Not Your Average Kid

Jacob was weird. Physically, he was a misfit. He was a good head taller than most of our class. He was skinny, too--too skinny. I often stared at him and wondered if his mother ever hugged him, because he just looked too bony and pokey to embrace. I felt sorry for Jacob's mom. She was probably really sore. Jacob also had a curly "rat's tail" on the base of his neck, while the rest of his hair was buzzed short. I was intrigued by this kid. I was used to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed little boys who came with their hair parted and their outfits (hand-picked by their moms, no doubt) matching and starched. Jacob wasn't like that at all. He often wore over-sized button up shirts which usually displayed a fire-breathing dragon, skeleton, or thirsty flames. He wore "wheelies",too. The shoes with wheels on the bottom that my mother always said were too frivolous. Regardless of his appearance, he still was rather odd. He often rode his wheelies backwards, in figure-eights, around the class while he sang Latin-style songs. Which was shocking, because we'd only been exposed to the songs from musicals and Disney channel. And just when we were no longer experiencing culture shock from his mariachi music, Jacob would begin dancing. Yikes.

Jacob was aware that he was different from the rest of our grade. How could he not know? I mean, he was the only one who didn't look like he'd stepped out of a JC Penny catalog. But he was proud of this. One day, he told me that he was exhausted. I stared at him with suspicious eyes. I had been waiting for this kid's story since the day he moved in--everyone had a theory about him. Some thought he was full of it, just trying to get a reaction out of us. Others speculated that he had escaped from an asylum. I was still uncertain, but I was determined to find out. "What's wrong, Jacob?" I asked in what I hoped was an approachable voice. He narrowed his eyes, slowly pushed me against a school wall, placed his hand on my shoulder and took a deep breath. "At least he can breathe." I thought to myself. I knew that I'd been holding mine. "The demands..." he paused. I stared at him, suddenly terrified of the truth. "The demands of being a goblin...are just too much."

I never found out Jacob's story. I guess that ignorance is bliss, after all.