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Show 85 "How would you know?" she said. "Ohh ..." "About horses maybe. I'm glad you like them, Chess." "I think they're beautiful." "Come on. That don't say much. What do you really think?" "I don't know. I like them . . . they make me like horses. They make me remember that I like them." She nodded, smiling to herself as she picked up the drawings to put them away. "Wait. Let Dom and Betty see them." "Huh-uh. I'd sooner they didn't." "But they'd like them too." She shook her head very definitely. "Come on, let's go outside." At the time I didn't understand the degree to which she had trusted me. We walked around the house to the front lawn and in the most natural way, as I might after dancing with her and was escorting her back to Pat, I took her hand. But it felt more alive, warmer, more there than it ever could in a gym. The night was soft, scented with clover and honeysuckle. With no moon the stars blazed, and then we moved onto the lawn under the trees and it was velvety dark. Dom and Betty were two shapes wrestling on the lawn, laughing and giggling. Kate and I sat with our backs against the trunk of a big poplar tree and she said she had been drawing for years. She liked to. She tried to paint with watercolors once but that hadn't worked. Someday she would like to take a class in how to draw and paint, she said, and at that moment she seemed a stranger to me, someone I did not know. I'm not sure that even Pat really knew about her drawing. Then Dom raised his voice to ask if Kate was going with us. |
