Page 63 of Where Dreams Begin

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“Some nice samples of your work,” Toby explained.

Rafael fell back on attitude. “Hell, I don’t have anything saved. I just draw on scraps and throw them away.”

Toby winced, then looked back at the magnificent drawing. “My house is the perfect background, and I’d like to see you get started on the mural just as soon as you can. When you’re through here this morning, Rafael, come on over to my place, and I’ll help you get some sketches together for a portfolio.”

“Wait a minute,” Luke cautioned. “The drawing’s good, I’ll grant you that, but you haven’t proved who did it. I’d like to see you draw something right here, Rafael.”

Tina Stassy had worked her way to the front of the crowd. She had a firm hold on Charlie so he wouldn’t bolt if he became frightened. “Go on, Rafael, I’ve seen you draw. Show Luke how it’s done.”

After returning with Toby, Dave had hung back out of way, but now he began to laugh and was his usual helpful self. “We still have plenty of paper and pencils.”

Rafael’s chin was tucked close to his chest as he addressed Luke. “What is it you want me to draw?”

“Why not a sketch of Mrs. Brooks?” Luke suggested. “She’d make an interesting subject.”

Catherine didn’t dare look at Luke when she was so angry with him, but she was too eager to help Rafael to refuse his surprising request. She swept her hair around her ear and moved toward the closest chair. “Will this be all right?” she asked.

“Wherever,” Rafael grumbled. He took the paper and pencils Dave offered and sat opposite her. When the kids began to press close, he waved them off. “Give me some room or I’ll suffocate.”

Once his request was honored, Rafael stared at Catherine a long moment and then gestured for her to tip her head slightly. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Catherine held still, but she was acutely aware of the kids’ comments all around her. Some really did admire Rafael’s artistic ability, while others complained their drawings were just as good as his. Adding to her discomfort, she could feel Luke watching her, but fortunately, Rafael worked quickly, made a show of signing his drawing and then rose to hand it to Luke.

It was a simple pencil sketch with a minimum of shading, but Rafael had captured not only the sweetness of Catherine’s features, but also the subtle force of her personality. Luke compared it briefly to the climbing angels and then gave a reluctant shrug.

“I’ll accept this as proof the drawing is yours, but I need to confer with the other judges before we announce a winner. Mrs. Brooks, Dave, let’s talk outside.”

Eager to speak with Luke where the kids couldn’t overhear, Catherine followed him into the courtyard. After he’d questioned whether Rafael had actually produced the best drawing, she wondered if he might not continue to be perverse and select another entry as the winner. She glanced toward Dave, counting on him to be an ally, but he was waiting for Luke to speak rather than looking her way. She widened her stance and hoped she wouldn’t have to talk until sundown to hand Rafael the honor he’d earned.

“There was a vague reference to a prize,” she reminded Luke. “The winner ought to receive something more than recognition.”

Luke rolled up the drawing of Catherine and held it in a loose grasp. “As I recall, Rafael made it sound as though he wouldn’t pick up a pencil if there weren’t a cash prize. I didn’t want the kids working for the money rather than for the challenge of the mural itself.”

“While that might have been a worthy goal, the drawing is a masterpiece, and Rafael deserves a prize,” Catherine insisted.

“Do you suppose Toby actually believes Rafael might receive a scholarship to Art Center? Wouldn’t that be enough of a prize?” Luke replied.

“No,” Catherine was quick to argue. “The prize has to come from you.”

“Children, please, let’s play nice,” Dave cautioned. “First we ought to choose the winner, then we can hand him, or her, the prize.”

“I’m voting for Rafael,” Catherine announced quickly. “What about you, Dave?”

Dave hunched his shoulders and looked down at his scuffed boots. “I’m mighty partial to Tina’s work, or the idea of it at least, but I can see Rafael’s is far more polished. The angels are almost floating up the front of the house, and it’s an image that would play well on TV. That’s what we need, isn’t it, Luke, a mural that will draw people into Lost Angel rather than send them scurrying away?”

Luke nodded. “We’ll go back in and tell everyone we came to a unanimous decision. I’ll award Rafael a hundred dollar cash prize. Then I’ll explain I’ll have some blank greeting cards made to use as many of the other entries as we can. Will that make you happy, Mrs. Brooks?”

The question caught Catherine off guard, but she had an immediate comeback. “I didn’t know that pleasing me was one of your priorities here, Dr. Starns.”

“Let’s just say I try not to alienate too many of our loyal volunteers,” Luke replied in a perfect imitation of her barely civil tone.

“Now I still expect you to head up the mural project, Mrs. Brooks. While you’re figuring out how much paint you’ll need and choosing the colors, I’m going to have our attorney friends draw up a contract for Toby. I can’t risk having him balk in the middle of the project, or God forbid, having him change Rafael’s design to advertise his own work instead of Lost Angel’s needs.”

Catherine had to admit that was an excellent idea, and it proved just how thoroughly Luke had considered the mural project. That care to detail made her suspect that he’d deliberately meant to provoke Rafael. He certainly possessed a stunning aptitude for stirring up trouble, and it hadn’t even occurred to her until that very moment that he wasn’t merely thoughtless nor clumsy with words.

No indeed, he expressed himself with a cautious precision. That had to mean he deliberately posed provocative questions and at the precise instant when they could do the most damage. Did he actually enjoy creating discord, simply so he could take credit for minimizing the damage? she wondered.

It was a chilling thought and not one she would keep to herself Saturday night. Luke might believe he was a master at the barbed question, but she would give him a taste of his own medicine and laugh if he couldn’t choke it down.


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