Zib's Kid

Chapter 6

The next morning Zib brought Rocky to the cafe for breakfast. Alex saluted them with a smile.

"Hey little lad! My friend Leo told me you had a little trip downstairs last night."
"Yeah, I did!" Zib cleared his throat and elbowed him. "It's supposed to be a secret."
"Oh, yeah, don't worry," Alex looked around as if he was making sure no one was watching. "Us, the ones who know, we use code words to talk about it without anybody else knowing. For example, we call it the basement. Pretty big, huh?"
"Yeah!" Rocky was gonna comment on all the things he did down there but he stopped himself, "So many things you keep in there!"

Alex winked at him.

"Ah, you catch on quick! Look, I got ya something. You can try them out while I make the pancakes."

He handed Rocky a little flat and yellow cardboard box with a set of 8 crayons. Rocky's eyes filled with awe as he took them. They were brand new.

"And you're gonna need this too, I reckon." Alex gave him a little notepad to go with them and the little boy just ran with it towards the closest booth.
"Aren't you forgetting something, kid?" asked Zib.
"IS THERE MORE?" asked Rocky.
"You're supposed to say 'thank you'."
"Oh. Thank you!!" said Rocky, and started scribbling away.

Zib sighed. "I'm sorry about that. Kids, right?"
"Don't worry, I know them."
"I hope that wasn't too expensive."
"Are you kidding me? It's the cheapest thing in the market, and it's very practical, keeps them distracted as long as they keep to the paper and don't use them on anything else."

Zib nodded in thought. "Not bad! I could work with that," he looked over his shoulder. Rocky's form was grotesque, grabbing the crayon like he meant to stab the paper, his nose nearly stuck to the page, but he was enthusiastic.

"...You think he may have a thing for art?"
"Only one way to find out. Want me to teach him? You know I play guitar."
"Nah, nevermind. I was just wondering..."

Parents encourage their kids to go to school and all that, but not all of us turn geniuses. Some of us always tend towards music, he thought.

Not all kids ask to be read poetry at night.

"Takes one to know one, huh? That may be good for him."
"You think so?" Zib looked at Alex questioningly.
"Well, I'm not a professional like you, but it still feels good. Maybe he could use a little of that."

Zib looked back at the kid and after a pause, he walked towards the booth.

"Hey, what should I get you?"
"Uh, coffee and a sandwich, as usual."
"On it."

He sat across from him and looked on. Rocky's drawings were nothing but curved, sharp lines and scribbles, but he seemed deeply focused. What did each of them mean? What happened within that head of his? If only he could put that concentration to good use.

"What are you drawing?"
"Nice things," Rocky smiled.
"Ah."
"Like roses and pancakes."
"Oh. Wait, you mean like... when I first asked you to draw?"
"Mhm. But now in full color!!"

Zib felt a pang of guilt at the fact that, when he had asked, he only meant to distract the kid while he was busy. But it seemed he had taken it to heart. Rocky finished one of the pages and moved to another one, switching colors.

"May I see that?" asked Zib, and Rocky passed him the finished drawing.

The paper was small, and if he hadn't known what it was supposed to represent, he couldn't have guessed, but the colors did help. There was a stream of straight green lines and a mess of red at the top. And then another, and another.
Roses. Red roses.

Zib lifted his gaze. Now Rocky was using black, orange and yellow. Once he finished he passed them to him.

"Okay, what is this?" he pointed at a black circular line.
"That's the plate."
"Oooh, and these are the pancakes?"
"Yeah!"
"...And the orange stuff is the syrup."
"Mhm!"
"...That's why it's everywhere."
"Lots of syrup!"
"Just the way you like it."