by Gilbert Ford
The blank canvas is the hardest for the artist to harness.
But false starts and mess-ups are part of the process.
Go over this subject with one last detail:
I was his student that failed when I fell.
Tell Mrs. Fisher I miss her, and she’ll get the picture.
Maria studied the paper. “Who was your teacher, Edward? So, you do know Mrs. Fisher! Is that how you knew she had gingersnaps?” Maria fumbled for the pen and waited in her usual position for Edward to guide her. But the air was no longer cool.
Maria glanced at the lump in her mattress. She should tell Sebastian about the clue. Although she’d fantasized about contacting her friend on the walkie-talkie, she worried that her mother would discover it. She would have to be quiet if she wanted to talk to Sebastian without arousing suspicion.
Maria pushed her hand under her mattress and brought out her walkie-talkie. She pressed the button and whispered, “Sebastian! Do you read me?”
Maria threw the walkie-talkie on her bed and stared at it.
A few seconds later, Sebastian responded. “I’m here, over.” Maria grabbed the toy and turned the volume down so that it was barely audible.
“I got another clue,” she whispered. “We are really close!”
“Can you read it to me?”
Maria read the first line of the poem, and Sebastian repeated it. “The bank cactus is the hardest or the farthest?”
“No,” Maria said. “Let me read it again. The blank canvas—”
“The bank and us— Why are you whispering?”
“No!” Maria said. “Listen. The blank—”
“Why don’t you just bring it up to me?” said Sebastian.
Maria debated whether it would be easier to sneak out and hand over the clue to Sebastian, or if she should continue trying to whisper the note over walkie-talkie. If she could sneak out without her mother knowing, then yes, she could see Sebastian. But if her mother was still home, there was not a chance that she would even attempt to see her friend. Maria knew she was on dangerously thin ice with her mom and Mr. Fox.
Maria wanted to see Sebastian. She wanted to hand him the note and see his gap-toothed grin, even if it was only for a second. Maybe through this small gesture of passing a note, the ice would crack, and she would be in more trouble than she had ever known before. But Maria couldn’t hide in her closet for the rest of her life and hope that life would find her.
“I’ll see if I can make a getaway,” said Maria. “Over and out.” She turned off her walkie-talkie so that it wouldn’t make a noise while she was away, and stuffed it back under her mattress.
* * *
Maria tiptoed carefully over the old floorboards in her mother’s bedroom.
CREEEEEEAK.
She stopped, hoping that the noise hadn’t been heard.
“Is that you, Maria?” Madame Destine called from the kitchen.
Maria’s hopes hit the floor. She wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. “Yes! I was just looking for you!” she said, trying not to sound disappointed.
“We’re in here.”
Maria dragged her feet into the kitchen to find Madame Destine and Mr. Fox with their noses buried in the newspaper like two lions crouched in high grass.
“This one!” said Mr. Fox, swiping up a pen and circling a listing in red. “White van, fair condition. Twenty thousand miles. Asking price four thousand dollars.” He jerked his head up and waited for Madame Destine’s approval.
“Maybe,” she said, and nodded. “Just maybe.”
Houdini turned his beak and glanced at Maria.
“Why are you looking for vans?” asked Maria.
“Ahhh,” said Madame Destine, pulling her head away from the paper. “There’s my little Miss Motormouth. Good question! Sit down!”
Maria dropped to her chair at the table and gripped her knees.
“We’re running dangerously low on cash. Fox and I are looking for a van. More specifically, a getaway van.”
“GETAWAY VAN,” echoed Houdini.
Mr. Fox took out his cell phone. “Should I dial the number?”
Houdini, perching on Madame Destine’s shoulder, rustled his feathers while she nodded. Then she rose from the table and began pacing the kitchen. “We have just enough money left to buy our ticket outta town.”
“Oh,” replied Maria. She tried to give off the appearance of indifference, but inside she was screaming. They were really going to leave.
“But absolutely nothing remains for living expenses while we relocate,” continued Madame Destine, her words sounding calculating and cold.
“Oh, I see,” said Maria. She tried to picture them in another town, having to start over at a new library and make up new lies to tell people. It would always be this way, no matter where they lived. She’d always be hiding. It was pointless starting over now. “Then maybe we should just stay where we are,” she mumbled.
“Not a chance,” said Madame Destine, like a harsh slap. She crept around the table and stood behind Maria’s chair. Then she ran her fingers through Maria’s hair, as if to comb it. “I know we’ve had our ups and downs lately, Maria…”
Maria thought, YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN, but tried to give the impression that she was unaware of there being a problem. Her mother’s nails felt good against her scalp. They were gentle and soothing.
“But I have just a teensy-weensy favor to ask you,” continued Madame Destine.
A catch! Of course there was a catch. What could her mother possibly want from her, and did she really have any choice in the matter? Maria’s scalp tingled, making it difficult to think clearly. She mustered a shrug. “What?”
“We’ll need to make one more con before we skip town,” said Madame Destine. Her heavy hands dropped suddenly to Maria’s shoulders. “I was wondering if I could count on my girl to be so kind as to assist me.” Madame Destine’s cold fingers wrapped around Maria’s neck. “Without messing it up,” she added, pressing her fingernails into Maria’s skin. “And without telling a single person!” Maria could feel the blood draining from her ears, and she began to tremble. Finally, her mother released her grip. “I would be so grateful!”
Maria gasped. Beads of sweat rolled off her forehead, and a chilling fear swept over her. “Wha-what do I have to do?”
“Just do what I tell you when the time comes,” Madame Destine said, and returned to her chair at the table.
“It’s ringing,” said Mr. Fox. “Everyone shut up.” After a few moments, Mr. Fox said, “Yes, I’m interested in taking a look at your van. When would you be available?”
Maria tried to breathe slowly. They were going to leave, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Why, er, yes. I guess I’m available today. Is someone else interested? Got it. I’ll swing by with the missus within the hour. Yes, we’ll be paying in cash … What’s the addy?” Mr. Fox grabbed a sheet of Maria’s copy paper and her pen from the fruit bowl. Then he scribbled down the address. “Very good. We’re on our way.” Mr. Fox dropped the phone on the table before shifting his eyes to Madame Destine. “We gotta go. Now. Someone else is interested and is looking first thing tomorrow.”
“Now?” asked Madame Destine, examining her outfit. She pushed open the door to her bedroom and said, “Okay, let me get ready.” Madame Destine rushed into her room and saw her reflection in her vanity mirror. She adjusted her turban, pushing a thin strand of hair back under.
Maria watched from the kitchen, trying to suppress her smile. She would have the place to herself!
“No time,” said Mr. Fox, swiping his wallet and phone from the kitchen table. “We gotta boogie to Harlem. It’s an hour by train. Let’s go!”
Madame Destine swiped a tube of lipstick from her drawer and applied it slowly. Her eyes met Maria’s in the mirror, and she cleared her throat. “I’m gonna TRUST you to stay outta trouble while I’m gone. Do you hear me?”
Maria nodded, but secretly, she couldn’t
believe her luck! “I won’t step away from this building,” she said, and she meant it. She would just be upstairs with Sebastian.
Maria followed them to the front parlor where Madame Destine placed Houdini in his cage. She bent her face to the bars and baby talked, “Mommy will be back shortly, my precious.” She kissed Houdini’s feathered forehead through the cage before shutting the door.
Madame Destine and Mr. Fox rushed to the door. But just as they walked out, Madame Destine turned and raised a brow. “And I mean it. Don’t disobey me,” she said, her eyes probing Maria.
“Of course not,” Maria said.
Madame Destine and Mr. Fox slammed the door behind them.
Maria froze in the hallway and counted to fifty. Then she took a deep breath and smiled. She’d just won bingo. Her prize? Freedom to see Sebastian.
She cracked the front door and escaped into the night as light as an autumn breeze.
17
A Home-Cooked Meal
Maria had to climb the stairs above her garden apartment to get to Sebastian’s. Even though they technically lived in the same building and there was originally a way to get into his apartment through her kitchen, the entrance had long been sealed off. Maria rang Sebastian’s buzzer.
She felt a mix of fear and excitement standing on his doorstep. She never imagined that she’d be bold enough to visit a neighbor—and just a few feet from her own home. She scanned the street behind her just in case Mr. Fox and her mother had decided to return, but the street was empty. Maria shivered. She was suddenly overcome with fear of meeting Sebastian’s family. She almost turned away but—
Footsteps hit the stairs inside Sebastian’s apartment and the shadow of a head darted across the curtains in the window. Then the handle jiggled before the door swung open.
“Hi there,” said a slim woman with brown skin and a head full of puffy hair. She was beautiful.
“Are you here to see Sebastian?” the woman asked, and ushered Maria in. “I’m Sebastian’s mom, Mrs. Goldstein, but you can call me Shanya.”
“I’m Maria,” Maria mumbled. “I live downstairs.” She met Mrs. Goldstein’s eyes and quickly looked away.
“Of course!” replied Sebastian’s mother. She gave a warm smile to Maria.
Sebastian stood at the top of the stairs holding his walkie-talkie. “Come on up!” he called to Maria.
“I’m just cooking lasagna,” said Mrs. Goldstein. “Will you be staying for dinner?”
Maria didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t thought about how long she could stay while her mother was away. And what was the thing Sebastian’s mom said she was cooking?
“Yes, Mom, she’s staying for dinner,” Sebastian shouted above them. Then he motioned to Maria. “Come up. We have work to do!”
Like a racer that has just heard the sound of the gun, Maria shot up the long flight of stairs to meet Sebastian. When she reached the top, she breathlessly took in the bright space. She was pretty sure Sebastian’s family lived with every light on in the house. The whole place smelled clean, and the wooden floors twinkled with varnish. The walls had been freshly painted, and a family portrait hung in the hallway.
Maria took a closer look at the photo. Sebastian was standing in front of his beautiful mother. A pale man stood behind them like a sea captain. He had a rippled forehead and a turbulent wave of hair above thick-framed glasses.
“Where’s your dad?” asked Maria.
“He’s working, but he’ll be home for dinner,” Sebastian said. “Follow me.” He grabbed Maria by the hand and pulled her down the hall to his bedroom. As soon as they entered, Sebastian shut the door and whispered, “Show me the clue.”
Maria dug in her pocket and pulled out the wrinkled message and waved it at him.
“Where did you get this?” Sebastian said. He grabbed it and dropped to the edge of his bed, where he hovered over the words.
Maria gave a slight shrug before she took in Sebastian’s bedroom. His walls were painted a light blue, like a spring sky, but the ceiling was black and splattered with hundreds of glow-in-the-dark stars. A yellow-painted basketball dangled above Sebastian’s bed. It resembled the sun. Not far from it was a baseball painted red with rings of purple pipe cleaners that Maria guessed was supposed to be Saturn.
There was a bulletin board by the door filled with first place ribbons. Trophies lined the shelves of his dresser.
But more impressive was Sebastian’s window! Maria took a peek outside. The tops of the trees and high-rises poked above the brownstones. Maria couldn’t believe it. It was such a different view from her garden apartment. Sebastian had a whole window in his room, not just a vent in the closet to spy through!
“So the other poem was about poets and artists, right?” asked Sebastian. He took off his cap and massaged his head. “This must be something else to do with them.”
Maria shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know,” she said, falling onto the bed next to him. The two stared at the words for a long time. Maria could smell the aroma of baked lasagna and melted cheese. A long growl came from her stomach. “You have a nice room,” she said to cover up the noise.
“Uh … thanks.”
“Nice planets.” Maria smiled and glanced up.
Sebastian grinned. “I like science. A lot. It’s my favorite subject. Especially astronomy. Black holes, wormholes, stuff like that.”
“What are those ribbons for?” she asked, and pointed to his bulletin board.
“Oh, they’re nothing.” Sebastian leaned back on one arm. “My dad likes them. He’s kind of into me winning ribbons.”
“Are they from school?” Maria was very curious about what it would be like to attend school, surrounded by other students. She wondered if all students got ribbons or if Sebastian was special.
“I won the spelling bee three years in a row at my old school. Another ribbon is for the science fair, and another is for never missing a day of school. I didn’t get sick once while I was in third grade.” Sebastian grinned. “Notice how none of my ribbons and trophies are in sports?” Sebastian sighed. “You’ve seen me try to catch and throw a ball.”
Maria couldn’t help but smile. She was impressed. She wondered what kind of student she would be if her mother let her to go to school.
“You don’t win trophies when you’re homeschooled,” she said softly, and began to fidget with Sebastian’s bedspread. His blanket had vibrant stripes, and the fabric was soft, so unlike the thin gray blanket she slept under.
“But you’re lucky,” Sebastian said. “I wish I could stay home and read whatever I wanted! I would read up on just science if I could.”
Maria leaned back, making herself more comfortable. “It’s not exactly like that. I enjoy science, and I love reading stories, too. But I can’t read JUST what I want to all day.”
“I guess reading stories is okay,” admitted Sebastian. “Especially the true ones.”
“Like what?” she asked. She rarely read any nonfiction, except her mother’s obituaries, of course. She preferred reading fantasies by authors like Lois Lowry, Madeleine L’Engle, and Roald Dahl.
“I like reading about real people,” said Sebastian.” You know, how they lived and what they did.” Then he pointed to his ceiling. “One day I’ll explore a planet.”
Maria was surprised at how sure Sebastian sounded when he said it. It had never occurred to her to plan so far into the future, because she’d never thought much further than her mother’s next con.
“What do you want to be?” asked Sebastian. “You know, when you grow up.”
Maria pictured herself as an adult in Madame Destine’s clothes—a heavy turban and a guilty conscience weighing her down. She knew her mother cared for her, and that was why she had taught her everything she knew about conning. But was it enough? Was Maria ungrateful for desiring something more? She may not have had a window that looked out into the world, but she had a peephole illuminating her mother’s schemes, something that was needed to survive
in this world.
“I want to be rich,” said Maria, thinking about all the times her mother told her that was what she should want. But deep down, Maria knew that wasn’t really what she wanted. Sure, she had Edward and this talent for “automatic writing,” but would that make her rich? Was there some secret to a happy life that was better than gold and jewels?
Sebastian sighed. “Then you should talk to my dad. He’s always looking for ways to make more money.”
Maria held up the clue. “It says that he was a student in the message. And he knew Mrs. Fisher while he was alive. Could Mr. Fisher have been Edward’s teacher?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one who’s talked to her.”
The front door jiggled open downstairs, and a muffled, deep voice said, “Hey, Shanya! Smells like lasagna.”
“Dad’s home,” said Sebastian.
They were interrupted by a knock on Sebastian’s door. His mom poked her head through the opening.
“Dinner’s ready, you two. Wash up and come to the table.”
* * *
Maria held the fork in her hand and stabbed at the steaming lasagna on her plate. The gooey cheese and pasta had strange ingredients inside of it that Maria had never seen. Were these vegetables? She glanced at Sebastian for clues on how to eat this meal. He held his knife in his left hand as he sawed the pasta into segments while holding the operation steady with the fork in his right hand. Maria thought that she could manage this.
“Does your mother cook, Maria?” asked Mrs. Goldstein.
“She doesn’t have time,” replied Maria.
“Yeah, she’s pretty busy,” said Sebastian. “Not only is she a psychic but she also runs a nonprofit, right, Maria?”
Maria quickly stuffed a huge helping of lasagna in her mouth so that she could think up an answer, but the hot food burned, and a string of cheese rested on her chin. Her face flushed red with embarrassment.
“Let her eat, Sebastian!” said his mother. “Maria, enjoy your food!”