The Crayon Coast

The ferry leaves the harbor with a low horn. Elan stands at the rail on the top deck. Behind him, the town gets smaller.

The crossing takes twenty-five minutes. Elan wants to enjoy every minute. He is fifteen. It is his first trip to the island.

Samir comes up the stairs with two paper cups of juice. He is also fifteen, and he is the reason for the trip.

"Here," Samir says. He gives Elan a cup. "Did you bring the map?"

"Of course." Elan opens his jacket and takes out a folded sheet of paper. "It is not wet."

The map is not a normal one. Samir's little cousin drew it with crayons. She lives on the island. She wants the boys to visit her favorite place. Her drawing shows a blue sea and a green hill. It shows a yellow house too. A very tall tree stands by it, with a bird on top.

At the bottom, there is a thick black line. Next to it she wrote, in large letters, COME HERE.

"It is a great map," Samir says. "But I have a question. Where is the black line?"

"A road?"

"Maybe a dock."

Elan looks closer. The line could be a road, a dock, or a snake. The little girl is a better artist than a mapmaker.

"The ferry stops at two docks," Elan says. He reads the sign on the wall. "North Landing and South Landing. We must choose the right one."

"What does the ticket say?"

"It says both. We choose when we get off." Elan checks his watch. "We have about fifteen minutes before the first stop."

They sit on a bench and spread the map on their knees. Samir turns it one way, then the other. A seagull lands on the rail and watches them.

"Look," Samir says. "The sea is on the left. The hill is on the right. So we must come from the bottom of the paper."

"Then the black line is where we start. That means it is a dock. But which one?"

"I don't know." Samir rubs his neck. "Her letter says she can see the ferry from her house. She has no phone, so we cannot ask her."

Elan thinks. Some things in a child's drawing are easy to find. He taps the picture of the tree.

"This is the clue," he says. "A tall tree with a bird. We can look for it from the water."

Samir stands up. "The deck is too crowded to see the island. Everybody is in front of us."

It is true. A family stands at the front rail. Three men in work clothes lean next to them. A man with a camera takes pictures of everything.

"Then we need a better view," Elan says.

He looks up. Behind the bench, a metal ladder goes up to a small platform. A sign says STAFF ONLY. The platform has a bright orange ring, and nothing else.

Samir shakes his head. "No."

"We only look," Elan says. "Two minutes."

"We will be in trouble."

"Then we ask first." Elan walks to a worker. She wears a blue jacket and holds a rope. "Excuse me. May we stand on the high platform for two minutes? We want to find a tree on the island."

The woman looks at him. She looks at the paper in his hand. "Is that a map?"

"A child drew it. We must find the right dock."

The woman reads the page. A small smile appears. "Good drawing. I know that tree. It is the old pine on the hill. The bird is a statue." She points at the island. "The yellow house is near it, by the little fishing pier."

"So the tree and the house are close together?" Samir asks.

"Yes. Your friend with the crayons drew everything in one picture. Real life is bigger." She nods at the ladder. "Go up. Hold the rail with both hands."

"Thank you!" Elan says.

They climb. The platform is small and cold. From here, the island rises out of the sea.

Elan holds the map up. He looks from the paper to the island. He moves it left, then right.

"There," he says. He points. "The tall tree. And a house with a yellow roof. They are close together."

"Which is the dock?" Samir asks.

Elan looks for the black line. At the foot of the hill, a short pier reaches out. It is between the tree and the house. It is closer to North Landing.

"The pier is in the middle," he says. "The girl drew everything near it. She did not mean North or South. She meant the little pier between them."

Samir laughs. "So where does the ferry stop?"

Elan checks the ship's sign again. "The ferry stops at North Landing first. That is the closest to the pier. We get off there and walk five minutes."

"Great plan," Samir says.

They climb down. The woman with the rope gives them a big smile. Samir takes the map. He folds it with care along its lines.

The ferry slows. The horn sounds again, low and long. People pick up their bags and move toward the door.

Elan and Samir stay at the rail one moment longer. The island is close now. Under the pine tree, the stone bird shines in the sun.

The map lies in Samir's hand. Its crayon sea is soft and bright. The black line at the bottom is a pier now.

The gangway touches the dock with a quiet bump.