by Nancy Rue

"Mitch, gimme it!"

"Sure. Here ya go—catch! Oops, you missed!"

"Gimme the remote, A.J.! It’s my turn!"

"Hey, bro, no problem. Right at ya—uh-oh—missed again!"

The family room erupted with laughter as Kyle leaped for the third time and missed the TV remote flying over his head.

"I don’t see what your problem is, Kyle," his oldest brother, Mitch, said. "You just reach out and—"

He tossed the remote to Kyle’s other big brother, A.J., who snatched it before Kyle could jump.

"We really gotta work on your rebounds, Dude," A.J. grinned.

Kyle hurled his whole body after the remote control. A.J. dodged, and Kyle charged right into the sofa. His brothers howled like a pair of hyenas. But when Kyle hauled himself off the couch, he wasn’t laughing. IT had taken over.

IT

IT happened in situations like this: when Mitch and A.J. made kissing sounds if a girl looked at him, when they made sick noises at the dinner table and blamed them on him, when they made fun of the way he threw a baseball.

Kyle’s teeth gritted together. His face burned like a campfire. Thoughts snapped in his head until he could barely think—then he started swinging.

Fists doubled, Kyle pounded the nearest flesh he could find. This time it was A.J.’s stomach, those hard "abs" he always bragged about.

"Oooh. Stop. You’re hurting me!" A.J. said in a mocking high-pitched voice.

"Shut up!" Kyle shouted. He socked him harder on the soft part of his belly.

"Dude, watch it!"

A.J. stuck out a hand to push Kyle away, but Kyle kept flailing. Kyle felt Mitch pull him back by the neck of his T-shirt. Out of reach with his hands, he started with his feet. One of them found A.J.’s chin and sent him reeling.

Kyle heard someone shouting, but he didn’t care what the voice was saying. A.J. was sprawled in the recliner, rubbing his chin. This was Kyle’s chance to get him good. He struggled to break away from Mitch.

"I said that’s enough!" This time the shouting voice registered in Kyle’s head.

"Stop," Dad said.

Kyle did. Dad was using the dead-serious tone, the one Mitch said Dad could use to stop a train.

"Kyle," he said, "I thought you understood there was to be no more of this."

"They wouldn’t give me the remote!" Kyle said. "It’s my turn!"

"And that’s reason to kick your brother in the face?"

"They were playing keep-away to make me mad and get me in trouble!"

"I wasn’t trying to make you break my jaw!" A.J. said. "Dude."

"Will you make them give me the remote?" Kyle asked. He hated the way his voice was shaking, but he couldn’t help it. His voice always sounded this way when IT started to fade.

"Uh, no," Dad said. "I think you forfeited your turn for the rest of the week."

"What about them?" Kyle jabbed a finger toward his brothers. "They made me do it!"

"They didn’t ‘make’ you do anything," Dad said. "Granted, they shouldn’t aggravate you—" He stopped and glared at A.J. and Mitch. "And they’re going to have to hand over the remote for the rest of the day."

Mitch held out the control for Dad.

"However," Dad went on, "that’s no excuse for you going ballistic, Kyle. I’ve taken away just about everything you own and grounded you a thousand times. What’s it going to take for you to control that temper?"

"Them leaving me alone!" Kyle cried.

And before he even knew it, IT roared up again. Kyle dove for A.J., fists pounding the air. But just before he connected, his eye caught somebody else standing in the family room, and he froze.

"Hi," his best friend Daniel said. "Your mom said to come in."

"Don’t do it, Daniel," Mitch said as he and A.J. took off. "Not if you want to live long."

Kyle looked at the floor, but he could feel Daniel staring at him. Dad put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. "We’ll deal with this later," he said.

Daniel didn’t say a word, and the silence made Kyle squirm.

"I hate my brothers."

Daniel shrugged, but he didn’t move. "What’d they do this time?"

"Took the remote and wouldn’t give it back. They were—"

The words faded as Kyle watched Daniel, still standing in the doorway. "Forget it," Kyle said. "You’re just lucky you don’t have brothers."

He flopped back casually on the couch, but he kept watching Daniel’s stiff face. "So what about the campout?" Kyle asked. "Is your dad gonna let you have it?"

Daniel nodded.

"How many friends can come?"

"I’m not sure yet," Daniel said.

They’d been talking all month about a weekend campout Daniel might have for his birthday. They’d practically scheduled every minute, because they were so excited—and now Daniel stood there like a totem pole.

"If it’s three, that means Scott and Patrick, yes, Michael, no," Kyle said. "Right?"

"I don’t know,’ Daniel said. "I gotta go. I’ll see ya tomorrow."

He was gone before Kyle could get off the couch, and Dad was back. He sat beside Kyle.

"Look, Son," he said. "What do your mom and I always tell you to do when you’re struggling inside?"

I’m NOT struggling! he wanted to shout. It’s everybody else! But he said, "Think about what Jesus would do."

He sounded as stiff as Daniel. All he wanted to do was run after his friend and find out what was going on.

"So what would He do to control a nasty temper like yours?"

Kyle’s attention turned to his father. "Jesus didn’t control His temper," the boy said. "He turned over all those tables in the temple and went after people with a whip!"

"Jesus did that to defend His Father’s house," Dad said. "Not to get back at His brothers for teasing Him. And Jesus didn’t sin while He was angry. I can’t say the same about you."

Partied Out

The next morning at school, Kyle looked for Daniel to find out about the campout. He headed to the bike racks where the guys always hung out before the morning bell. Daniel, Patrick, Scott and Michael were already there.

"So if you have a sleeping bag, bring it," Kyle heard Daniel say as he got closer. "But we’ve got some extras—"

"I’ve got my own," Kyle chimed in.

"You won’t need it," Daniel said. "I could only invite three guys. Maybe you could come next time."

Kyle stared at him. Daniel jerked his head at the other three boys.

"C’mon," he said. "The bell’s gonna ring."

Kyle sat dumbfounded long after everybody scurried for the building.

I’m your best friend! he wanted to shout after Daniel. You HAVE to invite me!

His face got hot, and he could feel his teeth grinding together. IT was happening.

Kyle kicked somebody’s bicycle, but that only hurt his foot. He limped toward the school with his fists clenched.

All day Kyle’s anger simmered while Daniel avoided him. Kyle finally got him face-to-face when he was waiting for the bus after school.

"Why are you taking Michael instead of me?" Kyle demanded.

Daniel shrugged.

"I’m your best friend!"

Another shrug.

"You gotta take me!"

Daniel shook his head.

IT was raising its head. Kyle had clenched his fists, and the thoughts were already popping in his head. Shouts from across the parking lot snapped him into reality.

"Get in that car!" a man yelled as he half-dragged a boy across the lot. "You’re gonna get it when you get home!"

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what "it" was. The man drew back his hand and let it fly right across the boy’s face.

Kyle just stared at the man’s face. Red and twisted, it looked as if he were wearing a monster mask. Kyle took a step backward—right into Daniel.

"You know what?" Daniel said. "That’s what your face looked like when you were wailing on A.J."

Slow to Burn

Somehow Kyle got home without crying. But the minute he hit his room, he collapsed into tears. Dad found him later.

"I’m a monster, Dad," he said weakly. "Just like that kid’s father in the parking lot. And Daniel knows it. He’s not taking me on the campout."

Dad didn’t ask whose father he was talking about. He just said, "You’re not a monster, Son. But you’ve got a wicked temper, and it’s a problem. You know what Jesus would say?"

"What?"

"He would say, ‘Kyle, be slow to anger,’ " Dad said.

Kyle’s heart sank. "I can’t," he said. "This thing just happens, and I go—"

"Hey." Dad squeezed Kyle’s shoulder. "Nobody said you had to do it on your own. I’m going to be here, and you can always ask God to help you get a handle on this thing."

Dad looked almost happy. But Kyle was definitely UNhappy.

"Daniel hates me now," he said.

"He’s just disappointed," Dad said.

"Can you cure me of my temper by next weekend?"

Dad coughed like he was choking on something. "These things usually take a while," he said. "But Jesus still performs miracles. What do you say we give it a try?"

Kyle nodded. And then he said, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Did Jesus have brothers?" Kyle sighed and answered his own question. "Nah, I betcha He didn’t."

	Q: What do you get when an antelope and a caribou collide? A: A cantaloupe. Jacy and Joe C., 8 and 6, North Carolina Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe