CHAPTER 1
I have a question for you.
Which would you rather sit at: the command center of a spaceship or a boring old school desk?
It’s the spaceship, right? I thought so. Me too!
Now that that’s out of the way, let me tell you something about me. My name is Elvin Link. I’m in fifth grade. I like to draw. I mean, I really like to draw. I’ll draw humans, animals, monsters, aliens, half human–half chickens, you name it. I don’t even need paper. As long as the surface is flat, I’ll draw on anything: walls, floors, clothes, furniture, whatever. I like to draw at home, on the bus, at school, and on vacation. And I’ll draw with anything: pens, pencils, markers, chalk, crayons, brushes, or erasers. You never know what you might need or when you might need it, so I’ve always got drawing stuff in my backpack:
That’s why I decided to turn my boring old desk at school into a spaceship. Check it out: the swivel laser cannon, the auxiliary rocket engines, even the rocket-fueled legs! This was going to be a fully functioning extraterrestrial vehicle. And it was something I would have been far more excited to sit at than my boring earthbound desk.
In other words, this might have been the coolest thing ever.
Here’s who didn’t agree: my teacher, Mrs. English.
None of my teachers approve of my drawing on surfaces other than paper. But I like Mrs. English, which is why this was a bummer. As teachers go, she’s pretty cool.
Here are a few things you should know about her:
1. She lives on a farm.
2. She likes to teach math.
3. She can’t see. Well, what I mean is that she has really poor eyesight and wears glasses that are as thick as a pair of ice cubes.
That last fact is also why she writes in REALLY BIG letters. And on this particular day, she wrote this on the whiteboard:
I was excited about the planet thing. Who doesn’t like imagining what it would be like to live on another planet? The part about getting into teams and looking up information together in books or online—not quite as interesting.
So, as my group was getting organized, and discussing which planet we were going to look at, and deciding how to split up the work, it occurred to me that the best way to get to know a planet would be to go there. And to go there, you’d need a spaceship.
Which is why I turned my desk into one.
The funny thing is, when Mrs. English saw it, she didn’t even know what it was.
“Elvin! Why did you turn your desk into a piñata?”
A piñata? I knew Mrs. English had vision issues, but wow! If I’m going to get in trouble for drawing on my desk, it better be for an awesome space vehicle, not a pony covered in crepe paper. In the end, though, it didn’t matter what Mrs. English thought it was.
“I will see you in the principal’s office immediately after school, Mr. Link.”
This was not the first time I’d been in trouble for drawing on things. I’m a regular in after-school detention, so they might as well name it after me.
In fact, it’s where I met Carlos, who is my best friend. But more on him later.
Here’s who else didn’t go for my desk spaceship: well, a lot of people, actually. And they lined up in the principal’s office after school to tell me. Mrs. English went first.
Because sometimes pictures say things better than words?
Mr. Trinkle, a science teacher, went next.
I hadn’t “defaced” a tray. I’d drawn utensils that were way cooler! But this was not my time to talk.
Next was the school principal, Principal Weeks.
The cityscape had been for a class project. The lockers basically look like the outlines of buildings, so I added some details.
“We’ve got a project for you, Elvin,” Principal Weeks continued. “Some people keep a daily journal or diary. They write down things that are important to them: their thoughts, their feelings, or even just stuff they find interesting. Whenever you feel inspired to draw something on a wall or a locker or a tray, we’d like you to draw it here instead. And we’d like you to do that from now until the end of the school year.”
Turdmuffins, I thought.
Or maybe I said it out loud.
“Elvin!” Principal Weeks said, handing me a blank notebook. “Put that in here.”
“You can draw whatever you’re feeling, Elvin—anything, good or bad. You won’t get in trouble for it. But if you’re going to stay out of summer school, you’ve got to keep your drawings in this journal. Understood?”
* * *
The school janitor, Mr. Torres, was also there. He had carried my desk all the way to Principal Weeks’s office. It was his turn to speak, but he didn’t say anything.
He just handed me cleaning supplies and nodded at me and then at the desk. I didn’t have to ask what the nods meant. I don’t cheat or steal or swear or push kids down the stairs. I draw. Drawing is good, right? How could it be that the one good thing I liked was going to ruin my life?
What might have seemed like the beginning of the worst week ever turned out to be the best. This is the story of how that happened.
With pictures, naturally.
Copyright © 2020 by Drew Dernavich.