Super Jake and the King of Chaos

by Naomi Milliner

  I don’t know if a few minutes, or a few hours, go by. And I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t go to Magic Fest. But I know one thing: nobody makes fun of Jake.

  I won’t let them.

  I open my bedroom door, slip down the hallway, and enter Jake’s room to see how he’s doing. Mom is already there, playing with him inside “the Little Room,” this three-sided box with all sorts of stuff to touch and look at.

  “Dad said I could go to Magic Fest and that everything would be okay if I tell Ned I’m sorry.”

  Mom lets go of the shiny silver beads hanging over Jake’s left hand and turns to me. I can see by the sad look in her eyes that she already knows what I decided. “Oh, sweetie…” She reaches out and puts her hand on mine.

  “What Ned said… I can’t pretend it’s okay.” I touch Jake’s little foot with my other hand and hold on to it. “No matter what.”

  Mom squeezes my hand. “I am so sorry this happened. I know how much Magic Fest means to you.”

  There’s more I want to say, but the knot in my throat makes it hard to say it. I grab the yellow flashlight and shine it on the red foil over Jake’s head.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.

  “You could tell Dad to let me go.”

  “Ethan…”

  “I was only sticking up for Jake.”

  She rolls Jake onto his right side and shakes the silver beads for him to look at. “Dad knows that. I’m afraid it’s more complicated, though.”

  I hate it when adults say things are complicated. If something is complicated, it’s usually because they make it that way. Ned making fun of Jake? “Seems pretty uncomplicated to me: he was a jerk and I stood up for my brother. What’s so complicated?”

  Mom sighs. “Ethan, your dad is the assistant principal. He can’t condone anyone fighting—especially his own son.”

  “Ned started it,” I say for what feels like the umpteenth time.

  She stops jingling the beads and looks at me. “Listen. Ned’s parents have been divorced less than a year. It’s been really tough on him.”

  I roll my eyes. “Lots of kids have divorced parents. They don’t act like he does.”

  “Maybe not. But his dad’s in a different state, his grades have fallen, and he’s got this adorable little sister who can do no wrong.”

  I slide a filter over the flashlight and it turns the Little Room red. “Just because things are hard doesn’t give him the right to be mean—especially to Jake.”

  Mom rolls Jake onto his other side so he can see himself in the mirror. “You’re absolutely right.” She helps him squeeze a little orange ball that squeaks. “Still. I can’t help feeling sorry for Ned.”

  “Well, I feel sorry for me. It’s not like my life is so great, either.”

  Mom puts the ball down and looks at me like I just said the worst thing ever. I stare at a piece of crinkly paper on the floor so I don’t have to look at the hurt expression on her face.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Her voice is soft and sad.

  I sigh. “What I meant was—”

  “I know exactly what you meant.” She gently scoops Jake out of the Little Room and into her arms, hugging him tight as his eyes start to close.

  “I realize our life isn’t easy,” she says. “But at least we all have each other.”

  She puts Jake in his bed for a nap and leaves the room. I head toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. Dad and Freddy are in the living room watching TV. They both laugh at the same time, and Freddy squeezes in under Dad’s arm, fitting perfectly like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle… just like I used to.

  I wonder if Ned used to sit that way with his dad, too.

  “Seriously? You pushed Ned?” Brian asks in between French fries.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty wild.” Daniel dumps ketchup on his last bite of hot dog. “Sucks about Magic Fest.”

  “Tell me about it.” I have no appetite, so I slide my lunch tray toward him.

  “You can’t give up.” Daniel bites into my turkey sandwich. “There’s gotta be something you can do to get back into the competition.”

  “If you think of it, let me know.”

  “Well, at least winter break starts soon,” Brian says. “And now you don’t have to spend it working on your magic act.”

  Great. A hollow feeling spreads inside me, and I don’t think it’s going away any time soon.

  “What he means”—Daniel shoots Brian a dirty look—“is there will be tons of other chances.”

  “Not to meet Magnus.” I crumple my brown paper bag.

  Daniel says, “I get where you’re coming from. All you did was stick up for Jake. It isn’t fair you’re being punished for it.”

  I shrug. “Doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.”

  What’s not over is the rest of school. I consider going to the nurse; I really am feeling sick. But she’d call Mom and Mom would have to stop whatever she’s doing with Jake, and I already called her to get me yesterday.… Besides, it’s not like I’ll feel any better at home, with my magician posters and magic props everywhere. Even Miss Wright and math equations can’t make me feel any worse.

  I slog through the rest of my classes. When the final bell rings, I barely have the energy to load my backpack.

  “Ethan?” Ms. Carlin walks over to my desk. “I heard you and Ned got into a fight. Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shrug.

  She turns a chair around so we’re facing each other and sits. “Sometimes it helps to talk things out. But only if you want.”

  I sigh then say, “Ned called Jake a bad name, and my dad got mad at me because I pushed Ned, and now I can’t go to Magic Fest because I won’t apologize for sticking up for my little brother.”

  “My goodness. That’s a lot to process. I’m going to need a moment.” She gets up, goes to her desk, and pulls something out. “I might need this, too.” She brings over a chocolate bar, breaks it in half, and gives me the bigger piece.

  “Thanks.” I take a bite. It’s really good, and for the first time all day, I’m starting to feel better.

  “Ethan, it’s not like you to get in trouble. What happened right before the name calling?”

  I’ve been trying to forget the whole thing, so it takes a minute to remember. “Ned called my dad a loser.”

  “That must have upset you. Then what happened?”

  “I said his dad was in Chicago.” Suddenly the chocolate doesn’t taste as good.

  Ms. Carlin looks confused.

  “His parents are divorced. He said something mean about my dad, so…”

  “You retaliated by doing the same.”

  I nod. It’s much easier to stay mad at Ned when I forget that part.

  She tilts her head a little. “If you could take back what you said, would you?”

  “I wanted to right after I said it, but then he… you know.”

  “It’s easier to say things in anger than it is to take them back,” she says.

  “Did Shakespeare write that?”

  She smiles. “No. But, as you know, he did write, ‘If you pardon, we will mend.’”

  “So you’re saying I should forgive Ned?”

  “I’m saying that perhaps you should forgive each other. It’s possible he regrets what he said, too.”

  Hmm. I never thought of that.

  “Confucius said, ‘To be wronged is nothing unless you continue to remember it.’ Ethan, only you can decide if it’s worth holding on to your anger.”

  On the way home I think about the anger I’m holding on to.

  By the time I get home, I’m angry at myself for even thinking about forgiving Ned. He doesn’t deserve it.

  I open the door, put my trumpet case on the floor, and throw my backpack down super hard.

  “Whoa!” Tina walks into the living room. “What did that backpack do to you?”

  I shrug.

  “C’mere, you old grouch.”

&n
bsp; I give her a half-hearted hug and she gives me a full-hearted one.

  “Ethan!” Freddy races into the room, his lips covered in blue icing. “Guess what Tina and I made?”

  “Something with blue icing?”

  His eyes double in size. “Cupcakes! How’d you guess?”

  Tina laughs and hands him a tissue. He wipes half of the blue goo away, then runs off to his room.

  “So,” she asks, “what’s got you in such a jolly mood?”

  I don’t feel like getting into the whole Ned-made-fun-of-Jake-so-I-hit-him story again. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  She shrugs. “Suit yourself. Hungry?”

  I shake my head. “Where is everybody?”

  “Jake had an awesome session with Suzette, so he’s taking a nap. And your mom’s visiting some friend who’s obsessed with coffee.”

  Oh no. That’s gotta be Rox. Since Jake is here and Wendy’s there, it’s not a playdate. Are Mom and Rox still friends after what happened with Ned and me? What if—

  Tina waves her hand in front of my face. “Am I boring you?”

  “Huh?”

  “What is going on with you?”

  “It’s a long story.…”

  She smiles. “Those are my favorite kind. Let me go check on your brothers, then you can tell me all about it.”

  She’s still checking on Jake when I look out the living room window and see Mom pull into the carport. Before she puts her key in the door, Dad pulls up, too. They meet halfway and stand there, talking in the driveway. Mom’s using her hands a lot and Dad’s shaking his head and I wonder if I’m in even more trouble somehow.

  Meanwhile, Tina carries Jake into the living room, and she’s all smiles. Mom and Dad are not all smiles as they walk down the driveway together.

  “Uh-oh,” Tina says. “They don’t look very happy.”

  I hear Mom’s key in the door and try not to panic. After all, things can’t get any worse.

  “Hey,” Tina says, looking at me. “I left something for you on your bed. Hope you like it.”

  “Thanks.” Knowing her, it’s either a comic book or a magazine article about Magnus. She’s gonna feel really bad when I tell her Magic Fest is off.

  Mom comes in and, as usual, fusses over Jake and listens while Tina reports on the afternoon, but she keeps looking over at me. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I’m guessing it’s not good.

  Dad hangs up his coat, says hi to Tina and Jake, and barely glances in my direction before he goes down the hall. He’s either upset or tired, or both.

  Tina warms a bottle for Jake, brings it to Mom, and leaves.

  “I saw Rox this afternoon,” Mom says. She looks at me and Jake looks at her as he drinks his bottle. “She feels terrible about what Ned said to you. She thinks he’s the one who should apologize.”

  “She does? Did you tell Dad that?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  Mom pauses to rub Jake’s back. The suspense is killing me. “This whole thing has really upset your father.”

  “Upset him? I’m the one who’s not going to Magic Fest! All I did was stand up for Jake.”

  Mom opens her mouth to respond, then closes it again. I think that means she agrees with me, but doesn’t want to say anything against Dad.

  I look at Jake, who is contentedly drinking his bottle. He never has to make tough decisions and he never gets in trouble. No one ever gets mad at Jake.

  I go to my room and turn on the light. There’s a big bag on my bed: Tina’s surprise. I open the bag and look inside. It’s a purple velvet cape with glittery moons and stars all over it: my King of Chaos costume.

  The longer I stare at it, the worse I feel. An ache starts in my stomach and goes straight to my heart. I stare so long at the cape that everything goes blurry. I wipe my eyes, put the costume back into the bag, and take it down the hall to my parents’ room. Maybe if they see all the trouble Tina went to, they’ll feel guilty and change their minds about Magic Fest.

  I’m about to knock on the closed door when I hear Dad’s muffled voice: “The rules clearly state that punishment is up to our discretion.”

  My hand stops midair. I stand as quietly as possible, barely breathing.

  Mom’s voice is next. “I agree one hundred percent. And I say missing Magic Fest is punishment enough.”

  “Becca, fighting is one of the most serious infractions in the parent handbook.”

  “I know,” Mom answers. “I read it—particularly the part about physically harming another student. What about emotionally harming?”

  I feel like cheering from the sidelines, but I stay silent. It’s a good thing, too, because all of a sudden it’s quiet on the other side of the door. Really quiet. I hold my breath and lean in closer so I don’t miss anything.

  After a few seconds, I hear Mom’s voice again, soft but strong. “It’s true Ethan threw the first physical punch, but we both know what Ned said was just as painful—probably more so.”

  More silence, then I hear Dad say, “All right. We’ll leave it as is.”

  I thank Mom (silently, of course). Then I head back to my room to think about everything I just heard. It’s only when I close my door that I realize I’m still holding the bag with my King of Chaos costume inside.

  “Is it today? Is it today?”

  Without even opening my eyes, I know Freddy is bouncing up and down in his goofy snowman pajamas. He’s been doing it every morning since Mom sent out invitations for Jake’s birthday party.

  The difference is, this time I open my eyes and say, “It is today!”

  Jake’s party is in the party room at our grandparents’ condo. The five of us arrive early to get everything ready. Dad puts together a salad big enough for the Guinness World Records, while Mom stirs up a huge crockpot of homemade chili. Freddy pulls out his crayon box to make a HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAKE! sign, and I put together a plate of cheese, crackers, and grapes.

  Meanwhile, Bubba tries every button on the party room’s mysterious coffee maker, and Emma sings “The Alphabet Song” to the guest of honor, who is sitting in her lap with one eye open and one eye closed. He’s all dressed up in his brand-new Oscar the Grouch sweater.

  “Anybody need some help?” a familiar voice calls out.

  “Chris!” I stop building my tower of cheese and Freddy and I run to the door, practically tripping over each other to get to our favorite neighbor.

  He lifts Freddy up and swings him around in a circle.

  “Are you already done with school?” Freddy asks.

  “I wish.” Chris laughs, still spinning him around. “I’m home for winter break.”

  “You are so lucky,” I tell him. “We have a whole week left.”

  “I feel your pain.” Chris puts Freddy down, high-fives me, then goes over to Jake and squeezes his hands. “Hey, Jake. Happy birthday!”

  Having Chris back puts all of us in an even happier mood—plus, he’s really tall, so we get the streamers up a lot faster. So fast that there’s time for Freddy and me to show him a new card trick before the other guests arrive.

  I pull out a deck of cards from my jeans pocket. (Ethan’s Rule #4: A good magician should always have a deck of cards available.) While Chris and Freddy chat, I shuffle the cards and put ten on the table.

  “Okay,” I tell Chris. “Look at these cards and choose one—but don’t tell me which it is. Tell Freddy instead.”

  Chris picks a card and whispers into Freddy’s ear.

  “Now, Freddy will point to one card at a time and I’ll tell you the one you chose.”

  “Sounds good,” Chris says.

  Freddy points to the ten of hearts. “Is that it?”

  “Nope,” I say.

  He points to the three of diamonds. “Is that it?”

  “Nope,” I say again.

  He points to the ace of spades. “Is that it?”

  “That’s it,” I say.

  Chris smiles. “Okay, let’s do
it again,” he says.

  This time, Freddy points to the right card on the second try. Then we do it a third time, and he points to the right card on the fifth try.

  “Hmm,” Chris says. “What if we try it with nine cards instead of ten?”

  “No problem,” I tell him. Because it isn’t. It doesn’t matter how many cards you use as long as you know how to use them. I’m shuffling the deck again when the other guests start showing up, so I promise to do the trick for him later with only nine cards.

  Once everyone’s arrived, there are about thirty people crammed into the party room, including Dad’s parents (who drove down from Pennsylvania), Chris’s parents, Tina, Jake’s therapists, Wendy and Rox, and “the Group.” Seeing Rox makes me think about Ned, which is the last thing I want to do right now (or ever). I try my best to avoid making eye contact with her.

  The first thing we do is play “Everything You Wanted to Know about Jake, but Were Afraid to Ask.” It’s sort of a test, only with funny questions, like:

  Jake enjoys eating:

  a) squash

  b) peas

  c) applesauce

  d) everything

  (If you guessed D, you get one point.)

  Jake’s guests fill out the quiz, occasionally stopping to write him a birthday message in a blank Winnie the Pooh book Mom passes around. Meanwhile, Dad is busy taking pictures of people smiling and laughing and hugging Jake, while Freddy pesters Chris with questions like, “Does your roommate like Star Wars?” and Wendy shows Jake a Disney princess book.

  I stand in the corner, avoiding Rox and munching cheese. I’m on my sixth piece when Bubba joins me. “Hey, buddy! Try to leave some cheese for the rest of us.” He winks. “How about doing one of your magic tricks for me?”

  Before I can even answer him, Pop-Pop, my other grandfather, ambles over. “Did I hear something about magic tricks?”

  “How ’bout a card trick?” I start to pull my deck out again when I spot something I can use for a different kind of trick. “Actually, hold on a second.”

  I get Freddy’s crayon box and hand five different-colored crayons to Bubba, then turn my back to him. “Choose any color you like and be sure to let Pop-Pop see it.”