Super Jake and the King of Chaos

by Naomi Milliner

  Rox puts down her cup. “Hi, Jake.”

  Wendy helps Jake wave. “He says hi back.”

  Rox sort of waves, too.

  Wendy skips back to her seat and takes another bite of cookie.

  Rox takes one from the box. “Wendy, maybe Jake would like one?”

  Wendy shakes her head. “He can’t eat cookies,” she says, crumbs flying out of her mouth.

  “Oh,” Rox says. “Maybe a glass of milk?”

  Wendy shakes her head again.

  Rox takes a deep breath, then another sip of coffee.

  “I’ll warm a bottle for him.” Mom heads for the fridge.

  “You know…” Rox stands. “We really should be going.”

  Mom stops in her tracks. “This’ll just take a minute, promise.”

  “No, we… I need to get home and start dinner.”

  I look at the clock: it’s 3:45 p.m.

  Mom’s shoulders slump. “Oh, well, if you’re sure.”

  “I am. Thanks so much for… we’ll do it again soon. My house next time.”

  “Sounds good,” Mom says.

  “Bye-bye, Jake,” Wendy says.

  I help him wave goodbye.

  A few hours later, Jake’s pretend tea is replaced with a bowl of real applesauce and the rest of us are chowing down on one of our favorite meals: spaghetti. Even Jake likes it. He’s tried about a dozen sauces by now and likes the ones without green peppers best. Dad puts on Italian music, Mom lights long red candles, and Freddy and I play a game we like to call “Who can swallow the longest noodle?”

  Mom invented a game, too. She calls it “Who has the most sauce on his clothes?” The “winner” washes the dishes. Spoiler alert: it’s always Freddy.

  Dinner is great, but while Mom and Dad talk about their days and Freddy splatters sauce all over himself, I keep thinking about Wendy and Jake’s tea party.

  “Ethan, is something on your mind?” Mom asks as she serves up more pasta. “You seem preoccupied.”

  “I was just thinking. Jake’s birthday is coming up, and now that he’s got a friend… maybe we could have a party for him and invite Wendy.”

  “And Mandy!” Freddy pipes up. “She can give him whipped cream.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea!” Mom says. “We’ll invite Wendy, and Jake’s therapists, and Tina, and the Group…”

  Dad passes the garlic bread. “Sounds like a lot of work, Bec,” he tells Mom.

  “Will there be cake? And ice cream?” Freddy asks.

  “It’s not a party otherwise,” Mom answers.

  “I love parties!” Freddy jumps up, spilling what’s left on his plate all over his shirt. “Oops.”

  After the dishes (and Freddy) get cleaned up, we create a guest list, a menu, and even a game to play for Jake’s birthday party. Then I read another chapter of Merlin to Mom and Freddy while Dad gets Jake ready for bed. We’re at this really intense part where Merlin is trapped inside a stone. He can’t move, talk, see, or hear, but he’s still himself. He’s still Merlin.

  Later, when I go in to say good night to Jake, Bugs Bunny is holding an envelope with my name on it. “Hey, what’s this?” I squeeze Jake’s hands, and he smiles at me. I open the envelope, pull out a piece of paper, and read it out loud:

  Dear Ethan,

  Mommy said I should go to sleep, but I’m too excited about my party—and it was all your idea!

  I wanted to do something nice for you, too. So Mommy and Daddy and I came up with something we think you’ll like.

  Love, Jake

  I see a second envelope next to Tweety Bird. Inside, there’s a printed ticket that reads MAGIC FEST REGISTRATION: ONE JUNIOR MAGICIAN!

  Mom and Dad walk in, grinning at me.

  “I can’t believe it!” I hug them tight, then hug Jake, too. “Thank you so much!”

  “What happened?” Freddy runs in, his mouth brimming over with frothy toothpaste.

  I’m so excited, I give him a hug, too, and don’t even care that toothpaste splatters all over my shirt.

  As usual, the weekend went by too fast and Monday is here before I know it. It’s usually hard waking up for school, but today I wake up even earlier than I have to, so before school I can eat breakfast and still have time to count the money I’ve been saving up. Now that the registration fee is covered, I might actually be able to pay for the rest of the trip.…

  I cover my bed with the money I’ve saved so far: twenty-dollar bills, a pile of quarters, and everything in between. Katie’s party is coming up soon; plus, two more are scheduled on the calendar. If I’m lucky, some parents will feel generous and tip me—or book me for their own kid’s party.

  I put everything back into the bank Bubba gave me. It’s shaped like a top hat, with a slot to drop money into on top. It was originally see-through, but I didn’t want anyone (meaning Freddy) to see how much money was in it, so Tina covered it with silver glitter and now it’s even more awesome (and more private).

  I head to the living room, where Mom and Jake are having a joint session with Mandy and Suzette. Suzette is one of Jake’s physical therapists. Her job is to try to help Jake move better. She’s got a French accent and is really good friends with Mandy. The funny thing is, Mandy wants Jake to eat more, and Suzette wants him to eat less. She says if he gains too much weight, it’ll be even harder for him to roll over or sit up.

  “Bonjour, Ethan!” Suzette smiles at me. She’s holding Jake facedown on top of a big green ball. Mandy’s sitting on the floor in front of him, squeezing a bright red plastic chicken. They’re hoping Jake will try to lift his head to see it.

  “Bonjour, Suzette.” I grab my backpack and open the door before I run out of French conversation.

  “Have a good day!” Mom calls as I head out.

  And it is a good day… until gym class.

  Once again, I’m paired with my favorite teammate. He’s in a worse mood than usual, for whatever reason. If he weren’t so obnoxious, I’d almost feel bad for him, with his dad in Chicago and everything.

  “You throw like a girl,” he says, snarling in my direction.

  “Some girls throw better than you. Your little sister, for example,” I say jokingly.

  “You think you’re real smart, don’t you?”

  I smile, determined not to let him get to me. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  He throws the ball hard, but I catch it. “The only reason everyone’s nice to you,” he says, “is because your dad’s the assistant principal.”

  I throw the ball back, hoping Mr. Davis will blow his whistle and we can move on to foul shots or something.

  Ned takes a step closer. “Your dad’s a joke.”

  “Your dad’s in Chicago.” I blurt it out before even realizing what I said.

  Ned’s face turns red, and I instantly regret my words. Before I can think of a way to take them back, he says, “Your brother’s a retard!”

  Just then, Mr. Davis blows his whistle, signaling us to line up for foul shots. I know I should move, but I don’t. I know I should ignore Ned, but I can’t. And I know I should keep my mouth shut.

  But I won’t.

  It’s one thing to pick on me, or even my dad. But Jake is off-limits.

  “He has brain damage. What’s your excuse?” I shout at Ned.

  “I bet your dad wishes Jake had never been born.” Ned takes a step closer to me. “I bet you all do.”

  My fingers grip the ball. Tight. “SHUT UP!”

  “Make me.”

  My hands let go of the ball then fly up to Ned’s chest and shove him. He’s a lot taller and heavier than I am, but my anger is stronger and takes us both by surprise. He falls backward and I lunge toward him, swinging my fists.

  Everyone’s gathered around, watching us and shouting: “Fight! Fight!”

  “Break it up!” Mr. Davis’s voice is like thunder. “Ethan! That’s enough!”

  My hands drop to my sides and my breath comes hard and fast, like I just ran a marath
on.

  “Are you all right?” Mr. Davis asks. I start to answer, but he’s not talking to me. As he pulls Ned from the floor, Ned nods but doesn’t take his eyes off me.

  After that everything is a blur. Nothing feels real. I can’t believe I got into a fight. I can’t believe how happy I was just last night, or how happy my parents were with me. So happy they even paid for my Magic Fest registration.

  I can’t even imagine how unhappy they’ll be now, or how much trouble I’ll be in. I wish there were a trapdoor I could escape through.…

  I’ve been sitting in the office for half an hour now, wishing everything would disappear. I shut my eyes, but I still see Ned on the ground, looking up at me. And I still see the expression on Dad’s face when he was called out of a meeting… because of me. He looked as stunned as I felt—as I feel.

  At first, no one knew what to do with me, then it was decided that someone other than Dad would deal with me at school, since it would be all kinds of awkward for him to discipline me here. So, the other assistant principal gave me a lecture and said, since this was my “first offense” and there were “extraneous circumstances,” I wouldn’t be suspended or get detention or anything.

  I have a feeling I won’t get off so easily at home.

  By the time everything was sorted out, fourth period had already started, but there was no way I’d be able to concentrate in class. I didn’t want to stay at school another second. All I wanted was to go home and take a nap. A really long nap. So I called Mom to pick me up.…

  “Ethan?”

  I open my eyes and there she is, standing over me. Her face is all scrunched up and worried, but this time it’s all because of me.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I guess. Did Dad call you, too?”

  She nods. “He had to go to a meeting, so he couldn’t give me all the details.”

  Which makes me wonder exactly what details he did give her. Will she be mad at me or be on my side?

  “Let’s go.” She touches my arm. “Jake was sleeping, so Chris’s mom is watching him ’til we get back.”

  Five minutes later, we’re home. Mom thanks Mrs. Todd, who says Jake is still sleeping, then she walks across the street to her house and it’s just the two of us. I tell Mom what happened. She listens quietly, not interrupting even once. When I finally finish, I feel better that the story’s out, but I’m worried about what she’ll say. So I take a deep breath and ask, “What do you think? Was I wrong to stand up for Jake?”

  “Well…”

  Just then, her phone rings. I can’t believe it. She glances at the screen.

  “It’s Emma,” she says. “I’ll just be a minute.…”

  I decide to visit Jake, in case he’s awake. Luckily, he is. I lower the railing on his bed (which is there, even though he never rolls over anyway) and squeeze his hands.

  “Hey, Jake.” He smiles at me. I can’t smile back. “You won’t believe what happened. I got into this huge fight with Ned and now everything’s all messed up.”

  He looks at me with those big blue eyes of his. I know he’s listening, and I know he understands. Sometimes I think he’s the only one who does. Mom comes in and scoops Jake into a hug, then sits down and holds him in her lap.

  “Join us.” She pats the space next to her, and I sit on the little bed. “I think you were right to speak up for Jake,” Mom says, “and I’m proud of you.”

  I feel so much better.

  “But fighting is not how our family solves things. Ethan, you know better than that!”

  “You and Dad always say I should look out for my brothers. What was I supposed to do? Let Ned say mean stuff about Jake?”

  “Of course not. You could have talked to me about it instead.”

  “I am talking to you.”

  “It’s a little late.” She gives me a half smile. “Listen. I’m not going to sit here and excuse what Ned said. The thing is, it sounds like he was trying to provoke you—and you let him.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  She looks away from me and pulls Jake in close for a hug.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I know you’re trying to help.”

  “I am.” She leans over and gives me a hug, too. “There just isn’t a whole lot I can do at this point.”

  I hug her back. It’s nice to know one of my parents isn’t mad at me.

  I’m not so sure about the other.

  It’s only the middle of the afternoon, but I guess the day has caught up with me. Mom gets Jake ready for his bath and I go to my room, fall into bed, and pull the blanket over my head.

  I must have dozed off, because when Freddy opens my door I’m completely disoriented—then it all comes rushing back: the fight with Ned, Mom picking me up at school, the look on Dad’s face.…

  “Whatcha doin’?” Freddy asks.

  “Trying to sleep,” I tell him from under the blanket.

  “Mommy and I are working on the jigsaw puzzle! Wanna help?”

  “No.” I wait until he leaves, then throw off the blanket, turn on the light, and stare at my David Copperfield, Houdini, and Magnus posters, doing my best to channel their amazingness. Nothing less will get me out of this mess.

  “Guess what?” You-know-who bursts into my space. Again.

  “I’m busy.”

  He crinkles his nose. “Doing what? Invisible homework?” He laughs at his dumb joke. “Guess what Mommy’s gonna let Jakey try for dessert tonight?”

  “Sushi.”

  “Nope. Wanna guess again?”

  “No.”

  “A Popsicle! Guess what flavor?”

  “If I get it right, will you leave me alone?”

  He’s quiet for a full three seconds, which means he’s thinking. Hard. “Okay.”

  “Cherry.”

  “How did you know?”

  “He liked the cherry lollipop last week.” I wiggle my fingers. “See ya.”

  He leaves. Again.

  I grab a piece of paper and write HOW TO GET OUT OF THIS MESS. Then I start a list under it:

  1. Be sure Mom talks to Dad, but first, remind her how proud she was I stood up for Jake.

  2. Talk to Emma and Bubba in case they know how I can get out of this mess.

  3. Try talking to Dad.

  I think about that one for a minute or two, then add: If he’s not too mad.

  4. Make up for the fight by getting all A’s on my report card.

  Right. Good luck with that. Before I come up with the next idea, my door opens for the third time. “Go away, Freddy.”

  Only it’s not Freddy. It’s Dad. And he does not look happy. He looks so not happy that my stomach starts to hurt and I want to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head again. He closes the door and sits on my bed.

  “Ethan, we need to talk,” he says.

  “I know.” I put my pencil down.

  “Why don’t you go first and tell me what happened?”

  I try to talk, but I don’t know what to say. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. “I don’t know where to start.”

  Dad rubs his forehead the way he always does when he’s upset but doesn’t want us to know it. “It’s usually best to start at the beginning. Why did you get into a fight with Ned?”

  “’Cause he made me mad.”

  Dad shakes his head. “People get mad every day. But they don’t start—”

  “He called Jake a retard!”

  Suddenly, it’s like someone hit the pause button. After a few seconds, Dad lets out a long breath. “I’m sorry he said that.”

  I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say next.

  “Sometimes when people are upset they say things they don’t mean, and we have to… move past it.”

  “Move past it?”

  “Sometimes we have to be the bigger person and try to understand where the other person is coming from.”

  “I understood him just fine.”

  Dad speaks softly but his disappointment com
es through loud and clear. “That’s no excuse for shoving him.”

  “He started it!”

  “And you can end it.”

  “But he—”

  Dad puts his hand up, stopping me midsentence. “You need to apologize.”

  I exhale. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not to me. To Ned.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Dad stands up, looking more angry than unhappy. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  “What about Jake?”

  “This isn’t about Jake.” He massages the back of his neck.

  “Sure it is!” I stand up, too. “You’re always saying we should stand up for each other. But you won’t stand up for me! Or Jake…”

  Something in his face changes. The anger leaves, and he just looks… like Dad. He walks over and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I will always stand up for Jake. And for you. But there are better ways to stand up for someone than getting into a fist fight.”

  I open my mouth to argue some more, but he keeps talking. “You know as well as I do our school has a strict no-fighting policy.”

  “I know, but—”

  “I understand that Ned may have started the fight with his words.”

  “‘May have’? He totally did!”

  “But you threw the first punch.”

  I open my mouth to argue some more, only Dad doesn’t give me the chance. “Enough,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “You need to apologize to Ned.”

  “He should apologize to me! And to Jake.” My voice is just as firm.

  “I’m sorry, Ethan. If you don’t apologize to him, Magic Fest is off.”

  No. Not that. Anything but that.

  It feels like my heart has stopped beating.

  “I’m asking one last time. Tell him you’re sorry, and this all goes away.”

  Maybe he’s right. It’s just two words. Say I’m sorry and everything’s forgiven. We’ll all act like nothing happened, and I can go to Magic Fest and everything is okay again.

  Except it’s not.

  It’s not forgiven and it’s not forgotten and it isn’t going away because what Ned said is not okay.

  I reach inside my desk drawer, pull out the Magic Fest registration, and hand it over.