“Dan, I’m coming in, okay? I forgetted to knock on the door.” It was a rainy Saturday morning, a few days later. Nora was working, and Dan was sitting at his drafting table, trying to work. He wasn’t getting much done.
“Okay,” Dan said.
“I have to ask you a very important question.” Taylor folded his hands behind his back, his eyes wide and sincere. “It’s very, very important.”
“Go ahead,” Dan told him.
Taylor took a deep breath. “I need to know it.”
“Okay,” Dan agreed.
“And you need to tell me the truth.” Taylor folded his arms across his chest. “Okay?”
Dan nodded. “Okay.” He was worried, though.
Taylor paused, dramatically. “I will ask you the question now,” he said.
“Ask it,” Dan suggested.
Taylor took another deep breath. “Dan,” he said, “What’s your favorite color?”
“That was a very important question,” Dan agreed, drily.
“I know.” Taylor nodded. “What is it?”
Dan sucked in his breath. “I don’t have one.”
“You don’t?” Taylor’s eyes grew wide.
“I don’t,” Dan agreed.
Taylor scowled. “You do too!”
“I don’t!” Dan exclaimed. “I like all of the colors!”
“You can’t!” Taylor shrieked, irate. “You can’t! You have a favorite!”
“I don’t!” Dan felt guilty. “I really don’t!”
“I am going away!” Taylor yelled. “When I come back, I want you to have a favorite color!”
“But why?” Dan asked.
“Because I SAID!” Taylor screamed. He dashed out of the room.
“Dan, do I have to like pink?” Zac pushed Dan’s door open and made his way over to the drafting board. “Because Tay says that’s my favorite color. But I don’t think so.”
Dan sighed. “Pink doesn’t have to be your favorite color. What’s with Taylor and the favorite colors?”
Zac was solemn. “He needs to know.”
“Why?” Dan asked.
Zac’s eyes grew wide. “It’s a secret.”
“Did he, by any chance, tell you his secret?” Dan wondered.
Zac was horrified. “Dan, it’s a secret. If he telled me, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.”
“I’m surprised it’s still a secret,” Dan mused, “if Taylor’s the one who knows it.”
“Well, maybe he telled Ike,” Zac amended. “But not me.”
“So, what’s your real favorite color?” Dan asked him.
Zac thought about this. “What’s yours?”
Dan groaned. “Not that again!”
Zac put his thumb into his mouth and rested his chin on the edge of the drafting board. He looked up at Dan with wide, imploring eyes.
Dan smiled. “Fine. If you want me to have a favorite color, I’ll have a favorite colors. I like all the colors.”
“That’s my favorite color, too!” Zac exclaimed, grinning at this serendipitous occurence.
Dan laughed. “That’s really amazing,” he remarked.
“Does Ike’s favorite color have to be purple?” Zac wanted to know.
Dan shook his head. “No. Is that what Taylor told him?”
“Yeah.” Zac nodded. “Ike’s mad.”
“His favorite color doesn’t have to be purple,” Dan assured him.
“Ike, I want to sit with you.” Zac climbed up onto the couch next to his older brother. “I want you to read me a story.”
Isaac swallowed. He didn’t feel too good. “Okay. Do you have a book?”
Zac shook his head. “No.” He jumped off the couch and came back with Taylor, who had temporarily forgotten about favorite colors. “He has a book.”
“I am going to read you a story,” Taylor announced.
“Tay’s gonna read you a story,” Isaac told Zac.
“No.” Taylor shook his head. “You, too. I am going to read both of you a story.” He smiled. “Okay?”
Isaac sighed, not feeling up to protesting. “Okay.”
“Good.” Taylor climbed onto the couch between his brothers. “Scootch over and make room.”
Taylor picked up his book. “Frog and Toad All Year,” he read. “It’s a liberry book.” He frowned at Zac. “That means don’t draw in it.”
Zac looked down, guiltily. “A liberry book,” he repeated.
“It’s about Frog and Toad,” Taylor explained. “Written and illustrated by Arnold Lobel.”
“Are you pretending to be on Reading Rainbow?” Isaac asked.
“When you read us stories, you pretend to be on Reading Rainbow,” Taylor reminded him.
Isaac smiled. “But you don’t have to take my word for it!”
“This is a big book,” Taylor said. “A chapter book. Five chapters.”
“Wow,” Zac breathed.
“I’m only going to read one chapter,” said Taylor. “It’s very long.”
“What’s it about?” Zac asked.
“If I told you, it would ruin the story!” Taylor exclaimed, shocked.
“Oh.” Zac sighed. “You can’t even give me a hint?”
“Well, one day Frog and Toad are. . .” Taylor was about to reiterate the entire plot of the story, but Isaac stopped him.
“Just read it.”
“Okay,” Taylor said. He took a deep breath. “Chapter one,” he said. “Down the hill.”
“Down the hill,” Zac repeated.
“Don’t int-rupt,” Taylor warned him. “It isn’t nice.”
“Okay,” Zac sighed.
“Frog knocked at Toad’s door,” Taylor read. “ ‘Toad, wake up,’ he cried. ‘Come out and see how won-der-ful winter is.’”
Isaac yawned.
“Ike, don’t int-rupt!” Zac admonished him.
Isaac yawned again. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“ ‘I will not,’ said Toad,” Taylor read. “ ‘I am in my warm bed.’” Taylor shook his head at this, dismayed that Toad would rather stay in bed than play with his friend. “‘Winter is beautiful,’ said Frog. ‘Come out and have fun.’”
“Too cold.” Zac shook his head. “Toad should stay in his warm bed.”
“How do they know how to speak the same language?” Isaac asked. “One is a frog and one is a toad.”
Taylor ignored this conundrum. “ ‘Blah,’ said Toad. ‘I do not have any winter clothes.’”
“Do toads hibernate in the winter?” Isaac wanted to know.
“What’s ‘hiberate?’” Zac asked.
“Sleep,” said Isaac.
“In their warm beds,” Zac agreed.
Taylor, not paying attention to his brothers, had just read a description of how Frog had brought Toad winter clothes, and had helped him put them on. “ ‘Help!’ cried Toad. ‘My best friend is trying to kill me!’”
Isaac and Zac snickered. Taylor looked worried, then relieved. “ ‘I am only getting you ready for winter,’ said Frog.”
Taylor smiled. “He was only getting Toad ready for winter.”
Isaac sighed. “Too bad.”
“Too bad?” Taylor slammed the book shut and jumped off the couch. “Too bad?” He was seething. “You are the meanest boy in the entire world! I am not going to be your brother anymore!”
Isaac folded his arms across his chest. “Fine. I don’t care.”
“You were reading that book to me!” Zac wailed. “Tay!”
“We will read it in the other room,” Taylor proclaimed, glaring at Isaac. “Away from people who be mean!”
Isaac rolled his eyes. “Do whatever you want.”
“I am not talking to you,” Taylor decided. “Not ever again. Not ever-ever-ever-ever-ever. . .”
“You’re talking now,” Zac pointed out.
“I AM NOT TALKING!” Taylor yelled, and ran away.
Zac turned to Isaac, a puzzled look on his face. He shrugged, and followed Taylor out of the room.
“You would be in a bad mood, too,” Dan told Taylor. “Be nice to him.”
“I will not be nice to him,” Taylor growled. “I will never be nice to him again.”
“Tay. . .” Dan shook his head. “If you were him, you wouldn’t be very happy either.”
“Yeah, because I would be so mean,” Taylor agreed.
“No,” Dan shook his head. “When you came back from the hospital, how did you feel? Not very good, right?”
“He already did come back from the hospital!” Taylor wailed. “Before! And I was nice to him the last time! Why do I have to be nice to him again when I already did it before?”
Dan thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Tay, it isn’t really different.”
“Is too,” Taylor insisted.
“Look.” Dan set his pen down and bit his lip. “I know that this is as hard for you as it is for Ike. It isn’t just happening to him, it’s happening to everybody, and it’s hard when he isn’t being nice to you. He shouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “That’s why you should go yell at him and tell him not to do it.”
“No,” said Dan.
“Why?” Taylor demanded.
“Because,” said Dan.
“Because why?” asked Taylor.
“I won’t do that,” Dan told him.
“Why not?” Taylor wanted to know.
Dan took a deep breath. “Remember those little kids in Romania?” he asked.
Taylor nodded, his eyes lighting up. “I know! We can get rid of Ike, and get a little ‘manian kid instead!”
Dan shook his head. “Remember how sad they felt, because they had to lie in bed all day?”
“Yeah, but they weren’t mean,” Taylor pointed out.
“But they were crying,” Dan said. “And they weren’t very happy.”
Taylor looked uneasy. “Ike’s not a ‘Manian kid.”
“If he were, you’d be nice to him, wouldn’t you?” Dan asked. “Not because you felt sorry for him, but because you knew that being stuck in bed all day doesn’t make most people happy, and you knew how that felt.”
Taylor’s lower lip quivered. “That’s very sad,” he observed.
“I don’t know.” Dan shook his head. “Be mean to Ike if he’s mean to you. Do whatever you want.” He tried to contain his smile as Taylor’s eyes filled and he put his hands on his hips.
“Dan! You’re very mean!”
Dan shrugged. “I thought you didn’t want to be nice to Ike.”
“Dan.” Taylor spoke clearly and carefully, as if to a very young child. “You have to be nice to someone if you know how they feel.”
Dan nodded, as if enlightened. “That’s very good advice.”
Taylor grinned. “I’m going to go be nice to Ike right now!”
Dan hedged. “Tay, maybe you should just leave him alone for a little while-”
“Ike!” Taylor was yelling. “Ike, I’m coming to be nice to you!”
Isaac, half asleep, was staring absently at the TV when Taylor appeared, clutching a little doctor’s kit. He was dressed in Superman pajamas, a plastic stethescope draped around his neck.
“Hi,” he said to Isaac.
Isaac blinked. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
Taylor shrugged. “I am now. I was mean before. You were mean, too. But I’m going to be nice to you anyway.”
Isaac, who hadn’t followed that very well, frowned, puzzled. “Okay. . .” he began.
“I am a doctor,” Taylor told Isaac.
Isaac nodded. “I noticed.”
“I am a very per-fessional doctor,” Taylor announced, “and I have come to do a check up.”
“Oh,” said Isaac.
“On you,” said Taylor. “Open your mouth and say cheese.”
“It’s ‘say ahh,’” said Isaac, “and what if I don’t want to be your patient?”
“You have to be,” Taylor informed him. “You’re sick and I’m a doctor.”
“Oh,” said Isaac, not wanting to participate but lacking the energy to protest.
“Say ahh,” Taylor told Isaac.
Isaac shook his head.
“Fine.” Taylor rolled his eyes. “Open your mouth.”
Isaac opened his mouth. “Hmm,” said Taylor. “Very interesting.”
“What?” Isaac asked.
“Teeth,” Taylor answered.
“Teeth aren’t interesting,” Isaac muttered.
“Yours are,” Taylor told him, cheerily.
“Stop looking in my mouth or I’ll bite you,” Isaac threatened.
Taylor narrowed his eyes. “You’re a very bad patient,” he said. “Now I have to look into your eyes.” He leaned his face close to his older brother’s.
“Why are you doing that?” Isaac wanted to know.
“Ha!” Taylor exclaimed. “I win!”
“What?” Isaac was confused.
“You blinked first!” Taylor pointed at Isaac. “You lose!”
“I didn’t know we were doing that,” Isaac groaned. “It wasn’t fair.”
“Anyway, your eyes are still the same color,” Taylor told him. “Still brown.”
“You’re a really bad doctor,” Isaac told him.
Taylor sighed, shaking his head. “If you think like that, you’ll never get better,” he observed. “Now I have to listen to your heart.”
“You can’t hear someone’s heart,” Isaac frowned, “if you put the stethescope on their belly button.”
“Shh!” Taylor whispered. “You’re talking too loud! I can’t hear your heartbeat.” He paused, looking frightened. “Ike, he whispered, “you don’t have a heartbeat.”
Isaac sighed. “I guess that means I must be dead.”
Taylor shook his head. “You can’t be dead.”
Isaac was taken aback. “I can too!”
“No you can’t.” Taylor folded his hands in front of him. “I’m the doctor and I told you you aren’t.”
“I am, too.” Isaac insisted.
“Are not!” Taylor exclaimed.
“I can be dead if I want to be!” Isaac protested.
“Not unless I say!” Taylor shrieked. “I’m telling!”
“Tattletale,” Isaac shot back.
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
Isaac switched tactics. “Are not!”
“Am TOO!” Taylor yelled.
Isaac grinned. “See? Even you said you are!”
“Am NOT!” Taylor scowled. “I’m not a tattletale! And now I’m telling!”
“There ain’t no mountain high enough,” Taylor sang, mostly to himself. “Ain’t no valley low enough! Ain’t no river wide enough to keep me from gettin’ to you, babe. . .”
Dan groaned. “Where did you hear that song?”
“The radio,” Taylor said. “Remember the day I set you free, I told you you could always count on me, babe. . .”
“Make him stop!” Isaac wailed. He had been coerced off the couch to make Easter eggs, but he was still mad at Taylor.
“We don’t want to listen anymore!” Zac shrieked.
Taylor sang louder. “My love is alive, deep down in my heart. . .”
“That’s too loud,” Dan told Taylor.
“Fine.” Taylor sighed. “Ain’t no river wide enough,” he whispered, “to keep me from gettin’ to you, babe. . .”
“Can I take my egg out yet?” Zac wanted to know.
“We just put it in,” Dan reminded him. “Are you sure you want to take it out yet?”
Zac shrugged. “I just want to see it.”
“Okay.” Dan fished the egg out of the paper cup of dye. “Is it done yet?”
Zac shook his head. “No, not yet.”
Isaac was dipping the bottom half of a yellow egg into a cup of purple dye. He was making an egg that was two colors. He didn’t know why he was making one, or what he’d do with it after he was done. What was the point of Easter eggs? Thinking about it gave him a headache. He studied his egg, now purple and yellow, and looked at Dan. “What do you do with it?”
“Here.” Dan slid a glossy sheet of flowers toward Isaac. “Stick some stickers on it.”
Isaac sighed. “Do I have to stick stickers on it if I don’t want it to be all flowery?”
Dan shook his head, grinning. “No.”
“I want some stickers.” Taylor took the sheet from Isaac and plastered a pink and green rose to his forearm. “It’s my tutu.”
“I want a tutu too!” Zac exclaimed.
“Here.” Taylor gave Zac a sticker. “You can have one.”
“Dan, have a tutu.” Zac peeled off a sticker and affixed it to Dan’s bicep. “Ike, you want a tutu?”
Isaac shook his head, his chin resting on his elbow. “They’re flowers.”
“Ike, we’ll try and see if there’s anything we can do about that school thing, okay?” Dan asked, thinking that this was what was bothering Isaac.
“It’s all right,” Isaac murmured.
“Take my egg out now,” Zac directed.
“Okay,” Dan said.
“Ike, I like your Easter egg.” Taylor said. His own eggs, which he had intended to be “rainbow colored,” had ended up muddy, splotchy amalgams of every color of dye that had come in the box. They weren’t pretty.
“You can have it,” Isaac told him, not looking up.
Taylor looked shocked. “I can’t! It’s your egg!”
“Okay,” Isaac said, shrugging.
“Did you want to make more than one?” Dan asked Isaac.
“No.” Isaac shook his head. “One is stupid enough.”
“I like yours,” Dan said.
“I don’t,” said Isaac.
Dan squinted at him. “Okay.”
“Look, Dan!” Taylor held up an egg. “I made this for you! It’s all your favorite colors!”
Chapter Fifty Four?