him to open up about a sore topic.
“Yeah, we’re close,” he sighed. “Lately, not so much.”
“I can’t stop thinking about what those boys said. It’s your dad, isn’t it? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Why not? Jack, I think it might help to get it off your chest. Have you been able to talk to anyone about it yet?”
“No.”
“Well, then I think it’s time you did.”
He felt a little intimidated by her forwardness. Coming to his apartment, marching confidently past his mother—that took guts. It wasn’t her moxie that made him relent, though. Before then, he’d never told anyone the real story, the whole story about his dad and what had happened the day of, ‘the incident.’ Before then, it had been all conjecture and gossip, peppered by little bits of truth, and the tale became weirder by the day. In the end, a rumor was circulating that his dad blew up the high school, created a mini-black hole somewhere in the science lab, and he, along with several students plus half the varsity football team, fell into some other dimension. And the whole time the rumors spread, Jack did nothing to set the record straight.
Until now.
SIX
BENJAMIN JAMES IS MY DAD. He’s one of the best Dad’s in the world, if not the best. No one else thinks so, though. They don’t care about what he’s trying to achieve. All they can see are the setbacks. They all think he’s a failure and, worse, a danger to himself and others. But I know better. I’ve been around him and his experiments all my life, and I know he’s not some wacked-out, mad scientist. He’s onto something. Something big.
To tell the story accurately, I have to go back to the day of the incident, a day which started out like any other. I went to school, Dad went to work, and Mom took my six-year-old sister, Lily, to kindergarten. It was such a normal, forgettable morning. Little did I know, later that day my whole life would change.
“Jack? Jack James?” Brenda Gloden stood in the doorway of Mrs. Adams’ classroom. She’s a fifth-grader who works in the office during the afternoons.
“Yeah?” I cringed at the sudden attention.
“It’s an emergency,” the gangly girl was ashen. “Your mother’s on her way. You need to come with me.”
I tried to worm some information out of Brenda. She stonewalled me. Mom was no help, either. Pacing the principal’s office, I’d never seen her try so hard not to be nervous. It made me even more terrified. I knew it was about Dad, and when Lily spoke up in her brash yet charming way, my suspicions were confirmed.
“Dad blew himself up,” she played with the zippers on her denim miniskirt. “Again.”
“Lily!” Mom scolded. “Stop it!”
“Well, he did,” she protested quietly, moving on to chewing the cuff of her delicate, white blouse.
“Let’s go,” Mom led us out the door.
“What happened?” I asked. In silence we went straight to the bus loading zone. The school let her park the Subaru up front. “Is Dad all right?”
I questioned her all the way to the car, but she didn’t answer.
“Get in. Hurry,” she buckled Lily into her safety seat.
I barely had my seatbelt on when she zipped out of the parking lot while pulling her long golden hair out of its pony tail. It was unusual because Mom’s really cautious when she drives, always getting on Dad for the slightest slip in speed or the smallest sharp turn. So when Mom drove that way, we knew something was horribly wrong.
“Mom, please. Tell me what happened!” I begged. She wouldn’t say a word. She was focused on the road, the traffic, checking her mirrors—all while speeding through town like a mad woman.
“I told you,” Lily seemed uninterested, though she’s always like that. “He blew himself up.”
I knew that could’ve meant any of a number of things to her. She’s been around Dad all her life. She’s used to his mishaps. We all are. Because of that, I’m not sure she
“Yeah, we’re close,” he sighed. “Lately, not so much.”
“I can’t stop thinking about what those boys said. It’s your dad, isn’t it? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Why not? Jack, I think it might help to get it off your chest. Have you been able to talk to anyone about it yet?”
“No.”
“Well, then I think it’s time you did.”
He felt a little intimidated by her forwardness. Coming to his apartment, marching confidently past his mother—that took guts. It wasn’t her moxie that made him relent, though. Before then, he’d never told anyone the real story, the whole story about his dad and what had happened the day of, ‘the incident.’ Before then, it had been all conjecture and gossip, peppered by little bits of truth, and the tale became weirder by the day. In the end, a rumor was circulating that his dad blew up the high school, created a mini-black hole somewhere in the science lab, and he, along with several students plus half the varsity football team, fell into some other dimension. And the whole time the rumors spread, Jack did nothing to set the record straight.
Until now.
SIX
BENJAMIN JAMES IS MY DAD. He’s one of the best Dad’s in the world, if not the best. No one else thinks so, though. They don’t care about what he’s trying to achieve. All they can see are the setbacks. They all think he’s a failure and, worse, a danger to himself and others. But I know better. I’ve been around him and his experiments all my life, and I know he’s not some wacked-out, mad scientist. He’s onto something. Something big.
To tell the story accurately, I have to go back to the day of the incident, a day which started out like any other. I went to school, Dad went to work, and Mom took my six-year-old sister, Lily, to kindergarten. It was such a normal, forgettable morning. Little did I know, later that day my whole life would change.
“Jack? Jack James?” Brenda Gloden stood in the doorway of Mrs. Adams’ classroom. She’s a fifth-grader who works in the office during the afternoons.
“Yeah?” I cringed at the sudden attention.
“It’s an emergency,” the gangly girl was ashen. “Your mother’s on her way. You need to come with me.”
I tried to worm some information out of Brenda. She stonewalled me. Mom was no help, either. Pacing the principal’s office, I’d never seen her try so hard not to be nervous. It made me even more terrified. I knew it was about Dad, and when Lily spoke up in her brash yet charming way, my suspicions were confirmed.
“Dad blew himself up,” she played with the zippers on her denim miniskirt. “Again.”
“Lily!” Mom scolded. “Stop it!”
“Well, he did,” she protested quietly, moving on to chewing the cuff of her delicate, white blouse.
“Let’s go,” Mom led us out the door.
“What happened?” I asked. In silence we went straight to the bus loading zone. The school let her park the Subaru up front. “Is Dad all right?”
I questioned her all the way to the car, but she didn’t answer.
“Get in. Hurry,” she buckled Lily into her safety seat.
I barely had my seatbelt on when she zipped out of the parking lot while pulling her long golden hair out of its pony tail. It was unusual because Mom’s really cautious when she drives, always getting on Dad for the slightest slip in speed or the smallest sharp turn. So when Mom drove that way, we knew something was horribly wrong.
“Mom, please. Tell me what happened!” I begged. She wouldn’t say a word. She was focused on the road, the traffic, checking her mirrors—all while speeding through town like a mad woman.
“I told you,” Lily seemed uninterested, though she’s always like that. “He blew himself up.”
I knew that could’ve meant any of a number of things to her. She’s been around Dad all her life. She’s used to his mishaps. We all are. Because of that, I’m not sure she
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