Sweaters by Heaven Evette Creater (books to get back into reading txt) đź“–
- Author: Heaven Evette Creater
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I stopped in front of Mr. Mason’s Shop and looked for Mr. Rodriguez’s studio. I found it, the lights were on and I saw him walk past the window with a canvas board in his hands. I went over and knocked on the door nervously. Mr. Rodriguez came to the door and opened it.
“Hola, Secret.” He said with a smile.
“Hi.”
“Come in, I’m glad you came to see me.” he smiled. “Your parents do know you’re here right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, then make yourself at home.” He said happily. “Nice coat. Looks cute on you.”
“Thanks, Mr. Mason gave it to me.”
“Well, that’s nice of him.” He said as he took some cans of paint off the shelf.
I took off my coat and book bag and set it on the table as I walked around the place. He had a poster of Mona Lisa on the wall. I saw that picture before in a history book a while ago. I like her smile, if that’s what you call it.
There were a bunch of canvases against the wall that had the most beautiful paintings on them. He had shelves of paper, paint and other supplies. One of his tables had tons of drawings on them. They looked amazing. I picked up one with a fortune cookie drawn on it.
“You like that?” he asked me.
“Yes…it’s awesome.” I replied.
“You can have that if you want it.” He said with a smile. Dang, everyone’s just being nice to me today.
“Thanks.” I said. The next picture I picked up was a picture of some random kids.
“You have kids?” I asked him.
He stopped what he was doing and didn’t say anything. He completely froze and it seemed like he was afraid of the question I asked him.
“Well, do you?” I asked again.
“Um…I…I did.” He replied softly.
“Did? What do you mean?”
“I had a baby once.” he said. “Oh, you were married before?” I asked hopping up to sit on a table.
“No, never married. Out of wedlock. You know what that is?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s when you have a baby but you weren’t married when you had it.”
“You’re very smart.” He smiled softly.
“Thanks...what happened to your baby?” I asked.
“I had a baby girl. With a woman, that I loved but she was unhealthy.”
“The baby or the mama?” I asked confused.
“The mama.”
“How'd she get sick?”
“I um... I don't really want to talk about it.”
It was silent for a minute but I was really curious and needed to know.
“But what happened to your baby?” I asked eagerly.
“She died in a fire.” he said with a broken voice.
I didn’t want to bring back bad memories but I just couldn't stop with the questions.
“How?”
“Someone burned my house down. I think it was her mama...or someone she knew.
“Why would she do that?” I asked.
“I don’t know sweetie.” he answered softly.
“Didn't she know her baby was inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“You miss her?”
“Who sweetie?” he asked.
“The mama.”
“Sometimes.”
“The baby too?”
“Yea...the baby too sometimes.” he said in a low voice. I could barely hear him.
“How come only sometimes?” I asked.
“Experiences can hurt you or make you stronger.” he said walking to get a canvas from a back room. “And that experience hurts. So much that, I try to forget.”
“Why do you want to forget them, wouldn't you want to remember people you love? “ I asked. The questions were just flowing out.
“You know the monkey bars at a playground?” he asked. I nodded. “Well you have to let go of one bar in order to go to the next don’t you? Well, that’s how life is. You have to let go and forget sometimes to move on.” he said.
“Oh...” was all I could say.
“She would have been nine or ten by now.” He randomly said heartbroken. I could tell he was hurt.
“I’m sorry I asked.” I said softly.
“It’s fine, you didn’t mean anything.” He put on a forced smile before looking down. I hopped off the table and walked around the room more.
“Teach me how to paint.” I said trying to change the subject. He didn’t move, I could tell he was still thinking about his baby. I grabbed a canvas board and a paintbrush and brought it to him. “Show me.” I said.
He snapped out of it and slowly took them out of my hands. He put the board on the easel and stopped.
“You want to paint?” he asked.
“Sure.” I answered.
He went in the back room and brought out a smaller canvas board and a smaller easel, and set it up next to his.
“There.” He said as he smiled. I smiled back and got a brush off the table. “What are you going to paint?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet.” I said.
“That’s alright, sometimes I don’t know what to paint either.” He said with a sigh.
“I’ll paint a teddy bear.” I said. “The one Daniel gave me.”
“Daniel?” he asked.
“My step dad.” I answered.
“Oh. Well what do you think I should paint?” He asked.
“Um, Mickey Mouse?” I said unsurely.
“Ok.” He laughed.
He turned on the radio. We actually had a little fun. We painted and he let me watch TV when I was done. I don't get to watch it a lot because Daniel hogs it. After a while, I fell asleep. I woke up to the sound of Mr. Rodriguez gently calling my name. His voice was sweet and loving.
“Hey sleepy head, it’s getting dark, shouldn’t you be getting home?” he asked.
“No, they’re ok with it.” I answered. I got up and stretched and asked what time it was.
“It’s 7:00pm.” He answered.
“What time do you usually leave here?” I asked.
“About 10pm. Sometimes I stay late.” He answered.
“Oh, I’ll be right back.” I said.
“And where are you going?” he giggled.
“To Golden China. I have to pick up some food from Mrs. Ming, I get it free.” I smiled proudly.
“Oh, is that so?” he asked. “Well, I’ll go with you. It’s too dark for you to be alone.” He explained.
“Fine with me dude.” I said as I put my coat on.
He laughed, got his coat and we walked to Golden China. Despite the cold, It was only a couple blocks away. We talked a little on the way there.
“Why do you like art so much?” I asked.
“Because it sets me free, gets rid of stress.”
“And you?”
“Same reason.” I answered. He smiled.
“How come you don’t play or talk with other children?”
“Because, all the other children are dicks.”
“Your vocabulary…” He laughed while shaking his head.
“I know right, blows your mind doesn’t it?” I replied sarcastically. He laughed again.
“You’re very funny.” He replied with a smile.
“Thanks, and you’re….” I faded off. “Um…you’re…”
“I’m what?” he asked.
“You’re cool.” I said. He giggled some more. “I like your hair.” I said.
“Gracias, I was thinking about cutting it.” He explained.
“You can’t!” I said warning him.
“And why not?”
“I like your hair long…looks nice on you.”
“Well, thank you.” He said with a smile.
When we got to Golden China, there were police everywhere and three ambulances. Mr. Rodriguez stopped walking and reached for my hand to stop me from going ahead of him. We watched for a moment to see what had happened. After we saw nothing but policemen and flashing lights, I got frustrated and broke free from his grip. “Secret!” I heard him yell as I ran past the policemen and into the restaurant.
I stopped when I got behind the counter and found Mrs. Ming on the floor dead. She had been shot in the head and in the chest. Same way my best friend Carlos had been. I stood there frozen. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t talk. I was in shock as I stood in the puddle of blood. Her eyes were open and blood came out of her mouth. The thick blood had straightened out her curls. I just looked at her.
“Little girl!” someone yelled. “Get away! Hey, get back!” he yelled again.
He tried pulling me away and I kept pushing him off.
“Leave me alone, that’s my friend!” I yelled.
Finally someone pulled me from the man’s grip. It was Mr. Rodriguez who had me. He pulled me close to him and looked me in my eyes.
“Don’t ever run off like that again, understand?” He yelled. His face was flushed. “You scared me.” he said softly.
Tears ran down my face as I just looked at him.
“Is this your little girl?” the man asked. “
Yes.” He answered.
“You mind if we ask her some questions?” he asked.
“What kind of questions…and who are you?” Mr. Rodriguez asked.
“I’m Mr. Goldberg. She said she was friends with the victim. We would like to ask her some simple questions. That’s all.” The man explained.
They both looked at me and then at Mrs. Ming.
“Alright.” Mr. Rodriguez said. “But can we go outside.” he asked.
“Of course.” Mr. Goldberg said glancing once more at Sandra before the ambulance people covered her up.
Mr. Goldberg took my hand and we started to walk away. Mr. Rodriguez grabbed him by his arm.
“No, if you have to ask her anything, ask in front of me.” The two men glared at each other, then, Mr. Goldberg agreed.
“Alright honey, how did you know Mrs. Ming?” he asked me.
“I come here every other day and buy fortune cookies. Me and my mom used to come here when I was little.” I answered.
“Where’s your mother now?”
“I don’t know.” I answered. Mr. Rodriguez looked at me.
“When’s the last time you saw Mrs. Ming?”
“Earlier today after school. She gave me free food, I was coming back to get it.”
“Really? And where was Mr. Ming?”
“He’s in china visiting his parents. They’re sick.” I replied.
“And how do you know this?”
“….Mrs. Ming told me when I asked her.” I answered annoyed.
“Alright,” He said as he looked at Mr. Rodriguez. “That’s all we need dear.”
I got a glance of the ambulance men putting the body bag on the gurney. Mr. Rodriguez pulled me close to him and covered my ears. I could still hear the muffled sounds.
“What happened?” Mr. Rodriguez asked him.
“Just a simple robbery gone wrong. She was alone here, the guy robbing her obviously panicked and fired. Son of a bitch got away though. Him and the money.” Mr. Goldberg explained.
“That’s terrible.” He said sympathetically.
“Yea well, Thank you for your time.” Mr. Goldberg smiled as he walked away.
“…Come on Secret. This isn’t for a child’s eyes.” Mr. Rodriguez said softly as he gently pushed me from the scene. I broke free from him and ran in the kitchen.
I looked in the fridge for the small box of shrimp fried rice Mrs. Ming had put up for me. It had my name on it in bright red letters. A tear rolled down my cheek as I took it out and walked back towards Mr. Rodriguez.
“Stop doing that!” he scolded.
We started to walk back to the studio. It was real quiet. Mr. Rodriguez reached out and held my hand. I didn’t refuse. We held hands until we got to the studio.
“You alright?” he asked. I didn’t say anything. “You want me to heat that up for you?” he asked referring to the box of rice under my coat.
“No, I’m never eating it.”
“Well, It’s gonna go bad.” He tried reasoning.
“I don’t care.”
He sat next to me and hugged me. “I know you’re hungry.” He smiled. I didn’t say a thing but my stomach did. He laughed and I smiled. “Come on, let me feed you before I take you home, how about pizza?” he asked. I nodded reluctantly. “What kind you like?” “He asked.
“Just cheese.”
“Really? I like that too.” He said smiling.
After the pizza arrived, we just sat around, ate and relaxed. While we ate, I had to ask him a question that had been bugging me since we left Golden China.
“Why’d you tell that man I was yours?” I asked him.
“Well, all teachers at some point claim their students to be their own. Plus, he wanted to ask you some questions, if I wasn’t your parent, he probably would have wanted a parent’s permission. I didn’t want to worry yours, so I just said you were mine.”
“Oh.” Was all I said.
“I like
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