(A/N) This is my ultimate baby, my life. I wrote this for my 13 year old brother. Hope you like it, PLEASE R&R!!

Prologue

The Amazing Flying Matzo;

It all began on Passover night. Mikey H. Rosenberg was at his uncle Harold and aunt Katy’s house for the seder. Jeremy (their five year old son) was bossing all the little cousins around. Mikey was nearly 14, and sitting with the grownups and older cousins at the long table. Flipping through the Hagada, trying to predict when it would be his next turn to read.

That whole evening, like most Seders, passed by in a kind of blur, like a math class. All the big kids were sitting on their hands waiting for the Afikoman to be brought out and for Grampa to go wash his hands. Then they would all rush towards his seat and grab it from where he had hidden it, usually under the tablecloth. The Afikoman is a piece of matzo wrapped in cloth that the seder cannot continue without, so naturally kids get to steal it and black mail their elders for it.

Generally, Mikey would hardly ever get the Afikoman; he just wasn’t big or fast enough. The big cousins would push their chairs back with a screech and dive for it before he’d put down his Hagada.

So he sat there, not really expecting anything, listening to uncle Raymond drone on about Rabbi This and Rabbi That, waiting for the Afikoman, and watching Grampa.

He loved to watch Grampa, talking, listening, thinking, he had the most wonderful head of silver hair, and a small beard that would change shades of red in the candlelight. He had a hawkish nose and twinkling green eyes. Grampa was a king, and looked the part.

A long time ago Mikey’s great great ancestor was a king of a small kingdom… no one was quite sure where. Grampa was the present king. Every now and then Grampa would call a meeting of the royal family and discuss state affairs, like who was getting married, who’s Bar/ Bat Mitzvah was coming up, which aunt had which baby and which grandkid had needed to go to the emergency room to retrieve peas out of nostrils. Grampa was a good king, Mikey thought. But he wasn’t sure about the next king, uncle Harold, or the next king, Jeremy! Harold just didn’t seem to have that same kind of calm Grampa always had. He was a famous lawyer, but Mikey didn’t know how well he’d be as a monarch.

The Seder wore on, and all the kids’ energy and expectation sort of wore out. They were done waiting for the Afikoman, it had to come now.

And then Grampa did it, his eyebrows shot up, his mouth drooped down comically, and he slid the Afikoman under the white tablecloth. The younger inhabitants of the table tensed. He stretched and said something to Uncle Harold, then got up and left.

“Screeeeeech boom boom” went 7 chairs and pairs of socked feet on the wooden floor; Mikey hardly had moved his huge heavy chair back, when a miracle happened.

Dana and Gary (the two largest cousins) had of course gotten to the end of the table first and had snatched the Afikoman, they began to fight over it and the cracking of breaking matzo could be heard, then Gary let go suddenly and Dana fell over and the thing went flying, straight into Mikey Rosenberg’s lap!

He sat there, in shock, and just stared at the treasure in his lap. Footsteps could be heard in the hallway and he hurriedly shoved it under the table.

Grampa walked into the room and sat back down. He didn’t hear anything of the Seder after that, he just kept feeling the white soft cloth he held under the table wondering at the world and its windfalls.

Dana and Gary kept glaring at him of course, and he nearly ducked his little red head under the table along with his prize.

To help himself ignore them he began to plan what he would ask for. And then, he realized, there was nothing he wanted! He wasn’t into computer games, there were no videos he wanted to see, there was the library, so he didn’t have to worry about books, he had a bike, he was too old for toys or action figures… the life of a growing boy is hard.

He guessed he just wasn’t accustomed to receiving presents.

Are you laughing? Well, in his family you had to do something great in order to get a gift. He was an OK student, an OK dancer, an OK singer, an OK everything… OK just wasn’t enough for his family, he had to excel at something. So he got signed up to lots of different classes, and did OK in all of them. But he was never really good at anything.

Which was fine by him, most of the world was like that, but with his birthday and Hanukah he got an average of 4 presents a year, and they were usually clothes.

So what did he want?

To be taller.

Not very practical.

A skateboard?

Can’t skate.

To dye his hair green.

Predictable answer: NO.

Gary and Dana’s heads to blow up. They were glaring at him again and whispering to each other across the table.

He kept my own head down and let his too-long hair fall over his eyes to keep his hostile cousins at least out sight if not out of mind.

Maybe he should just give it to them? After all, he had nothing he really desired, and they seemed to want it so badly… this was beside the fact that Gary went to his school and was twice his size, even though they were in the same class.

He looked down at the white cloth in his hands, but he wanted it! How come he couldn’t ever get anything he wanted?

What did he want?

To get what he wanted.

He almost laughed out loud, it was true, that was all he wanted. He could get what he wanted if he got what he wanted, but he couldn’t get what he wanted because he didn’t know what he wanted to get.

He was getting… dizzy.

His eyes fell on Grampa reading. His red beard moved up and down enthusiastically, his green eyes shone. His booming low voice curled itself slowly around his accent.

He wanted to be like him.

That was the thing he wanted most. Not to be king, or old, just… sort of… noble, and wise.

Like the characters in books about knights and dragons and princesses. He didn’t mean stuff like Cinderella or snow white, none of that Disney stuff, but like king Arthur, like that. He didn’t know much about King Arthur and his knights, well, not anymore then the average kid any way, and he wasn’t all that interested in them either. Mikey read mostly science fiction and books for young adults, and had no emphasis whatsoever on fantasy. It’s true that what happens to him in this story usually happens to kids who like those kind of things, who love dragons and knights and princesses and magical… whatever’s, dreamy kids who aren’t good at sports and get laughed at.

As you’ve probably guessed, Mikey was OK at sports. He did get laughed at, but for different reasons then those dreamy kids. He was quite awake, when he hadn’t been reading all night.

He just wasn’t really good material for this kind of story, or this kind of family. But sadly, he was him, and he was there, and he was holding the Afikoman, and he was going to have an adventure, whether he was the right kind of hero or not.

(A/N) I’m posting the first chapter as soon as the prologue’s reviewed, so if you liked this please check it out :).