What was making Hugo’s bean plants droop like sleepy hats?

He stood in the little garden behind his house, holding a green watering can with both hands. The lettuce looked limp. The carrots were thin. Even the marigolds by the fence had tired petals. Hugo felt worried. His tummy felt wiggly.

“Please perk up,” he whispered.

But the leaves only hung lower.

Next door, Mrs. Flores was hanging up a blue scarf on her clothesline. She was Hugo’s neighbor, and she was also a soil scientist. Hugo liked that very much. It sounded like she studied dirt, but she always said, “Soil is more than dirt. It is alive with helpers.”

Hugo hurried to the fence. “Mrs. Flores! My vegetables are sick.”

She came over at once, carrying a basket of clothespins. Her eyes were gentle and bright. “Then we must investigate,” she said. “Ready, Soil Detective?”

Hugo nodded. He loved the sound of that.

Mrs. Flores bent down beside the garden bed. “When plants need help,” she said, tapping the soil softly, “we look low, low, down below.”

Hugo smiled and repeated, “Low, low, down below.”

That became their detective phrase.

First, Hugo checked the watering can. “Maybe they are thirsty,” he said.

A fair idea, he thought. Fair meant giving each plant what it needed.

He poured water carefully around every stem. The dark soil drank it up. Hugo waited. He watched one leaf. Then another.

Nothing changed.

The beans still drooped.

Hugo sighed. “That didn’t work.”

Mrs. Flores put a kind hand on his shoulder. “Good detectives test one idea at a time. Now we ask another question.” She pointed to the ground. “What is happening low, low, down below?”

Attempt one was done.

For attempt two, Mrs. Flores brought a small trowel, a magnifying glass, and a white tray.