S.O.S.!

It's 1984, a leap year on the Gregorian calendar. Hulk Hogan defeats the Iron Shiek; Van Halen says might as well jump, go on and jump; Tina Turner is asking what's love got to do with it. Velma Barfield is executed by the state of North Carolina, Ronald Regan gets to keep the job of president, and J.J. Dufresne is nine years old. He's a third grader in Mrs. Worthless’ class.

He wants to do a little extra credit, he thinks he needs to. He thinks he owes Mrs. Worthless something since she has more than once made it abundantly clear just how dumb he is. She's told him so. Plus during milk break, J.J. never gets to stand underneath the monkey bars peeking at what girls have under their skirts, he doesn't get to go outside like the other kids on account of how bad his math scores are. Mrs. Worthless makes him stay inside. He feels sad about how much Mrs. Worthless doesn't like him

But he's determined to change her mind. He's intent on getting the old lady to see he's not a bad kid, a stupid kid, a nose-picker or a nail-biter or a booger-eater. There are things he's good at. Like drawing He-Man.

J.J. is really into He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, he loves He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, it's his favorite cartoon, his favorite action figure, his favorite thing to think about. In his favorite fantasy, he is He-man, he is Master of the Universe. He's powerful. He's strong. He's bold. He's just, and even Mrs. Worthless has to say so. She has to say oh please forgive me for all the times I have transgressed against you, oh Strong and Mighty One! Additionally, as part of her punishment, J.J. imagines making her pull his finger, how she'd have to say she loves the smell of ass gas. This fantasy is so pleasant and so plausible that he's surprised it isn't real.

Yet.

Because he has an idea.

J.J. knows how to make a hardcover book; he learned how from watching Levar Burton's Reading Rainbow. If you follow Levar's directions, it's real easy. J.J. gift wraps a rectangle of cardboard, glues a length of yarn down the middle then ties in some folded paper and glues the yarn down again. The result of J.J.'s effort is a blue hardcover book with snowflakes on it. He fills in the blank pages with crude but semidecent renderings of He-man and the rest of the Masters of the Universe. He accompanies his illustrations with text, a story spun out of his own wild imagination. It's about the king’s crown being stolen and He-man having to go fight Skeletor. Then J.J. glues a square of white in the center of the cover, and draws a color penciled He-Man holding aloft his sword in his famous pose. J.J. wants people to judge his book by its cover. His drawing of He-Man rocks. He can't believe how good it is. Above the tip of his sword he draws words in puffy letters. ‘He-man and the Masters of the—”

J.J. doesn't know how to spell "universe," but his dad does. His dad knows how to spell everything. J.J.'s dad is in his chair watching TV, the Dufresne family's first TV with a remote control, and Ted Dufresne is still caught up in the novelty of clicking through channels. It's Ted's thumb that will wear a silver smear into the base of the remote, he clicks so much. Click click click: it's like Morse Code, the noise of urgency, HELP or Save our ship! S.O.S!

“Dad?”

Click. “What?” Click.

“How do you spell ‘universe’?”

J.J. draws the letters as Ted rattled them off.

Click. U. Click. N. Click. I. Click. V. Click E. Click. R. Click. S. Click. I. Click. T. Click. Y. Click.

Looking at his book, J.J. smiles one of those smiles, the kind you really remember because of how it feels on your face. He's proud. His He-Man and the Masters of the Universe book will certainly score a few points with Mrs. Worthless; she and J.J. will mend their torn relationship, or at least begin to.

Except that's not what happens.

J.J. volunteers to read his story to the class and Mrs. Worthless points out that he most certainly did not write a “He-Man and the Masters of the Universe” tale but rather a “He-Man and the Masters of the University” tale. The kids laugh. J.J. tries to not care but his cheeks burn red. Later that night he told his dad gee, Dad, thanks, but Ted doesn't notice the boy's sarcasm. It's the first season of Miami Vice but Murder, She Wrote is good, too. Click click click.