Maci Masaki Makes Her Mark Read online

  The website for comic club says they meet every Tuesday. They are having a contest for the school mural. The entries for the contest are due tomorrow. There is a link to submit them. The club will vote at the next meeting. This club seems cute. I want to go. Maybe I will join this club.

  Maybe I can show them Turtle Samantha.

  The lunchroom looks totally different. The walls in the cafeteria look fresh. They are all white. The school must have taken off all the old posters that used to be there.

  After morning classes, I take my lunch box and sit under the far table in the cafeteria. It is a great spot. From here, I have a good view of the fish tank on the wall. I like to draw Turtle Samantha under the table. I eat my lunch very quickly. The floor of the cafeteria is not clean, so I sit on my coat. My parents do not know I sit under the table. They would not be happy about this.

  I made a movie for Nanae on my phone from under the table. She said that it was a very good video. She said that the kids who sit above the table were funny But too bad they were above the table! I think she wants me to sit above the table.

  These are the people who sit above the table:

  1. One girl: Amy Price.

  Amy is really different from my Tokyo friends. She is really confident. She has a calendar. She records notes for herself out loud on a recorder. Sometimes, I hear her and Eli sing together. I like the way they sing.

  2. Two boys: Jayden and Eli.

  Jayden was very angry for a while. He never talked to anyone. I used to see his sneakers way at the other end of the table. But then he became friends with Eli. Now they sit together and talk about their band.

  Today, the above-table kids are talking about Jayden and Eli’s band.

  “I wish I had a guitar,” Jayden says. “I hate these bucket drums.”

  I feel bad for Jayden. He never seems to have the things he needs. I look at my violin case. I am carrying it around because it won’t fit in my locker. It’s so annoying. I get an idea. But the idea requires me to go above the table. I don’t know if I want to do this.

  So, I just take my violin and slide it up to the seats.

  “What the...?” Jayden says, as he pulls the violin up on the table.

  He takes the case and opens it. “A violin?” Jayden says. “Nifty”

  I don’t know what nifty means, but it sounds good. Maybe it is like “radical bananas.”

  Then Eli and Jayden duck their heads under the table. “Hey.”

  They stare at me.

  I wave. Then I go back to drawing.

  I don’t have to have a violin anymore. Problem solved.

  “Wait! Why are you handing us this violin?” Eli asks.

  “I don’t like it,” I say.

  They look like they need more of an answer. “You said you needed a guitar,” I add.

  “Yeah, but come on, man, you can’t just give your violin away. This is mad expensive,” Jayden says.

  “And it’s not a guitar,” Eli says.

  “Duh!” Jayden says. “But it’s a string instrument. AND it’s not just a violin. It’s a Suzuki. These are from Japan. They’re awesome. This would be so cool. Could you teach me, Maci? I could just borrow it.”

  I think for a moment. Nanae would want me to teach Jayden. I nod.

  “Domo arigato!” Jayden says.

  I laugh. “You’re welcome.” They know more Japanese than I thought.

  “Do a fist bump!” Eli says. He demonstrates a fist bump with Jayden.

  I smile. “Okay. Weird, but okay.”

  “We’re weird? You’re the weirdo hanging out UNDER the lunch table.”

  “So...”

  “Don’t you want to have friends?” Jayden says.

  I shrug. “Not really.”

  “Come on. We are the best people ever! Sit up here with us,” Eli says.

  I think about this. I don’t really want to talk, but it would be nice to have a better drawing surface. “Okay,” I say.

  I tell them everything I know about violin from my lessons.

  “We’re part of a band. We play in front of the train stop each afternoon,” Eli says.

  “Want to hear?” Jayden asks.

  I listen to their music on headphones. It is very loud! But it’s cool!

  “You should draw our album cover!” Jayden says.

  Eli smiles. “We would be so cool then!”

  “We’re already cool,” Jayden says.

  “Not really,” Eli says. “We are total weirdos.”

  Jayden laughs. “It’s cool to be weird these days.”

  I nod. “That is so true.”

  “She knows! She’s all neon!” Jayden says ^ and points to my bright shoes and accessories. They don’t match my uniform. I flush.

  “No, those are dope, Maci,” Jayden smiles. “Your style is fly!” I smile. American expressions are very weird.

  “So, what? You going to draw our album art?” Jayden says. “We can pay you.”

  I am embarrassed that Jayden brought up money. This is impolite to me. Americans talk about money a lot. But I think Jayden wants to compliment me, so I say, “Okay. Thank you! Yes. I would like to draw your music album.”

  Just like that, I have new friends.

  On the train home from school, I decide I will join comic club. I really want to enter an idea for the mural contest.

  That night, I draw for a long time at my kitchen table. I draw fourteen different ideas for the mural. At first, they have Turtle Samantha, but then she disappears. Instead, I start to draw Eli, Jayden, and Amy as fish. Then I draw other kids as fish. I draw them all in a big fish tank. A big tank of fish students. A school of fish. Many different fish swimming together.

  I eat dinner with my parents. I don’t tell them about today. I stay up drawing. I don’t realize that it’s 11:45 p.m. I scan my drawing and then send it.

  The next day, I see Jayden, Eli, and Amy in the hall. Eli and Amy wave to me. I wave to Jayden. Maybe he is shyer than me. Maybe this school is not so bad anymore.

  After school, I find comic club.

  The school is very different after dismissal. There is the smell of popcorn. There is loud rap music. When I open the door, kids are laughing. They don’t have their uniforms on anymore. One of them is standing on a chair.

  I am so nervous. Maybe I should just walk out. They look like they are all friends. Maybe they are super-good artists. Or maybe they are horrible artists. Either way, I’m too scared to join right now. I’m about to leave, but a girl grabs my arm. In Japan, it would be so rude to grab a stranger’s arm.

  The girl says, “Hey, lady! Welcome to the monkey house!”

  “Monkey house?” These American expressions are confusing.

  “Oh, that’s just what we call comic club.” She points to a huge banner that says “MONKEY HOUSE” above the desks.

  “Oh.” I smile.

  “I’m Audrey. What’s your name?” she asks.

  “Maci Masaki,” I say. Sometimes it’s weird to say my American name. But I think my Japanese name is too difficult.

  “Cool. We are just about to vote on the mural design!” Audrey says.

  “I sent one in, last night.”

  “Awesome!” she says.

  Then she claps her hands and tells everyone, “Time for the vote!”

  I take a seat.

  Audrey shows each entry on the screen. We write our votes on ballots.

  I’m not sure if we can vote for our own. I don’t want to ask. I decide to vote for one that is a rainbow that blurs into raindrops. It is really good. Some of the others are really bad. I hope they don’t win.

  Audrey counts the votes. “Drum roll please!” Everyone drums their hands on the tables. Some people make monkey noises.

  Then Audrey says, “The winner is the new girl’s fish tank!”

  I wonder who this new girl is. I look around. Everyone is looking at me.

  Then I realize, Audrey means me! The club chose my idea. I can’t believe it!<
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  A boy says, “You’re a sick manga artist. You should quit school and write a graphic novel.”

  “I wish!” I say.

  Audrey says, “Congratulations!”

  Everyone claps for me. I can’t believe it. This was much easier than I thought. I thought they would not like me. I did not know they would choose my work!

  Audrey says, “For the mural, what if each student in the school wrote a message to go with their fish? Then everyone would be part of the mural?”

  I nod. “This is a cute idea.”

  We spend the rest of the time drawing sketches of the different fish in the mural. I eat some of the popcorn. It is good. I feel like I am in an American movie!

  Audrey says, “We are going to unveil this on February 18 for Parents’ Night. They are going to love it! Can you stay after every day to work on it?” “Totally!” I nod. I use an American expression I learned from Amy.

  The other kids smile. “Cool!”

  I try another Amy expression, “Radical bananas!”

  They look at me, puzzled. “Is that a Japanese saying?”

  I blush. I am so embarrassed!

  I say, “No. I thought it was an American one.”

  Audrey laughs. “Nope! Just a weirdo one!” We are all laughing. I guess my friends are weirdos. I don’t care. I am just happy to have friends who told me about this club! I don’t care if they are weirdos, because I am a weirdo, too! This is the first day of being twelve that hasn’t felt annoying.

  On the train home, I decide not to tell my parents about the mural. I want them to be surprised.

  At home, my mom has made ramen. I love ramen. I miss the ramen shops from Tokyo. I went to one here. It wasn’t the same. Nothing is the same.

  “How was the first week back in school?” my dad asks.

  “Good.” I nod. I am slurping up a big noodle. After I finish chewing, I say, “I joined a club.”

  My mom looks up. She fixes her glasses on her nose and says, “Good. The orchestra?”

  I do not tell them I gave away my violin.

  “No, an art one. We study art,” I say. I want my parents to think it is more serious than comics. They would not understand this.

  “You are studying painters?” my dad asks. “Pretty much.” This is a very useful American saying. I don’t have to be specific.

  “Also, I have made three friends,” I tell my mom.

  My mom sets down her fork. “In the art history club?”

  “No. At the lunch table. Amy, Jayden, and Eli. I am going to draw a picture for the boys. They are musicians.”

  My mother smiles, pleased. I think she is picturing classical musicians. I don’t tell her they are in a metal band.

  Also, I never told my parents that I sit under the table, so I don’t think I need to tell them I sit above the table now.

  My dad says, “We are proud of you.”

  “And tonight I will organize my room.”

  My dad’s eyes shine with pride. “Yes! An ordered space is an ordered mind.”

  I nod. My parents offer me matcha ice cream for dessert. They are no longer angry. I cannot wait for them to come to Parents’ Night and see my design. They will be so proud!

  Each day after school, I work on the mural. In the second-to-last week of January, I draw each fish in pencil on the wall. It is fun. I am a real artist.

  I listen to music and draw alone in the cafeteria. Sometimes, people from the comic club come to help, but mostly it is just me. After I draw the fish, I begin to paint them.

  One day at lunch, a girl and a boy admire my work. “Who did this?” they ask each other.

  “It’s Maci Masaki!” Eli says. “She is a very talented artist. Do you want her autograph?”

  I am so embarrassed when Eli says this, but then the boy says, “Sure.”

  “Yeah, me too,” the girl says.

  I sign pieces of paper. I feel like I am a celebrity. I feel proud of myself when kids know me in the hall. More and more students tell me they like my fish mural.

  The students smile and tell me they like the fish. They all want to know which fish will be theirs.

  I tell Amy that her fish is going to be a shark. Jayden’s is going to be a purple betta fish. Eli’s is going to be an angelfish.

  “Yes! Shark!” Amy says. “How did you know I like sharks?”

  “You talked about them a lot before. When I was under the table.”

  Amy laughs. “Wow, weird AND creepy!” “Which fish are you?” Eli asks.

  Jayden looks up from his lunch. “She is totally a neon tetra.”

  Eli laughs. “How do you know types of fish?”

  “What, you think I’m not smart?” Jayden looks angry.

  Eli blushes. “No, you’re a genius for music. Not fish.”

  “I read a lot of hospital magazines when my mom’s working. About a lot of things.” Jayden’s face softens. He laughs. “Including tropical fish.”

  Everyone laughs at this.

  “We are all so weird!” Eli says. “Maci was sitting under the table! You and I are in a heavy metal band. Amy says weird words no one else says.”

  Amy laughs. “That’s called being a poet. I was not weird at my old school.”

  “That’s because your old school was a weirdo paradise!” Eli says.

  Amy smiles. “Yes...but, still a paradise!” Then she looks up the neon tetra fish online.

  “Maci is totally a neon tetra. You shine!” Amy shows me the picture of this small, bright blue fish. It has a red tail.

  “Yes! I like the neon tetra!” I say. Actually, I love the neon tetra! I am so happy my friends think I am this fish.

  After many hours of work, I finish painting every fish. Our principal, Dr. Waters, got me sparkly paint. Stepping back from the mural, I see that it is beautiful. The fish swim all around the cafeteria. I take a lot of photos. I text them to Nanae. She texts back, “I love it. So cute. Now you are a famous artist. Maybe start a blog?” This is a great idea!

  T he next morning, Amy sees me walk into school. She calls, “Maci!”

  I turn. “Konnichiwa!”

  But she doesn’t say hello back. She looks serious. She says, “The mural is all messed up.” “What?”

  “Digby Praxton wrote swear words in the boxes above the fish.” Digby is the school bully.

  “What?” I am shocked.

  “Come see,” Amy says. We walk into the cafeteria.

  The mural has black marker all over it. Digby wrote swears and insults in the speech bubbles for the fish. He drew crosses over their eyes to make them look dead. I am so angry. I want to go back under the table. I just want to draw for myself. I want to be Turtle Samantha again.

  I cannot hide it. I start to cry.

  “It’s okay,” Amy says. She hugs me. “We can fix it.”

  “How? Parents’ Night is tomorrow after school! There is so much damage. It will take me days to fix it.”

  “I’m sure there’s something we can do.”

  “I don’t think so,” I say, as more tears burn my cheeks.

  After school, I try to fix the marker. It does not come off easily. I have to either paint the entire fish over or use a tiny brush to repaint the color over it. At 8:00 p.m., the maintenance worker tells me she needs to lock the school for the night.

  At home, I slump on the table.

  My father has made rice and shrimp, but I don’t want to eat any of it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I decide to tell them the whole story. I tell them that art history club is really comic club. I tell them I submitted a design. I tell them it won. That I painted it. That a kid without a soul ruined it. And he didn’t admit to it, so he didn’t even get in trouble.

  “The club selected your design?” my father asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. That is a true honor.’

  But I wanted them to see it at Parents’ Night!