The Bold Beasties Clubhouse

On Monday, Kendrick drew a line.

It was a small, wobbly line at the bottom of a very large piece of paper.

“A worm?” asked Richie.

“Perhaps,” said Kendrick.

“A sleeping noodle?”

“Possibly.”

Kendrick tucked his pencil behind his ear. It fell out. He tucked it into his green scarf instead.

The Clubhouse picture party was on Saturday. Everyone was making something for the big wall. Pandora had drawn up a list of pictures, a list of picture hooks and a little list explaining the other two lists.

Beside Kendrick’s name she wrote: SURPRISE.

On Tuesday, Kendrick carried his paper to the pond.

He watched a tiny ripple wobble around a reed. Then a second ripple joined it. For a moment, the pond wore a necklace.

Kendrick added three curved lines to his drawing.

“Now is it finished?” asked Richie.

“Not yet.”

“Mine has a volcano AND a rocket.” Richie paused. “The rocket is also a sandwich.”

Kendrick smiled. Then he looked at his own picture. It seemed terribly empty.

Richie's rocket could reach the moon. Kendrick's line hadn't reached the other side of the paper.

What if everyone thought he drew like a baby?

He slid his paw over the line.

On Wednesday, he tried drawing quickly.

He drew a tree, a door, seven windows and something that might have been a bicycle. His pencil hurried faster than his thoughts.

SNAP.

The point broke.

Kendrick stared at the grey tangle. His ears drooped.

“That isn’t what I meant,” he whispered.

He turned the paper over. On the other side waited his little line and the three pond ripples.

Siegfried sat beside him without saying anything. After a while, he offered Kendrick a freshly sharpened pencil.

“Is mine too little for the party?” asked Kendrick.

“Last week I hid a picture behind the cupboard,” said Siegfried. “I thought everyone else's would be better.”

Kendrick looked up. “You did?”

“It is still there. I must remember to fetch it.”

He settled more comfortably beside Kendrick.

“I'd like to sit with you at the party. Even if you bring a blank page.”

“What were you looking at when you drew those?” he asked.

Kendrick told him about the pond necklace.

“I didn’t see that,” said Siegfried. “Will you show me?”

On Thursday, they went together.

On the way, Kendrick noticed a beetle travelling across a leaf. It stopped at the edge, turned round and travelled back, as though it had forgotten its shopping.

He drew its tiny feet.

He noticed a fallen feather trembling in the grass. He drew that too.

Then he found a snail beneath a curling leaf.

“There you are,” he said.

The little line had been waiting for its snail all along.

On Friday, rain tapped the Clubhouse roof.

Kendrick sat at the window and added the leaf, the feather and a shining drop of water. His snail was travelling through a world so small that he could cover it with one paw.

Outside, Richie splashed past in his boots.

Inside, Kendrick’s pencil scratched softly.

He was still drawing when Pandora arrived with the picture-party list.

“Do you need another day?” she asked.

Kendrick looked at the spaces around his snail. Yesterday they had seemed empty. Now they felt quiet.

He added one last blade of grass.

“No,” he said. “I think it has everything it needs.”

On Saturday, the big wall filled with colour.

There was Richie’s sandwich rocket. There was Siegfried’s purple afternoon. There was a picture of Connor wearing a bird like a hat, which Connor said was remarkably accurate.

Kendrick hung his small drawing near the bottom, where the youngest visitors could see it.

For a while, nobody stopped.

Siegfried brought two cushions over. He put one beside Kendrick and sat on the other.

Then Madge leaned close.

“Look at its feet!” she said.

“Snails haven’t got feet,” said Pandora, coming over to investigate.

“The beetle,” said Madge.

Soon everyone was looking. They found the feather. They found the pond necklace. They found the rain caught on the tip of the leaf.

Richie bent so close that his nose nearly touched the paper.

“There’s a whole adventure in here.”

“A little one,” said Kendrick.

“A really big little one.”

Pandora took out her pencil. Beside Kendrick’s name she crossed out SURPRISE and wrote THE VERY SLOW MASTERPIECE.

That evening, Kendrick opened his notebook to a clean page.

He drew a dot.

Richie peered over his shoulder.

“A moon? A berry? A sandwich rocket seen from very far away?”

Kendrick tucked his pencil into his scarf.

“Let’s have a look tomorrow.”