Jack's New Power Read Online Free

hairs.
    â€œNow gently grab the tail.”
    I did.
    â€œNow give it a little tug.”
    I froze.
    â€œJust a little tug,” he insisted. “Then you won’t have to do any more and I’ll tell Dad you conquered your fear.”
    I took a deep breath and yanked the tail as though I were pulling a bell rope. The horse kicked me so viciously in the thigh that I skipped across the ground, staggered up the dirt path, and collapsed sideways into the bushes. The horse galloped off as I reached up with my free arm and jerked the shirt over my head.
    Pete was laughing so hard he had dropped onto his knees. When he saw me staring at him, he stood up and backed away.
    â€œI’ll kill you! I’ll murder you!” I shouted. “No, I won’t murder you. I’ll drown you! I’ll make you go deep-sea diving without a hose. You’ll do more than face your fear. You’ll face your Maker!”
    â€œI was just trying to help,” he cried. “You faced your fear and you survived. It wasn’t that bad.”
    I may have survived, but my fear had multiplied. I
untangled myself from the bush and put all my weight on my leg. It held. It wasn’t broken, but it throbbed. I undid my belt and dropped my pants. There was a red horseshoe-shaped bruise glowing on my swollen thigh. I could even see where the nail heads had made little circles on my skin. The horse had branded me. It owned me. I pulled my pants up.
    â€œYou’re dead,” I said, and began to limp up the path. “Just return the horse to the stable before I drown you.”
    I needed to lie down.
    Â 
    Pete didn’t wait for me to drown him. After I rested my leg, I put on my bathing suit and went down to the pool. He was in the shallow end with a Styrofoam bubble strapped to his back and little plastic water wings on his arms. He couldn’t sink if I sat on him.
    â€œHey,” I said. “You’re doing great.”
    He turned and smiled up at me. “Thanks,” he sputtered and thrashed his arms around. “I was so afraid you’d drown me I started without you.”
    Dad was right. Fear of one thing can really get a person to face the fear of another thing altogether.
    I stepped into the water and waded over to him. “Okay,” I instructed. “I’ll hold you up as you swim from side to side. But first you have to take off the water wings.”
    â€œI keep the bubble on,” he insisted.
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œSorry about the horse,” he said. “I was just doing my best.”
    â€œYou’ll notice,” I said, “that I am not asking you to practice in the deep end. What you did to me was like pushing a
blind man into traffic so he could get over his fear of cars. Now let’s go.”
    I held him under the belly as he began to swim the crawl with his legs kicking and his arms flailing. Then I unsnapped the clip on his bubble and stepped away.
    â€œExcuse me,” I shouted above his splashing. “I forgot to tell you a story of dread. Once upon a time there was a demented older brother with a horseshoe branded on his leg …”
    He finally noticed he was alone. “Help,” he gurgled.
    â€œYou need help holding your breath?” I asked, and pushed him under. I counted to three, then hauled him up.
    â€œHelp!”
    â€œWho is the boss?” I asked.
    â€œYou are.”
    â€œWho is the master?”
    â€œYou are.”
    I led him over to the edge. “Tomorrow I’ll teach you the fine points of swimming,” I said.
    He grabbed the edge of the pool and held on. Now he had plenty of dread.
    Â 
    When we sat down to dinner, everyone seemed to be smiling except for me.
    â€œWell,” Dad started. “I didn’t tell you this last night. I didn’t want to jinx myself by talking about it. But I was afraid that my bid on a hotel renovation might not be accepted. I thought I had bid too high. And without