Sam the Man & the Dragon Van Plan

by Frances O'Roark Dowell

  It was true, Sam thought, taking a bite of his now-cold beans that he didn’t really hate. He was the best planner around. He might be the best planner in the universe.

  And just like that, he knew what he was going to do.

  He would come up with a monster-minivan plan.

  The Bow Tie Minivan Man

  Sam’s dad wanted to get a new minivan, but Sam’s mom wanted to get a used minivan. Annabelle said she didn’t care what kind of minivan they got, as long as the seats were covered in fake leopard skin.

  Sam wanted to go home. There was something depressing about a big showroom full of shiny new minivans. They all looked alike, although the colors were different: silver, light blue, dark blue, dark gray, and a strange brown color called “smoky topaz.” None of the minivans had seats covered in fake leopard skin, so Annabelle lost interest in looking at them after five minutes.

  Sam had never had any interest in the first place. Why were minivans so boring? They were like the brontosauruses of the car world.

  The salesman was named Matt, and he was wearing a polka-dotted bow tie. “Even if folks don’t remember my name, they remember my tie!” he told the Grahams when he introduced himself. Matt was very excited about a new line of minivans. “Nowadays, a minivan is like a house on wheels!” he said. “The Blu-ray player lets you experience movies like you were in your own living room!”

  “No Blu-ray player,” Sam’s mom said.

  “Our kids have enough screen time already,” Sam’s dad said.

  “Then let’s talk about the amazing in-dash satellite radio!” Matt said. “You’re okay with music, right?”

  “Music makes my mom bounce,” Sam said. “So maybe it isn’t a good idea.”

  Matt looked confused. Sam’s mom put her hand on Sam’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard. “Just a family joke,” she told Matt. “But we don’t need a fancy radio setup. Mostly we just listen to CDs.”

  “You know CDs are about to become a thing of the past, right?” Annabelle asked her mom. “Satellite and wireless are really your best options.”

  “She’s absolutely right,” Matt agreed. “Still, a CD player is part of the package. In fact, there’s no reason you can’t get satellite, wireless, and a CD player!”

  Sam’s mom looked at Sam’s dad. “I really think we should consider getting a used van,” she said. “These new minivans are making me nervous.”

  “You’d probably feel pretty bad if you wrecked a new minivan,” Sam agreed. “But if you wrecked an old one, who cares?”

  Sam’s mom looked like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “I think I just wrecked an old minivan this morning,” she said. “But it’s important to take care of your car, whether it’s old or new.”

  “That’s right, Sam the Man,” his dad said. “A used car is just a new car with a few more miles on it. If you take care of it, it will take care of you.”

  Annabelle had been tapping away on her phone. Now she held it up. “There are a ton of used minivans for sale online, Mom. A lot of them look almost new.”

  Matt’s smile looked like it was about to turn into a frown. “A new-model minivan is going to have safety features that an old one doesn’t,” he said. “That’s something to think about.”

  “I think we should think about it over ice cream,” Sam’s mom said. “Let’s go to Smiley’s and discuss.”

  “Matt too?” Sam asked, hoping the answer was no. Matt was nice, but his tie was starting to get on Sam’s nerves.

  “I think Matt is on the job right now,” Sam’s dad said. “But we appreciate how helpful he’s been.”

  “Happy to be of service!” Matt said, although he didn’t sound happy at all. “Come back anytime. Remember, I’m the guy with the tie!”

  “How could we ever forget?” Annabelle muttered as they turned to head to the door.

  “Don’t be rude, Annabelle,” Sam’s mom said.

  “He’s just doing his job, Anna Banana,” his dad said.

  “I don’t think the Anna Banana thing is working out, Dad,” Annabelle said.

  “Can I have two scoops of chocolate-Oreo-mint in a waffle cone with whipped cream and sprinkles and M&Ms?” Sam asked.

  “We’ll see, Sam the Man,” his mom said.

  Sam knew that meant the answer was no. But he also knew that now he could ask for one scoop plus whipped cream and sprinkles, and his mom would think he was being very reasonable and mature and say yes.

  At least that was the plan.

  When they got home from Smiley’s Ice Cream Shop, it was almost Sam’s bedtime. His mom said he could play in his room for fifteen minutes after he put on his pajamas and brushed his teeth, but Sam decided to draw instead of play. He put the minivan brochure Matt had given them at the car dealership on his desk and copied the minivan shape onto a sheet of paper. He drew the windshield and the windows and the doors. He drew the tires.

  “I think a used minivan would be good because we wouldn’t worry if it got a little bit scratched,” Sam had said when they were at Smiley’s.

  “Or if somebody bumped into it in the grocery store parking lot,” Annabelle had added.

  Sam knew why Annabelle wanted a used minivan. If they got a used minivan, she could buy fake leopard-skin material at the craft store and cover the seats with it.

  But what Annabelle didn’t know is that Sam wanted a used minivan because then his mom would let him paint it. Well, he was pretty sure she would let him paint it. She was always saying she wanted Sam to spend more time on arts and crafts and less time on the computer, wasn’t she?

  Sam began to draw dragon scales on the side of the minivan in his picture. He wasn’t sure if he was getting them exactly right. He stood up and walked across the hall to Annabelle’s room.

  “Do you have any pictures of real dragons I could look at?” he asked when Annabelle opened her door.

  “I have the best dragon book ever,” she said. “But you have to promise to be very careful with it, because it’s the only one in the world.”

  Annabelle went over to the wicker trunk at the end of her bed, opened it, and pulled out a folder. “I made this book in fourth grade,” she told Sam, opening the folder. “I’ve always meant to get it published, but I haven’t had the time.”

  Inside the folder was a homemade book. It had a cover and was held together by purple yarn that Annabelle had poked through punched-out holes and then tied. On the front cover was a picture of a fire-breathing dragon wearing a gold crown. Kings + Queens of the Dragon World in Alphabetical Order was written underneath.

  “You may check it out of my room for twenty-four hours,” Annabelle said. “But you have to keep it in the folder when you’re not looking at it, and you have to wash your hands before you touch it.”

  Sam nodded. “I promise,” he said, taking the folder from Annabelle. “And I’ll give it back to you by eight thirty tomorrow night.”

  “Let’s make that eight, just to be on the safe side,” Annabelle said.

  “Okay,” Sam agreed.

  He took the folder back to his room and carefully put it on his desk. Then he went to wash his hands. When he returned he opened up the book and looked at Annabelle’s pictures. It wasn’t until page fourteen when he found exactly the right one. The dragon on page fourteen had a long tail and silvery green scales that looked like the letter C drawn over and over again.

  Sam knew these were exactly the right sort of dragon scales for his monster minivan.

  No, for his family’s monster minivan. Their dragon van.

  Sam smiled and began to draw. He couldn’t wait to show his mom and dad first thing in the morning.

  They were going to love his dragon-minivan plan.

  Dragon Tales

  “Here’s a white one that’s used but really nice,” Sam’s mom said when Sam walked into the kitchen the next morning. She was standing at the counter, drinking coffee and looking at her laptop. Sam could see a picture of a shiny white minivan on the scr
een. “But white gets so dirty, especially in the winter.”

  “White would be good if you ever wanted to paint it another color,” Sam pointed out. He pulled a box of cereal from the cupboard. “Maybe even more than one color.”

  “We could paint a rainbow on it,” Sam’s mom said with a laugh. “We’d have the most cheerful minivan in town.”

  Not in a million years, Sam thought, cringing on the inside.

  But what he said was, “Rainbows are nice.”

  As he poured cereal into a bowl, Sam thought about showing his mom his monster minivan picture, but then decided to wait. For one thing, he wasn’t finished coloring it in yet. For another thing, he had just planted the idea of painting the van in his mom’s brain. Maybe he should give it time to grow.

  “Your dad and I are taking the morning off from work to go look at some used minivans,” Sam’s mom said. “Maybe we’ll have a new car by the time you get home from school.”

  “A new used car?” Sam asked, pouring milk over his cereal.

  “A new-to-us used car,” his mom said. “I wonder—once we drive it, does it become a used used car?”

  “Now I’m confused,” Sam said.

  “Me too,” his mom said.

  When Sam finished breakfast, he went upstairs to get his backpack. He decided to take his monster minivan picture with him to school so he could finish it during lunch. He looked at Annabelle’s book, which was open on his desk. Maybe he should take it too, just in case he needed inspiration.

  Sam put the book back in its folder and put the folder in his backpack. A small voice in his head told him he should probably ask Annabelle’s permission. But if he took the time to ask Annabelle’s permission, then he might miss the bus, and if he missed the bus, then his parents would have to drive him to school, and if his parents drove him to school, they might not have time to look at the used but new-to-them white minivan.

  If his parents didn’t buy the white minivan, then how could Sam turn it into a monster minivan?

  If he asked Annabelle’s permission and he missed the bus and his parents had to drive him and then didn’t buy the white minivan, Sam’s plan for the dragon monster minivan would be ruined!

  So he guessed he wouldn’t ask. He’d just be very careful.

  “If I show you something, can you keep it a secret?” he asked Gavin on the bus. “I mean, you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “I am the best secret keeper in the universe,” Gavin exclaimed. “You can trust me.”

  “How about that time when I told you that I was going to be a football for Halloween, only it was a secret and you told the whole class?”

  “That was last year,” Gavin said. “First grade was different. I was a different person.”

  Sam guessed this was true. In first grade Gavin wore the same pair of socks every day for three weeks. Now he changed his socks once a week, whether he needed to or not.

  Sam pulled out his drawing from his backpack along with Annabelle’s folder. “We’re getting a new minivan, and I get to paint it to look like a dragon,” he told Gavin.

  “Your mom and dad said you could?” Gavin’s eyes got wide.

  “It’s going to be a used minivan,” Sam explained without actually answering Gavin’s question. “So it’s okay to paint on it.”

  “A dragon would be really cool!” Gavin said. “Will it be a fire-breathing dragon?”

  “Of course,” Sam said. “Here, look at my picture. It’s not done yet, but you’ll get the idea.”

  Gavin looked at Sam’s picture. “That looks like a real dragon!”

  Sam nodded, feeling proud. “It took me twenty minutes to draw. I used Annabelle’s book for ideas. You can look at the book, if you’re very, very careful.”

  Gavin took the book from Sam. “ ‘Kings + Queens of the Dragon World in Alphabetical Order,’ ” he read out loud. “Wow, that’s a good title. I didn’t know dragons even had kings and queens.”

  “Yeah, you can learn a lot reading that book,” Sam said. “It’s got a bunch of interesting facts in it.”

  “You should ask Mr. Pell to read it to the class after lunch,” Gavin said.

  Sam thought that was a good idea. After Mr. Pell read Annabelle’s book, Sam could show everyone his picture of the dragon monster minivan.

  “So what was the secret again?” Gavin asked.

  “That my parents are probably going to let me paint our new van,” Sam said. “It’s a secret because once everyone finds out, they’ll start bugging their parents to paint their minivans, and then their parents will call my parents to complain. . . .”

  “And your parents might change their minds if everyone is bugging them about it,” Gavin said. “I totally get that.”

  “I guess another secret is that I didn’t exactly ask to bring Annabelle’s book to school.” Sam’s stomach hurt a little bit thinking about this. He knew that Annabelle expected him to be very careful with her book.

  “Do you think she’d be mad if she knew?” Gavin asked.

  “She made me check it out of her room.”

  “Like her room was a library?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah. I have to turn it back in by eight tonight.”

  Gavin handed the book back to Sam. He looked like he thought Annabelle needed to chill out. “You better be careful with it, I guess.”

  “That’s the plan,” said Sam. He put Annabelle’s book back in its folder, and then he put the folder back in his backpack. He had to push a little to get it to fit between his math book and his spelling book. He tried not to push too hard though, because he didn’t want any of the pages to—

  Riiiip.

  “What was that?” Gavin asked. “Did someone just fart?”

  Sam squinched his eyes closed. He pulled the folder back out of his backpack.

  “That doesn’t look too good, Sam,” Gavin said. “It looks like you just put Annabelle’s book in the garbage disposal.”

  Sam opened his eyes. The cover of the folder was scrunched. The cover of the book was pinched, like someone had tried to fold it into a fan. He could see that the first few pages of the book were torn.

  “That looks really bad,” Sam said. “Really, really bad.”

  “But just on the outside,” Gavin said. “Which, okay, is a really important side. Maybe more important than the inside, but maybe not.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said, feeling like he’d just swallowed a box of rocks. “That makes me feel better.”

  “I don’t think anything is going to make you feel better,” Gavin said. “Not unless you figure out how to fix it.”

  Sam stared at the torn cover. He couldn’t fix it—not with tape, not with glue, not with staples. It was unfixable. Annabelle would never let him borrow anything of hers again.

  “Hey!” Gavin exclaimed, punching Sam in the shoulder. “I bet I know who can help us!”

  Sam felt better when Gavin said the word “us.” It made him feel like he wasn’t alone. “Who can help?” he asked.

  “Miss Fran will come to our rescue,” Gavin said with a big grin.

  Miss Fran was their art teacher. At the beginning of the school year she had purple hair. Now it was blue. She didn’t look like the sort of grown-up who could help you with a problem, but Miss Fran was smart. Whenever they had an assembly in the gym, someone always went to get Miss Fran to run the A / V equipment. She also fixed the toilet in the girls’ bathroom once.

  The Miss Fran Will Help Us Fix the Book plan. Sam liked it.

  He just hoped it would work.

  Just a Dab Will Do Ya

  When it was time for recess, Sam and Gavin went to the art room. Miss Fran was always in the art room, no matter what time of day it was. A lot of people said she lived there, like the art room was her apartment. If that was true, Sam wondered if her husband lived there too.

  “Sam! Gavin!” Miss Fran called when she saw them. She was sitting at the long table in the back of the room, cutting something out with her very
sharp scissors that nobody else was allowed to touch. “Not even the principal can use these scissors!” Miss Fran always said, which made everybody happy. Miss Fran’s students liked the idea that the principal had to follow the same rules they did.

  “What are you doing?” Gavin asked. “Are you making snowflakes? Because I’m really good at cutting out snowflakes.”

  “I’m making silhouettes for my classroom windows,” Miss Fran explained. “Right now I’m working on a swing set and some monkey bars. When I’m done I’ll have an entire playground.”

  She held up a piece of black paper with a lot of pieces cut out. When Sam looked closer he could see a swing going up in the air. “That looks real!” he said. “I mean it would look real if swings were made out of black construction paper.”

  “Thanks, Sam!” Miss Fran said. “I’m glad you like it. Now, are you guys here to work on your art projects?”

  “We’re here because we’re in trouble,” Gavin told her. He lowered his voice. “Big trouble.”

  “Did you rob a bank?” Miss Fran asked.

  “Worse,” said Sam, taking Annabelle’s torn book out of its scrunched folder. “I wrecked Annabelle’s book.”

  “Annabelle’s his sister,” Gavin explained. “She’s in sixth grade. She’s not mean or anything, but this is going to make her mad.”

  Miss Fran took the book from Sam and nodded. “It’s a cool book. Your sister is a good artist. What did you do, Sam, try to stuff it in your backpack?”

  Sam nodded glumly. “I pushed too hard.”

  “It happens,” Miss Fran said. “The bad news is, we can’t make it look like nothing ever happened to it.”

  Sam stared at the floor. Just like he thought—the book was ruined.

  “But we can do some repairs,” Miss Fran said. “We can make it look almost as good as new.”

  “Maybe Annabelle won’t even notice!” Gavin said. “That would be so awesome!”

  Miss Fran looked at Sam. “I think you ought to tell her, don’t you, Sam?”