Trouble with a Tiny t

by Merriam Sarcia Saunders

  FRIDAY—AT LUNCH

  Josh and Snake come out of class, probably heading toward the field behind the quad. Probably going to eat lunch there. Probably not going to ask me to join them.

  I lean against the outside wall by the water fountain. Maybe I shouldn’t show the guys the video I took last night. Maybe I should just forget about them. Forget about Lenora. Start over. Find different friends.

  “Hey,” Josh says as they pass me. “Thanks, man.”

  “What for?” I ask.

  “For not ratting us out about the football thing. That was decent,” Josh says.

  “Yeah,” Snake mutters behind him.

  Wow. Okay. Maybe they’re done being mad at me now. We are still friends. Lenora doesn’t know what she’s talking about. That settles it.

  “I brought proof to show you guys. It’s in here.” I start to take my backpack off my shoulders to pull out my phone.

  “I’m outta here. Going to eat by the courts.” Snake takes off to the Back Five.

  Josh starts to follow, so I grab his shirt. “Seriously,” I whisper. “I have video.”

  Josh looks toward the Back Five, then back at me. “Of what?”

  I tug his sleeve, pulling him toward the alcove outside of the music room, next to the upper-grade locker area.

  “Dude, you’re creeping me out,” Josh says, yanking his sleeve away.

  I unzip my backpack and take out my phone to power it up, but just then Snake calls, “Josh, man, come on. We need you for hoops!”

  “No, wait,” I say as Josh glances toward Snake. “It’s true magic. For real. Let me show you. I wasn’t kidding about the T. rex. I videoed it doing an obstacle course in my room!” The phone is fully on, and I click the video.

  Josh looks at me like I just told him I wear a ballerina tutu around my house when I’m alone. “West, don’t say stuff like that out loud, dude. Seriously.” He shakes his head and turns away.

  “No, wait!” I reach out and grab his arm.

  As he tries to twist out of my grasp, my backpack slips off my shoulder, falls off my arm, and slams him right in the crotch.

  Josh falls to the ground, cradling himself. “Ow, dude! You’re… such… an idiot.”

  “Sorry. Oh, crud. I’m really sorry.”

  Josh flips over to his knees to catch his breath. A bunch of eighth-grade girls nearby point and giggle. He lifts himself up and glares at me.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Still sort of doubled over, he pushes through the wall of laughing girls and walks to the Back Five.

  I angrily kick my backpack, and it flies into the shins of Zoe Fastbinder, the class president, nearly tripping her.

  “Hey!” Zoe hollers. “What is wrong with you?”

  I’m a walking disaster, that’s what’s wrong with me. I bend down to collect my pack and the papers that fell out. Zoe picks up my fire monster drawing. She shows it to her pack of girls, who all laugh.

  “Aww, look at the cute little guy,” Zoe says. “He’s so sweet with those big eyes! Did you draw this?”

  I grab it from her and shove it into my backpack.

  “It’s totally good. Really.” She has a smirk on her face, though. “Looks like you’re not inept on all levels.” Her friends laugh.

  This is humiliating. Popular girls watching me whack my friend in the groin, then calling my fire monster a “cute little guy.” He’s not little. He’s not supposed to be cute. He’s ferocious and fiery. He could take down the whole flipping school if he were real.

  Everyone’s settled eating lunch, but my appetite is completely gone. I slump down against the brick wall. Both Lenora and Josh hate me now. Totally and completely. I can imagine what Thor would say. Some sort of medieval I-told-thou-so. But I guess he’s right.

  A few minutes later, Snake walks over to get water from the fountain I’m sitting by. He ignores me, but I have an idea. While he’s drinking, I pop up, press play, and slip my phone under his face.

  “What the—” He jerks back.

  “Look at it!” I shove it toward him. “See. A T. rex. A real, live T. rex. Running around my room.”

  Snake squints and dips toward my phone.

  “Yup. That’s right. It’s real,” I say.

  He takes the phone to look closer. “How’d you do that? A movie app?”

  “No! It’s not an app. It’s real.”

  “What’s that on its back?”

  “That’s… a long story. It’s sort of… Thor.”

  “Thor?” Snake looks at me like pretty much anyone would if you told them you had a tiny Scandinavian superhero riding a dinosaur in your room. But he watches the entire video. I probably have a good seven minutes of footage, with sound and everything. There’s no faking it.

  “Whose hand is that thing eating from?” Snake turns the screen so I can see.

  “That’s my hand.”

  “You fed a T. rex salami from your bare hand?” Snake’s eyes go all saucer-sized.

  I just shrug. “He’s tame now.”

  “And this T. rex and those creepy army guys and… Thor—they just crawled out of some magic purse that belongs to your grandma?”

  “It doesn’t belong to… never mind. Yes. I can make anything I want come out of it. I mean, as long as I’ve seen it first. But—”

  “Whatever you want?” Snake cocks his head. “So you picked these things?”

  My cheeks flush. “I didn’t… it was an accident. Like, you know the thing that made everyone scream in the tunnel yesterday?”

  “That bandaged animal?”

  “It wasn’t an animal. It was a mummy. I made it.”

  “Dude.” Snake thinks for a minute, then nods. “It did look like a mummy. Show me.”

  I reach into my backpack to pull out the wooden box, lifting the lid to reveal the pouch inside. Snake reaches for it, but I snap the lid shut.

  “Make something then,” he says.

  “Hey, Snake!” Frankie calls from the Back Five. “What’s taking you so long?”

  Snake looks toward the courts. “Quick. Do it now.”

  “No. It’s too dangerous here.” Especially since I still haven’t solved the small problem of how to make things go back. “Come over after school with the guys. I’ll show you then.”

  “Snake, man. Come on!” Alex calls.

  Snake thinks for a second. “Okay. I’ll come over for five minutes. But if it’s fake, I’m outta there,” he says, fast-walking back toward the courts.

  I run after him. “Great, cool.”

  “Stop following me, though,” he says.

  I catch up to him. “Can I shoot hoops with you guys?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because I like my eyes the way they are,” he says, loud enough for the others to hear.

  Josh throws the ball to Snake.

  “But the video…” I say. He saw it. He believed it. Why is he being a jerk again?

  “Come to show us your magic?” Frankie high-fives Snake, then steals the ball away and takes a shot at the net.

  “I just showed Snake the video—it’s a real dinosaur,” I say. “Tell them, Snake.”

  Snake just shrugs and shoots for the basket but misses. Josh grabs the ball.

  “Come on. Guys.” I thrust the phone out. “Why would I lie?”

  “Oh, it’s not a lie. Suuuure, you have a dinosaur,” Frankie says, trying to block Josh’s shot. “Maybe you should back away slowly before you cause another basketball tragedy.”

  The whole group erupts with laughter, including Josh.

  “It wasn’t my fault Snake got hit in the face.”

  “Then maybe before you slam someone else in the crotch!” Alex cries, grabbing Josh’s rebound. Alex and Frankie bend over laughing.
/>   “I’m sorry about that, Josh. Really.”

  Alex holds the ball and shakes his head. “Dude, you seriously think that’s the only reason why?”

  “Why what?” I ask.

  Frankie bumps Alex and pulls the ball out of his hands. “Why we don’t want to hang out with you. How about you’re annoying? How about you always have been? How about we’re just not friends? Period.”

  I can feel it—the stinging behind my eyes. I know they can see the tears welling up.

  Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.

  But I can’t help it. The waterworks have a mind of their own and turn on, pouring down my cheeks.

  “Josh?”

  Josh, who’s been quiet in the background, stays silent. He grabs the ball from Frankie, then turns his back on me to take a shot at the basket.

  I don’t know what to do, so I run to the gym—the farthest I can go without leaving campus. I swing the door open and go into the dimly lit space. The bitter, gassy smell hits me in the face, but I’d rather be smelling robot farts in private than letting anyone see me cry.

  I throw my backpack on the ground. Everything spills out for, like, the eleventh time today. I kick at my books and watch as the magic pouch tumbles out of the box. The pouch and my drawings slide across the smooth gym floor. They settle under the tables that have been set up for the science fair tomorrow.

  I slump down against the door and have good cry. I can’t do anything right. Nothing. Useless Vacation Brain.

  But Alex and Frankie are wrong. Snake and Josh didn’t always think I was annoying. It’s only lately, after the black eye. I’m a good friend. They have no reason not to like me.

  I wipe my cheeks with my sleeve and look up. A purple banner with orange letters hangs across the far end of the gym.

  SCIENCE FAIR SATURDAY

  Get your science on!

  That’s tomorrow. I think about Alex and his who-cares fiery volcano. I hope he burns the whole smelly gym down, along with the smelly P.E. shirts.

  The three-minute end-of-lunch warning bell rings. I take in a long breath. I can’t go back out there and face them. Josh just stood there. He never said anything. He probably shared my password with Snake in tech class, and I know he let me take the fall for his paper football. Plus, he didn’t believe me about T. What kind of friend is that?

  Forget it. I’m not going to cry over them. They’re not worth it.

  I shove the wooden box into my backpack and walk across the gym floor to get the rest of my stuff, my sneakers squeaking on the brown surface. I pick up the magic pouch and scrunch it between my fingers, then sweep my drawings from the floor and carry them in a pile, my fire monster on top.

  Looks like you’re not inept on all levels. That’s what Zoe said.

  I’m not inept. Not at drawing. In fact, I’m amazing at it. Mr. Lowde even thinks so, and he’s an art teacher, so he should know. This fire monster ROCKS. What did Mrs. Sandbeam say? You’re very talented. Drawing is a talent. I may not be talented at school or enchantments, but just like Uncle Marty, I’m really good at—wait, wait, wait! At drawing!

  Suddenly, I understand. I see it so clearly. How to control the magic—the customized magic. Customized for Uncle Marty’s artistic talent. Just like mine. All those things in the box—the ticket, the money—Uncle Marty drew them.

  But the instant that imaginary light bulb flickers over my head, it’s outshone by a brighter, more dangerous light.

  Because I just looked at my fire monster drawing. While holding the pouch.

  The heat makes me drop the pouch at my feet before it burns my hand. A small—but still hot and burning—fire monster crawls out. The pouch doesn’t burn, but the floor starts to. The fire monster jumps up and down and starts to roll around, sizzling.

  “Dang it!” I blow at the fire monster like he’s a birthday candle.

  He twitches and tickles at each breath I blow, which is totally useless and doesn’t work. It only makes him run away from me like we’re playing tag, leaving a trail of char marks along the shiny gym floor.

  “Get back here!” I yell.

  The fire monster smiles as he zig-zags from me. He thinks it’s a game. He darts under the science fair tables, peeking out from behind a metal leg. He grasps at the corner of the tablecloth draping down, causing fire to rip up its side. Soon, the entire tabletop is on fire.

  “Shoot. No! Crud!” I grab the magic pouch and my backpack and run toward the gym door. I have to get water to douse him before he does any more damage.

  I push the door open and run outside.… just as the explosion happens.

  FRIDAY NIGHT

  “What happened?” Mom opens the front door in a whirl of worry, and Dad practically shoves me into the living room. “There are a million voicemails on my phone from the school. West, what did you do? Are you okay?”

  “What happened is that they think our son blew up the school gym, and you never answered your phone, so I had to leave a crazy busy workday to go to the school when he’s your responsibility this week.” Dad stays by the door because he knows Mom doesn’t like him to come in.

  “I was at a conference!” Mom looks from Dad to me. “You blew up the gym?”

  I shrug. I don’t know what to say. Thankfully the firefighters arrived fast enough to control the blaze, but the gym is toast. It’s now four burnt walls, standing there like giant slices of charred bread. They taped the whole thing off. Other than that, the school is okay. Some classroom windows blew in, but everyone was at recess, so no one got hurt.

  I still don’t understand how my little fire monster could have caused such a big explosion. And if he had to destroy part of the school, why-oh-why couldn’t it be Mr. Widelot’s room?

  “Westin, buddy, you can’t shrug your way through this.” Dad sighs. “The fire marshal grilled our son like he was one of my criminal clients, but all West will say is that he was eating lunch and then the gym blew up.”

  I sit on the sofa, keeping my chin down. I can’t deny it. I did it. I’m probably going to jail forever.

  Mom starts pacing. “How serious could this get, Phil? Oh, West.” Tears come to her eyes. “You’ll never get into that Waldorf school if people think you set fires.”

  That’s what she’s worried about?

  I fiddle with my fingers, afraid to look up.

  “Pauline, I think this proves that some nature school isn’t going to help West. He needs structure—good, hard academics.” Dad shakes his head at me. “You seriously have nothing to say for yourself, Westin?”

  Nothing they want to hear. It’s my fault. I’m trouble with a capital T. No news there.

  Dad drags a hand through his hair. “We all have to be at the school tomorrow at ten a.m. The principal wants to meet with us. She’s coming in, even though it’s her day off.” He exhales. “Not exactly how any of us want to spend a Saturday morning, I imagine, but… I’ll see you there.” He flicks a wave and marches down the front steps without closing the door.

  Mom just stands there for a minute, tapping fingers against her lips, then shuts the front door. “West, talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

  “I-I… didn’t mean to do anything. I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? The gym burned down, everyone thinks you did it, and all you can say is ‘I don’t know’?” Mom tilts her head. “West, I want to help you, but you have to give me more than that.”

  There’s nothing I can say. Nothing she’d believe. I shrug.

  Mom exhales. “Just… go to your room. I need to think.”

  I get up and slog down the hall and into my bedroom. I don’t even want dinner. Not that she’s offering any.

  Before I go in, Mom calls after me. “Oh, and your friend came by right after I got home.”

  I freeze. “What friend?”

  “The Madsen
boy. He said you borrowed something of his, and he needed to grab it.”

  “Snake was here?” I run back into the living room. “Did you let him in my room?”

  Mom is sifting through mail and doesn’t look up. “Hmm? Yes, I did.”

  “No! How could you do that?” My voice is squeaky high as I run down the hall. “I said no one could go in!”

  “I was a little preoccupied listening to voicemails about you burning down the gym, West!” she calls back.

  When I open my bedroom door, Thor rushes to my feet. “Ogre! He’s gone! They took him!”

  “What?” I look around for Tiny T.

  “We tried to defend the dragon, the men and I, but there were too many for us to subdue.”

  “He took T? How?” I rush to my closet and look inside. Empty. Nothing under the bed either.

  “Three ogres. The first came in through the big door you use. He claimed to be friend, not foe. My true warrior instinct smelled foul play, as you said there have been enemies in your ogre world. But the dragon went to him willingly, as the gentle one we have tamed him to be. We made polite conversation, and the ogre asked questions about where we came from. He seemed to know about the magic that conjured us and asked if the tools to possess it might be present. It was then that I knew he was the ogre enemy you spoke of.”

  “He wanted the pouch?” I slump down on my bed. This can’t be happening. “Tell me everything, Thor.”

  “I was about to demand his departure when the other ogres came to the window.”

  “Other ogres? What did they look like?” I walk to my open window and look outside. There’s nothing but empty lawn.

  “Like you. Big, overpowering body odor. One had a very large cranial area. They referred to their leader as a serpent.”

  “Serpent? You mean Snake.”

  “Yes, that’s it. The Snake threw your bedcover over the dragon and lifted him out the window to the waiting ogres. The Snake tried to take me too, but I managed to clobber his large foot, and he released me.”