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Authors: Tommy Greenwald

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BOOK: Jack Strong Takes a Stand
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“And why not?” she asked, even though I think she knew the answer.

“Because I'm not getting up from the couch. Like I told you guys last night, I'm not getting up until you guys let me quit some of my stupid activities.”

“I'm going to call your father.”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

The lack of fear at the mention of my dad's name made her stop in her tracks. She came back and sat down next to me on the couch. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing.” I sat up next to her. “It's just that you always want Dad to do the dirty work, to be the bad guy and yell at me, or something. Well, he can't make me change my mind this time, and neither can you. I'm staying on the couch. I'll have Leo bring my homework, and I'll keep up with my schoolwork, but I'm staying here. And that's final.”

I waited to see what my mom would do. It was true that she was way too nice to ever get really angry at me, so she left all the unpleasant stuff to my dad (and then of course she got mad at him if he yelled at me too loudly). But this time I thought she might actually get mad at
me
, since I called her out on it.

Instead, she just sighed heavily, realizing she wasn't going to change my mind.

“Well, I guess it's okay, just for today. But what about when you're hungry? How are you going to get food? And what about when you have to go to the bathroom?”

“I've already decided—there are some things I can get off the couch for,” I said. “Like, to get food from the kitchen, and to go to the bathroom, and to charge my phone. And Nana and I talked about doing some exercises to the TV, while standing next to the couch, but that's it. Otherwise, I'm staying right here.” And I patted the cushion.

My mom smiled a little. “You've really thought this through, haven't you?” I think she might even have been a little proud of me, in a way. “Okay, fine,” she added. “I'll call the school. But we need to get all this figured out tonight when Dad gets home.”

Maddie somehow sensed that the situation was resolved—at least for now—and she jumped up onto the couch next to me.

“I know one family member who's happy with your decision, anyway,” my mom said, petting Maddie.

“Two,” said Nana, plopping down on the other side.

 

18

 

What a great day!

First, Nana and I exercised in the morning. (Yoga is incredibly hard, by the way.) Then I watched some TV, checked out some YouTube, played some video games, listened to music, read a little bit, took a nap, played with Maddie, had a delicious lunch, and went to absolutely no organized activities of any kind.

After lunch, my mom and Nana went shopping, so I had the house to myself for two hours. It was awesome.

Around dinnertime, I got a text from Leo: WHERE WERE YOU TODAY??

I texted back: LONG STORY. CALL ME.

Six seconds later, the phone rang.

“Dude, what's up? Are you sick?”

“Nope,” I answered, playing it cool. “Not sick.”

“Then what? Why weren't you in school today?”

I took a deep breath. “Because I'm staying on the couch and not getting up.”

“You're what?”

“I told my parents I'm not getting up from the couch until they agree to let me give up some of the stuff I'm always signed up for, like karate and Chinese and stuff like that.”

“Holy moly,” Leo said, getting right to the point as usual. “So you're on strike? Like that Polish guy?”

I'd told Leo awhile back about Charlie Joe Jackson, and how he'd been inspired to lead a mini-strike at camp after learning about this famous Polish activist Lech Walesa. Leo had one reaction—he couldn't believe a kid like Charlie Joe would ever be caught dead at a place like Camp Rituhbukkee.

“Yup,” I confirmed to Leo. “I'm on strike.”

He whistled into the phone. “Holy smokes. That is totally awesome!”

I smiled. “Yeah, thanks.”

“But, like, what about school?”

“Well, here's the thing,” I explained. “I'm actually going to need your help, because I still need to do my schoolwork. So you're going to have to get kids to take notes for me and bring me my homework and stuff. You can do it by e-mail, too, if you want.”

Leo was silent for a second. I think he had realized he could be considered a co-conspirator if he helped me, and he was trying to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“I can definitely do that,” he said eventually. “Tell me what you need.”

Good friends always come through in the clutch.

“Well, the first thing I'm going to need is for you to tell everybody what I'm doing,” I said. I imagined the faces on my teachers, and the kids, when Leo started spreading the news. Alex Mutchnik. Cathy Billows. Lucy Fleck. Wow, this was going to be intense. I almost wished I could be there to see it.

“Okay, then what?” Leo asked.

“Then, can you come over after school tomorrow to bring me my homework and stuff?”

“I can't,” he sighed. “I have to go to SERVICE.”

SERVICE stood for Student Encouraging Relief, Volunteering and Cheering up the Elderly. It was started by Lucy Fleck's older brother Damien—with a lot of help from his mother, I'm sure—as a way for kids to do community work to look good for colleges. It basically consisted of high school kids getting money from their parents to buy food at fancy stores and delivering it to nursing homes and hospitals in the area. Now the middle school kids were starting to do it, too.

Thank God SERVICE was one activity I didn't have to do, probably because even my dad thought Mrs. Fleck was crazy. Ever since she tried to establish a gifted program in nursery school, he didn't want anything to do with her.

“Okay, cool,” I said to Leo. “Maybe after SERVICE you can e-mail me some of the work, cool?”

“Totally cool,” he said. “What you're doing is so awesome. I totally wish I had the guts to do it.”

I heard the front door open. My heart started thumping.

Dad.

“I better go,” I said to Leo. “My dad's home.”

“Does he know what you're up to?”

“Not really,” I said.

Leo whistled again. “I'll talk to you tomorrow, if you're still alive.”

 

19

 

I heard my dad
put his briefcase on the floor. Then I heard his footsteps. He was coming my way.

Maddie jumped off the couch and left the room. She didn't want any part of what was about to happen. Neither did I, frankly, but I didn't have much choice.

Nana came in first. She always had my back.

Dad was right behind her.

“How was your day?” he said, trying to be nice.

“Awesome.”

“Great.”

He loosened his tie and rubbed his eyes. Looking at him, it occurred to me how tired he was, how tired he always was, and how hard he worked. I suddenly felt a little guilty for adding more stress to his life.

“You need to stop this nonsense,” said my dad.

“I will,” I said, “as soon as you let me drop some of my activities.”

“That's ridiculous,” said my dad.

“You're ridiculous.” Something about the last couple of days was making me a little too brave for my own good.

He looked at me like he didn't quite recognize me. “You're not quitting anything.”

“Who said anything about quitting?” Nana butted in. “It's not quitting if you stop doing things you never want to do.”

“Rose, stay out of this please!” my dad snapped. Nana looked shocked. At first I thought she was going to yell back at him, but then I think she remembered she was living in his house and backed off.

My mom brought my dad a beer, and he took a big swig. “I'll let you quit—sorry, give up—one thing,” he offered.

I shook my head. “You don't get it, Dad. I just want to do the stuff I like. I like the cello. In fact, I plan on practicing right here on the couch! And I guess I do like baseball, even though I'm not very good at it. But everything else, forget it.”

Dad shook his head slowly. “Well then, I guess we've got nothing else to talk about.” He got up. “Have a nice life on the couch.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I plan on it.”

I tried to eavesdrop on my parents and Nana while my dad ate dinner, but they shut the door. Afterward, my parents went upstairs to read and watch TV in their bedroom.

Nana stayed downstairs with me, got me some ice cream, and we played gin rummy, her favorite card game. After a while my mom came back down with my cello. “I heard you say you planned on practicing?”

“Tomorrow.”

Mom looked like she was about to leave the room, but then she stopped and turned back.

“You do realize how lucky you are, right?” she said. “How many opportunities you have, and how wonderful your life is, all because of how hard your dad works?”

“And how hard
you
work,” Nana said, looking at my mother.

I put down my cards. “I know, Mom.”

“There are families who would kill to have what you have,” she continued, bending down to look me square in the eye. “Ninety-nine percent of the families in the world, in fact. Please don't ever forget that.”

I tried to stare back at her but couldn't quite pull it off. “I won't. I promise.”

She kissed the top of my head. “Don't forget to brush your teeth,” she said, and headed upstairs.

Nana and I kept playing, but neither of us talked for a while. I think we were both thinking about what my mom had said. She was absolutely right, of course.

But that didn't mean I was wrong.

When I went to the bathroom before bed, I looked around the hall like I'd never seen it before. There was a nice family photo that I looked at for a while. There was a cool painting of a guy fishing. The light had an interesting glow. The houses across the street were interesting if you really stopped to look at them.

Then I peeked up the stairs. I could see the door to my room. I wondered how long it would be before I slept in my own bed again. I was tempted to go up and see if my room looked the same as it did yesterday, but I didn't. That would have been breaking the rules. My rules.

When Nana got up to go to bed, she kissed the top of my head, too.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asked.

I nodded. “I'll be here.”

She shook her head. “Oh, boy. This is going to get hairy.”

I turned out the lights and went to sleep.

 

20

S
TRIKE
—D
AY
3

The next thing I knew,
a bright light was shining in my eyes, and a scary voice was yelling, “Get up!”

I wasn't sure if it was a dream or not. I tried to open one eye. “What time is it?”

“Five o'clock,” said the voice, which I was slowly starting to realize was my dad's.

I rubbed my eyes and saw him standing there in his suit and tie. It was still completely dark out, but he'd turned all the lights on in the room. I realized this was when he headed out the door to work every day, and I suddenly felt bad for him.

“Are you waking me up to say goodbye?”

He pushed my legs off the couch and sat down. “No. I'm waking you up to tell you that if you don't go to school today, you'll be grounded for the entire summer.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I'll be grounded for the entire summer.”

My dad looked like he was about to yell, but he didn't. Instead, he just said quietly, “Jack, you are unbelievable.”

BOOK: Jack Strong Takes a Stand
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