Zara loved white noodles. She liked them straight, curly, hot and cold. If a pea rolled onto her plate, she parked it under her spoon. If a carrot appeared, she built a noodle fence around it.
One afternoon, Zara was making a floor puzzle when the yellow sun piece slipped from her fingers.
“My arms have gone floppy,” she complained.
Mama felt her forehead. No fever. Still, Zara looked pale and tired, so they visited Dr. Jojo’s clinic.
The clinic door had a painted smile. Inside, a toy skeleton wore purple socks, and Dr. Jojo’s stethoscope jingled as he hurried over.
He listened to Zara’s chest, checked her eyes and asked what she had eaten.
“Noodles,” said Zara.
“And yesterday?”
“Noodles.”
“Any vegetables?”
Zara whispered, “They vanished.”
Dr. Jojo raised an eyebrow. “A vegetable mystery! We shall need the Rainbow Viewer.”
From a drawer he took a round mirror with coloured buttons. When Zara looked inside, she saw a tiny kitchen. Sleepy workers in her muscles were searching empty cupboards.
“More noodle boxes!” one groaned. “Where are the crunchy colours?”
Dr. Jojo explained that noodles gave her body useful energy, but it also needed different foods to help her grow, play and stay well.
“I cannot eat a whole carrot,” Zara said.
“Good,” said Dr. Jojo. “That would be a very large first bite.”
He gave her a little cardboard detective badge. “Your mission is to find three colours this week. You only have to taste one small bite. You may dislike it. Detectives report honestly.”
That evening, Zara inspected a carrot coin. It smelled earthy. It made a loud crunch.
“Not my favourite,” she decided, “but excellent for noisy eating.”
The next day she tried one green pea. It escaped her fork twice before popping into her mouth.
On the third day, she dipped a red pepper strip into yoghurt. “This one wins,” she announced.
Soon her dinner plate held noodles, two familiar colours and one new thing to investigate. Some tastes stayed. Some did not. Nothing had to hide beneath her spoon.
At the end of the week, Zara returned to her sun puzzle. Her fingers fitted the final piece into place, and she still had enough energy to build a noodle-shaped rocket beside it.
Mama found the missing peas later, tucked inside Zara’s old slipper.
“Case closed,” said Zara, pinning on her detective badge.