Benny on the Case (Paula Wiseman Book)

Benny on the Case (Paula Wiseman Book)

Two starred reviews! A New York Public Library Best Kids Book of 2025 A School Library Journal Best Middle Grade Book of 2025 A boy with Mosaic Down syndrome navigates entering a mainstream classroom, making new friends, and standing up to bullies all while trying to catch a thief and save his home in this “suspenseful, emotional” ( Publishers Weekly , starred review) middle grade mystery from New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Wesley King. Benny isn’t your average boy from Newfoundland. He lives in a retirement home that his mother runs, he has an eighty-six-year-old best friend named Mr. Tom, he knows more about fixing boats than video games, and he has Mosaic Down syndrome. When Benny transitions to a mainstream classroom for the first time, the other students tease him for his differences…except for Salma. She’s new, too, and not your typical Newfoundland girl: she’s tech savvy, speaks Arabic, plays basketball, and isn’t afraid to eat lunch with Benny. So when Salma’s grandmother and several other residents in the retirement home are robbed, Benny asks Salma to help him catch the thief. Time is not on their side as an inspector threatens to close the home. And to make matters worse, Benny and Salma must crack the case while working on a class assignment with their bullies. Can Benny save his home and take a stand against the bullies once and for all? He’s about to find out, b’ys. * "An immersive, empathetic, and endearing mystery, me duckies." -- Booklist, STARRED REVIEW * "Utilizing a POV seldom seen in children’s fiction, King crafts a uniquely savvy mystery crackling with the chill and charm of rural Newfoundland." -- Publishers Weekly , STARRED REVIEW "A heartfelt character-driven mystery featuring a neurodivergent male protagonist that explores friendship, belonging, and family, this is a story perfect for fans of R.J. Palacio’s Wonder , Gayle ­Forman’s Not Nothing , and Gordon ­Korman’s Restart ." -- School Library Journal "Young sleuths become best friends as they defeat scoundrels and save seniors in this page-turning mystery." -- Kirkus Reviews "This riveting mystery hits all of the staples of the genre: red herrings, shifty side characters, climactic clue reveals, and allusions to popular sleuths like Sherlock Holmes and Matlock." -- BCCB Wesley King is the is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of over a dozen novels for young readers. He has received over twenty literary awards and seen his work translated for release in many languages. He is currently traveling the world full time in search of good stories and cold beer. Chapter One: G’wan to School, Me Son CHAPTER ONE G’wan to School, Me Son Mum always says I must be the only eleven-year-old b’y in the world who watches the weather network. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but if it is, how do all those other kids know when the rain’s coming? They just stick their heads out the window or what? Mum also says I got to be the only eleven-year-old b’y living in a retirement home, and that’s probably true, because Mr. Tom agrees with her. When those two agree—trust me, it don’t happen much—you can go ahead and take it as fact. What I do know is I’m the only b’y named Benny in this house, which is good, because someone’s always shouting my name. “Benny!” Mum hollered, bodychecking my bedroom door open. “Whadda y’at?” Her auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail and right shiny from the shower, and she was wearing joggers, her favorite hoodie that said “Oh, Me Nerves,” and ratty white house sneakers, which she always wore inside because she “walks six miles by supper on a slow day.” Mum also had a stack of clean towels bundled in her right hand, while the left one was perched on her hip like she was playing at a tea kettle. “You on holiday, me son?” she continued. “Today of all days?” “Could I be?” I asked hopefully. She stormed in and yanked my knit quilt right off. It was only the first week of September but it was already cool, and the morning air made my skin go bumpier than the old football half-deflated in the shed. “You can go on holiday when you’re as old as Mr. Tom,” she grumbled, kissing me hard on the forehead before giving my left earlobe a shake. “Or older, since that fool won’t sit still. Now go get some breakfast. We don’t want you late on your first day in the regular class, curse them all to… well, none of that now. ‘Start the day with a curse and end up for the worse,’ me dear mum always said, bless her soul.” I felt a twist in my guts at the words “regular class,” like some little plumber was down there having a go with a spud wrench. I’d been awake for three hours now, so nervous that I wasn’t sure if I had to pee or throw up. I must have looked as rotten as I felt, because Mum studied me like I was one of them sudokus she did before bed. “Are you okay, me duckie?” she asked, squeezing my clammy hands. “You’re white as these towels, and I ju