After coming home from the grocery store, Jacob wanted to call Sarah and Dexter immediately to tell them about the man in silver, but his mother insisted on their usual Sunday Family Bonding Night, the rules of which were strict and exacting: No phone calls, texting, e-mails, or other distractions were permitted, and talking about what happened during the previous week was strongly encouraged. Jacob kept his mom company while she cooked a meal large enough to result in leftovers for the rest of the week, and after eating they always sat down to watch a movie together, although inevitably his mom would fall asleep on the couch and Jacob would end up watching the movie by himself.
His mom didn’t make it through the first fifteen minutes of The Iron Giant before she started snoring, and Jacob thought about sneaking out of the house to run over and tell Sarah and Dexter about the election, or at least sneak in a few text messages. But getting himself into trouble with his mom wasn’t something Jacob could risk. He didn’t imagine that the public responded favorably when presidential candidates were grounded by their parents. He needed a better plan.
There couldn’t have been many zoomecs remaining before the deadline when Jacob awoke on Monday morning and rushed to school. He arrived a few minutes early, and when he opened the door he saw Dexter studying alone in the classroom. Jacob still hadn’t gotten used to how much taller Dexter had grown lately. It was almost as if his parents put him through a stretching machine every morning to make him a few inches taller and a few inches skinnier.
“There you are…” Jacob said.
He handed Dexter one of his most valuable possessions, an immensely precious item that somehow only cost $9.99 plus shipping and handling, which he had charged to his mother’s credit card when she wasn’t paying attention.
Dexter looked at the label. “Sneezing powder? Oh no… No no no…”
“Dexter, the man in silver…”
Sarah walked into the room, staring at her cell phone. She was still wearing her shin guards from before-school soccer practice, and her face was red and sweaty. “Jake, is this true?”
Dexter’s parents had not allowed him to get a cell phone, in order to instill in him an appreciation for older forms of communication, like writing letters and getting out of your chair and walking down the street when you had something to say to someone. Unfortunately, this meant he was always the last one to know about everything. “What about the man in silver?” Dexter asked.
Jacob beamed. “The king nominated me for president of the universe!”
He had expected congratulations, but Dexter and Sarah just looked extremely confused.
“You?” Dexter asked. “No offense, but are you sure you’re… you know…” He held up the sneezing powder. “Presidential material?”
Sarah scowled. “Of course they’d nominate a boy. Of course they would.”
“Sarah…”
“The king doesn’t think I’m qualified to be president? You know what that is? That’s gender discrimination!”
Jacob snatched the sneezing powder back from Dexter. He should have known they wouldn’t think he could do it. “Fine,” he said. “I guess I’ll just have to prove my own friends wrong.”
Sarah and Dexter looked at each other and then back at Jacob. He started to storm out of the room.
Sarah took a deep breath and she caught Jacob’s hand as he walked by her. Jacob noted that it was the second and a half time they had ever held hands. “Sorry, Jake. Um. Congratulations.”
Dexter pointed at the sneezing powder. “Congratulations and everything, but really, what’s that for?”
Jacob let go of Sarah’s hand. “We need to find a spaceship quickly because we don’t have that much time left before I have to announce that I’m running. Subs must fly to Earth on spaceships, right? We find ourselves a substitute teacher and then we steal their spaceship. That’s the plan.”
“Okay…” Dexter said. “But we haven’t had a substitute all year. And Mr. Kruger doesn’t get sick. He won’t even shake anyone’s hand without using hand sanitizer.”
Jacob held up the sneezing powder. “Exactly.”
It was twenty minutes later when the first seventh grader sneezed. Mr. Kruger looked up from his roll sheet. “Robbie, please remember to always sneeze into your arm and…”
Robbie sneezed again. Mr. Kruger took a step backward. “Young man? Do you need to see the nurse?”
There were three more sneezes around the classroom and Mr. Kruger began retreating toward his desk for hand sanitizer. Soon there was a cascading of sneezes and Jacob felt tears in his eyes as he began sneezing as well.
“Sneeze into your arms!” Mr. Kruger yelped. “Sneeze into your arms!”
Sarah raised her hand and then spoke up over the mass sneezing. “Mr. Kruger, I saw this on WebMD! There was an alert about a deadly bird virus and the symptoms are sneezing and vomiting!”
The entire plan depended on Dexter. After several traumatizing periods of PE, Dexter had perfected the art of vomiting on command. Whenever he couldn’t bear the thought of changing clothes in front of eighth-grade Neanderthals he would ask to be excused from class because he wasn’t feeling well, then Ms. Martinez would say “Dexter, please don’t…,” and then Dexter would throw up into the nearest trash can. Jacob thought Dexter’s secret power was the most spectacular skill he had ever seen, and he finally had an opportunity to harness its limitless potential.
Jacob turned back toward Dexter, sneezed, and then nodded.
Dexter stood up and walked slowly toward Mr. Kruger’s desk. He grabbed his stomach. “Mr. Kruger, I’m not feeling so well,” he said.
Mr. Kruger held up his hands. “Dexter, stand back. Young man, please stand back!”
The mass sneezing was fading as the powder wore off. Jacob waited for Dexter to work his magic all over Mr. Kruger’s desk.
Dexter froze in his tracks.
“Dexter?” Mr. Kruger pushed back his rolling chair into the corner. “What is wrong with you?”
“I think Dexter is sick, Mr. Kruger!” Jacob called out. “I think he’s very, very sick!”
Just when they had reached the moment of truth, when the entire brilliant plan would come to its transcendent climax, Dexter instead hung his head and turned away from Mr. Kruger’s desk. “It passed.”
Jacob flushed with anger as the last sneezes rang out in the classroom. Another plan ruined by Dexter chickening out.
Suddenly the door to the classroom swung open and Jacob’s old sixth-grade teacher Miss Banks walked in. The last time he had seen her, he had been fleeing crazed substitute teachers on Planet Paisley. She had never returned to school, and while it was announced that she was taking a sabbatical, Jacob had a feeling it was because the route back to Earth was blocked by the space kapow.
Sarah gasped. “Miss Banks! You’re back!”
Mr. Kruger held up his arms. “Miss Banks! You’ve chosen a most inopportune time to return. This classroom is a biological hazard!”
Miss Banks looked around at the children, who had stopped sneezing, and merely looked confused. “Um, thanks for the tip, Richard. I just need to speak to Jacob, Sarah, and Dexter please.”
Mr. Kruger reached into his desk, pulled on a surgical mask, and eventually nodded.
Outside the classroom, the children hugged Miss Banks all at once. She looked exactly like they remembered her: short blond hair, glasses, and a wrinkled corduroy skirt.
“I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah shouted.
Miss Banks flinched at Sarah’s volume and looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Why yes, my personal leave was quite restorative and…” She was satisfied that no one was listening and leaned in. “Kids, they fixed the detour through the space kapow, and space travel to Earth has resumed. Jacob, have you heard the news? I’m so proud of you! My own student!”
Jacob smiled, but then looked sheepishly over at Sarah. “Yeah… but I’m not running unless I have my campaign managers with me.”
“Well, listen,” Miss Banks said. “You must be careful. Things between space and Earth are worse than ever. The situation is… well, I fear it may be dangerous. We’re counting on you children to make things right.”
Jacob nodded. “We’ll do our best.”
“Good! I’ve arranged for the spaceship Lucy to meet you in the forest near your houses after dark.”
“Lucy?” Dexter asked. “Couldn’t we have at least gotten Praiseworthy? Lucy’s so mean!”
Miss Banks smiled. “She told me to tell you that she was dreading seeing you children more than you could possibly imagine.”
