by Tim Shoemaker

“Don't you dare do anything to embarrass me when Sean gets here,” my older sister, Shirley, called to me. “I'm warning you, Chester.”

Threatening me was more accurate. You know the old saying, “Don't get mad, get even”? Well, Shirley doesn't do anything halfway. She gets mad, and she gets even. But I love a good challenge.

Shirley was getting ready to go to the movies with Sean and a bunch of friends.

“Don't worry, I'll be a regular Mr. Manners.”

“I'm serious, Chester. Sean's really nice.”

I'd heard her talking to Mom about him a couple of nights ago. Sean played the guitar for the worship band at his high school youth group. He even inspired Shirley to read her Bible again.

“You just have a way of messing things up,” she added as she finished brushing her teeth.

Mess things up?

The idea just came to me. Shirley had set aside a plate for Sean in the refrigerator: a slab of meatloaf, a pile of mixed vegetables and a mound of mashed potatoes — all carefully covered with plastic wrap.

I pulled open the fridge, found the carton of eggs and lifted one out. Unwrapping one side of the plastic, I jammed the egg deep into the mashed potatoes. I smoothed over the potatoes with my finger and licked it off. Perfect. I stretched the plastic wrap back over the plate just as the doorbell rang.

Shirley bounded down the stairs.

“Be good,” she said as she pointed at me and rushed for the door.

I checked out Sean as he stepped inside. He didn't look weird, but the fact he'd be seen with my sister made me wonder.

“I've heard a lot about you, Chester,” Sean said as he stuck out his hand.

I shook it and wondered exactly what kinds of things he'd heard.

“Hungry, Sean?” Shirley lifted the plate, pulled off the plastic and smiled.

“If I eat all that, I'll explode.”

“You want me to scoop off some potatoes before I heat it?”

I tensed a little.

“Nah. Go ahead and nuke it. I'm really hungry.”

Egg-plosion

Shirley put the plate in the microwave, closed the door and set the timer for three minutes. Sean sat down at the table while she poured him a glass of milk and got some silverware. I hoisted myself up on the counter, so I wouldn't miss a thing.

The plate turned in slow circles as the microwave counted down.

“It's really nice of you to make a dinner for me like this.” Sean smiled.

Shirley blushed. “It was no trouble —”

WOOOOMPH!

I'd never heard Shirley scream like that — a shrill, piercing shriek. She clamped her hands over her ears and gyrated wide-eyed across the kitchen like she was dancing on hot coals.

“Hokey Smokies!” Sean yelled. He bumped the table hard and tipped over the milk as he bolted out of his chair.

Sean popped open the microwave door. Mashed potatoes and egg shrapnel plastered the inside. Peas and carrots peppered the walls.

“It smells like burnt eggs.” Sean glanced at me and grinned.

He knows.

“Eggs?” Shirley looked totally confused. “Do you think something is wrong with our microwave?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Sean, what if you had eaten it and it blew up in your stomach?”

I slid off the counter and rolled on the floor laughing. It was too good.

“There's nothing wrong with the microwave,” Sean explained. “My guess is somebody hid an egg in that mound of mashed potatoes.”

Shirley whirled to face me. “Chester!”

She lowered her head and closed her eyes. I wasn't sure if she was counting to 10 or praying. When she opened her eyes, she picked up a rag and started wiping out the microwave.

Strange Reaction

Weird. No yelling. No threats. Normally she'd make me clean up the mess. I pulled a fresh rag from the drawer and started helping.

“That was funny.” Sean picked up a dishtowel and started mopping up the milk. “KABOOM! Now that's what I call nuking a meal.

“You really blew it though, Chester,” Sean added. “You should have set up a video recorder. You could have made $10,000 by sending it to 'Funniest Home Videos.' Shirley's reaction would've been a guaranteed winner.”

I started laughing again — even Shirley smiled.

The whole scene kept rolling through my mind after Sean and Shirley left. I thought about how well Shirley seemed to take the prank. That wasn't like her. She would find a way to get even before the day was over. She always did.

Shirley came home at the same time Mom pulled into the drive. I stood at the window and watched Sean hand Shirley a little yellow note. Shirley tucked the paper in her back pocket and started talking to Mom. I wished I could hear what she was saying, but it didn't take a genius to guess. Shirley waved her arms around, and Mom's mouth dropped open in astonishment.

She's telling her about the prank. Mom'll ground me for sure.

I started calculating how long I'd be grounded.

Shirley smiled at me when she walked in the house.

It must be a month. She looks too happy for it to be anything less than that.

Mom was right behind her.

“Chester, we need to talk,” Mom said.

Oh yeah, Shirley's getting even all right.

“I think I'll head up to my room,” Shirley said.

As Shirley trotted up the stairs, the little yellow note fell out of her pocket.

“Shirley tells me you were quite helpful this afternoon,” Mom said.

Here it comes.

“She said there was a little mess in the kitchen after you pulled what she called a 'harmless' prank. I heard you helped her clean up without being asked. I'm proud of you, Chester.” Mom leaned over and gave me a hug.

Proud of me? Was this some kind of a joke?

I cleared my throat. “Well, it was the least I could do. The mess was really all my fault.”

I took the stairs two at a time to Shirley's room, snatching the yellow piece of paper on my way. Her door was closed, so I unfolded the note and read it.

Shirley,
Keep this in your pocket. Better yet, memorize it. — Sean
“Do not repay evil for evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.” —1 Peter 3:9

Payback

Shirley's door suddenly swung open. She looked startled, then snatched the note out of my hand.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” I said. “I mean, I figured you would have tried to get even for the mashed potatoes thing.”

“The truth is, I could've gotten you soooo bad,” Shirley said. “But Sean talked me out of it.”

“Does this mean we have some kind of truce?”

“Don't count on it. Sean loves pranks even more than you do. He's got ideas you've never dreamed of.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

She smiled in her troublemaking way. “If you ever try pulling a stunt like that again, you'd better watch your back.”

“Hey, don't worry. I'll be good.” I raised my hands in mock surrender and backed down the hall toward my room.

I flopped on my bed and clasped my fingers behind my head. I thought about all that “getting even” stuff. Sean's way of handling it was so bizarre that it was cool. I decided the next time somebody did something nasty to me, I'd find a way to treat them nice. It'd drive 'em nuts!

I'm actually looking forward to Sean's next visit. You can be sure I won't bury an egg in his mashed potatoes, but I will find a way to wrangle some of those prank ideas out of him.

	Q: Why did the basketball player put his cookie in the milk? A: Because he loved to dunk. Jacob P., 5, Michigan Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe