THE ORB

d that woke him up. It was the feeling. A feeling of greatness.

ctions, and his favorite old T-shirt, which read "Dream Big," hung loosely on his shoulders. "

e foot of the bed. "That's right, buddy," Jackson said, scoopin

raction was the town's single stoplight, which everyone called "the blinking wonder."

tied shoelaces. His mom was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of oat

replied, raising an eye

Jackson said, grin

f enthusiasm. "Well, don't forget to tie y

ckson walked to the park, Max trotting beside him. He needed to think.

idea struck him. "I'll sell lemonade

"Jackson's Lemonade: 50 Cents a Cup!" He squeezed lemons, added water, and stirred in some white

lize he'd grabbed the

treet. She took one sip and spit it out, her face tw

d, tasting it himsel

he wasn't discouraged. "Okay, so lemonade isn't my thing," he sa

ith another idea. "I'm going to inv

nd glue. By the end of the day, he had created the Self-Tying Shoe Lac

rked perfectly, looping and tying themselves into a neat bow. But then the

as Jackson accidentally knocked over a stack of paint cans. By the time he

Max, feeling defeated. "Maybe I'm just n

her idea. "The internet!" he excl

ng torches while riding a unicycle. He borrowed the unicycle from h

t go as

ipped over-straight into his neighbor's pool. The flaming torches

" his neighbor

ered. "Fine. That was

People online called him "The Flaming Pool Guy," and J

ere bright, and Max was busy digging a hole by the tree. Jackson watch

, sitting up, "you

arked in

minute... dogs love digging! What if I made a place wher

head as if cons

s it! A dog-digging park! Jackson'

nto a digging zone, complete with sandpits, plastic bones, and

at Jackson had created. To everyone's surprise, the dogs loved it.

me from all over to let their dogs dig at Jackson's Diggy Doggy Park

ddy," he said, scratching behind Max's ears, "maybe 'making it' isn't about being fam

eement, his tail

ime, Jackson felt l