25

 

I forgot how awesome outside was.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the trees were rustling, and the coolest kids in the grade were in my yard playing coed touch football, with me as automatic quarterback.

It turns out that coed touch football is really fun, especially when you never have to get up from the couch.

“Hike!” I hollered, standing on the top of the cushions. My receivers, Baxter and Cathy, went out. I saw Baxter streak by Kevin Kessler, who was obviously still a little hampered by the fact that a three-hundred-pound couch had been dropped on his toe.

I threw a somewhat pathetic spiral to Baxter’s shoes, but he was so athletic that he grabbed it easily.

“Touchdown!” he screamed, accepting a hug from an auburn-hair-swirling Jenny Zeilinsky. He headed over to me for a high-five, just as my phone rang.

“Dude, you are seriously popular all of a sudden,” Baxter said, pointing at my phone.

He had a point. I’d gotten a bunch of phone calls from people who had either read the article, heard about it from other kids, or seen it online.

The weirdest call was from Dr. Steckler, who was my mom’s podiatrist. “I wish I’d been brave enough to take a stand against my parents, like you did,” Dr. Steckler told me. “I never would have gone to medical school.”

That made me think that maybe Mom should get a new podiatrist.

I checked the caller ID. UNKNOWN, it said. Great. More small talk with a stranger.

“Hello?” I said.

“Is this Jack Strong?” said a voice that was immediately familiar.

“Yes?”

“The Jack Strong?”

“Do I know you?”

The voice chuckled. “I sure hope so. If not, I’m not doing my job right.”

Wait a second. Could it be? It sounded exactly like—no way—

“This is Brody Newhouse.”

It was.

Brody Newhouse was a pretty big deal. He was the host of Kidz in the Newz, a local TV show that was on every Wednesday night, where he interviewed kids from the area who had done something interesting that got people talking. A lot of people watched it.

“Um, really?” I managed to stammer. “Brody Newhouse?”

He chuckled. “That’s right, kid. The one and only. Hey, listen, part of our job is to keep an eye on all the local school newspapers. When we saw your article, we thought you’d be great for our show.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Me, Jack Strong, on TV?

“I don’t get it, Mr. Newhouse. Don’t you usually have kids on who, like, pull a dog from a burning house or save a drowning lady or something?”

“Call me Brody. And, yes, that’s true. Many of our guests have done something brave. But what you’re doing is equally courageous. You’re standing up for kids everywhere. By sitting down!” Then he laughed that Brody Newhouse laugh that I’ve heard in my living room about sixty-two thousand times.

“Wow. Um … I don’t know what to say, Mr. Newhouse.”

“It’s Brody!”

By now the other kids had realized this was a different kind of phone call than the others, and they all gathered around to try and listen in.

“Brody Newhouse,” I silently mouthed to them. “I swear.”

“NO WAY!” yelled Kevin Kessler, who had officially forgotten about his wounded toe.

Brody laughed again. “Sounds like you’re having a bit of a party there. Celebrating a little bit?”

“Kind of, I guess.”

“So here’s what I’d like to do,” he said, suddenly turning serious. “I’m going to want to come up there and see exactly what’s going on. How long have you been on that couch?”

“Five days,” I said, suddenly realizing how puny that sounded.

But Brody didn’t think so. “Five days on the couch? Holy moly, how have you not gone crazy?”

“Sometimes it gets a little boring, but basically it’s been good.”

“What do you do all day?”

“Oh, you know, read, watch TV, do some exercises, hang out with my grandmother, stuff like that.”

“What about the bathroom?”

“That’s the one time I’m allowed to get up. And for food, sometimes.”

“And your parents still haven’t let you drop any of these activities?”

“My dad is pretty stubborn, I guess.”

“And so are you,” said Brody Newhouse. Then he whistled. “Son takes on father! Takes a stand by taking a seat! Overscheduled kids unite! This is golden!”

Cathy Billows elbowed me in the ribs. “What’s he saying? Is it really him?”

“Sshhh!” I snapped. Wow, I was shushing Cathy Billows. The world was officially upside down.

“My friends can’t believe it’s really you,” I told Brody. “This is so cool.”

“Well, tell them it’s really me,” he said. “And if it’s okay by you, I’d like to come by Monday around five.”

“My schedule is wide open,” I said, which made him howl with laughter.

“I love this kid! I love him!” He put his hand over the phone, but I could still hear him say, “Shaina, I need to be at this Strong kid’s house Monday at five. If all goes well and he’s the real deal, we’ll put him on Wednesday’s show.” He returned to me. “Okay pal, see you Monday. No friends hanging around, I’m afraid. Just you and me. Don’t want a circus.”

“Yes, Mr. Newhouse,” I said. I could tell he was about to hang up, so I added, “Oh, just one more thing.”

“What’s that, kid?”

I held out the phone so I could say it just as much to my new friends as I could to Brody Newhouse.

“I’m the real deal.”