Here’s something a little different. And seeing as how my new book is told from the point of view of two teens, I thought it appropriate to share this little story again. Please, let me know what you think.
“I’m done for,” Jack told himself. “If I weren’t such a chicken, I’d take my bike out on the interstate until somebody ran over me.”
“What’re you mumblin’ about, Jerko?”
Rotten to begin with, Jack’s day had just gotten worse with the arrival of the last person on Earth he wanted to see, Myron “the Beast” Blatnik.
“Look at me, Jerko,” the Beast said. “I want an answer.”
Jack knew what he really wanted was an excuse to punch Jack’s lights out. And any excuse would do.
“It’s nothing important.”
“So, you got my grade fixed?”
There it was, the grade thing. If only Jack hadn’t opened his mouth; if only he hadn’t claimed he knew how to change data in a spreadsheet. If only…. “Yeah, about that,” he began.
“You didn’t do it, did ya?” More statement than question, the Beast delivered his opinion with a quick shove and a dose of halitosis, both well-known Blatnik trademarks.
“The thing is, I got caught,” Jack said, trying to hold his breath long enough for the Beast’s breath to dissipate.
The Beast showed him a fist. “You better not have ratted me out to Mizz M.”
“I didn’t. Honest. I told her I was just lookin’. I wasn’t trying to change anything.”
“Did she believe you?”
Jack shrugged. Mrs. Melchior could be a mystery sometimes, especially when it came to doling out punishment. The one she’d given him was clearly over the top. Super, extra over the top.
“At least you didn’t get suspended,” opined the Beast.
“That would’ve been a lot better than what she came up with.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“I’ve gotta play the part of Romeo in the year-end class play.”
The Beast laughed so hard Jack knew everyone in the whole school could hear him, and thanks to the magic of junior high physics, everyone would know exactly why he was laughing.
“C’mon, man. Gimme a break.”
The Beast struggled to control himself. “I heard Four Eyes is gonna be Juliet.” He doubled over once more. “Oh, that’s frickin’ awesome. I can’t wait to see you smoochin’ up 4E.”
“I don’t think that’s required,” Jack said, though he doubted his own words.
The Beast poked Jack’s sternum. “Just don’t forget to fix my grade before the end of the term.”
“You don’t think Mrs. Melchior will notice?”
“Ain’t my problem, Jerko. Do it, or else.”
Jack put in more hours than he cared to count in an effort to memorize his lines, but when it came time to recite them, he struggled. It didn’t help that most of the class had front-row seats for his mortification. And smack in the middle, where Jack could smell his rank, nasty breath, sat Myron “the Beast” Blatnik, laughing harder than everyone else.
4E, on the other hand, knew every line as if she were reading from a script. It wasn’t fair by a long shot. When Mrs. Melchior finally granted him a reprieve and ended the rehearsal, Jack wasted no time following his Juliet to her locker, hoping to learn her secret.
“How do you do it?” he asked the tall, dark‑haired girl whom everyone but the teacher called 4E. “How can you remember all this stuff?”
“It’s easy. Where I come from, everyone can do it. You just have to give the words a special look.”
Jack had no idea where she came from, but he was absolutely sure it wasn’t anyplace nearby. She had a vaguely Asian look, and one of his friends pegged her as, “Cute, but not Miss Universe.” Jack hadn’t formed an opinion about her since he hadn’t quite gotten into the whole girl and guy thing yet, much to the amusement of his alleged pals.
“That’s fine for you,” he said. “But what about me?”
“I guess you’ll just have to work harder.”
“Aw geez, 4E. I’m already workin’ overtime.”
She just shrugged and walked away, leaving Jack sad and frustrated. At least she didn’t seem to care about her nickname like some kids did. He figured that was because no one, including Mrs. Melchior, knew exactly how to pronounce her real name.
A few more days passed, and on the eve of the dress rehearsal, Jack concluded his situation was hopeless. He had even given serious thought to running away to someplace where nobody knew him. His overwhelming gloom drove him close to tears as he stood beside his locker and contemplated various forms of pain-free suicide.
“Wow,” said 4E as she sidled up to him in the hallway, “you look like you just received a death sentence.”
“Might as well have,” he muttered. “Every time I think I’ve got my lines down pat, somebody looks at me funny, or makes a joke, or sticks their tongue out at me, and then I can’t even remember what day it is.”
4E stepped closer to him and crossed her arms. “Since you’ve been pretty nice to me, I’ll do you a favor.”
Jack gave her his full attention. “What kinda favor?”
“If you can give me some kind of sign when you need help, I can give you your lines.”
“Sure. You could wink or something.”
Jack’s laugh held little mirth. “I can just imagine how everyone would react to that! They’d never stop laughing at me. Couldn’t I just rub my nose?”
“Based on the way it’s been going, you’ll rub it completely off by the time we get to the end of the first scene.”
Jack felt tears beginning to form. He had no intention of crying in front of a classmate, let alone a girl, but he had nowhere to hide.
“I’ve got a better idea,” 4E said. “At the dress rehearsal, whenever you need the next line, just start thinking of something really, really weird and specific.”
“Like Eddie Bogart’s funky ear?”
She shook her head. “Nah. It needs to be something nobody else is likely to think about.” Her lips twisted to one side as she gave it more thought. “How ‘bout pickles on ice cream?”
“What good is that supposed to do?”
“You’ll see,” she said. “Oh, and by the way, my name’s not Four Eyes.” She then uttered something that included two tongue clicks and a short, breathy whistle.
Jack decided he’d stick with 4E.
At the dress rehearsal, Jack donned his costume as if it were required for the guest of honor at a firing squad. Nervous sweat dripped from everywhere, soaking his tights and his short jacket. The only thing which stayed dry was the feather in his monumentally stupid hat.
Somehow he staggered out on the stage where 4E waited for him dressed in similar period clothing. But just as she had no problems with her lines, her costume looked great. In fact, without her big glasses, she was edging closer to Miss Universe territory, and he told her so.
Her smile made her look even prettier. “Now don’t forget what I told you to do if you forget something,” she said.
He couldn’t begin to imagine how thinking of something stupid‑‑like pickles on ice cream‑‑could possibly make any difference, but he agreed. Since he was about to perish on stage anyway, in front of everyone he knew, what difference did it make? On the plus side, by dying out there, Myron Blatnik would be deprived of his main goal in life, Jack’s torture.
Jack somehow managed the first few of his lines without difficulty, but he made the mistake of looking at the Beast squatting at the edge of the stage making faces at him. The curtain shielded Blatnik from the teacher giving him a clear line of sight to the actors. Suddenly, Jack couldn’t remember anything.
His skin grew clammy, and he began shaking and stammering. The worse he got, the more the Beast laughed. Jack stared at 4E in desperation.
She smiled and winked at him which seemed to break the spell.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on a huge bowl of fudge ripple ice cream with sliced pickles piled on top. Suddenly, he heard a voice in his head. It was her!
He opened his eyes to see if she was talking, but she was just smiling, and he could still hear her speaking his lines!
Jack looked around to see if anyone else heard her, too, but it seemed clear no one else could. Mrs. M had grown impatient; the other kids didn’t bother to try and hide their giggles, and the Beast grinned and gave him the finger.
Finally, Jack blurted out his lines, just as 4E had recited them to him.
From then on, with 4E’s help, he made it through the rest of the rehearsal. At the end, Mrs. Melchior complemented both of her star players. The other students, with the exception of the Beast, crowded around them, clapping them on the back and telling them how great they were. Jack even began to believe them.
Once everyone packed up and started leaving, Jack hurried to find and thank 4E as she stood beside her hall locker.
“How can I thank you?” he asked.
“I’m not saying another word until you call me by my proper name,” she said. “It’s–” She rattled off a few syllables punctuated with clicks and a whistle.
“I– I don’t think I–“
“Adios,” she said, turning away. She didn’t seem to notice the smattering of kids who had hung around to watch them.
“Wait,” Jack said and gave it a try.
“That’s close,” she said. “Try again.”
Despite the laughter and the noise of the other kids, Jack did give it another try. And then another. And another. Until he got it right.
“That’s it!” she said, her smile wider than ever.
Jack wiped his forehead. “Okay then. How can I really thank you?”
She didn’t hesitate. “A kiss will do.”
The gang surrounding them thought this new development was insanely funny, and they all burst out laughing, especially the Beast.
Jack merely hitched up his tights, cleared his throat and said, “That’s fine with me, Juliet.” Then he kissed her full on the lips.
It was a long kiss.
Some of the boys continued to giggle, but the girls in the crowd elbowed them into silence.
By the time they finished that one, long kiss, Jack’s world had expanded exponentially.
With his confidence restored and his fear under control, Jack managed to play his role quite convincingly to a girl he now realized he adored. As a result, they both turned in performances that could only be described as masterful, even for junior high schoolers.
Afterward, at the cast party, the Beast pushed his way between Jack and 4E’s newly found admirers. “Hey, Jerko. You finished with our other project yet?”
With 4E holding his hand, Jack didn’t flinch as he looked the Beast square in the eye. “Before I answer, I’ve got a question for you.”
“Do you like ice cream? I mean, as big as you are, you probably eat a lot of it.”
The Beast seemed to expand right where he stood. “So what?”
“What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Vanilla. What of it?”
“Stay with me now,” Jack said, ready to launch into the tactic 4E suggested before the show. She had seen the effect the Beast had on him. He stared hard at Blatnik. “Try thinking of that big ol’ bowl of vanilla ice cream just smothered in pickles.”
“Yeah. Give it a shot,” Jack said. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid.”
The Beast actually growled at him. “Yer in for it now.”
“Oh, puh-leeze. Just take two seconds to think about that ice cream with lovely green pickle slices sliding down on all sides. C’mon. Give it a try.”
4E squeezed Jack’s hand as she smiled, not saying a word.
Suddenly, the Beast looked nervous, and his face reflected a growing fear. He glanced from side to side as if seeking an excape route or an emergency exit.
4E continued to smile, while Jack held his ground and then, at the appropriate moment, cracked his knuckles.
With that, Myron “the Beast” Blatnik reached the breaking point and pushed his way back out of the small crowd.
“Catch ya later,” Jack called out after him.
The Beast didn’t respond.
Jack walked 4E home a short while later. On the way he couldn’t help but comment, “I still don’t understand what you did to him.”
She chuckled. “Once you got him to focus on something odd, I was able to put a suggestion in his mind.”
“What kinda suggestion?”
“He now believes you’ve got a black belt in karate and could break his arms and legs as easily as you destroy pine boards.”
“No kidding? I don’t know anything about karate.”
“You might want to look into it,” she said. “Just in case.”
Jack realized he’d been holding her hand the entire time they’d been walking, and when they reached her house, he was reluctant to let go. “This whole thing has been amazing. And I still don’t know how you were able to memorize your lines so well.”
“It’s easy,” she said. “Where I come from, everyone can do it.”
Her response sounded familiar, and Jack squinted at her. “Just where, exactly, do you come from?”
“Promise you won’t tell?”
“I come from the fourth planet orbiting the star Earth people call Alpha Centauri.”
Jack laughed. “No, really, where do you come from?”
4E wasn’t laughing. “That is where I come from.”
“Right,” Jack said, still trying to make light of it. “I thought all you space aliens were supposed to be green or look like reptiles or something.”
“Only in the movies,” she said. “Although we do have one thing that humans don’t have.” She pulled the hair back from her forehead to reveal a third eye. “Any time I need to remember something forever, I give it a special look.”