Kathryn Erskine - Mockingbird

Feel free to use the colored pencils or pastels too, he says.

I shake my head. I don’t use colors. My drawings are black and white with no blurry stuff. It’s easier to see that way. Blurry is good for stuffed-animaling but not for drawin g.

Mr. Walters tilts his head like he doesn’t Get It but I don’t want to explain right now because I’m busy drawing.

Wow, a voice behind me says. That’s so awesome! Did you really draw that?

I put my arms over the picture to cover it up before turning around to see Emma from school.

Let’s see it, she says.

No.

Come on! Keep going! I want to watch!

I can’t do it if you’re watching, I tell her.

Please?

No!

A hand squeezes Emma’s shoulder. A woman’s voice says, Let’s give her some space and we can come back when she’s done.

Emma makes a snorty sound but moves away.

Good. I’m still stuck on the eyes of my picture however and I stare at the paper.

You need to look at my eyes, Mr. Walters says.

I sigh. Are you related to Mrs. Brook?

No. Why?

She always wants me to look in her eyes too.

Eyes are the windows to the soul, Mr. Walters says. If you look inside the eyes you can see so much about a person.

I Look At The Person including his eyes. Really?

He smiles and nods.

But there is something wrong with his smile. I stare into his eyes. Maybe what’s wrong is his eyes. They don’t look happy like the photos of happy eyes Mrs. Brook has shown me. Maybe his smile is not big enough to push his eyes up at the corners like happy eyes are supposed to be. Something’s wrong, I tell him.

Why do you say that?

Your eyes and mouth don’t match.

Ah, he says as he nods. Maybe you’re better at emotions than you think.

Except I don’t know which is right.

Both. I’m smiling because I think you’re a wonderful talented girl. My eyes are sad because I’m thinking about what you and your dad are going through.

I think for a minute about what he means. Oh. Because of Devon.

Yes. Because of Devon. He was in my class one quarter. I miss him. Everyone here misses him.

Why do you miss him? You’re the art teacher. He can’t even draw.

We all have different passions. His passion was being an Eagle Scout.

He won’t be able to finish his chest though so he can’t ever make Eagle.

He nods. I heard about that chest. His voice is crackly. It’s so hard.

Devon says if it’s hard that just means you have to Work At It.

He shrugs but sniffs too much to talk.

Maybe you need to find Closure.

He Looks At The Person. I think we all need to find Closure. It hurt the whole community. We’re all sad. His eyes are so sad now they are starting to water.

I put the pencil down on the easel tray. I don’t feel like drawing anymore.

He jumps up from the stool. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel sad. He looks at the paper on the easel. Wow. That is amazing. Don’t you want to give the eyes a try?

I shake my head. I don’t think I can do a complete face yet. Maybe later.

He pulls his eyeless picture off the easel and hands it to me.

After Dad is in bed I sneak into Devon’s room and tape Mr. Walters on the wall next to my picture of the eagle. This is the first picture of a face I’ve ever done. Even if it doesn’t have eyes.

ON TUESDAY NIGHT I WALK INTO the kitchen and Dad is standing at the sink.

What’s for dinner? I ask.

He turns around fast and his eyes are big which means surprise I think. Except why would he be surprised when he knows I live here?

What? I say.

I’m sorry. He turns back to the sink. I was lost…

You’re in the kitchen, I tell him. It’s next to the living room. Then there’s the hall that goes to —

I know Caitlin. What I meant was I’m feeling a little lost. He grips the edge of the sink. You’ll be starting at the… middle school… next year.

No. I’ll be starting at the middle school in August. That’s this year.

He turns and Looks At The Person. Are you — He stops and puts his hand over his mouth. Then he takes it away again. Are you okay with going to… that school?

Virginia Dare?

He sucks in his breath when I say it.

Devon’s school?

He closes his eyes.

I shrug. I guess. They don’t have recess in middle school and I don’t like recess.

Dad opens his eyes but he still stares at the air. If I could afford to pay for a private school for you I would.

People talk about private schools but I don’t know exactly what they are. So I ask. Does private mean I’m the only one in the school? Because I’d like that a lot.

No. Of course not.

So it’s just like a regular school?

Pretty much.

I shake my head. Then I don’t want private. I’m fine with the regular one.

He nods and lets out a big breath. Okay.

I DON’T HAVE MY MRS. BROOK time because she’s still visiting her difficult sister.

Instead I have to go to recess with the rest of the class and miss little kid recess. I lost my friend in little kid recess anyway so I don’t really mind. What I do mind is passing Michael’s class in the hall on the way back and seeing Josh give him a high five. I don’t look at Michael but he says, HI CAITLIN! even though there is No Talking In The Halls and out of the edge of my eye I see him give me our special wave except I don’t think it’s so special anymore so I don’t wave back.

My class goes to the computer lab. Mrs. Johnson says we have free time and can look up any topic we want to learn more about as long as it’s not computer games. I read about Eagle Scouts and Eagle Scout projects. None of them are as good as Devon’s chest. Except that they’re finished.

I get a recess feeling in my stomach and try not to think about the Eagle Scout project that never got to exist. Or the Eagle Scout. I start stuffed-animaling the computer monitor with the window behind it into one big grayish blur until I hear Mrs. Johnson’s voice in my ear that we have three minutes left and if there’s one last thing we want to look up now is the time.

I suddenly remember I should be researching Closure because maybe there’s even a better definition than in my Dictionary so I look it up and this is what I find:

— the act of bringing to an end; a conclusion

— example: They finally brought the project to closure.

I see Devon’s Eagle Scout project in my head and think about how much he wanted to finish it and become an Eagle Scout. And how he was going to teach me how to do woodworking too. And then I start shaking my hands fast and my Heart is pounding in my ears and it’s hard to breathe and I hear moaning and it must be me because Mrs. Johnson says, Caitlin are you all right? And I hear myself scream to the whole world and I think in my head, Now I know how to experience an emotional conclusion to a difficult life event! and Mrs. Johnson is gripping my shoulders and shaking me and I don’t even mind and she screams, What is it? What is it? and I shout loud enough for Devon to hear me up in Heaven, I GET IT! I GET IT! I GET IT! I GET IT!