home of the one and only ivan
George and Mack are out by the highway. I can see them through one of my windows. They are next to each other on tall wooden ladders, leaning against the billboard that tells the cars to stop and visit the One and Only Ivan, Mighty Silverback.
George has a bucket and a long-handled broom. Mack has pieces of paper. He slaps one against the billboard. George dips the broom into the bucket. He wets the paper with the liquid from the bucket, and somehow the paper stays in place.
They put up many pieces before they are done.
When they climb down from the ladders, I see that they’ve added a picture of a little elephant to the billboard. The elephant has a lopsided smile. She is wearing a red hat, and her tail curls like a pig’s. She doesn’t look like Ruby. She doesn’t even look like an elephant.
I’ve only known Ruby one day, and I could have drawn her better.
art lesson
Ruby asks a lot of questions. She says, “Ivan, why is your tummy so big?” and “Have you ever seen a green giraffe?” and “Can you get me one of those pink clouds that the humans are eating?”
When Ruby asks, “What is that on your wall?” I explain that it’s a jungle. She says the flowers have no scent and the waterfall has no water and the trees have no roots.
“I am aware of that,” I say. “It’s art. A picture made with paint.”
“Do you know how to make art?” Ruby asks.
“Yes, I do,” I say, and I puff up my chest, just a little. “I’ve always been an artist. I love drawing.”
“Why do you love it?” Ruby asks.
I pause. I’ve never talked to anyone about this before. “When I’m drawing a picture, I feel … quiet inside.”
Ruby frowns. “Quiet is boring.”
“Not always.”
Ruby scratches the back of her neck with her trunk. “What do you draw, anyway?”
“Bananas, mostly. Things in my domain. My drawings sell at the gift store for twenty-five dollars apiece, with a frame.”
“What’s a frame?” Ruby asks. “What’s a dollar? What’s a gift store?”
I close my eyes. “I’m a little sleepy, Ruby.”
“Have you ever driven a truck?” Ruby asks.
I don’t answer.
“Ivan?” Ruby asks. “Can Bob fly?”
A memory flashes past, surprising me. I think of my father, snoring peacefully under the sun while I try every trick I know to wake him.
Perhaps, I realize, he wasn’t really such a sound sleeper after all.
treat
“How’s that foot, old girl?” George asks Stella.
Stella pokes her trunk between the bars. She inspects George’s right shirt pocket for the treat he brings her every night without fail.
George doesn’t always bring me treats. Stella’s his favorite, but I don’t mind. She’s my favorite too.
Stella sees that George’s pocket is empty. She gives George a frustrated nudge with her trunk, and Julia giggles.
Stella moves to George’s left pocket and discovers a carrot. Nimbly she removes it.
Mack walks past. “Toilet’s plugged up in the men’s bathroom,” he says. “Big mess.”
“I’ll take care of it.” George sighs.
Mack turns to leave. “Um, before you go, Mack,” George says, “you might want to take a look at Stella’s foot. I think it’s infected again.”
“Darn thing never does heal up right.” Mack rubs his eyes. “I’ll keep an eye on it. Money’s tight, though. Can’t be calling the vet every time she sneezes.”
George strokes Stella’s trunk. She inspects his pockets one more time, just in case.
“Sorry, girl,” George says, as he watches Mack walk away.
elephant jokes
“Ivan? Bob?”
I blink. The dawn sky is a smudge of gray flecked with pink, like a picture drawn with two crayons. I can just make out Ruby in the shadows, waving hello with her trunk.
“Are you awake?” Ruby asks.
“We are now,” says Bob.
“Aunt Stella’s still asleep and I don’t want to wake her ’cause she said her foot was hurting but I’m really, really”—Ruby pauses for a breath—“really bored.”
Bob opens one eye. “You know what I do when I’m bored?”
“What?” Ruby asks eagerly.
Bob closes his eye. “I sleep.”
“It’s a little early, Ruby,” I say.
“I’m used to getting up early.” Ruby wraps her trunk around one of the bars on her door. “At my old circus we always got up when it was still dark and then we had breakfast and we walked in a circle. And then they chained my feet up, and that really hurt.”
Ruby falls silent. Instantly Bob is snoring.
“Ivan?” Ruby asks. “Do you know any jokes? I especially like jokes about elephants.”
“Um. Well, let me see. I heard Mack tell one once.” I yawn. “Uhh … how can you tell that an elephant has been in the refrigerator?”
“How?”
“By the footprints in the butter.”
Ruby doesn’t react. I sit up on my elbows, trying not to disturb Bob. “Get it?”
“What’s a refrigerator?” Ruby asks.
“It’s a human thing, a cold box with a door. They put food inside.”
“They put food in the door? Or food in the box? And is it a big box?” Ruby asks. “Or a little box?”
I can see this is going to take a while, so I sit up all the way. Bob slides off, grumbling.
I reach for my pencil, the one I snapped in half with my teeth. “Here,” I say, “I’ll draw you a picture of one.”
In the dim light, it takes me a minute to find a piece of the paper Julia gave me. The page is a little damp and has a smear of something orange on it. I think it’s from a tangerine.
I try my best to make a refrigerator. The broken pencil is not cooperating, but I do what I can.
By the time I’m done, the first streaks of morning sun have appeared in flashy cartoon colors. I hold up my picture for Ruby to see.
She studies it intently, her head turned so that one black eye is trained on my drawing. “Wow. You made that! Is this the thing you were telling me about before? Art?”
“Sure is. I can draw all kinds of things. I’m especially good at fruit.”
“Could you draw a banana right now?” Ruby asks.
“Absolutely.” I turn the paper over and sketch.
“Wow,” Ruby says again in an awed voice when I hold up the page. “It looks good enough to eat!”