The Earth Painter by Melissa Turner Lee

Author:Melissa Turner Lee [Lee, Melissa Turner]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Young Adult
ISBN: 9781466430631
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 13742264
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2011-08-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Mom and Dad were heading out to some place in the country for breakfast. They tapped on my door to see if I wanted to come along, but I said I wanted to sleep a little longer. In my groggy state, I’d forgotten Khai-Ree was there, but then it came to me. I sat up in bed. There he sat, still painted like a flower.

“Did Fritz come back?”

Khai-Ree rolled his eyes. “No.”

I got up and made my bed, flipping it to the tan side.

“Why did you do that?” Khai-Ree asked.

I tucked my pink throw pillows under my bed. “I don’t like pink or big flowers.” Then I looked at him, painted like a big pink flower. “Sorry.” I giggled a little.

“Well, I don’t like being a big pink flower. We have that in common.” He examined himself with disapproval in my dresser mirror. “Do you think you could ask Theo to undo this? It seems he listens to you.”

“I can try.” I motioned for the flower man to follow me. “I’m going to get some breakfast.”

He followed and stood in my kitchen while I filled the kettle to make instant oatmeal and some instant cappuccino. Mom had already cleaned the coffee pot. I didn’t want to clean it again and or hear about the mess. I took a seat at the table to wait for the kettle whistle. I looked at Khai-Ree still standing. “Please, sit.”

Khai-Ree sat and stared out into space. Gosh it was awkward. “So how long are you supposed to stay with me?”

“Until my painter comes to relieve my post.”

Silence.

I looked around the kitchen. Finally, the kettle sounded. I jumped up and poured water over my dry oats and drink powder. I stirred them each before grabbing them to leave. “I’m going to eat in my room.”

Khai-Ree looked around the kitchen and then at me. “Why? I thought this was the room designated for eating.”

I brushed past him and headed for my room. “You sound like my mother, Khai-Ree.”

Khai-Ree got up to follow me, but I stopped him. “I’m going to get dressed too. Wait here.”

I came back out in jeans and a t-shirt. Khai-Ree sat while I washed, dried and put away my dishes. I spent the time trying to think of a conversation I could have with him. Finally, it came to me as I finished. I sat down at the table and asked, “Tell me about the painting you lost?”

Suddenly, this man with the constant look of irritation hung his head. “Why am I always tortured with this?” It sounded like he was about to cry.

“I’m sorry. I was just asking.” I felt terrible for causing him distress but at the same time found it hard to take a man painted like a flower seriously.

Khai-Ree raised his eyes to meet mine. “I am Khai-Ree-Hloa-Theo. I am assistant painter to Theo. I keep up with his work. I assist him as he has need of me. I organize the chaos as he concentrates on his creations.

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