The Boy Who Painted the World by Melody J. Bremen

Author:Melody J. Bremen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: middle grade, homelessnes and poverty, art, orphans
Publisher: Melody J. Bremen
Published: 2020-07-20T19:18:05+00:00

Chapter 13

“Hi, Lost Boy!” a high-pitched voice yelled.

We were at the park, Grace and me, sitting on a bench. I was reading out loud and Grace was helping me with the hard words. I turned and saw Lizzie with her mom crossing the street towards us.

“Do you know that girl?” Grace asked.

“I think we’re friends, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Lizzie ran up to us. She didn’t have her pink coat on, just a little white jacket. She looked real small. “Hi. I’m Lizzie,” she said to Grace.

“Hi, Lizzie. I see you and Indigo are friends.”

Before I could say anything, Lizzie nodded. “Yup! We both don’t go to school. And we both play in this park. We talk about colors and stuff.”

“I’m learning how to read now.” I held up my book.

“I love reading,” Lizzie said. “I wish I could have a trillion books. My favorites are the Nancy Drew books. I want to be a detective when I grow up.”

“I have plenty of books in my house,” Grace said. “Maybe your mom will let you come over to play with Indigo and you can look at books together.”

“Yeah!” Lizzie ran to her mom, who looked cold and tired like last time. Lizzie jumped up and down when she talked to her.

“Cute little thing,” Grace said, watching her.

“Uh-huh. We named a color after her.”

Lizzie ran back to us. “She said I could!”

Grace went over and talked to Lizzie’s mom for a few minutes. Then we all sat on the bench, took a few sandwiches out of Grace’s bag and ate lunch together.

Lizzie’s mom didn’t eat with us. She sat without talking, her eyes on Lizzie all the time, like she was thinking about something. Lizzie was the one who went to the doctor a lot, but it looked like her mother was the sick one.

After lunch, Grace said, “We need to head home. Lizzie, do you want to walk with us?”

“Mom?” Lizzie looked at her mom.

“It’s better if I drive her,” her mom said in a quiet voice.

We headed out with Lizzie’s mom following us in her car.

“Lizzie is sick,” I said to Grace as we walked. “She told me she goes to doctors and take medicine.”

“Hm. I noticed her hair was just growing in.”

“Is she… does she have cancer?” I asked. That question had been in my head for a little while, but I didn’t want to ask it. I thought the answer wouldn’t be good. Jade had once told me about cancer, when we saw a man with no hair walking near the shelter.

“I think she might. Cancer treatment can make someone’s hair fall out. But her hair’s growing in…”

“That means she’s getting better, right?” She had to. She was my friend. I didn’t have a lot of friends.

“I don’t know, hon,” Grace said with a little sigh. “I really don’t know.”

When we got to the house, Lizzie’s mom said she’d be back in an hour to get Lizzie. We played a board game in the living room. Lizzie didn’t sit quietly while she played – she bounced around like a rubber ball and talked straight through.

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