Jack Strong Takes a Stand by Tommy Greenwald Page A

talking, for some reason. “Do you think Dad is going to, like, hate me forever?”
    She put down her magazine. “Jack, you do know your dad loves you more than anything in the world, right?”
    â€œOf course I do.”
    â€œBut this is not easy for him,” my mom said. “He has very, very strong beliefs about how to best raise his only child. And now, he’s embarrassed on top of it. He’s becoming known, completely unfairly, as a crazy dad. People are starting to look at him funny, and people at work are poking fun at him. This is not easy for him, you have to know that.”
    â€œI totally know that.” After another second, I asked, “But why can’t he just let me quit some stuff? Why is that so impossible?”
    â€œBecause he’s your father,” my mom answered.
    I changed to the warrior position. Nana would have been totally impressed. “Well, what do you think?” I asked my mom.
    My mom sighed. “I think you’re both crazy.”
    I laughed. “That makes sense.”
    â€œI just hope I didn’t make a dumb decision by letting this TV show happen,” she said. “But maybe we need something crazy like this to help us figure things out.”
    â€œRight.”
    My mom got up. “I need to go pick up your grandmother at the station.”
    I decided to ask the question I’d been thinking about for the last two days.
    â€œWhen is Dad going to be home?”
    My mom stopped and looked at me. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it home tonight, honey. His meetings in Phoenix are still going on.”
    â€œOh,” I said. For some reason, I was disappointed.
    My mom could tell, of course, because that’s what moms do. “But he’ll be home tomorrow,” she said, “and everything will be okay. That’s a promise.”
    As she started to walk away, I found myself pulling her back toward the couch and giving her a hug.
    â€œWhat’s that for?” she asked, surprised.
    I looked up at her. “I guess just for understanding,” I said.
    My mom hugged me back, and neither one of us said anything for a minute. Finally she let me go.
    â€œIf only you were this dedicated to Chinese,” she said.

 
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    At four o’clock, two huge trucks rumbled up our little street and parked on our lawn.
    â€œWhoa,” said Nana, peering out the window. After getting home from the city, she’d spent most of the afternoon picking out an outfit.
    I’d spent most of the afternoon practicing my answers to imaginary questions.
    â€œYes, Brody, it’s great to be an inspiration to kids around the country.”
    â€œYes, Brody, I do miss school, and my friends, but it’s for a good cause.”
    â€œNo, Brody, I don’t have a girlfriend right now, but I’m definitely open to suggestions.”
    When I heard the roar of the trucks, I looked out the window. A huge guy with a beard hopped out of the first truck.
    â€œLet’s set up the stage right here,” he yelled to the rest of the guys.
    Stage?
    â€œUse the house as the backdrop,” he continued. “And get that tree in the frame, too. It’s pretty.”
    Soon, eight more guys jumped out of the trucks. Half of them set up a little path of metal sheets, and the rest unhitched the huge truck doors and started rolling off a bunch of giant steel planks.
    The next thing I knew, my mom was running outside at a full sprint.
    â€œExcuse me, excuse me! Hello? What is all this??!?” she yelled at no one in particular.
    When no one in particular answered her, she went up to the huge bearded guy, who seemed like he was in charge.
    â€œCan you please move these trucks? You’re ruining my lawn.”
    â€œSorry, ma’am, we need to unload the deck for the stage.”
    â€œSTAGE?!”
    The huge bearded guy looked down at her. “Are you Mrs. Strong?”
    â€œYes,”