Calvin and the Sugar Apples by Inês F. Oliveira

Author:Inês F. Oliveira [Oliveira, Inês]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781685550707
Publisher: The Collective Book Studio

Chapter 14

“Dad, can you take the things off your desk?” I shout from Dad’s office. “I need the extra space for homework.”

“Amelia—” Dad says. He drags out the sound like he guesses I have something else besides homework up my sleeve.

“Please,” I say before Dad finishes his sentence.

Dad meets me in his office and takes his keyboard and papers off the desk. He leaves me enough free space to work.

I sit on his chair. It’s big and cozy and has wheels instead of stationary legs. I love using the lever to move the seat up and down, too. Mostly, though, I love sitting up, my legs beneath the desk’s top. I could rule the world from here.

I’ll have my own desk and chair with little wheels when I grow up. I’ll sit high up enough to make my own rules. And when people ask me “Why?” I’ll say, “It’s a rule.” And when people ask “Why?” again, I’ll stare at them confidently and explain: “Because I say so.”

Keeping the chair still is challenging, since my feet still can’t reach the floor. I can manage to draw and paint like a full-grown artist, though.

I leap out of the chair onto the floor. I don’t need to take another step to get to Calvin’s cage. I move it away from the wall to access the back. That’s where the drawings I made for Calvin still live—the only thing Mom didn’t take away from Calvin’s home. I pull them out from behind the bars of the cage. My heart tightens, and my arm gets stuck. I know if I ruin any of them, even if only a bit, the bubbles will grow so big in my throat that I’m sure I’ll die. I’m not being dramatic!

The first drawing comes out. I go for numbers two and three.

My hands are tweezers. I try to be as gentle with the pictures as Calvin likes me to be with him.

I find pieces of fur still hanging from the card paper. Calvin’s soft-like-home smell covers every inch of my drawings. I close my eyes as I breathe it all in. I can hear Calvin. He’s here, jumping and falling around, filling in the space he left in my heart. A silent tear drops over my hand, and I awake to real life. Alone.

The three drawings are out.

I keep them under Dad’s office carpet. It’s sprinkled with colors, reminding me of the sweet peanut butter M&Ms I tried once.

The drawings are safe here, hidden away from Mom’s sight. I don’t want her to think I’m ready to drop them in the garbage just because I took them out of the cage.

I bring my new art and exhibit it in Calvin’s cage. It’s awesome.

“Lucas, Mom, Dad,” I call everyone into Dad’s office.

“Amelia, what’s wrong?” Dad asks.

“Nothing,” I say. “Can you come?”

“Amelia, can you wait?” Mom says.

“No,” I say.

Still, Mom, Dad, and Lucas make me wait, wait, and wait a bit longer. I hate when they do that.

I hear their steps.

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