Noah's Family

Noah was large for a nine-year old, and that was not always an advantage, he thought. Last year, when he had his tonsils taken out, the boy in the bed next to his weighed 48 pounds; Noah weighed 84. Since then, without his tonsils, he had grown at a terrific pace. The doctor had warned his parents that if he didn't slim down, he would soon have to be put on a diet, but not at age 9. He'd face that when he came to it, he reflected. He was tall, and his mother said maybe it would all even out in a year.

He missed his mother terribly. Both his parents were in the military, and circumstances had them both posted to different places at the same time. Noah's mother was a nurse at Ramstein Air Force Base in Germany, treating wounded soldiers. His father worked in intelligence in Afghanistan. Circumstances. Noah didn't like that word very much. He worried about them both. He was staying with his grandmother and going to school in Stuart, Florida.

His grandmother gave him the bedroom that had been his father's, and it still had some of his father's things. There were two miniature suits of armor that were bookends. He knew his father called them "Christian," and "Faithful," though he didn't know why. In the chest of drawers there was a spin top, a yoyo, a beat up old Frisbee, and, in a drawer all by itself, a mysterious box wrapped in brown paper. He asked his grandmother about it, and she said she didn't know, but it must have belonged to his father, and he could open it if he wanted. He wasn't sure if his father would want him to.

Noah didn't have friends in Stuart yet, but he was used to being the new boy at school. Some kids made friends with you, others tried to pick on you. He hoped he wouldn't get picked on. That just got complicated. Back home he had argued with Aiden Toogood about the military. Aiden punched him. Noah hit back, and Aiden ran crying to his parents. It was no use explaining that Aiden hit first. "No one will ever understand when a big boy hits a smaller boy," his mother said. It was hard to figure that out. What if Aiden hits me again? he wondered. His father wanted to help explain but what he said made it even more confusing. "Don't worry about him," his father had said, "his parents are pacifists with axes to grind." Pacifists. Another word like circumstances. He had looked at up. If they liked peace, why did they punch? And he didn't understand about grinding the axe.

As he rounded the corner to Jensen Elementary, he saw one of the girls in his class being bullied by two boys. He hadn't met her, but he knew her name was Chloe. "Hey, cut it out!" he said.

"What are you going to do about it if we don't, Noah Fatso?" one of the boys taunted.

Noah got an idea. "Well, if I hit you, which I could, you'll just run crying home to your folks. They'll tell my grandma, and she'll say a bigger boy shouldn't hit a smaller boy like you. So I guess I'll just sit on you instead. No one ever said I wasn't allowed to do that."

A crowd had gathered. Some of them told the bully boys to stop and most of them thought Noah's remark was right on. "Do it, Noah! Sit on him! That'll teach them." The boys walked away from Chloe. Two of her friends ran to her and walked with her into the classroom. Two of the boys said, "Way to go, Noah!"

Back in his father's room Noah took the box out of the drawer. Ocean the blue-eyed cat stared at it intently, then tried to claw the paper. Ocean liked paper, loved the sound of it. "Okay Ocean," he decided, and tore the paper away. Inside the box there was only a boomerang, and the handwritten word "Operation." Noah realized it must be top secret. He closed the box quickly and put it in the drawer with the paper. Need to know only, he said to himself. Grandma doesn't need to know.

There were hot dogs for supper and that suited him fine. Grandma answered the phone, seemed uncertain, listened for a bit, said yes, and yes that would be fine. "Did something happen before school today?" she asked slowly. "Something you want to tell me about?"

No point in hiding it, and anyway, he'd done nothing wrong. Threatening to sit on a boy is not the same as actually doing it, he reasoned, and he gave his account.

"You did well," Grandma said. That was Chloe's mother on the phone. She asked if you could go on a picnic with them tomorrow to Jensen Beach. I said yes. It's a good chance for you to see other things and meet young people. "By the way," she continued, "what did your father teach you about fighting?"

"He said a big boy should never hit a smaller boy because no one will understand."

"Hmmn," she pondered. "If that's what he taught you, then bear that in mind. It's not quite what your grandfather told your father."

"What did grandpa say?" Noah asked excitedly.

"He said, 'Don't fight unless it's absolutely necessary, but if it is, strike first, strike hard.' Your father's in intelligence, but your grandpa was a ground pounder."

That made sense to Noah. "Thanks Grandma."

He fell asleep that night with Ocean stretched out beside him, then, was it a dream or was he still awake? He seemed to be in the same room, but it was a bit different, and a bit bigger. Ocean was wide awake and staring at him. There was music or something like it playing in the closet. He opened the door and saw the strangest looking person, like a leprechaun in a military uniform.

"Hold it right there," the small soldier said. "What's the name of the operation?"

"The operation?" Noah asked, bewildered.

"Yes," the soldier repeated. "What is the name of the operation?”

Noah thought for a moment. Ocean looked at him meaningfully. "Boomerang?"

"That's the name, in you go!" and he was ushered through the closet door into a colorful theme park. It had a monorail and he got on board. Noah loved the monorail.

A lady who looked quite a bit like his grandmother sat beside him. She handed him three tickets. "If you earn these, you can trade them for three things you really want. But choose carefully. Only three things. Actually you've earned the first already. What do you wish for? Close your eyes and say it."

Noah didn't hesitate. "I wish for my parents to come home."

The lady said patiently. Two people, that's two tickets. You've only earned one. Pick which one you want home first.

This was a very hard question, but Noah reasoned that his father was in much more danger than his mother. "My dad," he said finally.

"So be it, back to bed," she said, and he awoke with Ocean by his side, the sunlight streaming in the window.

He dressed quickly and went downstairs, thinking about what he had dreamt. Grandma was finishing a phone call. She smiled broadly. “Your father’s coming home!” she said excitedly. “They’ve kept the withdrawal secret, but they’ve started and his group is coming first. He’ll be here the day after tomorrow!”

Noah could hardly believe his ears. The dream was true!

Grandma said she had to tidy the house for his father. Noah offered to help. She said he had a picnic to attend. He said not until noon hour. And he set about following her instructions. She said she was grateful, because her knees were not what they used to be, and asthma made it harder for her to work.

The picnic was a treat. The water was beautiful, plenty of room on the beach. Chloe's father said he thought the boys would cause no more trouble. Bullies are basically cowards, he said, and once confronted, they back away. Chloe was easy to talk to, and her parents were interested in his family. They admired that his parents were in the military. Noah guessed they were not pacifists. Chloe’s mother was a doctor, and she said she would phone his grandmother to offer her some advice if it would help.

Back at home he continued with cleaning and tidying while he told his grandmother about the day at the beach. Chloe’s mother called, and Noah’s grandmother was astonished as she got off the phone. “Medical help is so expensive, and she will see me for free. She said it’s possible there’s an easy solution for my asthma, and maybe a brace for my knee.”

Sunday brought more big news: a virus outbreak at the hospital in Ramstein. Most of the American personnel were being evacuated, including Noah’s mother. She was coming back to the States. Both wishes granted. Sunday night, tired as he was, he thought about the theme park in his closet, and hoped he could travel there in a dream. In fact, as before, he woke with Ocean beside him, listening to the sounds of the closet. This time he was allowed in immediately and the lady who looked like his grandmother was right at the entrance.

“Noah,” she said. “Have you realized?”

“Both my wishes have come true!” he exclaimed “And I want to tell you my third wish.”

She looked puzzled. “What is that?” she asked.

“To meet a new friend,” he said confidently.

“I see,” she smiled. “And have you understood about the boomerang, Noah?”

It was his turn to look confused. “No, I haven’t” he admitted.

“What does a boomerang do?” the lady asked.

“You throw it, and it comes back to you,” Noah answered.

“Exactly,” she nodded. What you do, or put out, or even give away, is returned to you. Is it not so?”

Noah gave himself time to consider. “I hadn’t thought of it,” he began, “but yes that’s right.”

“Good,” she said, then I think you must know that you have already earned your third wish and it has come to you.”

His eyes widened as he understood what she was saying, and he woke up with Ocean at his side.