He shrugs like it’s a given. “My father never showed up for the games either. So I figured, what was the point?”

“How about your mother?” says Howie. I might be the prince of foot-in-mouth disease, but Howie’s the king. He grimaces the moment after he says it, but it’s already out.

The Schwa doesn’t say anything at first. He takes another shot. He misses. “My mother’s not around anymore.”

Howie keeps looking at me, like I’m gonna cough up the guts to ask about it, but I won’t do it. I mean, what am I supposed to say? “Is it true that your mom was abducted by aliens in the middle of Waldbaum’s supermarket?” or “Is it true your father got a samurai sword and went Benihana on her?”

No. Instead I change the subject, changing all of our lives from that moment on, because that’s when I come up with what would forever be known as Stealth Economics.

“Hey, if the Schwa Effect works on the basketball court, there’s got to be other ways to put it to good use.”

The Schwa stopped dribbling. “Like how?”

“I don’t know . . . Spy on people and stuff.”

Howie’s ears perked up at the mention of spy stuff. “The government would pay big bucks for someone who’s invisible.”

“He’s not invisible,” I reminded him. “He’s invisible-ish. Like a stealth fighter.”

“The CIA could still use him.”

“And abuse him.” I grabbed the ball away from the Schwa, went in for a layup, and made it.

“I don’t want to go to the government,” the Schwa says.

“Yeah,” I said. “They’d dissect him and put him in a formaldehyde fish tank in Area 51.”

Howie shook his head. “Area 51 is for aliens,” he says. “They’d probably put him in Area 52.”

“Maybe we should try something that isn’t so big,” I suggested. “Maybe just stuff around school. I’m sure there are people around here who would pay for the services of a Stealth Schwa.” At first this had just been my lips flapping, like they often do—but every once in a while my lips flap and something brilliant flies out. I realized that maybe I was onto something here.

“How much do you think people would pay?” the Schwa asked.

I took an outside shot. “How much is the stealth fighter worth?” Clank! Nothing but chain. I reveled in the sound.

LAB JOURNAL

The Schwa Effect: Experiment #3

Hypothesis: The Schwa can pass through airport security with an iron bar in his pocket.

Materials: JFK American Airlines terminal, a six-inch iron bar, and the Schwa.

Procedure: The Schwa was asked to walk through the security checkpoint, go to Gate B-17, then walk back.