The Many Mysteries of the Finkel Family

was already scribbling a comic-style fight scene on notebook paper.
“Welcome to Experimental Art! Don’t worry—we will definitely be making art today,” the teacher said. “But first things first! I’d love for us to get to know each other better. Let’s take some time for you guys to talk with everyone else at your table.”
Caroline drew in a breath and pulled out her tablet. Okay. She could totally do this. She opened the speech app and readied her fingers for typing.
“What are we supposed to be talking about?” the boy wondered. He was still working away on his comic.
“It would help to know your name, genius,” said a red-haired girl with a tight ponytail. “I’ll start. I’m Marissa and I’m a painter. My favorite medium is acrylics and I went to art camp this summer. I won an award for best portrait.”
Caroline gulped. She knew art wasn’t a competition, exactly, but the idea of being in the same class as braggy Marissa made her nervous.
“I’m more into watercolors,” another girl said. “Oh, yeah. I’m Jenna. Hi and nice to meet you.”
Although Caroline couldn’t quite bring herself to look Jenna in the eyes, her shoulders relaxed. At least Jenna seemed nice.
“How about you?” Jenna asked the boy.
He looked up from his drawing. “Micah. I like comics, obviously.”
Marissa looked at his work and sniffed. “You’re not bad. Why don’t you do real art?”
“Comics is real art!”
“If you say so.”
Caroline sensed that this argument could go on for the rest of class if left unchecked. She decided to intervene. With a quick tap to her tablet, she said her introduction: “Hello! My name is Caroline Finkel. I am eleven years old and I like art. It is nice to meet you.”
The rest of the Blue Table stared. Marissa’s mouth hung open into a rather unbecoming O-shape. “Oh,” she said. “So that’s how you . . . talk.”
Caroline did not like the pause in Marissa’s voice. As though Caroline’s way of talking was somehow less real than anyone else’s. As though Caroline herself was less real.
She decided that Marissa’s meanness deserved only a one-word response: “Yes.”
Apparently, Marissa decided that Caroline didn’t warrant any further attention, because she turned back to the other kids and started talking about her recent trip to Paris, which she pronounced as “Par-ee” for some reason. That was more than okay with Caroline. She switched over to Candy Crush on her tablet and restarted level 457. Technically she wasn’t supposed to use her tablet for games during school, but it’s not as if they were doing anything actually important. Next to her, Micah continued his drawing. Caroline was tempted to take a peek, but resisted the urge. She never liked to show her work before it was done, so it was hardly fair to look at someone else’s.
“Now it’s time for your very first project!” the pink-haired woman announced. Caroline realized she should probably figure out her real name. “I don’t want to give you any restrictions, except for this: I would like for all of you to work in a medium that you’ve never used before. This is a chance for you to experiment and grow as artists. We are in Experimental Art, after all!”
Marissa immediately raised her hand to announce that she was familiar with all possible mediums. While she babbled on, Caroline considered her options. The idea of using a new medium excited her—but what should she choose?
Her gaze was instantly drawn to the heaps of red-brown clay sitting in plastic bags. She certainly didn’t have much experience with that. Before she could think about it too much, Caroline wandered over to the clay and grabbed a bag for herself.
She ripped the bag open and stared at the clay for a good minute or so before scooping out a nice big chunk. This clay could become so many different things, but what would be the very best?
After rolling the clay into a perfectly even ball, Caroline paused. She had no idea what to do next. Caroline was just about ready to flatten the ball into a pancake when the teacher strolled up. “Excellent choice of medium. Do you know what you’re sculpting?”
Her tablet was close enough, but Caroline didn’t want to risk messing it up with clay-coated fingers. She shook her head.
“It’s totally okay not to know right away. You want to let the clay guide you.” She handed Caroline a set of tools. “This will help.”
Even though Caroline did not have the first clue about how to let the clay guide her toward anything but a colossally ugly mess, she nodded.
She set the clay on the table and started to shape it with her bare hands. Much to her surprise, a form started to emerge. Caroline thought the clay looked a little like a horse’s head. But horses were quite boring. She needed a more interesting animal that looked kind of like a horse. Thinking back to family trips to the Woodland Park Zoo, she decided that the sculpture would be a zebra. Yes, that was good. And half an hour into class, her clay was clearly recognizable as a zebra’s head.
Bit by bit, the zebra came to life. Caroline decided she ought to have a name. Helena seemed like a good choice. Thanks to Caroline’s hands, Helena soon grew oval-shaped ears, wide nostrils, and clay eyes that watched Caroline as she worked.
“This is excellent work!” the teacher told her. “Are you sure you’ve never worked with clay before?”
Caroline shook her head. She’d worked on a potter’s wheel once or twice in elementary school, but she’d certainly never sculpted like this before.
“Well, you’re a natural sculptor. I’m super impressed.”
Caroline would be lying if she said that the praise didn’t make her want to jump up and down. Maybe she did belong here at Pinecone Arts Academy.
She continued to define Helena’s features, a silly grin firmly attached to her face. She paused only upon realizing that she really, really had to go to the bathroom. She didn’t want to abandon her