Read Soar for Free Online Page A

napping?”
    â€œI was about to take one.” This is absolutely true. I was going to take a twelve-minute nap like John F. Kennedy did. He was a famous power napper even in the White House.
    I tell her about school.
    â€œAre you using your antiseptic?”
    I nod.
    â€œHow is your blood pressure?”
    â€œI take the medicine.” High blood pressure is a side effect of the medicine I’m taking.
    â€œAnd where is your father?”
    I walk the phone over to the stove and show her the great dinner I made.
    â€œSausage,” she announces, “has additives and—”
    â€œIt’s organic.” I have to eat healthy—doctor’s orders.
    Walt, thankfully, comes in the door. “And have you had a bowel movement, young man?”
    â€œNot since last month.”
    She gasps.
    â€œHe’s kidding!” Walt grabs the phone and glares at me. “Seriously, we are doing well.”
    I’m glad to have an aunt, even though she can drive me this side of crazy.
    â€œI think we should talk daily,” she says.
    I shake my head, which is Jerwal’s sign to shake his head, too. I do a little robot dance. Jerwal jerks his arms up and down.
    â€œMaybe we should talk weekly, Char. How are you?”
    She doesn’t want to talk about that. But then she says, “Tell Jeremiah they’re lucky to have him at that school.”
    She means it, too. I shout, “Thanks, Aunt Charity.”
    Call over.
    Walt and I eat in the kitchen with the Reds game on the radio.
    Don’t mess up, you guys—it’s Franny’s big day.
    Walt’s loving the dinner.
    â€œHow are the robots at work, Walt?”
    â€œYou can see for yourself.” He opens his backpack, takes out an orange ball with a flat side, and puts it on the floor.
    â€œThat’s a robot?”
    â€œYep. This is SARB. Search and Report Back. We’re developing them for police and fire departments.” Computer out, he types something. “Find trouble, SARB.”
    The orange ball moves, stops at the screen door, and falls over on its back like a turtle. This happens two times.
    â€œWhy does it do that, Walt?”
    â€œIt’s not clear.” He’s typing more.
    â€œCan Jerwal meet it?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œIt might need a friend, Walt.”
    â€œThere are dozens just like it at the office.”
    Uncle Jack didn’t like robots because he said they can’t take a joke. Walt and I tried to program Jerwal to make a ha-ha noise, but it sounded more like he was wheezing.
    Walt opens the screen door. “Find trouble, SARB.”
    The little robot rolls onto the porch. We follow it. There’s a noise in the bushes. Mrs. Prim is staring at us.
    I see no point in lying. “Mrs. Prim, this is my father, Walt. And this is his robot, SARB.”
    Her face twists up.
    Walt tips his baseball cap to her. “It’s a lovely evening, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”
    He picks SARB up. Moths dance by the porch light. The Reds just made a very stupid error, letting a Cub get to second, but they’re still ahead by two runs.
    Walt does the dishes. I arrange my baseball and coaching books on the bookshelf in my room. It sags a little under the weight. Jerwal is in the corner getting a power zap. That’s what I need—a power cord to plug into.
    Today in study hall, I researched Coach Perkins, the Hornets coach. He has a lot of big coach sayings:
    â€œI don’t believe in losing. I believe in winning. One hundred percent.”
    â€œI eat winning for breakfast. I drink it, I breathe it. Every minute. Every day. I program myself to go for it.”
    â€œThis is what I tell my players: you play for me, you leave your doubts at the door.”
    The door opens and SARB comes rolling in.
    â€œWalt!”
    â€œAct natural, Jer. He needs practice getting around things.”
    SARB goes up to my suitcase and stops.
    â€œIt’s got my