Chapter 40
George

I peer through the zoo gates as Jack drives away with his family. We wave to each other the entire time. When the car becomes too tiny to see, my arm flops to my side. He’s gone.

He said I matter, though. And I know he believed it. Which makes whatever happens to me next a little less scary.

I could follow him, but I don’t. Jack needs to be with his family, and I need to get to know my new family. Clearly, I have some communication issues to work through with Wendla.

I reenter the zoo pavilion and sit on Jack’s and my bench, where I can watch the people go by. Most rush past, eager to get to the next animal, but some stop and stare, and one or two even smile. I’m sure they’re not actually looking at me, so I don’t smile back. Instead my mind wanders to the adventures I just had with Jack and the ones I wish we’d had before we parted ways again.

The next thing I know, the worlds start to blend. There Jack and I are, walking across a tightrope over the bubbling lava of a volcano below. Here we are again, racing through the local grocery store to escape the pursuing pirates led by our archnemesis, Captain Sterling Silverstein, who has stolen the Great Macaroni’s magic wand! With each new image, my grin gets wider and wider. Just as I’m picturing poor Uncle Chester as a damsel in distress, tied to a tree while Jack, Wanda, and I creep through the thick jungle foliage, a figure sits next to me on the bench.

I’m brought back to reality and am shocked to see—“Jack’s dad?”

He looks straight ahead.

“I just wanted to thank you,” he begins.

Me? What does he want to thank me for? I can’t even imagine. I don’t want to argue with a grown-up, so instead I just say, “You’re welcome.” He still hasn’t looked at me, and to be honest, I’m not sure he’s even talking to me, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around.

“For helping Jack.”

We sit side by side, neither one saying a word. Before I know it, my mind is off again. This time, Jack, the mysterious gopher lady, and I are swinging through the trees with some newfound monkey friends.

Jack’s dad rises and crosses to the walrus exhibit. His hand rests on the top of the fence as he peers down. “Take care of George,” he instructs my family below. His voice breaks as he adds, “For Jack.” He pats the glass twice, and the next thing I know, Jack’s dad is gone. I can’t help but wonder if he was even here to begin with. I hoist myself off the bench and waddle toward Uncle Chester’s exhibit.

There’s a crinkle as I step. I reach into my pocket and pull out both halves of the runaway, torn, once-drenched and disintegrating, now hard and crusty poster. Have you seen this person?

Neither Jack nor I need this anymore. I proudly stride to the recycling bin, finally able to complete the task. It should be easy, but my hand clutches the sheet, hovering over the bin, refusing to let go.

I know Jack said I matter, but I still can’t shake what he said about being real. Without Jack, I was invisible. But if I hadn’t left Jack, I never would’ve found my family or learned I was magic at all. That was all me, and it’s kind of amazing. Fantastic, if you ask the Great Macaroni! I found me. I was lucky.

But what about the others? The ones who flashed into my mind on the cartoon bus. The mop man. The gopher lady’s sister. I’d be a fool if I didn’t realize what they were. What I am.

I close my eyes and will myself to disappear one last time. When my eyelids peep open, the zoo is gone, replaced by the wiggly rainbow world of forgotten friends.

The brontosaurus in galoshes is still waiting on the street corner, afraid to cross.

A bus pulls up and stops right in front of me. The frazzled gopher sister, Miranda, exits, followed by my pal, Old Mopsy.

“George?” Old Mopsy says, rather stunned to see me. “In and out with this one,” he tells Miranda, not even trying to sop up his jealousy.

I reach out and touch one of his floppy hands. It’s soggy, which shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. “You’re fantastic,” I tell him. “And I believe in you.”

The place where his brow should be scrunches up, ringing out a bit of water. “What?” he asks, as he slowly fades from view, disappearing from this pretend rainbow world and returning to the real one, where he belongs.

I turn to Miranda. Her mouth falls open. Before she can even ask where Old Mopsy went, I say, “Your sister is something else.”

She tilts her head.

“No, really,” I say, so she doesn’t confuse it for a compliment. “What is up with the bossing and the ballooning?” Miranda snorts. I reach out and touch her arm as well. “You’re something else, too. And I believe in you.” As she also evaporates, I call out, “Now go find your sister!” I hope she hears me. I hope she finds her.

I look at the dinosaur, almost about to take a step forward, his shaking leg hovering above the crosswalk. “I believe in you, too, Buster. That you can cross the street, and that you are a truly wonderful being.” Slowly, I walk down the street, telling the talking houses and the flying mice and the four-headed barbershop quartet and everyone I see that they are wonderful. That they matter. And that I, George, will always believe in them.

One by one, they fade from view, until this rainbow world is a colorless void. My work is done. I close my eyes and again recall how much I matter, tapping my heels together three times for dramatic effect.

My heart jumps as I hear some kids laughing. I open my eyes and find myself back at the zoo. I notice a brontosaurus in rain boots making quite a stir with some kids near the reptile house. Over by the restroom, a janitor opens a supply closet door and grabs a mop. He yelps when the mop seems to grab him back. A smile spreads across my face. I did it.

Buster takes a liking to one particular girl, and they walk off together. I’m so excited for the fun they’re going to have. It makes me remember all the fun Jack and I used to have.

Studying the poster, which is somehow still in my hands, a brilliant idea pops into my head, as if by magic. “Or should I say, the fun Jack and I will have,” I murmur to myself, before dropping the poster into the recycling bin and dashing off to Uncle Chester’s place so that the Great Georgini can perform his last, most amazing trick of all.