Bridgewater Middle School A Day in the Life of a Doodle

The way Mr. Mack cleared his throat gave me the feeling that it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get my attention. Oops. I glanced at the desks around me and realized I wasn’t even on the right page. Figures.

Carter Johnson leaned over to see what had kept me so busy. He sneered at my half-finished sketch. "Dweeb," he muttered.

I slid down my chair, wondering for the zillionth time how such a big meathead could be in the same grade as me. Then I flipped my notebook shut and looked up.

Mr. Mack sighed and repeated the question. I squeaked out an answer that was apparently not awful because the Mackman nodded and turned to the next victim, I mean student.

I ignored my notebook for the rest of class, and did my best approximation of paying attention. When the bell rang, I shot out of there. I should have headed to the cafeteria before the lunch line got insane, but nature called. I ducked into the bathroom.

"Get me out of here," someone squeaked.

I checked the stalls. For once, the bathroom was empty. Where had the voice come from? Probably the pipes, I figured, and went about my business. I was drying my hands when I heard it again.

"Come on already! It’s getting hot in here."

That’s when my backpack started shaking. I unzipped my bag and poked through books, gym shorts and – oops – a forgotten note to my parents. My notebook dropped to the floor.

"Ow!"

"A talking notebook?" Was I going crazy?

"No, dummy. Look inside!"

I flipped through the pages.

My latest doodle gasped. "Fresh air, finally!" He yanked his fingers through his hair, spiking it more than it had been. Then he looked to me. "Well?"

"Well, what?" I couldn’t believe I was talking to a drawing.

"Are you going to finish me or what?"

"Huh?"

"Finish me!" It was not a request.

I fished a pencil out of my bag and gave my doodle baggy jeans and sneakers. For kicks, I added a skateboard.

"Nice wheels," he said. "Now if we could do something about food. I haven’t eaten since, well, ever."

My own stomach grumbled, but I ignored it. Instead I drew him a triangle with circles inside.

"What’s this supposed to be?" he said, scrunching his nose. "Swiss cheese?"

"No," I sighed. "Pepperoni pizza."

My doodle shrugged, and popped the food into his mouth. It disappeared from the page.

Next, I drew a plate piled high with squiggles. "Spaghetti," I explained.

Down the hatch it went. He burped. "Delicious. Now, about that kid in your class with the bad attitude."

"You mean Carter Johnson?"

"Yeah, him. I’ve got some words for that guy." My doodle crossed his arms. "Nobody calls me a dweeb and gets away with it."

"He was talking to me, not you."

I could have sworn my doodle turned red. "Nobody calls my maker a dweeb, either."

"You just called me a dummy," I pointed out.

"That’s different," he huffed. "Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this."

Before I could say anything, he pushed off on his skateboard, leaving a hole on the page. Then he slid through the crack under the door.

I ran out of the bathroom just in time to see him turn the
corner. "Stop! You’re just a piece of paper!"

My doodle didn’t turn back.

It was too late. My doodle was running down the hall screaming "CARTER! CARTER! WHERE IS CARTER JOHNSON!?" My doodle was running everywhere yelling Carter's name. ...

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AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! "Are you done screaming yet?" Doodle said with an annoyed, but amused voice. My back hurt. Maybe it was from landing on Carter Johnson. That will teach him a lesson for tripping me in third grade, I thought with a grin on my face. I saw Carter pull himself up and look around. He was dazed and confused. Making my voice sound as cold as ice, I said, "Where are we Doodle? Tell me now!" Doodle lost that amused look on his face and took a step away from me, as if I would jump him at any second. It took a few minutes for him to answer me; he opened his mouth and said, "You are in my world now. This is where all the drawings roam free to do whatever they want.” Doodle said with a monotone voice, "Um, OK? Can you like GET ME OUT OF HERE?!" Carter and the bully mimicked in doodles monotone voice. Now I know whose voice Doodle was copying.
"Sorry, ...

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''Well, now how do you suppose we get out of here?!" Yelled Carter. ''The only way out is to find the magic pencil.'' said Doodle. ‘‘Oh, what now, we have to find a magic pencil!!'' everyone stared, questioning the thought of having to get a pencil.
...

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“Ok, so when will we leave for Candy Mountain?” I say. “When we find a magical unicorn named Charlie” said Carter. “Who exactly is Charlie? Is he your friend? I ask. “Wow, do you seriously not know who Charlie is?” said Carter. (Charlie is a unicorn in a YouTube video.)

“Oh, ...

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"Uh, who is the Banana King, Charlie?" "The banana king is the all mighty ruler (in a whisper) "OH NO ITS THOSE ANNOYING UNICORNS!!" yelled Charlie. "NO NOT THOSE TWO!" yelled Carter. "The who?" "Charlie, I thought you were the banana king." I said. “I QUIT, BUT THERE'S NO TURNING BACK!" Suddenly, the banana king disappeared, but for some reason not his crown. Suddenly the crown started floating toward Charlie. It floated above Charlie’s head and then he yelled, "NO, NOOO!" The crown fell down on Charlie`s head and then BOOM!!!!! Charlie suddenly appears as a-a-a banana?? "Uh, Charlie, where’s the magic pencil?" “THE MAGIC PENCIL SHALL NEVER BE FOUND, I AM THE BANANA KING." Charlie, I said were Is the magic pencil?" I SHALL NEVER REVEAL THE LOCATION OF THE MAGIC PENCIL. I AM THE BANANA KING!!" "Come on guys, the banana king won`t help us. Let’s just search the inside of Candy Mountain by ourselves. That’s where I think all the magic things are kept.

"OK, ...

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