Happenstance

eighteen

    “I felt like an artist!” she says taking a bite of her sandwich and then handing me the picture with Coni.

It’s so colourful and Maca looks so happy, she even looks younger and I can’t help smiling at the sight. I pay more attention to what they did with the water balloons and I nod in approval. It’s lovely.

“I feel the same way when I go, even if I can’t draw,” I comment and she laughs.

“Neither can I! Moni always laughs at my drawings… attempts of drawings,” she corrects herself and I laugh out loud.

“Archie does the same! I tried to draw a cat when we went to talk to Coni and he thought it was a werewolf!” I scuff offended and she laughs. She chokes so she puts the sandwich away and then takes a large sip of soda. “You okay?” I ask, leaning a bit closer.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not safe to laugh and eat at the same time,” she smiles at me and I relax. “One day I’ll show you the horse I tried to draw once in class. Moni cried laughing at it and laughs every time she thinks of it.”

“I won’t laugh, I’ll appreciate your art. We’re just misunderstood artists,” I offer and she smiles brightly.

“When we die people will pay millions for your cat and my horse!” We both laugh this time. “Seriously talking, though, I like the way you see that street, which is amazing! I never thought such place existed. I’ve lived all my life here and never once saw one of the places or things you showed me.”

“I’m glad. And I could show you other places, too. For a moment I thought of giving you my full name, but then I thought it would be too long.”

“We can go together the places for your middle name,” she offers and my heart does a backflip in excitement. “But really, when I saw what happened with all the things in that street I felt sad and I also saw it as a representation of life, just that I see life in a more negative light, I think. I saw it as ephemeral and how everything ends, how nothing lasts.” I feel sad when I hear her saying that and even her smile trembles a bit. “But I like more your interpretation and if you think about it, the art is not really gone, it’s just that there’s so much and too little space.”

“We change but who we were before never disappears, right? It’s the same.”

“Exactly. And everyone paints on us, that’s so true. You’ve brought so much colour to my life, H. And you didn’t just pain something, it’s like you threw a whole rainbow at me!” She chuckles and I just bite my lower lip, delighting in how cute she looks when she does that. “From your post-its, you’ve painted such beautiful things on me.”

“So have you,” I tell her and she laughs humourlessly.

“Yeah right,” she says sarcastically. “I probably just threw grey paint on you.” She looks down, running her finger around the edge of the can.

“Not at all!” I hurry to say and she looks up, meeting my eyes with a surprised look. “You’ve are colourful in your own way, Maca. You’re sweet and so grateful and you make me want to try harder. And no one is just bright colours, we all have shadows and lights and we add a bit of everything, don’t we?”

“I… I guess so,” she replies and I kneel in front of her, taking her hands in mine.

“You might have more dark colours than me, but don’t you think that’s good? Too bright is also hurtful.” I smile at her tentatively and she looks at me unsure before returning the smile, which makes mine wider. Then I bring her knuckles to my lips and leave a kiss on them.

“You always know what to say, don’t you? What’s your secret?” she interrogates me, her eyes narrowed in a suspicious look.

I look everywhere as if I were making sure no one is listening before I lean closer and whisper, “I put cream and sugar in my tea.”