The Earth Painter

by Melissa Turner Lee

  Khai-Ree got up to follow me, but I stopped him. “I’m going to get dressed too. Wait here.”

  I came back out in jeans and a t-shirt. Khai-Ree sat while I washed, dried and put away my dishes. I spent the time trying to think of a conversation I could have with him. Finally, it came to me as I finished. I sat down at the table and asked, “Tell me about the painting you lost?”

  Suddenly, this man with the constant look of irritation hung his head. “Why am I always tortured with this?” It sounded like he was about to cry.

  “I’m sorry. I was just asking.” I felt terrible for causing him distress but at the same time found it hard to take a man painted like a flower seriously.

  Khai-Ree raised his eyes to meet mine. “I am Khai-Ree-Hloa-Theo. I am assistant painter to Theo. I keep up with his work. I assist him as he has need of me. I organize the chaos as he concentrates on his creations. For a Khai-Ree to lose something…anything. That would be like a painter finding something he can’t paint.”

  “How did you lose it?”

  “I don’t know. We went to an island in spring, after the big card game in Italy. Theo suddenly felt inspired to paint. I thought it was just the normal inspiration. I didn’t know it was divine. It had been millennia. I fetched his canvas, easel, paints and brushes. I was filing some other work when he notified me that he was finished. It was odd because he’d covered it with a white sheet. I never looked under it. I took it back to our home and placed it in my stack to be filed. Then later he asked if I had presented it. I realized my error and went to get it, but it was gone.”

  Khai-Ree looked down at his green body. “Theo’s been painting me as punishment ever since. He says he will stop the day I find his missing painting.”

  Suddenly Khai-Ree stood. “I can leave now. My painter is here.”

  I looked around. “Where?”

  “In your room.”

  My door was closed. “How can you tell?”

  “A Khai-Ree can sense his painter.” Then, he turned and walked through a door I couldn’t see and disappeared.

  I opened my door and Theo was up on a ladder, taking my pink window treatment down.

  “What are you doing?”

  Theo turned and smiled. Gray-blue eyes and dimples. Gosh why couldn’t he be human?

  “We’re painting your room today,” he said and pointed to several cans of paints.

  I looked around my room. I did hate pink. But Mom loved it. This would be more than flipping my comforter and hiding my pillows. “I don’t think my mom would approve.”

  Theo jumped down with the curtains still attached to the rod in his hand. “Why not? It’s your room. Shouldn’t she decorate it with your likes in mind?”

  “You’d think so, but that’s not how it works around here. Everything is done to Mom’s liking.”

  Theo grabbed a bucket of paint. “Well that would be fine if she was the only one who lived here.” He took a brush and dabbed it into the paint.

  I looked around. “Don’t you need tape and drop cloths or something? Mom never starts painting until everything is prepped. She will kill me if you drip paint everywhere.”

  He turned and smiled at me. “I don’t drip...EVER.”

  I liked the idea, but painting my room would be a declaration of war with my mom, and I wasn’t ready for that—not yet. “Stop.”

  Theo turned back to look at me again. His brow furrowed over his curious eyes.

  “I have to live here with her for at least a few more months. Maybe longer if I don’t live on campus. If we do this, it will be hell on earth for me after. And no matter what a phenomenal job you do, she will come redo it to suit her. Believe me, I know.”

  Theo put the brush down and walked to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. He looked straight into my eyes. His eyes were piercing, like he could see all of me and regarded each and every layer as important.

  “But I want to make a place for you. A beautiful place—a place to go to when the world outside gets too hard and too real and too mean. A room made just for you. Not a room your mom loves, but you have to put up with.”

  I stared into his beautiful eyes. There was such care in them. No one ever looked at me like Theo did. I was just about to agree, to forget about my mom and the war that would soon follow if I gave in, when my cell phone rang. I shook myself out of the trance I was in and went and answered my phone. It was Shelby.

  “Holly, my boss wants you to start today. I’ll come pick you up on my way in. I have to be there by ten to prep for lunch.”

  I looked at Theo. It would be nice to stay with him and stage a coup in my bedroom, but I honestly did need a job. I wanted to buy a car before college started in the fall.

  “Yeah, sure. That would be great. What should I wear?”

  “They’ll give you a Bantam Chef t-shirt when you get there. Either jeans or khakis and comfortable tennis shoes. And pull your hair back or they’ll make you wear a hair net, and that is so not sexy.”

  “Jeans, shoes, ponytail and no shirt. Got it.”

  “Wear a shirt, dipstick. You know what I meant. It ain’t no topless bar. It’s a family establishment”

  “Good, glad you set me straight,” I laughed.

  I got off the phone and noticed my room was cleaned up, and my curtains were back on the wall. Theo was sitting on my bed. He looked so disappointed.

  “I’ve got to go with Shelby in a few. She got me a job.” I went and sat beside him. “I truly appreciate what you want to do for me. It means the world that you care about what would make me happy, even such a small thing as painting my room to my taste. I’m just not ready to make my mom that mad at me yet.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes before he asked, “Do you want me to go with you to look out for Fritz?”

  “No, I should be too busy to think about anything. If I notice I’m getting super down on myself for no reason, I’ll look around for him.”

  Theo was just about to leave when I remembered, “You know how you hate it that my room isn’t painted to suit me?”

  He nodded.

  “When you paint Khai-Ree next, could you take his tastes into consideration?”

  He seemed to think about it and then nodded before he disappeared.

  I spent my day learning burger shorthand and listening to Buddy Holly. Elvis and Marilyn hung on all the walls while pink neon glowed overhead.

  The day went by quickly. Shelby finally let me take an order while she watched. I didn’t recognize the African-American woman in front of me at first, because she looked so different from the last time I’d seen her. Her hair stuck up all over decorated in colorful rubber bands. She wore a tie dyed t-shirt with just as many colors and Birkenstocks.

  “You’re Holly Scruggs, right? The young lady I spoke with at the school board meeting.”

  I looked back at her, trying to figure out how she knew me. Then I saw it—the resemblance. “You’re Anthony’s mom.”

  She smiled back. “That I am… and Honor and Courage’s mom.” She pointed to twin girls who looked to be about four years old. “I’m here for our weekly junk food run. They put up with the ‘cardboard’ they swear I feed them the rest of the week without complaining and they get pure garbage for one meal as a reward.” She grimaced and then smiled apologetically at the owner who was walking by. “No offense, Mr. Walker.”

  I took her large to-go order, and she gave me her business card so I could get in touch with her to prepare for the next board meeting. According to it, she was also an attorney.

  It wasn’t until I got home and walked in that I realize I’d forgotten to text my parents about where I was. Mom jumped up from the table and charged at me.

  “Where have you been young lady? We’ve called and texted you all afternoon.”

  I pulled my phone from my purse and saw all the missed calls and texts. “I’m sorry. I left my phone in my locker at work.

  It was then mom noticed my t-shirt. “Oh, no!” She walked away
and circled the kitchen, waving her hands overhead. “No daughter of mine is flipping burgers. Not here in Chesnee where everyone knows me. No…No…No. Not happening. Sorry.” She ended by standing by Dad and folding her arms.

  That was it. “Mom, people in Chesnee are not sitting in their houses right now thinking about you. They don’t care that we set a full table just for cereal in the morning. They are not impressed that we sit up straight, hide the truth about any flaw we might have and pretend like our poop doesn’t stink. And they don’t care if your one and only daughter sells them their burger. They have their own lives to think about. You are not Queen of the World. You’re not even the reigning Miss Chesnee. You’re a middle-aged house wife who couldn’t hack it in the real world. Get over yourself. Everyone else has.”

  I stormed to my room and slammed the door behind me. Khai-Ree was sitting at my desk. I almost didn’t recognize him all olive skinned and in a clean, white suit. I should have complimented him, but I was too mad.

  “Khai-Ree, go get Theo. I’m ready to paint my room.”

  Chapter 16

  I showered and put on my pajamas while Khai-Ree went for Theo. Mom ignored me when I brushed past her in the kitchen and got a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I was heading towards my room when Mom spoke to my dad, who was watching TV in the living room.

  “Tell your daughter no eating and drinking outside of the kitchen.”

  Before Dad could speak I replied, “Real mature Mom. It’s water. It doesn’t stain or make things sticky. I’m an adult. I don’t need sippy cups anymore.”

  “Tell your daughter…”

  I slammed my door before I could hear the rest. Theo was stretched across my bed twirling my throw pillow by the tassel. “So what’s changed since this morning?”

  “The war started without me even firing a shot.”

  Theo’s brows furrowed in confusion.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I walked over to the cans of paints and picked up a brush, dabbed it in the paint and marched to the pink wall. “I don’t want to think about it. I just want to paint my room.” Anger permeated my every cell. This wasn’t much, but it was the only way I knew to get back at my mom and to do something for me. I was determined to retaliate with my paint and brush, but when I got to the wall I froze, unable to touch the brush to it.

  Theo walked up beside me. “Well… go ahead.”

  I looked into those eyes, my own pleading. The gnawing in my gut was back. “I’m scared. I don’t know what you have in mind, and I might mess it all up.”

  He smiled. “Impossible. If nothing else, I can paint over it.” He moved behind me and put his arm around my waist. He took hold of my wrist and pressed the brush against the wall. “Just paint. I find it immensely cathartic,” he whispered in my ear.

  My eyes fluttered. I tried to concentrate as the brush glided across the wall leaving streaks of blue. Theo’s breath against my ear tickled when he spoke, causing goose bumps to pop up on my left side just as before. It wasn’t like goose bumps from being cold. This made my breath quicken. Goose bumps from a cold breeze made you want to move away from the source, but this feeling made me want to move closer.

  Theo let go of me and opened a can of white paint and a shade of green and quickly returned to take my hand. Swirls of green, blue and white covered the wall in front of me. As we painted I felt water lapping against my feet. Salt spray burned my eyes and nostrils. The roar of giant waves crashing against the shore echoed in my ears. I pulled out of Theo’s embrace and bent over, disoriented just as I had been the time before. “What was that?” My head swirled and panged trying to make sense of what was happening.

  Theo put down the paints and rushed to me. “What’s wrong?” I looked up at him, still panting and trying to catch my breath. The fact that the room wasn’t air conditioned didn’t help. Sweat beaded on my face.

  “Why was I suddenly at the beach? I could feel it—the water and the smell of the salt.” He pulled me to my chair and I took a seat. Theo knelt in front of me, his face inches from mine. “The sound of the waves was deafening.” I looked back at the wall. The basic shape of waves was there, but nothing like I’d experienced.

  Theo’s eyes widened. “You saw the ocean? A real ocean while we painted?” The excitement made his eyes sparkle. “Has anything like that ever happened when you’ve painted before?”

  “Yes! That time we painted the backdrop. I could see animals hopping about and birds. I could smell the pine.”

  Theo pulled me from my chair and led me back to the wall. “Paint.”

  I did as instructed. I tried to follow the patterns that were already started. They didn’t look the same though, and I didn’t see or hear or smell anything. Then, Theo opened some pastel paints. He pulled me to another wall and took my hand again.

  He held me close as we painted, connecting rectangles of different colors. It felt nice being tucked into his arms. I didn’t know what the rectangles meant until suddenly I was in Charleston, on rainbow row—a street where colorful houses all close together kept watch over the river. The giant, colorful homes loomed over me. I could smell the magnolia and hear the river behind me. My sweat even felt different. It was the constant humidity of the low country of South Carolina. Again, I pulled away from Theo. I turned and looked at him. “Charleston! You’re giving me Charleston.”

  He smiled and ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair. As if the eyes were not enough, the dimples had to show up too. “You could see that? Already?” He seemed to think for a minute as he looked at the walls and then at me. “You miss your home. I can hear it when you talked about Charleston that first day in class. I thought this would make you feel more at home here.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I threw my arms around him and held him so tight it might have hurt him if that were possible. Tears streamed down my face. “You know me so well. No one knows me like this.” I pulled back to look into his gray-blue eyes. The color of the ocean during a storm—when sky and sea become one, and it’s impossible to distinguish the two. I used to drive to the beach during storms back in Charleston just to see that color. Now the gray-blue was here watching me.

  I turned back to the wall to look at the beginning of basic shapes painted on the wall. The shapes hardly looked like houses yet. “How did I see it and smell it and taste it when all that’s here is this?”

  Theo shook his head, but he still smiled. “I don’t know. But it sounds like what I see when I paint. How does it feel when you do it?”

  My face beamed. “Exhilarating!”

  “Isn’t it? But that’s nothing compared to divine inspiration.” The he stopped and looked at me like he’d just had an idea. “My creativity must be flowing through you as we paint. That’s what happens to me when I get divine inspiration. I’d compare it to possession or being drunk. Only I can’t smell it or taste it when it happens.” He looked at me. “Let’s try this again, and you tell me what you’re seeing and smelling at any given moment.”

  I tried to explain the clean smell of the ocean and the taste that gets in your mouth even if you don’t go into the water. And tried to describe the buttery sweet smell of pralines being made at the sweet shop down by the old market—the way they lure you in to buy them when you weren’t planning on it. I could almost feel the jostle of riding over cobblestone streets under canopies of Spanish moss, hanging like gray witches hair from the trees.

  We painted into the night until I was so tired Theo was literally holding me up. At that point, he led me to my bed and tucked me in to watch from my pillow while he finished. I resisted sleep at first, but finally relented when I couldn’t hold my eyes open. I willed my eyes open to watch until I was closing one eye at a time, using one and resting the other. I liked being in his arms—the way they made me feel. Not just the sensation of painting, though that was awesome, but the safety that came with them and the comfort of him holding me when I didn’t have the strength to stand any longer.

&nbs
p; I drifted off peacefully, my mind far from the fight with my mom. I was with Theo in my dreams, painting all sorts of beauty, and it was good.

  When I woke up I was in Charleston. Theo was gone, and Khai-Ree was sitting in my chair.

  “Where’s Theo?” I sprang from my bed and ran to the wall to rub my fingers over it.

  “He’s at home getting ready for a card game. Walden’s coming and bringing Physics and Astronomy with her. They were coming to consult with Chem anyway, so their joining the game. The current table and room will not suffice such a number of sciences, an extra painter and her Khai-Ree. Theo is painting a new venue.”

  “And you can’t make up a new design on your own.”

  The man rolled his eyes in apparent disgust. “I am a Khai-Ree. I see what is…only. Not what could be… the world of make believe.”

  We remained silent. It wasn’t awkward because I was busy looking at everything. Theo had even propped my throw pillows against the wall with matching flowers he’d painted in front of a house. It gave it a 3D effect. My window topper was now hung under my window. It had been made part of a house to look like a window box of flowers.

  “This is amazing. I love it.” I ran my fingers over the painting of the market. The ancient bricks looked so real, I half expected to feel them. The sweet grass baskets lined the doorway of the market, woven by an African-American woman who’d learned the craft from her mother, who’d learned it from her mother going all the way back to some poor woman who’d survived a trip comparable only to hell itself.

  I loved watching the women weave while they manned their booths. But there were no women, or shoppers or any people. I looked at Khai-Ree. “Do you think he’ll add people later? I’ve never seen Charleston so abandoned.”

  No, Theo doesn’t paint people” He shook his head, “out of respect for the Sculptor.” He looked at the room and back at me. “I’m glad Theo has something to paint besides me.” Khai-Ree stood and flattened out his white suit. “Thank…um…thank… you for….” He looked around the room trying to avoid eye contact. “…talking to Theo.”