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have been in fifth grade, but after a ten-minute coffee break (which included an unpleasant piece of fruitcake), the principal decided Jackson would be in sixth grade. They had more desks, you see. That was a ridiculous decision of course, but one makes ridiculous decisions when eating unpleasant cake. Wars have been known to break out over leaders eating dry sponge cake, and there is speculation that King Henry VIII had his fifth wife disposed of because she served him plain white cake instead of the raspberry he craved.

So Jackson didn’t really fit in at his new school. All of the other kids had known each other for a long time and Jackson was the new kid. And he was the smallest. He got picked last for games at recess. He made the baseball team only because they were short a player. And when he did play, I’m sorry to tell you, he was terrible. And he knew he was terrible.

Jackson loved to read. It passed the time at recess when he didn’t feel like being picked last that day. He

also loved writing stories. Oh, the stories he’d written! Jackson was always the hero, of course.

The unassuming hero who stepped in at the last minute to save the universe.

The unassuming hero who saved the entire village from a raging fire.

The unassuming hero who saved the cat up the tree, received a medal from the mayor, and got a thank-you parade that included those old guys who drove around in little cars.

The unassuming hero who could figure out algebra.

Chapter 4

A Chapter that Involves an Awful Mishap with a Kangaroo

Jackson! Time to get up!” his mother yelled from the downstairs kitchen.

Jackson slid out of bed. As he put on his jeans and a clean-ish shirt, he thought about what the day would entail.

Family reunion day meant that Jackson’s whole entire family (aunts, uncles, cousins, and all of their arms and legs) were coming over for a big party. He hadn’t seen them all in months! They would eat barbecued tofu dogs and bean burgers (his Aunt Gertrude had become a vegetarian after an awful mishap with a kangaroo, but we won’t get into that right now), fresh-cut veggies (obviously), baked potato chips (you got used to them), and baked beet risotto (don’t even ask).

They would play Hide-and-Seek and Capture the Flag and swim in the creek. At night they would sit around the bonfire, roasting tofu marshmallows and catch fireflies in their hands. They would squish their little glowing bodies between their fingers and smear the goop on their teeth and have glow-in-the-dark smiles.

Good times.

When Jackson came down to the kitchen his mom already had her anxious face on. Her hair was a big frizz ball, getting frizzier by the second as she stirred the beet risotto over the hot stove. His sister poured the baked potato chips into party bowls. A mound of vegetables waited on the counter to be cut up. Jackson’s sister looked up and stuck her tongue out at him. He scowled at her. What else can you do to a six-year-old? Actually, don’t answer that.

“Mom! Jackson’s making that face again!” she whined.

Jackson’s mom didn’t even turn around. “Jackson, quit picking on your sister.”

“But Mom, I’m not! She’s the one…” he protested.

“Look, it’s a really big day for everyone, okay? And we are definitely behind schedule. Just go upstairs and get your room ready for your aunt. You can cut the vegetables when you’re done.”

Jackson ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. But his steps faltered. He had forgotten.

Great-Aunt Harriett would be

…staying

…in

…Jackson’s

…room.

Chapter 5

A Very Hairy Chapter

Great-Aunt Harriett always made Jackson a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t because she wore funny dresses. It wasn’t because she smelled like mothballs. And it wasn’t even because she was “Oh-So-Very Old.” And she was “Oh-So-Very Old.” Jackson figured she was a hundred and twelve years old. Now that’s old. Especially if you’re a dog. Why, that’s seven hundred eighty-four years old!

No, it wasn’t the funny dresses, the mothballs, or being seven hundred eighty-four years old.

It was her hair.

Yes, you read that correctly: