Ethan Marcus Makes His Mark

by Michele Weber Hurwitz

  As I sit down next to Natalia, Imani comes into the atrium. She goes up to Asher and whispers something. They both scan the room, stopping their gazes to rest on me for a brief second. Then they assume their usual poker faces.

  Okay, that was even weirder. And suddenly I get this shivery little feeling that things in Z land aren’t exactly as they appear to be.

  ZOE

  A lot of people text in all caps and you don’t always know why, but with Erin it’s pretty clear. DISTRESS.

  I get this all-cap text from her: I LOST IT.

  I’m completely confused. You lost what?

  MY COOL. I YELLED AT MARLON ON THE HIKING TRAIL. WE WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO TALK. DISASTER WITH A CAPITAL D.

  Oh, Erin!

  I know. I have to go. We’re starting up again. Connor and I need to build a model, and fast. We’re so behind.

  I’ll be home tonight. I’ll come over. Whatever happened, we’ll fix it. I’ll help you! I text her some smileys and hearts, but she doesn’t respond.

  I zip my duffel bag and bring it to the front door. We’re just about to get on the road. Hannah hugs her new friend, and both of them cry like they’ve known each other for years. Mom hugs Aunt Marci. I don’t feel like hugging anyone.

  Marci shakes a finger at Mom. “Now, you listen to all that advice I gave you.”

  Mom nods, then reaches for our bags.

  “Can I help?” I ask.

  She smiles at me. “I got it.”

  Mom slings a bag over each shoulder and picks up the third, then walks out and loads them into the trunk. She reminds me of the ant with the crumb on its back. Even if she gets tired a lot, she’s still pretty strong. She keeps going.

  “Good-bye, girls,” Aunt Marci says to me and Hannah. “Have a safe trip.” Hannah runs out to the car, but I turn to Marci. I have to say what’s on my mind, and fast, without her interrupting.

  “You might not think so, but recycling is important. It’s little, but big at the same time.” I point to a window by the kitchen sink. “I found your recycling bin in the garage and put it right under that window. All you have to do is open it, drop in an item, then roll it out to the curb once a week. Pickup is on Monday. I checked the website.”

  Marci stares down at me—surprised, mad, I don’t know. She’s quiet for once.

  “And one other thing.” My voice catches. “Even with everything that happened, my dad’s not a bad person.”

  I don’t wait for a reply or a comment or anything. I walk right out into the bright sun, feel the beautiful cold air against my skin, then get into the car. Hannah sniffles, wipes her eyes, and clamps on her headphones. Mom turns up the heat, and I buckle my seat belt.

  “It’s nice to be going home,” she says.

  I draw a heart on the frosty window. “It is.”

  Mom backs out of the driveway as Marci closes the front door. A few minutes later we’re on the highway. Hannah starts singing. Loudly, of course.

  Mom and I smile at each other; then she shrugs and looks straight out at the road ahead. I do the same.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Brian-storm

  ETHAN

  That night Brian comes over, and we go into the basement to hang out. We’re not there two minutes when Erin bounds down the stairs. Zoe’s behind her. She waves at me.

  “Hi. Uh, how was your trip?” I ask.

  She tilts her head. “Actually . . . better than I expected.”

  Erin plops onto the sofa. Her hair is sticking out in all directions. “Emergency meeting. I knew going into this that ZCIC would be like nothing I’d ever experienced before. But I didn’t know it would be quite this nerve-racking.”

  Zoe sits next to her.

  “Erin,” I say. “Romanov is just a lot of talk. You let him get to you too easily. He’s like a basketball player who brags about his skills all the time and annoys everyone.”

  “I hate that,” Brian says. “It’s ruined the game, if you want my opinion.”

  Erin sighs. “It’s not only him. I walked around the tables this afternoon. I’ve never felt so intimidated in my life. You should hear what everyone’s doing. I mean, you get in a group like this, with all these people, and you realize . . . I mean, you feel like you’re not . . .”

  “Erin, no,” Zoe says.

  She shakes her head. “Good enough.”

  Brian smirks. “Welcome to my world. I feel like that basically all the time.”

  “That’s not true, and you can’t think like that,” Zoe says. “Then you’ll never try anything.”

  Erin ignores her and looks up at me with a pained face. “Ethan, my little study device and your desk on a stick . . .”

  I roll my eyes. “Let me guess. Not big enough?”

  “Nowhere near.”

  Zoe leans forward. “Wait, desk on a stick? That’s so cute.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “Natalia and I came up with a whole new concept. It’ll have wheels and—”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Erin interrupts. “I could make a great device and you could make a terrific desk, but they’re not going to cut it, not compared to what everyone else is doing. I mean, melting polar ice, okay? That’s big.”

  “Wow,” Zoe says. “What are they doing? I’d love to see that project.”

  Erin shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re wrong,” I tell Erin. “My idea is good. Useful and new. It could make school so much better for a lot of kids! I’m talking millions.”

  “So will my idea, but I’m telling you—”

  “People of the basement.” Brian’s leaning against the air hockey table with his arms crossed. “Are you listening to yourselves?” He’s grinning like he got a joke no one else did. “Hello? Duh. You two want the same thing here.”

  “What are you talking about?” Erin frowns. “Our projects are completely different.”

  “Uh, no,” Brian says. “They’re not.” He slaps a hand on top of the air hockey table. “We’ve been using the same desks in school for as long as this table’s been around.”

  “Way longer,” Erin goes.

  Brian waves an arm. “Whatever. You get my point. And kids use the same old assignment notebooks year after year, am I right?”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Both of you want to make school better for kids.” Brian points to me. “Have a standing desk.” He looks at Erin. “Keep track of your assignments.”

  Erin and I glance at each other.

  Zoe leaps up. “Brian, you’re a genius!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He does a little swagger and brushes a hand across his shoulder. “I like to keep that side of me hidden. You know, not brag about my geniusness. Is that a word?”

  Zoe bobs her head excitedly. “Little things add up to big things!”

  “What exactly are you guys saying?” Erin asks.

  Brian pushes the puck across the air hockey table. It slides into the goal slot. He holds up the two strikers. “Team up.”

  “Team up?” I repeat.

  Zoe claps. “Yes! That’s exactly what you should do!”

  Erin stares at them. “This is probably completely against the rules, totally illegal, you guys helping us. But you know what? I don’t care! I DON’T CARE.”

  Brian raises his eyebrows. “Whoa, Erin McB! Ready to go to ZCIC prison.”

  “What do you think?” Erin asks me.

  “I don’t need to team up! I want to do my idea. I like it. It’s good! We’ve put a lot of work into it.”

  Erin stands and starts pacing. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are glistening. “You can do your idea, and you will. Don’t you see?” She stops in front of me.

  “No.”

  “We’ll figure out a way to incorporate both of our projects together into something bigger!”

  “Uh-uh. You’ll take over,” I say. “You’ll change it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Right,” I mutter. Brian and Zoe are on Erin’s side, I can tell. Th
ey’re all looking at me, waiting for me to get on board. What just happened? How did this spiral out of control so fast? And is Erin right? Will my invention not cut it? Do I even care about that, or do I only care about making something better than before?

  “Well?” Erin asks.

  “Dude,” Brian says. “You gotta know when to fold ’em.”

  I care. About the first thing.

  “I’m only agreeing to this if we keep my desk on a stick. Tell me we’re keeping it. Promise, and stick to it this time. And you’re gonna listen to me, not just do it your way.”

  “Yes, yes.” Erin holds up her palm. “I promise. And you have to listen to me, too.”

  “Okay, then, I guess—”

  Erin twirls around, Zoe shouts, “Yay!” and Brian goes, “You’re welcome.”

  A smile spreads across my sister’s face. “Ethan, remember the guest speaker on the second day? What he said it was about and what we should focus on?”

  “Uh, no . . .”

  “He said it wasn’t about learning to code or winning or selling your invention, or anything like that. He said it was about the idea. Just the idea. Now you remember?”

  “Yeah, now I do.”

  “This,” she says, softly punching my shoulder. “This is the idea. Our idea.”

  “Hey,” Brian interrupts. “My idea. I was the one who thought of you guys teaming up, like, two minutes ago, remember?”

  Erin looks at him. “Yes. Thank you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Again

  M.R.

  After dinner, I play chess. I am my own opponent.

  Mom comes over, rests a hand on my shoulder. “Marlon. I have some news.”

  I know before she says it.

  “We are moving again. Dad got the word today.”

  “Will I be able to finish the school year here?”

  “I’m afraid not. They need him there as soon as possible.” She sits next to me. “I know it must be hard on you, leaving your school and classmates again and again.” She runs a finger across the wood table, tracing a lighter part of the grain. “Truth be told, it’s getting hard on me, too.”

  We sit for a few minutes, both of us quiet. I make a last move. A knight. “Checkmate,” I whisper, and Mom pats my back. “It will be okay,” she says.

  I nod.

  “This is what we do,” she says, then gets up, brushes her skirt. “What else can we do?” She goes into the kitchen.

  I return the chess pieces to their starting positions, placing them neatly in their squares, then walk down the hall to my small, tidy room. I survey the contents. A bed, a dresser, a desk. Clothes and shoes in the closet. My Shakespeare volume.

  When you move frequently, you learn not to carry many items with you. They only take up space in a truck. You learn what is truly necessary, and you learn to be ready at a moment’s notice.

  I hear running water in the bathroom, the creak of a floor, the sound of a car horn blaring outside. Sounds of a place I will not remember. I hear my father’s laugh and my mother’s optimistic voice. They are already discussing, planning, starting to prepare. That is what they do.

  I wonder where we are going. I did not ask.

  Does it matter?

  In chess, the king is arguably the most important piece, yet also the weakest. A player must always protect the king. He is most vulnerable.

  I find that interesting.

  I wanted you to know.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The Innovative Four

  ETHAN

  After Zoe and Brian leave, Erin and I shut off the lights and go upstairs. Mom and Dad are already in bed. We stand in the hall for a few minutes, a bright full moon visible through the window at the top of the hallway, our shadows long across the carpet.

  “Brian,” I say, shaking my head.

  “I know. I can’t believe it,” Erin replies.

  “The guy might annoy you to death, but you gotta admit, that was pretty brilliant. I mean, he saw something you and I never even thought of.”

  “It was shockingly perceptive. It never crossed my mind to team up.”

  “We were both too focused on doing our own thing.”

  She nods. “We were. So we’ll talk to Connor and Natalia tomorrow morning about joining forces. Agree?”

  “Agree.”

  “I hope they like the idea.”

  “I think they will.”

  We look at each other and smile. We know it. We can make something better together than apart. And this weird revelation occurs to me: Has it always been that way? Only we never realized it before because we were too busy arguing over little stuff? It took Kowalski to point that out?

  “Well, see you in the a.m.,” Erin says.

  “Yep.”

  “We don’t have a lot of time, you know. We’re going to have to work quickly.”

  “We can do it.”

  She walks to her door, then turns back. “Yes. We can.”

  • • •

  The next morning, once we’re inside the atrium, we ask Connor and Natalia what they think about working as a team. It doesn’t take much convincing. They get it immediately.

  Natalia twirls a bracelet. “Makes absolute sense! We’re both trying to improve the school experience.”

  Connor pushes up his glasses. “So you’re saying we combine our projects somehow?”

  Erin opens her briefcase. “Yes, and that’s what we need to decide on. We have a desk on a stick and an assignment tracker device. How do we put them together?” She takes out a pile of papers. “I thought about this all night. I barely slept. More than two smaller things, we need a big thing. We basically need a brand-new take on the old, boring school-classroom environment. The way it’s been for a hundred years. Desks and notebooks.”

  Natalia’s eyes get wide, and she makes a small circle with her hands. “Wholeness!”

  “Yes,” Erin says. “I’m just going to run it by Jet, make sure it’s okay this late in the game.” She’s back a few minutes later. “Full speed ahead. Time to brainstorm.”

  For the next hour we kick around ideas about standing desks and virtual study aids.

  We talk about my desk-evator and chairs and stools and music stands. Connor shows us his Giga Pet, and we look at several homework apps. Erin summarizes her pages (and pages) of notes.

  “It can’t be expensive to make,” she says. “Schools have to be able to afford this.”

  “Good point,” Connor agrees.

  Natalia swirls a finger around her tablet screen. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Something simple, but effective.”

  Erin frowns. “But it can’t be too simple. It has to make an impact. A ‘wow’ kind of impression. The judges need to see its enormous potential right away.”

  “Just because something’s simple doesn’t mean it can’t have an impact,” Natalia protests. “In fact, it can have more of an impact.”

  “First and foremost,” Connor interrupts, “it has to work.”

  “On board with that.” I grin.

  “Simple,” Natalia repeats. “Like vanilla ice cream. Like a perfectly sweet orange.”

  Erin crosses her arms. “We’re not talking about food. This absolutely has to stand out. Get it, stand out? If not, we’re going nowhere.”

  “We don’t have to go anywhere,” Natalia replies. “Why is it always about that? All we have to do is invent something we’re proud of.”

  “Well, at the moment,” Erin snaps, “we’re not inventing anything. We’re going in too many different directions.”

  Jet floats by our table. “How are we, Z people?”

  “Good,” Erin quickly answers. When he drifts away, she goes, “We need to focus. Get it together.”

  That’s when it hits me. The bicycle. Simple, works, makes an impact. Yeah.

  “Hey, everyone, we don’t have to reinvent the wheel.” I laugh. “Inside joke. Anyway, we’ve all done a lot of work. What if we made my desk on
a stick like I planned, but we build your device into it? Like, there’s a slot where it clips into the top? Maybe like a charging station?”

  Connor’s face lights up. “That’s a really good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “I can completely visualize it!” Natalia says. “It’ll be the desk of the future.”

  Erin nods slowly. “That’s it. That’s totally it.”

  Connor smiles and grabs his laptop. “Now, this is what I call fun.”

  Natalia reaches for our hands. “I feel so Zen, you guys! It’s day four, and now we are four.”

  “The Four Innovators,” Erin says. “Or the Innovative Four. I like that better.”

  “Doesn’t matter what we’re called,” I say. “We need to make this. Now.”

  Connor powers up his laptop, and Erin powers up her mechanical pencil. Natalia holds her tablet on her lap. I stand in front of an invisible digital desk on a stick, imagining myself using it in Delman’s classroom. I envision the height, the size, where the device would be located on the desktop.

  Erin looks up at me. We nod at each other, and then the four of us huddle and get to work.

  With only a small amount of additional group-project drama (because how could we not have that), by midafternoon we pretty much agree on the concept. Natalia’s still dedicated to staying simple and Erin’s still obsessed with a big impact, but I take on the role of team ref. Someone’s gotta do it, right? Let’s just say they now know the signs for foul, time-out, and jump ball.

  With our input, Connor creates a virtual 3-D model. It’s a desk on a stand, with a tripod base and wheels. A movable top that slides up and down by twisting a knob. There’s a stool that unfolds. Side slots for materials. And a touch-screen tablet that fits into each to track the assignments, test dates, and homework, plus link to teachers’ web pages.

  If this isn’t the desk of the future, I don’t know what is.

  Erin claps a hand over her heart. “I love this. I love everything about it. It’s innovative, creative, solves a problem in a fresh, new, updated way. And kids will love using it, don’t you think?”