Not Far (Completed)

A Work of Art

A WORK OF ART

6 years later...

"So, Ezra, what do you think? Will you let us show everyone what a beautiful picture you drew?" Rhonda Simmers, the manager of Painted Wonder's Art Gallery, asked sweetly to Ezra who was seated across from her, slouched in a chair.

Ezra had been recognized for his beautiful artwork many times, but this was the first time anyone had ever asked to hang it up in an art gallery. Over the years, Ezra had become more and more obsessed with drawing and painting. He was surprisingly good at it for being only 7 years old.

Ezra's art teacher, Ms. Tiller, saw the picture Ezra drew in class and was amazed. She contacted Rhonda Simmers and asked if she would hang it up in her gallery for the open house that weekend. Being close friends with Ms. Tiller, Rhonda said yes. But, of course, they needed to ask the artists permission.

Ezra stared at his drawing that sat on Rhonda Simmers' desk. He studied that intense detail that went into the picture. He spent hours on it. He even went in after school to work on it. It was a drawing that he used only Crayola colored pencils for. It was a large dragon soaring through the clouds, with a young boy that looked just like him sitting on it's back.

"Ezra, honey, do you want them to hang your picture up for everyone to see your hard work?" Beverley soothingly asked Ezra as she patted his shoulder. He nodded three times.

"Yes." Beverley answered for Ezra. Rhonda smiled a crooked toothed smile and took out a small square of paper.

"So, I'm going to need a name for your drawing." Rhonda clicked open a pen that was sitting in her front shirt pocket.

"I can write it." Ezra finally spoke up. Rhonda hesitated and turned to Beverley.

"It needs to be legible." She said quietly as though Ezra wouldn't be able to hear her.

"I have very good handwriting." Ezra spoke up, surprising Rhonda. She nodded and slid the paper over to Ezra, as well as the pen. He picked it up and began writing. Rhonda tried to lean over to see what it said, but Ezra's arm blocked her view. When he was finished, he slid it over to her. In very neat handwriting it said; Dreamer's Ride. Ezra Meyers.

"Wow. Impressive. You're a very talented young man, Ezra. We are very honored to show off your work at the gallery." Rhonda said as she taped the piece of paper to his drawing. Ezra nodded.

He didn't say much at all most of the time. He was a fairly quiet kid. He usually just minded his own business, stayed out of trouble and scribbled wonderful drawings in his notepad that he brought everywhere. If he saw something he thought was cool, instead of taking a picture, he would draw it. He was a very unique child. Not in a bad way, though.

"Well, that's about it," Rhonda said satisfied. Beverley nodded and patted Ezra's shoulder. He stood up and grabbed his notepad, clutching it tightly, and started to head towards the door.

"Ezra," Beverley stopped him. He turned around. "Say thank you." She mouthed.

"Oh. Thank you." Ezra said. With that, he exited the room, not waiting for his mother.

"Sorry. He's just a little shy, that's all. Thank you so much!" Beverley waved.

"Oh, Mrs. Meyers?" Rhonda stopped her.

"Miss is fine," Beverley corrected her, "Or-or Beverley!"

"Right," Rhonda fake-smiled. "The gallery open house is at 7:00 on Saturday. His work will be the star of the show, I can guarantee you!"

"Thanks." Beverley smiled. She opened the door and started off to find her son.

Ezra always hated pictures. He preferred drawings. Things that you could create, rather than what pixels could capture.

When the time had come to go see his drawing at the gallery, he was stopped by about 30 people and asked to take a picture by it. He got all kinds of comments like, "You're so young to be so talented!" or, "Did you draw this?" "It's phenomenal!" He got a little sick of it very early on. He wanted to go home and draw by himself. Make another masterpiece. But he was forced to stay and present his work like a "real artist". Whatever that meant.

By about 8:03, a younger girl, probably two years older than Ezra, came up to him while he was standing by his drawing. She was taller than him and had light brown hair tied in braids. Ezra thought she was pretty. But was too tired to stare.

"Hi." The girl said. "I'm Carrie. What's your name?" She stuck her hand out to shake his. Ezra just stared at it and then nodded.

"Ezra."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then why'd you ask?" Ezra said plainly.

Carrie blinked. Ezra didn't mean to be rude, but he wasn't up for conversations.

"This is really cool. Did you think of that on your own?" Carrie switched the subject. Ezra nodded.

"What grade are you in?"

Ezra held up one finger.

"First?"

He nodded again. Carrie looked at him confused.

"You don't say much." She observed.

He just shrugged. "The drawing speaks for itself."

"Clever." She said.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you. I have to go." Ezra politely pushed past her and went off to find his mom. He wanted to ask her to go home. An hour and five minutes was long enough.

Eventually, he found his mom talking to Ms. Tiller and some other random lady. He went up to her and tugged on her sleeve. Beverley bent down.

"What's up, buddy? Did you take lots of pictures?"

Ezra sighed and nodded. "Can we go now, please? I'm tired." Beverley nodded and tapped Ms. Tiller on the shoulder, interrupting her conversation.

"Ezra is a bit tired. I think we're going to head out. Thanks so much for all of this!" Beverley smiled her big, white smile.

After Beverley said all of her goodbye's to the moms there, they finally made it out to the car. Ezra buckled in and leaned his seat back all the way.

"You didn't want to take your drawing home? You worked so hard on that." Beverley said as she backed out of her spot.

Ezra shrugged. "I have plenty more at home."

"Okay, honey."