Paint the Town

to need or not to need

After the meeting with Antonio, Henry gradually began to return to his normal self. His chin tilted higher and higher, he walked into the classroom with a brighter demeanor, and started to laugh again.

In little to no time, he was passing his cartoons around to his classmates and eating his gluten free granola bars with a smile. One day, he gave his drawing to Lizzie.

It was the same cartoon man, with wild hair and dressed in a leather jacket. "You rock!" it read, the man standing on his toes, shredding a guitar. Upon further inspection of the beard and sculpted hair, she deduced the cartoon man to be Antonio himself. Lizzie laughed before folding it and sticking the paper in her pocket for later.

Later came and she was on dismissal
duty again, wrapped in her coat and covered to her nose with a scarf. To the chagrin of the parents, the drive up was being repaved to repair the potholes littering the ground. As a result, during the week parents were required to walk from the front parking lot to the rear in order to pick up their children.

It was strange seeing the bottom halves of parents. From where she stood, Lizzie was used to seeing only their heads, left to guess if they were tall or short like her.

Dismissal was almost over and the number of children was dwindling when Lizzie spotted a tall figure approaching in a black wool coat.

"Miss Mars," said Antonio as he neared, looking for Henry.

Lizzie had one hand in her pocket, her
fingers wrapped around the slip of paper Henry had given her earlier in the day. She rubbed it between her thumb and index finger, crumbling and crinkling the paper as Antonio found Henry, took his small hand, and began to walk away.

The paper in her pocket made its way to her finger tips when suddenly and expectedly, she was speeding to catch up with them.

"Henry!" she called. Antonio stopped what he had been saying to his son to turn around. His eyebrows knit at the sight of Lizzie's bright red coat. "I wanted to give this back to you buddy," she said, handing her drawing back to Henry. Antonio smiled down at his son. "Henry says you draw these for him. You're quite the artist, Mr. Alvarez."

Antonio chuckled. "I suppose you can say that."

It became quiet again, and with Henry looking up at her with his soft brown eyes, she mustered up the courage to blurt out eager words. "Has Henry spoken to you about the mural we're—well I'm— putting together?"

"No," he said, looking down at his son with thick, puzzled eyebrows, "I'm afraid he hasn't."

"You see that wall over there?" Lizzie said, pointing to the red dirt colored wall, with chipped bricks and remnants of scrubbed off graffiti. "I'm working to have a mural painted on it for the kids, and I'm looking for an artist." The more she spoke, the more her face morphed into one of inquiry.

He knew what she was getting at, but all he could do was laugh with amusement. "I'm sure you'll find one, Miss Mars."

"Marks. With a 'K.'"

"Of course," he said with a smug grin, turning on his heels to walk Henry to the car.

Lizzie huffed and rolled her eyes. She did not need Antonio Alvarez.

***

The next day, Lizzie was sitting at her desk, scrolling through Thumbtack, and Facebook, and Hire-an-Artist.com searching for an artist nearby that didn't charge three times her given budget.

Keller, New Jersey was a small town; if there were artists available, she would know. Volunteers would step forward, or the PTA would poach one for her.