Authors: Courtney Sheinmel
Uncle Max holds the pitcher out toward me. “Care for a glass?” he asks, like everything is perfectly normal and nothing out of the ordinary happened today. Like my biggest problem is maybe perhaps I'm just a bit thirsty.
“I have to go see Quinn!” I say.
Back down the steps, around the corner, down the block, and up the three steps to our front door. I ring the bell, but I don't wait for anyone to answer. I take the key that Mom hides
inside a special rock and bang through the door. “Quinn! Quinn! QUINNNNNNNNNNN!”
Our house isn't that big, but it feels bigger than usual as I race through rooms, not finding her. Not until I trip over her, and fall onto Madeline, sprawled out on the floor in our den.
“OW!” Madeline cries.
“Watch it, nut job,” Quinn tells me.
There she is. My sister. I stare at her, taking her in. She looks all right. She looks just like she always does.
“What?” Quinn asks. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“No reason,” I tell her. “I was looking for you and now you're here.”
“Zack, you're being a nut job,” Quinn says. She waves her hand, her signal for
get lost
. “Can't you see we're watching a movie?”
On the TV screen, two girls who don't look much different from Quinn and Madeline are painting each other's nails.
“Stop smiling so much,” she says. “It's weird. And do something about your feet.”
I look down at my bare feet. I left one shoe at Millings Academy, and the other one at Uncle Max's house. My genie bite looks a little darker than usual. But maybe it's just that the lights are dimmed in the den, better for watching a movie. Can Quinn tell?
“What about my feet?”
“They stink!” she says. “They're stinking up the whole room.”
Uncle Max walks in right then. “Well, hello, birthday twins,” he says brightly. “And hello, Madeline.”
“Hi,” Madeline says softly. Then she leans over and whispers something to Quinn. I think I hear the word
Einstein
, which makes both of them laugh. And yes, Quinn's laugh is as cringe-worthy as ever, but neither she nor Madeline seem to care.
“I didn't hear the doorbell ring,” I tell Uncle Max.
“The door was unlocked,” he says.
“I guess I forgot to lock it behind me,” I say.
“Hold the phone,” Quinn says. She's looking at me with the same look of disbelief she had when I told her I was a genie. “YOU forgot to lock the door? Don't you know there are a million break-ins a year?”
“Three million,” I say. “But I had other things on my mind.”
“Oh, look, my whole family is together,” Mom says.
Mom is carrying a bowl of popcorn, and she sets it on the coffee table for everyone to share. I don't mention how easy it is to choke on popcorn, or remind everyone to chew an extra amount before they swallow. I just look around at my sister, my uncle, my mom, and even Madeline. All together. “It's great, isn't it?” I say.
“Shh, we're watching the movie,” Quinn tells me.
“You talked first,” I remind her.
“No, I didn't. Besides, you're talking more.”
Mom shakes her head. “I thought maybe the fights would stop when we hit the decade mark.”
“Sorry to break up the family scene, but I have to get going,” Uncle Max says.
“Can't you stay to the end of the movie?” Mom asks.
“Not this time. I have a bit of work to do.” He stands, and Quinn stands, too.
“Can you pause the movie?” she asks. “I have to go to the bathroom. Plus, we should go back a bit because everyone was being so loud.”
“Walk me to the door, Zack,” Uncle Max tells me.
Standing in our teeny foyer, Uncle Max tells me he plans to write to SFG tonight to tell them I should start in the intermediate class. “If you can tell me what you learned today, Zack.”
“I learned you were right about keeping an eye on that bottle,” I say. “Except . . .”
“Don't worry, Zack,” Uncle Max says to me,
pulling it out of a pocket in his shirt I didn't know was there. “I was watching it for you. Now, did you learn anything else?”
“Well, I've been thinking about the wish Trey madeânot the one I ended up granting, but before that. He told me he'd wish to get rid of his dad. And I don't think that's what he really wanted. I think sometimes people wish for things because they want them, and sometimes they wish for things because they're afraid. Like Trey was really afraid of his dad. Mostly, he was afraid his dad didn't like him. That's why he wanted to change.”
“That must have been a sad thing for you to seeâa son not appreciating his father, and vice versa.”
“Yeah, but did you see in the end when his dad showed up? That was his real wish. He didn't even make it, and it came true. He was so afraid of his dad, but in the end it turned out he didn't have to be. So I guess I learned sometimes you
have to listen to your fears. And sometimes you have to do the thing you're afraid of, and it'll make you happy.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
“It made me happy, too. It was nice that that happened because of meâeven if I didn't know I was doing it when I was granting his wish. But that was the best part. It's cool if that's part of my destiny.”
“You know, you've reached the final stage of finding out you're a genie,” Uncle Max says.
“What's that?”
“Happiness.”
“Zack!” Quinn shouts. “You didn't put the toilet seat down!”
“I haven't been home all day!” I shout back.
“Well, who else could it have been, nut job?”
“Quinn, don't call your brother names,” Mom says. I smile at Uncle Max. “And, Zack, go put down the toilet seat.”
“Go take care of it,” Uncle Max says. “And
then get some rest. Tomorrow will be a whole new adventure.”
I shut the door behind him, but before I head down the hall, I lift my fist to my chin and say to the imaginary Drew Listerman: “How's that for a day in the life!”
Growing up, two of my dearest wishes for adulthood were: (1) to write books, and (2) to be friends with other authors. I want to thank all of my writing pals for helping to make those wishes come trueâand thanks especially to Sarah Mlynowski and Laura Schechter, for providing such wonderful spaces for the magic to happen. Thanks also to Gitty Daneshvari, for the dinner conversation that stretched my imagination and changed the course of the story, and to Adele Griffin, for an essential early read.
Thank you to my nephew Zach, the original Zacktastic, and to a few more young friends
who read the first draft of this book . . . and then later drafts, and yet more drafts: Avery and Chase, Madden and Brody, and Maverick and Memphisâyou guys rock! And thanks to your momsâmy stepsister, Laura Liss, and my dear friends Lindsay Aaronson, Amy Bressler, and Logan Levkoff, who fielded all my e-mails and phone calls.
Speaking of phone callsâthank you, Erin Cummings, Jennifer Daly, Regan Hofmann, Arielle Warshall Katz, Geralyn Lucas, Alyssa Sheinmel (my sis!), Elaine Sheinmel (my mom!), Jess Rothenberg, Bianca Turetsky, and Meg Wolitzer, for being on the other end of the phone, all hours of the day.
Thanks to my stepdad, Phil Getter, for loving this story from the very first chapter; to my dad, Joel Sheinmel, for being the world's most willing and enthusiastic proofreader; and to Kai Williams, for her amazing eleventh-hour notes.
Thank you to Laura Dail, Tamar Rydzinski,
and everyone at the Laura Dail Literary Agency, for the ongoing support and cheerleading. (That includes you, Katie Hartman!)
Thank you to the Sleeping Bear Press team for giving Zack Cooleyâand while we're at it, Stella Battsâa home. Special thanks to Judy Gitenstein, Heather Hughes, Lois Hume, and Audrey Mitnick. And to my editor, Barb McNally, “thanks” doesn't seem to be enough, but I'll say it anyway: Thank you, Barb, for making
Zacktastic
better than I ever could have on my own.
Finally, my unending gratitude to my entire family for being my family. I love you all so much, you can't even measure it.
Courtney Sheinmel is the author of several books for kids and teens, including
Edgewater, Sincerely
, and the Stella Batts series. She lives in New York City and hopes you'll visit her online at
www.courtneysheinmel.com
.