Jacob Wonderbar and the Cosmic Space Kapow Read Free

especially important meeting.
    Jacob wasn’t exactly sure what his mom did at work. It had something to do with people trading gasoline, only it wasn’t gasoline you could buy at a gas station, it was sort of like gasoline you could buy in the future. They didn’t have a bunch of barrels of oil in their garage or anything like that; it was all done on computers. When people asked his mom what she did for a living, she said “commodity futures trading,” but Jacob could tell that most adults didn’t really know what that meant either.
    It was silent in the car, and Jacob couldn’t bear it. He said quickly, “I know. You don’t want to say anything you’ll regret later. I understand.”
    Jacob’s mom didn’t say anything, and he wondered what unspeakable thoughts were running through her mind. He knew from past experience that he had a fifteen-minute reprieve until they arrived home and she had calmed herself down enough to lecture him with a reasonably level head. He started mentally outlining his opening statement.
    â€œThen why am I here picking you up at school?” she said. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t drop everything at work every time you act up in class.”
    Jacob froze. It was a surprise attack. He had no choice but to opt for complete denial. “Mom! This one wasn’t my fault!”
    Based on the skeptical look on her face, Jacob knew that his mom was remembering the last time Jacob had insisted that a visit with Mr. Bradley wasn’t his fault. That incident had involved a great deal of glue, a handful of feathers, and a teacher’s bottom, and had been, in fact, 100 percent completely Jacob’s fault.
    â€œOkay,” Jacob said, “that time with the feathers was me. But this time I’m innocent!”
    â€œJacob . . .” his mom began.
    â€œNo, I’m serious! This time it was Sarah and Dexter. I promise.”
    â€œI don’t believe you.”
    â€œMom!”
    â€œHow am I supposed to believe you, Jacob? Honestly. After the last two years of you acting up and getting into trouble at least once a week, tell me, why would I believe you when you say an incident at school isn’t your fault? I’ve had to replace three sprinklers in the backyard because you ‘accidentally’ hit them with your baseball. Are you also going to try and tell me you weren’t using them for target practice?”
    Jacob leaned back in his seat. She had played her hand well. It was wildly improbable that anyone but him could have destroyed a fire sprinkler with a well-aimed baseball in order to douse an evil substitute.
    â€œDid you or did you not promise that you would stop getting into trouble?”
    He nodded solemnly. “That is a fair question.”
    Jacob’s mom pursed her lips together, but then she smiled despite herself. “Listen to you. You know, sometimes you take after your father a little too much for your own good.”
    Jacob turned away and looked out the window. He picked at the plastic on the door handle. “I don’t want to talk about that person.”
    Jacob’s mom stopped the car, reached over, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Jacob, I’m sorry. That was a loaded thing to say.”
    He kept staring out the window and wondered if his mom knew how much he thought about his dad since he had moved to Milwaukee. “I don’t want to be anything like him.”
    â€œWell, the good thing about the world is that you can be whoever you want to be. You don’t have to be like your father. But until you’re eighteen years old you will follow my rules.”
    Jacob’s mom suddenly clenched his shoulder and made him look her in the eye. “Listen to me carefully,” she said. “This is the last time you will get into trouble and I mean that very sincerely. You are officially not allowed to have any fun until I say you can have fun