by David Lubar
“Please don’t tease him,” I said. I knew there was no way they’d listen to me. I braced myself for his angry reply.
But as I held his gaze, his glare softened. I could feel him trying to hold on to his meanness. I answered this with a gentle smile.
“Mind your own business,” he told me. His tone was less angry, though there was still a slight edge of danger in his voice.
“How’d you like it if someone did that to you?” I asked.
He shrugged, and the tension left the air. It felt like a bomb had been defused. He turned to the others and said, “She’s right. We should leave the little kid alone.”
The others nodded. Much to my surprise and pleasure, they each apologized to the boy. Then they left.
The boy came up and hugged me. “Thanks,” he said.
“Sure.” I watched as he ran off, wondering exactly what had happened. It almost seemed like I’d helped the sixth-graders decide to be good instead of bad. But I hadn’t done anything. I hadn’t really said much. Just a couple words. A smile.
Still, if I could make people act better, that was wonderful. Anything that made the world a better place was good.
“Hey kid, get out of my way!”
I was jerked from my thoughts by the angry words a man was snarling at me. He was walking toward me carrying a bunch of packages.
“Come on. Move!”
I stepped aside. “Sorry,” I told him as he rushed past.
He just glared at me.
Wow. I sure hadn’t brought out his good side. Maybe I brought out whatever was deep inside people. The man might have had nothing but anger inside himself. Or maybe it was all my imagination. Either way, he’d sure been mean. There was never any excuse for being that rude and nasty.
I didn’t get a chance to think about it. Another wave of dizziness flooded over me. I felt like I’d just stepped off a very fast carnival ride—like the Tilt-A-Whirl—and couldn’t get the ground to stop spinning. I realized I needed to get off my feet before I fell. I spotted a bench by the curb just ahead. I staggered over to it and sat down.
But I wasn’t just dizzy. It was worse than that. “Not again,” I said as I felt the goodness start to drain out of me. My happiness flowed from my body like water from a shattered aquarium. I tried to fight the change. I tried to hold on to Jackie.
Think good thoughts. I told myself to think about good things. Sunshine … puppies … fresh strawberries …
The last thing I wanted was to become that awful Ms. Hyde again.
Nine
FUN IN THE MALL
Broken bones … war … diseases …
Wonderful images of awfulness filled my mind.
What a dreadful place this is.
I got off the stupid bench and looked around. The sun was glaring down on me. How annoying. And those noisy birds were screeching their annoying songs. How awful.
Ahead, on the corner, I heard a man and a woman arguing about something. I walked toward them, drawn by their anger like flies are drawn to a rotting piece of meat. The closer I got, the angrier they sounded. Wonderful. I stood near them as their shouts grew louder and louder. Finally, the woman spun away from the man and ran off.
The sounds of their fight lingered in my brain. I could almost taste the anger. I could almost touch the hurt and rage that lingered in the air. How marvelous. I looked around for more pleasure.
Perfect. A full supply of bad feelings rose ahead of me—Lewington Mall. There would be plenty of unhappiness and anger there. Children fighting with their parents. Parents yelling at their children. Kids teasing other kids. Lots of greed. Lots of envy.
It would be like a vacation for me. Or like a feast.
I walked inside and felt a wonderful wave of miserable emotions wash over me. Heads turned as I went past. People stared at me. I could understand that. I was beautiful. They all wanted to look like me. They wanted to know me. They’d die for a friend like me. Poor, miserable creatures.
The thought of their envy made me laugh. I wandered deeper into the mall, toward the center. On my left, a hardware store had set up a display of paint cans in a pyramid. I yanked out the bottom can as I walked past. The rest tumbled to the floor, making a wonderful clatter. People scattered as the cans rolled in all directions. I glanced back, pleased to see that nobody had stopped to help put the cans back on the table.
Just ahead, I saw a mother with a small boy. He was howling his head off, crying. She dragged him by one arm and told him how bad he was. The anger was delicious. I moved closer. The boy stared at me. His eyes grew wide and he howled even louder. I grinned at him. His face turned pale from fright. I followed them until they reached an exit.
Now what?
There. I knew those boys. A group of sixth-graders. Joey and his pals. Troublemakers. Perfect. I stayed where I was and watched them, eager to see what they would do. They were hanging out in front of the game store, laughing at anyone who looked different. Smirking and mocking. That was good, but I could get them to do even better. I walked over to them. All eyes turned to me. I leaned toward the leader of the group. His eyes locked with mine.
“Run wild,” I whispered. “Be bad. Have fun.” For a moment, I held my breath, not sure he would react.
Then he let out a whoop of delight and dashed down the corridor. His friends followed, whooping and screaming. They acted like monsters. Perfect. They’d strike fear into those around them. And then, after they’d spread panic and terror, they’d get in trouble.
What a wonderland the mall was.
I wandered for a while, testing my ability to bring out the worst in people. Some people were easy. They had so much anger inside that they were like overripe fruit, dripping juices at the merest touch, ready to burst forth with a fury that fed my deepest needs.
Others were harder. But nobody was so good inside, so wholesome and pure, that I couldn’t dredge out at least some small amount of badness.
Ah, speaking of badness, I caught sight of the perfect pair to suit my purposes—Lud and Bud Mellon, the two meanest kids in the school. They were walking down the corridor toward me.
And what was this? A little boy running toward me from the other direction. Maybe he was here on his own. Or perhaps he was lost. What could be more perfect? Time to feed him to the lions. The thought made me smile. As he ran past me, I glanced around to make sure nobody was watching. Then I stuck my foot out.
He tripped over my foot and went flying. With a high-pitched scream of terror, he tumbled through the air, then crashed into Bud Mellon’s legs.
It was so wonderful, I trembled in anticipation.
Bud glanced down at the tangled heap quivering at his feet. Lud glanced down, too. I licked my lips, already tasting the mindless flood of cruelty I had set in motion.
Ten
ON THE OTHER HAND
I watched with anticipation as Bud Mellon bent over and reached down toward the little kid. He extended a hand the size of a bear paw and grabbed the kid by the shoulder. A hand that big could crush anything that got it angry. This was great.
“You okay, little fella?” Bud asked.
“Yeah,” Lud said, kneeling down next to the kid. “You all right? You really shouldn’t run like that. You could get hurt.” He gently wiped a tear from under the kid’s eye.
The kid sniffled, then nodded. “I’m okay.”
“I got a little brother,” Bud said. “I hate it when he gets hurt.”
I turned away from the sickening scene, feeling so disgusted with their kindness that I wanted to throw up. Maybe I spun too fast. Everything got fuzzy. I hurried down the hall. That is, I tried to hurry. But I was so dizzy, I couldn’t walk straight. I stopped and leaned against a wall.
Goodness.
I felt awful as I thought about all the terrible things I’d just done. There was no excuse for any of it. I glanced over my shoulder. Lud and Bud, each holding one of the little kid’s hands, walked with him to the information desk. That was good. Th
ey’d help him find his mom.
As soon as I could take a step without feeling dizzy, I hurried back to the hardware store. There were still cans scattered on the floor, though most of them had gotten kicked against the side of the store by people passing by. I knelt and started straightening up the mess I’d made.
The mess I’d made?
Wait. That wasn’t right. I hadn’t made it. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t my fault. That evil, mean, and cruel person, Ms. Hyde, had done all the bad things. That wasn’t me. I was Jackie.
It didn’t matter. Someone had to take responsibility. Even if I hadn’t done anything, I’d still want to help whenever I could. It usually takes less time to fix something than to figure out an excuse for not helping out.
Someone knelt next to me. A lady joined in to help pick up the cans. I smiled at her and she smiled back. Then a man passing by with his daughter stopped. Before long, the whole display was back the way it had been. I thanked the other people and moved along, looking for any more signs of Ms. Hyde’s damage.
Ahead, I heard the sound of a gang of boys making trouble. I sighed and realized it was something I would have to deal with. I spotted them down the corridor. They’d taken a shopping cart from the market. Two of the kids were jammed in the cart, and Joey was pushing them, running through the mall at full speed. The rest of the gang raced along behind them. The mall had only two guards on duty. The problem was that the mall had five corridors coming out from the center. So it was hard for the guards to see everything that was going on.
The kids must have known neither guard was nearby. Or maybe they just didn’t care. But the way they were fooling around, someone would get hurt if I didn’t stop them. I moved to the center of the corridor and held out my hand.
“Stop,” I shouted. “You’ll hurt someone.”
They bore down toward me. But I knew they’d stop. I’d gotten them to stop before when they were picking on that little boy. All that had taken was a smile and a few words. I knew I could get them to stop again. They weren’t really bad. I wasn’t in any danger.
They got closer—close enough so I could see the face of the boy pushing the cart. When I got a good look at his eyes, I froze. There was a wildness in his gaze. It hadn’t been there before. Run wild. It was almost as if he was under a spell.
I thought about my other self. Ms. Hyde. She’d pumped the boys full of bad ideas and sent them running wild. Joey was out of control. If I’d had time to talk to him, to reason with him, maybe I could have stopped him. But there wasn’t any time for talk. There was no way to get him to listen to me.
I didn’t stand a chance. It was too late to get out of the way. My eyes squeezed shut as the cart reached me. In my mind, I saw the scientific equations that measured the force of a collision. F = ma. Force equals mass times acceleration. Any science teacher could tell you that. The faster something is going or the heavier it is, the more damage it can do.
But I didn’t need a science degree to figure out the bottom line: This was going to hurt.
Eleven
HANGING OUT
A force from another direction saved me. I was nearly swept off my feet as someone grabbed my right shoulder and tugged me to the side. I opened my eyes in time to see the cart rattle past, just missing me. The boys raced to the end of the corridor, where they met up face-to-face with one of the mall guards. He pointed to the exit and they slunk off.
“Thanks,” I said, turning to Dawn. “I think you just saved me from a bad accident.”
She shrugged. “It’s nothing. But why were you standing there like that?”
“I thought they’d stop if I asked them to,” I said. “I guess I was wrong.”
Dawn nodded. “I guess.” Then she smiled and said, “Listen, I was about to go home. Want to come over and hang out for a while?”
“Sure.” It would be a good idea to get out of the mall. It was really nice of her to invite me over, especially since she didn’t know me very well at all. But that’s the sort of girl Dawn was. The sort who was nice to strangers, and the first person to invite a new kid home. The sort who thought about others and always looked for ways to help. I suspected we had plenty in common.
We left the mall and headed toward her house. It felt nice to get out of there. It was a good place to shop, but it also seemed to bring out the worst in people.
“Thanks again,” I said to Dawn as we crossed the street. “You’re a good person.”
“I guess.” She sighed and shook her head.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Being good isn’t all that much fun sometimes,” she said. “People step on you. They take advantage and they make fun. It’s tough being good. I wish I had some other label. It’s always Oh, Dawn is so nice, or That Dawn is such a good girl. I get tired of it sometimes. I wish just once I could be bad.”
Wow. I’d never seen that side of her before. She’d been in my science class all year. But I’d always seen her as her teacher sees a student. And she was right. That’s how I thought of her. Nice Dawn who always smiled. Sweet Dawn, the girl who always behaved. Good Dawn, who did her homework and never made trouble in class. I had one advantage—I knew it was worth holding on to goodness as you grew up. I remembered some tough years when I was in school, but not counting my current problem, I had a pretty good life. “Listen, it might be rough now,” I told her. “But the older you get, the easier it will be.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
That was a question I couldn’t answer right now. If I told her, she wouldn’t believe me. “I just know. Trust me.”
“I hope you’re right. Hey—we’re here.” She pointed to the house on the corner. “You aren’t afraid of dogs, are you?”
“Nope.”
A very friendly collie greeted us in the yard. “That’s Newton,” she told me. “That’s Jackie,” she told the dog.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said, holding out my hand.
Newton offered his paw and we shook.
I followed her inside and down the hall to her room. A tall bookshelf and a dresser lined one wall. There were posters and two framed prints on the other walls. One print was a painting of water lilies. The other was a woman with a baby. I recognized the artists as Claude Monet and Mary Cassatt. Dawn had good taste in paintings. “This is very—” I stopped before I said the word.
“Very what?” she asked.
“Nice.”
Dawn laughed. “I guess I can’t get away from it, can I?”
I shook my head. “There are worse things to be stuck with.” That was sure true. I thought about Ms. Hyde. She was certainly a bad thing to be stuck with.
I noticed a table in the corner with a variety of objects on it. Dawn pointed over to it and said, “That’s my project for the science fair. Want to see it?”
“Sure.”
“My title is Vision and Perception.” She laughed. “That sounds like something Norman would say.”
I nodded in agreement. “But it’s okay to use a big word if that’s the right word.”
“Yeah.” Dawn pointed to one of the things she’d built for her project. “For example, that’s called a zoetrope. There’s no other word for it. At least, I don’t think there is. Unless you want to call it a picture thingy or a whatchamacallit.”
“Whatchamacallit’s a pretty big word, anyhow,” I said. I looked at the zoetrope. Dawn had done a nice job with it. It was a very early version of a moving picture. There was a cylinder with slits. On the inside of the cylinder, she’d put a series of drawings, like from a flip book. There was one drawing between each pair of slits. I bent over and looked through one of the slits, then spun the cylinder. The pictures appeared to animate, showing a chick hatching from an egg.
“Cool,” I said.
“Thanks.” Dawn picked up something else. “Check this out.” She handed it to me. It was a round wood stick with a file card attached to the end. On one side of the card, she’d drawn a bird. I turned it o
ver. On the other side, she’d drawn a cage.
“Put the bird in the cage,” she said.
I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to spoil her surprise.
“Here. I’ll show you.” Dawn took the stick back from me and twirled it between her palms. The card spun, showing each side quickly enough that my eyes saw both the bird and the cage. She’d put the bird in the cage.
“That’s great,” I said.
She showed me the rest of her project.
After that, we sat on her floor and looked through some of Dawn’s art books. No question—I was having a nice time. I probably should have been worrying about what had happened to me. However at the moment, there didn’t seem to be anything I could do. There was no point ruining a pleasant time by worrying.
But as the shadows crept through the sheer curtains of her bedroom window, I knew that I needed to move along. I couldn’t stay there. Sooner or later, she’d ask me questions I wasn’t ready to answer. I didn’t want to lie to her. I suspected I might not even be capable of lying.
“Thanks for inviting me over,” I said as I stood up.
“My pleasure,” Dawn said.
“Guess I’d better get going.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow?”
I nodded. “I hope so.”
Dawn went out the front of her house with me. As I was about to leave, she said, “You know, sometimes I envy the kids who misbehave.”
“What do you mean?”
“It must be nice to go through life without trying to do everything the right way. I can’t stand being late for anything. It would be so nice to be able to show up an hour late and not feel like I’d done something wrong. Or forget my homework and not worry about it.”
I just wanted to hug her and tell her that it would be okay. That it would get easier. And that the world would be a terrible place without people like her. I had a funny feeling that the kids she envied didn’t like getting in trouble. They were probably just as unhappy with their actions as she was. I reached out and patted her arm. “Dawn, you can’t change the way you are. Not the way you are deep inside.”
