“Chase, how are you today? Having a good day at school?” Mr. Tucker asked politely from behind the huge desk topped by the brass plate marked COUNSELOR..
“Yes, sir. But I didn't get to finish my dessert at lunch,” Chase said as he scooted his small frame further back in the chair.
“Are you upset about anything?” Mr. Tucker toyed with a pencil and waited for Chase to answer.
“I don't think so. It wasn't my favorite dessert anyway,” Chase whispered.
“Nothing going on at home that might have you upset?”
“Nah unh.”
“You know that it's okay to tell teachers when things are bothering you, don't you?”
“Yes, sir. Teachers and policemen and other trusted adults,” Chase parroted.
“That's right, Chase. Adults that you trust.”
“Yep.”
“Maybe it's not something at home that has you upset. Maybe it's something you saw on the news?”
“I don't watch the news much,” Chase shrugged. “But I like to watch the weatherman. He's funny.”
“You must watch channel 5 then, right?” Mr. Tucker said noticing that his eyelid had started to twitch.
“Yes, sir. The weatherman with the outfits that show the weather. I like it best when he dresses for rain in those funny boots.”
“Yes, that's funny. So you're feeling pretty happy most of the time?”
“Yes sir,” Chase chirped. “Last week was my birthday and I had a party.”
“That's nice. Parties are always fun,” Mr. Tucker sighed and briefly pressed his eyelid closed.
“Mine had a magician.”
“I see. Do you like art class, Chase?”
“Yes, sir. I like it a lot,” Chase answered, smiling broadly.
“You really like to draw and color?
“Yes, I really, really do. And it's great being able to use all the paper we want.”
“Yes, you do use a lot of paper Mrs. Simmons says. Several pieces in every class.”
“She said that was okay,” Chase mumbled.
“Oh, the paper is fine. We want you to be able to draw all you want to during art class.”
“Okay.”
“And we want you to draw things that make you happy. Fun things.”
“Okay.”
"But, Chase…your pictures aren"t very happy!” Mr. Tucker burst out. “Your pictures are a little scary to Mrs. Simmons.”
“Huh? I don't draw scary pictures!” Chase said as he slid to the front of the chair. “I draw horses and trees and houses and clowns. Those are happy things!”
“True. Those are the shapes you draw. But every single one of them is black. You only use a black crayon. Black is not happy and Mrs. Simmons is afraid you are mad when you draw,” Mr. Tucker spluttered.
“No, sir. I'm not mad,” Chase said defensively.
“Then what is going on when you draw? Why is everything black?” Mr. Tucker whined.
“Because Mrs. Simmons has everyone pick their crayons out of the bucket.”
“How does that relate to you always choosing black?” Mr. Tucker shouted, finally placing his hand over his fluttering eyelid.
“Oh, I don't pick the black crayon. It's just the only color left when I get there,” Chase calmly replied.
Mr. Tucker folded his arms on his desk and let his head flop down. His muffled voice intoned “Thank you, Chase. You can go back to class now.”
Inna