra and Albertus. “Of course I saw you go this way.”

“Who are you and what is that you threw at Professor Klienholtz and Mr. Yakadoodle?” Albertus asked.

“I’m pleased to introduce myself, I’m Dr. Notan. Oh, that was just a gadget I invented to make people fall asleep on contact. You see, all three of us used to be best friends. We made the formula together. Then they stole the formula and went to make money off of it. They said something about testing it on one of their best students. Too bad for that kid,” he said.

“What?” Tyra asked, still confused.

“Listen kids, that Formula Fourteen is mine. If I don’t get it back, the whole world might shrink! Do you know where it is?” ¹⁶

Albertus shot a desperate glance at Tyra, only to see that she was watching the door with an even expression.

She looked at the man and said in a calm and quiet voice, “We do not know where this Formula Fourteen is … but I saw a woman carrying it outside,” Tyra lied casually.

Dr. Notan stared at her and Albertus in a way that felt as if his eyes pierced through their brains.

“What did she look like?” he growled.

“Black hair and about 50,” Albertus chimed in. The old man grumbled under his breath and stalked off into the protruding darkness. Tyra grabbed Albertus’s hand and dashed back through the door, up the staircase, and onto a metal fire escape.

“Wh—?” Albertus tried to stammer, but he was breathing so hard that he couldn’t get the words past his teeth. Tyra opened a window and pushed Albertus through the metal frame.

She sprinted ahead through a hall to peek through a glass door, then motioned Albertus to come forward. He hesitantly stepped toward her, and she punched a few buttons in a code box. The glass doors slid open to reveal a huge laboratory lit by fluorescent lights.

“I saw them bring in a bottle,” she explained.

The two searched around for what seemed like hours, then Tyra said, “Umm … let’s check the other lab.”

As soon as they were in the next lab, Albertus spotted the indigo liquid.

“Be careful,” he warned. “We don’t want to shrink.”

Tyra hid her face. She hated to think about how her father had actually used Formula Fourteen on a person.

“WHO'S IN THERE?” a booming voice called.

The two kids stared at the door. ¹⁷

The loud voice said again, “WHO'S IN HERE!” The kids found a spot to hide and shut their eyes. The next thing they heard was a loud crash.

“I know you’re in here,” boomed the voice again.

Albertus looked at Tyra. She was crying. ¹⁸

Albertus was so scared he had beads of sweat rolling down his face. As the handle turned, Albertus felt as if he were made of stone, he stood so still, petrified. Tyra tried to snap him out of it, but he wouldn’t move.

The door would open any second. Since Albertus wouldn’t move, neither did Tyra. The door opened and Albertus couldn’t believe his eyes. ¹⁹

There was nothing. Albertus squinted at the bright white laboratory wall in shock.

“WHAT in the world … ? HOW? I don’t understand …” Albertus said.

“Albertus, just look,” said Tyra. She pointed to Albertus’s muddy sneaker.

Three teeny tiny men stood on Albertus’s shoe. They clasped hands and grabbed onto his laces.

Albertus sighed, “Dr. Notan? Mr. Yakadoodle? …”

“Dad!” Tyra finished.

The little man, who looked liked an albino rat dressed in a suit, held a bitty microphone up to his face and answered, “Yes, Albertus, it’s us.”

Albertus kicked his foot, but the troublesome trio held on tight.

“Albertus, don’t hurt them … let’s hear what they have to say,” said Tyra.

He met Tyra’s worried eyes and winked.

Albertus bent down and picked up Professor Klienholtz by the back of his lab coat. The professor kicked his little legs in the air.

“OW-BER-TUS, WE NEED YOUR HEWP!” Klienholtz squeaked. ²⁰

Albertus set Professor Klienholtz on a bench, then carefully sat down on a stool. He peeled the other two men off his shoe and set them down beside the professor. The men were very grateful.

“That may look like mud on your shoe,” said Mr. Yakadoodle. “But it is not,” added Dr. Notan, waving his hand in front of his face.

Tyra was very upset. “What happened, Daddy? First you shrink Albertus, now you’re the size of a rodent.”

“I will explain, my dear,” said Professor Klienholtz. “I did spray Albertus with Formula Fourteen, the shrinking liquid that Dr. Notan and I developed, and then I put him in a cage. But it was only to keep him safe. You see, Mr. Yakadoodle has paid Dr. Notan and me a great deal of money over the years to develop Formula Fourteen, and he was eager to see if it would work.”

“But Daddy,” Tyra asked, “why would someone want a formula like that?”

Mr. Yakadoodle stepped forward and bowed. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Sentasini Yakadoodle.” He took a card from his pocket and presented it to Tyra. The card was the size of a piece of confetti and impossible to read.

“Mr. Yakadoodle is the president of Global Titan Airlines,” Dr. Notan explained. “He hired your father and me to develop Formula Fourteen so that his airline could carry 2,000 people in one plane and still provide plenty of legroom.”

Mr. Yakadoodle added, “Any airline that could do that could make a fortune, even with oil at $200 a barrel.”

“But who would want to be tiny forever, just to get a comfortable seat on an airplane?” asked Albertus.

“Lots of people, I’m sure,” said Professor Klienholtz, “but it doesn’t matter, because Formula Fourteen doesn’t last forever. When I woke up from getting hit with Dr. Notan’s disk, I decided to spray us all so we could experience being small together. But as you can see, we are already getting large.”

It was true. The three men were now almost a foot tall.

“And look at yourself,” Dr. Notan pointed out, “back to your original size.”

“That’s because I ate something,” Albertus told the men.

Dr. Klienholtz laughed. “Purely a coincidence, Albertus. You would have become larger, anyway. That’s actually one of the things Dr. Notan and I have to work on—to control the strength of Formula Fourteen so people don’t get big again before their flight has landed. And to make sure they don’t get small again after they’re back to normal size.”

“That would be a disaster, indeed,” said Mr. Yakadoodle.

Albertus was puzzled and he stared out the window at the garden where he had sprayed the pumpkin earlier that day. He remembered that the pumpkin had not simply grown smaller, but had become a seed and that Professor Klienholtz had dropped the seed back in the soil. He also remembered the pumpkin shard that remained—the one he ate while in the mouse cage.

“Professor,” Albertus asked, “why did Formula Fourteen work the way it did on the pumpkin?”

“Oh goodness my boy, that wasn’t Formula Fourteen, that was Formula 17.”

“What’s Formula 17?” Tyra asked.

“Formula 17 reverses the growth process. An organism treated with Formula 17 becomes younger and younger and younger. A pumpkin becomes a seed. An adult would become a baby.”

“You haven’t found a way to stop it yet?” Dr. Notan.

“I’m working on it,” answered Professor Klienholtz. “It’s very powerful stuff. You didn’t happen to touch that, did you?”

Albertus didn’t say anything. He just stood there, wondering why his clothes felt so loose. ²¹