My Life as a Cartoonist by Janet Tashjian Read Free Book Online Page B

looks like he hasn’t spent a minute of his life indoors. He calls Matt and me over to his truck and throws us each a wetsuit.
    â€œYou guys are totally getting up today,” Heinz says. “I guarantee it.”
    Matt and I explain that we’re skateboarders who’ve never been surfing before.
    â€œSkateboarding will really help with your balance,” Heinz says. “But it’s all about the pop-up.” He explains that the most important thing is going from a paddle position to a standing position—fast. He chooses two surfboards from several in his van and tells us to meet him by the water.
    As Matt and I walk down the beach, I look around to locate Carly, but she and Crash have already paddled out.
    camaraderie
    â€œYou think we’ll really catch a ride today?” Matt asks. “That would be awesome.”
    I try not to get my hopes up; if surfing turns out to be anything like the cartoon club, I’ll end up tangled up in my leash, spit up on the shore with a face full of sand.
    undermined
    When my parents asked me last night how the club went, I told them it was amazing, that the other kids got a lot out of it too. I may have gone a bit over the top, animatedly describing the club’s camaraderie. Dad seemed proud that the information he’d shared had been useful; I didn’t want to spoil his good feelings by admitting Umberto had undermined my comics as well as my authority.
    authority
    The truth is I couldn’t just blame Umberto; I LET my authority as the club’s leader be undermined. I could’ve guided the club back on track after Umberto tried to take over but I didn’t, choosing the easier path of surrender. And that was the part that hurt more than Umberto staking claim to my comic book ideas.
    Thankfully, I can’t spend the morning dwelling on past mistakes because Heinz has us in the sand practicing pop-ups. Going from lying down to standing as fast as you can isn’t a skateboard skill. But after twenty minutes of practicing, Matt and I seem to get the hang of it. When I look out on the horizon to find Carly in the water, she and Crash are sitting on their boards talking, framed by the morning sun.
    â€œToday’s a good day to learn,” Heinz says. “Not a lot of wind and nice, easy waves.” He motions for us to grab our boards and follow him out.
    When Carly sees us, she yells some much needed encouragement.
    â€œI knew those two would hit it off.” Heinz gestures to Carly and Crash. “They’re like two peas in a pod.”
    perspective
    Matt shoots me a “what is he talking about?” look. I could tell him I’ve got a different perspective on Crash but I don’t, letting Matt continue our game of Trash Crash. “Crash and Carly made for each other—as if!” he says.
    â€œYeah, what do we know? We’re only her best friends,” I add.
    The water’s cold at first. Heinz walks alongside us as Matt and I paddle out. With new sets of waves coming at faster intervals, getting outside-the-break is more difficult than it looks. It’s hard to imagine Carly’s gotten so good so fast; she breezes by us effortlessly.
    â€œOkay,” Heinz says. He’s standing chest-deep in the water between us. “It takes a while to learn how to read the waves. So for now you’ll have to trust me on which waves are the best ones for you to catch.”
    chugging
    I’m not sure how advisable it is to put your faith in a guy who got his nickname chugging a bottle of ketchup, but that’s what Matt and I do.
    â€œNot this one,” Heinz says when Matt impatiently starts to go. He brings Matt’s board parallel to mine. “Sometimes the most important skill to have out here is patience.”
    After a few minutes, Heinz turns to me. “This next one—go!” And before I can ask a single question, he pushes my board, with me on it, toward the