Davidicus, First Emperor of Earth

Mr. and Mrs. Davis walked to the door with smiles on their faces. They looked right at Earnest and said, “Now, you listen to your brother and sister while we’re gone. We’re putting them in charge.”

Earnest frowned, pouted, and crossed his arms.

“Why do I have to listen to them?”

“Earnest!”

His face tightened and his arms squeezed more and more around his own chest.

“Earnest J. Davis!”

His arms dropped. His face loosened, but he was still upset.

“When I get older, everybody will have to listen to me.”

He didn’t say it out loud, but his mother heard him say something.

“And no mumbling.”

The door closed and Mr. and Mrs. Davis drove away, leaving Johnny and Molly in charge.

“Earnest, go clean the table,” Johnny said. Earnest was the only one to leave his plate on the dinner table.

“You’re not my daddy. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Mommy and Daddy left us in charge.”

He grumpily removed his plate and put it in the kitchen sink.

“Earnest, go put your toys away,” Molly said. He always left his toys where people could step on them.

“You’re not my mother. Mommy is my mother.”

“Do you want me to call Mommy? I can do it right now.”

He reluctantly put away all of his toys.

“I’m sick and tired of people telling me what to do. I can’t wait until I can tell people what to do.”

Earnest went to bed that night pouting and crossing his arms.

The next day at school, the children were playing games and playing with toys at the back of the classroom. The bell rang, and they got up and sat down at their desks. All except Earnest.

“Earnest,” Billy said, “that was the bell. You better go sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Earnest replied.

“Hurry up and sit down,” Heather told him. “Mrs. Dean will be here any moment.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“She’s at the door talking to Mr. Jones. Sit down, Earnest,” said Joe.

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

Mrs. Dean walked into the classroom and saw Earnest playing in the back.

“Earnest,” she called. “Did you hear the bell? Put the toys away and sit down.”

Earnest threw the toys across the floor and stomped to his desk.

“Earnest, put the toys in the box and sit in the corner.”

Earnest did what she said, mumbling the whole way.

“I’m sick and tired of people telling me what to do.”

“Earnest, I think you need to go see the principal.”

Earnest didn’t move.

“Now, Earnest,” Mrs. Dean demanded.

Earnest stomped out of the room and slammed the door.

“Earnest Davis,” Mr. Jones called. “What’s the problem today?”

“Everybody is always telling me what to do.”

“That’s because you're eight. Guess what?”

“I’m 48 and people tell me what to do.”

“When I grow up, nobody will tell me what to do.”

“You have a lot to learn.”

Earnest's father came to take him home.

“Earnest, go to your room. Don’t come out except to use the bathroom and go to school.”

With a frown on his face, Earnest marched to his room and closed the door.

“I’m sick and tired of people telling me what to do. When I grow up, nobody will tell me what to do. When I grow up, everybody will have to do what I say. Just watch.”

Earnest drifted off to sleep, and when he woke up, he was a king.

“Johnny,” he called loudly. “Go clean up my mess from the dinner table.”

“Yes, King Earnest,” Johnny said.

“Molly, put away my toys. Now!”

“Yes, King Earnest.”

Mr. and Mrs. Davis walked in.

“Mommy, Daddy, I am king of the house. Go to your room. Don’t come out until I tell you to.”

“Yes, King Earnest,” they both said. “But even kings have to listen to someone.”

“Ha ha. Not me. I’m going to be even bigger.”

He went to school. Billy, Heather, and Joe walked in front of him, throwing rose petals on the ground where he was walking. Billy was saying, “Move out of the way. King Earnest is coming.”

He sat down at the teacher’s desk and said, “Mrs. Dean, do my homework while you sit in the corner.”

“Yes, King Earnest.”

“Mr. Jones,” he called over the intercom. “Come here, now.”

“Yes, King Earnest, how can I help you?”

“I am King of the School; nobody can tell me what to do.”

“You still have more to learn, King Earnest. Even kings have to listen to someone.”

“Ha ha! Just watch. I’m going to be even bigger.”

King Earnest went to the mayor’s office.

“Step down, Mayor Briggs. I’m now king of the city. Nobody can tell me what to do.”

“Yes, King Earnest. But even kings have to listen to someone.”

“Ha ha. Not me. I’m going to be even bigger.”

He went to the White House.

“Mr. President, step down. I’m now king of the country. Nobody can tell me what to do.”

“Yes, King Earnest. But even kings have to listen to someone.”

“Ha ha. Just watch. I’m going to be even bigger.”

He went to Mexico. He went to Spain. He went to France. He went to China. He went to every country in the world.

“Everybody, I am now King of the World. No! Emperor of the World. Emperor Earnest. Emperor Davis. No! Emperor Davidicus, First Emperor of Earth!”

All the people started saying, “All hail Emperor Davidicus, First Emperor of Earth.”

They started to bring him money and candy and cake and cookies and toys. They would bring him pizza and brownies and donuts and ice cream and chocolate.

“From now on,” Emperor Davidicus said, “all kids should be served chocolate cake and ice cream for breakfast.”

All the children cheered.

“From now on,” Emperor Davidicus said, “recess and video games should be the only subjects in school.”

Again, the children cheered.

“Even better,” Emperor Davidicus said, “send the parents to school while the kids stay home and play.”

All the children cheered.

Davidicus loved all the attention he was getting. His throne sat atop a tower one mile high so that everyone could see him. He loved it. The prestige. The money. The cheers. He loved it all.

But then being an emperor got hard. They started bringing him all of their problems.

“The food ran out in our city. Our children have nothing to eat.”

“We don’t have any water.”

“Our children are sick, but we have no medicine.”

“We’re flooded.”

“Forest fires.”

“Hurricanes.”

Everybody started climbing the tower, demanding that he fix their problems. The tower started to shake. Emperor Davidicus had no idea what to do. He needed help.

“Mommy, Daddy, what should I do?”

“But you don’t want anybody telling you what to do,” his father said.

“You want to be the person in charge,” his mother said.

“Please! Help.”

“Well, we love you, son,” his father said.

“We’ll always be here to help you.”

But before they could do anything, the entire tower collapsed, and Emperor Davidicus started tumbling, spinning, and falling to the ground. Just before he hit, he woke up.

It was just a dream.

He jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. He saw his parents sitting at the table, and he hugged them.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry, Daddy. I don’t want to be Emperor Davidicus. I’ll start listening.”

He saw his brother and sister.

“I’m sorry, Molly. I’m sorry, Johnny. I won’t talk back anymore.”

He apologized to his classmates. He apologized to his teacher. He apologized to the principal.

From then on, Emperor Davidicus—I mean Earnest—tried to be kind and not rude to everybody. He still didn’t like being told what to do. But every time he got tired of people telling him what to do, he remembered that even Emperor Davidicus had to listen to people.