His Game

Chapter 10: Jack

After eating and watching Elsa pick sorrowfully at her food, I come upstairs and put on my headphones, turning up the volume until my ears hurt.

I lay back on my bed, playing with the sleeve of dad's old leather jacket, when someone opens my door.

Iduna comes in, holding the house phone in her hand. I gesture towards my headphones lazily. She sighs and pulls on the cord, yanking them off.

"I knocked on your door over seven times," Iduna says reproachfully.

"I had my headphones on," I roll my eyes, "I couldn't hear you."

"Well, next time, let me know when you're going to put them on, so I know when you won't be able to hear me."

"Like that'll ever happen," I laugh.

Iduna sighs again, and holds out the phone to me. "It's your mother. She wants to say hello."

"I don't feel like talking to her." I scowl.

"She's your mother."

"Really? I have a mom? Cool!" I say with mock excitement.

"Just say hello, and then you can talk to Emma." Iduna gives me what I call a 'mom glare.' "Emma is the one who wanted to make the call in the first place."

I sit up and take the phone. I don't care about talking to mom so much, but Emma is something different all together.

"Hello," Mom says through the phone.

"Uh, hi." I say quickly, "Can I talk to Emma?"

"You don't want to tell me how things are going?" Her voice is laced through with hurt, but I don't honestly give a crap.

"Well, I hate everything and everyone here." I tell her, "Happy? Can I talk to Emma now?"

"O-of course." Mom sounds almost like she is going to cry, but I ignore her until the phone is passed to Emma.

"Hi, Jack!" Emma says.

"Hey, sis." I grin.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"I entered the science fair!" She gushes, "And you know what else?" This is how you talk to Emma. She'll start with a question, you'll answer with another question, she'll answer it, and then start with another question. You sort of have to keep going and let her talk.

"What else?"

"I made it to the district! I made it to the district!" Emma sings, "I beat all the big kids!"

"Wow! I can't wait to tell all my friends that my eight-year-old little sister beat a bunch of seventh graders!" I tell her.

Emma giggles. "I did my project on the lead levels in elementary schools I heard about on the news! Did you know that it takes years before lead poisoning actually kills you?"

"Really?" I say, even though I knew.

"That's why Galileo Galilei was able to keep working for all those years, even though the lead levels in the wine he drank already made it so he couldn't walk, see, or hold a pen!" Emma says smartly.

"Nice."

"I practiced every night, reciting it to Judy." Judy is Emma's pet rabbit.

"So, not only are you a science whiz, you're pretty up to date on your history, too." I laugh.

"Yeah. Mama wants to move  me up a grade." She sounds sad.

"You don't want to?" 

"Well, the fourth grade is scary. That's upper elementary school. And... " Emma's voice drops to a whisper, "Big kids are meanies."

"What?"

"Well, when you used to pick me up with Hiccup, they were too scared to say anything." She tells me, "But now that you're not here, the big kids call me 'Smarty-pants,' and 'Teacher's pet.'"

"Tell them to shut up, or else I'll go over there and knock their brains out." I say firmly, "And, if you want, I can talk to mom and see if I can start picking you up at three-thirty again."

"Really?" She sounds ecstatic. "Really, really?"

"Really, really." I laugh. 

Emma starts to say something, but she starts coughing. The coughs are wet and loud, sounding like they're tearing out of her chest. 

It seems to go on forever, but when it finally resides, I ask, "You okay, sis?"

"I'm fine." Emma says.

"Did you get sick again?"

Ever since Emma was three years old, she had gotten sick easily. It was easy for her to contract illnesses, especially pneumonia. 

"A couple of weeks ago. Mama said it was the flu, but it got worse."

"Pneumonia." It isn't a question. 

I already know.

"Uh-huh. They put me in medication for a while until I got better, and then I went back to school again." 

"Well, that's good. Stay out of the rain. Keep warm. You know the drill." I say.

"I know. And you know what?"

"What?" 

"I had to skip the field trip last week. Know why?"

"Don't tell me."

"Swimming." We say together.

"Hang on a sec." Emma holds the phone away from her ear, but I hear her say, "Yes, Mama?"

"What's up?" I ask.

"Mama says I have to go now." Emma sounds pouty, and I can just imagine her lower lip sticking out. "I don't want to, but she says I have to practice my piano."

"Oh. Have fun with that," I snicker.

"Stop laughing!"

I can't help it, and I laugh out loud. "Bye, sis."

"Bye, bro-bro."

The phone clicks when the phone hangs up, and I lay back on my bed, grinning. Even though Emma gets sick so much, she stays happy. Even when dad died, she didn't let the sadness kill her. The youngest person in the family was there for both me and mom when he left us.

The door creaks open.

"So," says Elsa quietly, "You do  have a heart."

"What the heck are you talking about?" I demand.

"When you were talking to your sister. You actually smiled, a real smile, not the fake one you do when you're arguing with someone." She says it like it's obvious.

"Well, maybe she's the only one I feel like smiling for." I snap, "And, anyways, what were you doing outside my door?"

"I was - we were - eavesdropping."

"Is that just an issue here? You and... Wait did I hear a we?"

"Elsa!" Anna cries from the hallway. "You promised you wouldn't-"

"Relax, firecracker." I roll my eyes. "I'm a person, not some dog who's gonna bite you... Unless you start annoying me. Then maybe I'll bite."

"Leave her alone!" 

I put my hand in my pocket where my phone is. "You leave me alone." I growl. Elsa sees the movement and flinches, remembering the video.

"F-fine." She whispers. "Just fine."

The door closes with a snap.