Rooftop Artist

Written in response to: Set your story on New Year's Day.... view prompt

0 comments

Contemporary Drama Fiction

The paint danced across the canvas like a ballerina dances across the stage. Mira gazed out across the cityscape in front of her trying to capture the cold, hard features her new city presents her. With every broad brush stroke, her vision comes alive. The Empire State Building is what she’s painting, minus Fay Wray and the giant monkey.

Mira pauses a few seconds to wipe the tear from her eye. She thought it would've been easier being on her own. The orphanage would be looking for her at street level, not on the roof. Mira gets up to move a little closer to the edge to feel the essence of the city. She gets a big whiff of baking bread and it makes her stomach growl. It’s been two days since I’ve eaten, she thinks to herself.

Mira bumps into her paint set that was sitting on the edge. She gave out a gasp as her paints tumbled out of control towards the pavement. A few seconds later, she heard a man voice from below.

“What in the world!”

John Standish looked to the left shoulder of his Italian suit, now covered in artists’ paint. He looked upward to see a young girl sheepishly smiling at him. “Get down here NOW!”

“I’m coming down, calm down.”

A few minutes later Mira comes sauntering down the steps. “I’m sorry mister for getting your suit dirty.”

“Dirty… DIRTY. This is a five hundred dollar suit.”

Mira shakes her head. “Look. Send me a bill and I’ll put it in my bills that need to be paid pile.” Mira turns to go back upstairs and says, “Why are you wearing an expensive suit when you work in a bakery?”

“I don’t work in it, I own it young lady.”, John sarcastically responded. “Where are your parents. They’re going to get the bill and you’re going to get a lesson in respect.”

Mira lowered her head so she can wipe a tear away without John seeing her. “My mom passed away last year and I never knew my dad. He split before I was born. He could make a baby, but not stick around to support it.”

“Look kid. We got off on the wrong foot. It’s New Years Day. Time to make new friends, new beginnings. My name is John. And you are…?”

“Mira. Mira Monroe. I’m sorry about your suit. It was an accident. I was painting up on the roof, trying to avoid Child Protective Services and the orphanage.”

“Tell you what Miss Mira, go up and gather your paintings. Bring them inside while I make us some hot chocolate and danishes. I’d love to see your pictures.” John headed to the kitchen while Mira went up to the roof to gather her supplies. Mira went up the fire escape to grab her unfinished painting. She wishes she had finish before showing them to John. Mira grabs the canvas, which is too big for her backpack and carefully navigates the fire escape back down to street level to SSD- Standish Succulent Desserts. She took a seat at a center table when John brought the hot chocolate and danish.

“Why are you running the orphanage and CPS?”

“I was staying with my Aunt and Uncle, but they clearly didn’t want me and nobody wants a sixteen year old kid to adopt. We’re damaged goods. So I ran off to be on my own.”

“What are you doing about money for food and living?”

“I get by. You don’t have to worry yourself about me. I’ll find a way to get you a new suit.”

“Don’t worry about that. Let’s get to your paintings.”

Mira pulled out a half finished painting of the Empire State Building with the sun poking out giving the building a halo effect. Almost angelic looking. 

“This is very good. Would you mind if I display this in my store once you’re finished with it?”

Before Mira could answer, Johns’ eyes went wide. “Where did you get that backpack?”

Mira lifts up the backpack. But doesn’t hand it over. She takes out two more smaller paintings she finished last week and placed them on the table and puts the bag under the table guarding it with her foot.

“Let me see it please. I think I recognize it.”

“I got it from my mom before she passed.”

John took the bag and studied it. He saw the inscription Property of John Standish. John Standish picked up the two 5x7 smaller paintings. Portraits of a man and woman. He studied the womans face, then went to the mans face. “These are well done. Is this your mom.”

“Yes.”

“Who is the man?”

“From what my mom described of him, he’s my father.”

“I thought you’ve never met him before?”

“I haven’t. This is just the description mom gave of him. I don’t even know if he’s alive or not. Mira took a sip of hot chocolate and a bite of a cheese danish when the front door opened.

“Mira, it’s time you came with us.”

John stood up,”Who are you?”

“I am Jennifer and this is Brandon. We’re with Child Protective Services. This girl is not who she appears to be. She’s a runaway and we’re here to take her back to the orphanage.”

Mira stood up and said, “Please Mr. Standish, I can’t go back there. The place is full of rats, the keeper hits us if we’re out of line. It’s awful.”

Jennifer spoke up. “Mr. Standish, it’s not that bad. It’s a state run orphanage.”

“Does making it a state run orphanage automatically make it the best.”

“Of course, with your state taxes, we have the resources to make it the best.” John went back to the table with Mira. “Come back. As of right now, Mira will remain in my care.”

“That’s not going to hap..”

John cut her off. “I said get out!”

“I’ll be back with the police.”

“We’ll be here.”

John turned his attention to Mira. “Tell me a little about your mom.”

“She was beautiful. She had blond hair, a beautiful smile, but sad eyes too. She never told me why she was sad. She drank too much. Either to celebrate or forget something.”

John stood and walked away to think and reflect on Mandy Monroe. His high school sweetheart. The woman he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with. The woman he was most afraid of. She never contact him for child support. And now her daughter was in front of him. His daughter was in front of him. Should John reveal himself to Mira.

John walked back to the table and sat across from Mira. “Mira, let me tell you a little about your father. I knew him.”

January 04, 2024 18:54

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.