CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Alex Marsh dumped out the jumbo box of Crayola crayons, a birthday gift from Nina, his favorite teacher at the Woodbrine Center for the Deaf. They all still looked so pointy and new. He pushed the pile around, searched for the right shade of blue. He snatched up a crayon called Navy Blue and drew the outline of a car. He colored in the car, careful to stay in the lines. Next he found the shiny black crayon and made the tires.
He sat back and studied his blue car. One tire was smaller than the other and looked kind of flat. But the car came out pretty good. Movement to his right.
Raindrops splattered against his window and drizzled down. He wondered what rain sounded like. Was it softer or louder than snow? Snow looked bigger so he decided rain must be quieter. But how quiet?
Quieter than the noise that blue car made when it ran over that fancy lady?
He returned to his drawing. He found the flesh-colored crayon and drew the lady’s head in front of the car. He put XX in for eyes, drew an upside-down smile. He finished the body then looked for the reddest red he could find. He scribbled a little on the lady’s head, made drops falling from her head to a puddle below it.
He drew himself and his mother standing on the curb. His mother’s mouth was a big “O”. Tears ran down her face. He drew some other people standing behind them but didn’t bother to give them faces.
Alex studied his drawing. He frowned. Something was missing. He found the black crayon again, its pointy end already gone, and drew lines on the front of the car. It didn’t look much like a dent, but it would have to do. Then he added a rectangle coming out of the back of the car and carefully wrote the six-digit license plate number in the box.
The red light flashed on the Fisher-Price monitor in front of him. Dinnertime.
He neatly folded the drawing and put it away in the bottom right drawer of his desk. The smell of spaghetti sauce drifted up the stairs. He closed the drawer and ran downstairs for spaghetti and meatballs. His favorite.