Chapter 26 - The Drawing
Ethan was seven when he found the old dinosaur drawing.
The one from the bedroom floor.
ME.
MOM.
DAD.
Blue tie.
I had kept it in a folder.
Not intentionally as evidence.
Just art.
He laughed.
“Dad hair bad.”
“You drew it.”
“Still.”
Then:
“Where Grandma?”
“You didn’t draw her.”
“Why?”
“You tell me.”
He thought.
“Maybe mad.”
Possible.
Then he flipped paper.
On back, I had written date of incident.
Habit from attorney.
He asked:
“What date?”
I told him.
“Oh.”
Then:
“Room day.”
“Yes.”
He looked at drawing.
“Can I keep?”
“It’s yours.”
He took it to desk.
Added another figure.
Small.
Gray hair.
GRANDMA.
Then drew a line? I expected conflict symbol.
Instead placed her near edge.
“Why there?”
“She visits.”
Fair.
Not center.
Not erased.
His map.
Then he drew two houses.
MOM.
DAD.
Family after divorce, represented by a seven-year-old without tragedy.
I nearly cried.
He rolled eyes.
“Mom.”
“I’m fine.”
“No crying on art.”
Rule.
May you like
I obeyed.
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