The Art teacher

At the age of 70, Milton Hersh and his wife retired to a senior community in Miami Beach. Six months after his 75 birthday he became a widower. As with many others who lost their loved ones, Milton was devastated. 

It took many more months for him to get his life back together again. Milton was a commercial artist and illustrator and he loved to paint in oils. One winter day, when he had enough of rainy days he decided to set up a still life of fruits and flowers and paint again in the spare bedroom that he converted into a studio. 

Soon many of his paintings were hung in the community clubhouse which he again started to visit. Then one day the president of the club suggested he start an art class for the members.

“Milton,” he said, “why don’t you volunteer and create an art class, I’m sure you’ll get many people interested in it.”

And so, Milton became an art teacher. The club purchased some sketchbooks at an art supply store with pencils and some pastel colors as a start. The class was advertised in the cafeteria, the elevators, and by the swimming pool bulletin board. It was to start next week on a Wednesday afternoon in the library.

Milton was a bit anxious about it as he didn’t think there was much artistic talent in the whole community. But, what the hell, what does he have to lose. It will get him out of the apartment for a while and get him around people. He didn’t think anyone

would show up anyway.

Surprisingly, that Wednesday when he came into the library carrying his supplies there were five women and two men sitting around a table chatting away.

“Hi, Are you here for the art lessons?” He asked looking around the table a bit surprised.

The students all shook their heads in the affirmative. Milton then passed a sheet of paper around for them to sign their names. Of course, he realized that it would probably be easier to go to Mars than to teach these people how to draw, however, he started this and he’ll take it to the end. He’ll start with squares and circles then perhaps draw a flower. A daisy would probably be the easiest. Anyway, first things first. Let's get to know each other.

Milton called out the first name on the list.

“Linda?”

“That’s me,” Linda answered raising her arm. Linda was in her eighties as sure as the sun rose in the east, maybe even more but she had a happy face and Milton was sure that if she could hold a pencil she would be able to draw a circle.

He called three others and they seem to be in the same category as Linda. Nice ladies for sure.

Then he called Rose. No one answered so he called her name again hoping that Rose hadn’t demised in the meantime but when he looked up he saw this petite woman with just a raised finger and a smile on her face that could send men to prison for thinking what Milton was thinking right now.

Rose couldn’t have been older than around sixty. She had that face of an innocent child that you knew had the devil in her and yet it seemed so innocent.

“Here...” She finally said as if he asked a silly question. Why haven’t I seen her around before? Milton asked himself. Where has she been all those years I lived here. 

“I guess I’m the last then,” A voice from the side interrupted Milton’s trance. He looked to his right to see where that voice came from. He assumed it was Zelda.

“The zees always come last,” she twittered. “Even in school I was always last. Zelda Zilnik. But my friends call me ZeZe.”

Zelda or ZeZe was also a pleasant-looking woman, at least mid-seventies with fire red hair and a smile as big as her face. The two men were husbands of two of the women there who acted as if they were kidnapped for this class.

Milton thought this is going to be a fine crowd. He looked back at Rose and he saw her still smiling that coquettish smile at him which made him a bit uncomfortable.

By the time the introductions were done, there wasn’t much time left to start the lesson so Milton showed them what to expect the next time they met with a few parting words.

“It was very nice to meet you ladies and gentlemen and I hope we can draw something interesting by the time this class is over. Thank you for coming.”

Milton was putting his stuff away when Rose came over. 

“Do you need any help?” She asked in a husky voice that belied her size. Rose was probably five feet and a couple of hairs tall. She most likely weighted ninety pounds wet. But she had this bearing that made her seem much taller. Maybe it was her high heels but he thought there was more to her. If she wasn’t a dancer or an actress I will eat my hat, he thought.

There was nothing else to pack. Milton had everything in a couple of Publix plastic bags, there was a pencil which rolled away from him to the other side of the table and so he pointed to it as he couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

Rose stretched over the table to get the pencil, exposing a fine set of legs.

“Here you are teacher,” She said so coyly that Marilyn Monroe couldn’t have said it better.

Though the library was air-conditioned, Milton was beginning to break out in a sweat.

“Thank you,” he barely got out. “I’ll see you, next class, then.” He said as he picked up the bags and forced himself to leave as he felt Rose’s eyes followed him through the door.

Later that evening he met his friend, Harvey for supper and told him what happened.

“Rose is in your class?” Harvey asked a bit louder than necessary.

A man at the next table turned and asked what class that was.

And so, when Milton came into the classroom next Wednesday the student body seemed to have more than doubled. Now there were more men than women. All sitting as close to Rose as they could. Including his friend Harvey.

Milton decided to hell with the men’s names, he would start the class with art. He tore out blank pages from the sketchbook and passed them out with a pencil. There was a moving blackboard on the side used by the board of directors so he brought it over and slowly began to draw a daisy. Might as well give them something challenging and see where it goes.

“First you draw a small circle and then draw these elongated ellipses around it. And then a long stem to which we’ll add some leaves.” 

He drew it slowly so they all could follow it easily. He stopped at a point and walked around the room looking at the student's work. The men, of course, he knew, weren’t here to draw flowers or anything else. They were here to sit next to Rose. So the drawings they made wouldn’t win a contest in a kindergarten class.

The ladies at least tried. Then he looked over Rose’s shoulder, which by the way was as perfect as a Michelangelo’s sculpture. No matter what she drew he’d give her an A+.

At the end of the session, he collected all the papers and thanked the class again for coming. The men left the room but congregated outside the door. Waiting for Rose no doubt.

Milton looked at the men’s papers which were filled with tasteless little comments, so he threw them into the wastebasket as he was sure they wouldn’t come back. The ladies, his true students, he put away so he could write some comments and encouragements on them. Rose he put on top. 

Actually, hers wasn’t bad at all. The middle circle was almost round and the petals were almost elliptical but the stem was perfectly straight as if she used a ruler. She didn’t get to the leaves yet, but there will be time at the next session.

Milton was satisfied as he put the drawings away in a manila envelope.

“So how did I do, teacher?” That seductive voice came from behind. Milton thought everyone left but Rose, he guessed, was waiting there behind him.

Though his throat was as dry as a Matzo six months after Passover, he managed to say. “Very good for your first time, Rose”

“Thank you, Mr. Hersh. Is there anything I can do for extra credit?”

Milton didn’t know whether she was serious or making a joke so he just smiled sheepishly.

Apparently Rose wasn’t going to let this go. “Maybe we can discuss it over lunch or dinner, Mr. Hersh.”

Milton wasn’t made of steel. If he was some other man he was certain something would have come to mind to say to her but Milton truly was a nice gentlemanly person and didn’t know how to handle a woman that talked in double entendre. His wife had been a very good woman and he truly loved her and their romance went as far as making out in his car but nothing like what he thought Rose was proposing. If she even was proposing. 

He happened to look up and most of the men still hung around the door supposedly waiting for the Siren of Miami Beach to come out.

Rose saw him look and probably saw the men too and most likely realized that they might be waiting for her though why she didn’t know. She had never made eyes to any one of them nor said anything remotely similar to what she said to Milton.

Something about Milton struck a note with her and she wanted him to come to her. In a way, she was a bit embarrassed playing this Femme Fatale role with Milton which she hopped was all in jest but he seemed to have taken it very seriously. She thought she’d back up a bit.

“OK, then, I’ll see you next time. Thanks” And she headed towards the lady's room, at least till the men get tired of waiting.

When she went in she looked at herself in the mirror. Sure she still had it. She was always small, almost like a grown-up doll and men still flocked around her till she met her future husband, Thomas. He was as shy as Milton and for her, it was love at first sight. And then, two years ago, she lost him. He just worked too hard as an attorney and it just got to him. One day he was working on a huge case, the next he was in a hospital emergency ward, and the next in an expensive box.

They were living in New York at that time, in a big house which was useless to her without Thomas so she listened to her sister who lived in this Miami development and moved in with her about three weeks ago. She hadn’t been out much but wanted to do something with her time besides laying by the pool being ogled by these old farts. And then she saw Milton. He so reminder her of her late husband and when she found out he would be teaching an art class, she joined in.

She thought she’d woo Milton but apparently, he didn’t fall for her flirtations. Now she might have lost him altogether. After a while, when she thought the guys got tired of waiting for her by the door, she came out and went to her sister’s apartment feeling melancholy.

The next few days she hardly left the apartment. In any case, the days were hot and humid. She sat in the air-conditioned living room and watched daytime TV or read a book half-heartedly. A blanket of depression overwhelmed her.

A day later the temperature and humidity dropped down and after supper, her sister convinced her to take a walk on the beach which was a stone’s throw away from the condo.

The sun hadn’t set yet and the sky was a pale orange hue with a cool salty breeze flowing from the ocean.

Rose wore a white sarong type of dress with bare shoulders and the cool breeze made her feel lighthearted. She took her sandals off and it felt good to saunter on the bare sand.

As they walked down the beach they saw a man standing in the surf with his pant legs rolled up letting the foam coil around his feet. His sandals were strewn haphazardly on the sand behind him.

When they got closer, Rose recognized that it was Milton. It was almost sad to see him standing there alone staring at the horizon.

“Poor Milton,” her sister said. “I guess he still misses his wife.”

Rose turned to her sister and told her to wait a moment as she went over to him.

Milton hadn’t heard Rose’s footsteps in the sand and so he was surprised to see her by his side.

“Sorry to disturb you, Milton.” She almost whispered the words. “You looked like you were waiting for someone to come out from out there.”

Milton looked down at Rose with a saddened face, she was at least a head shorter than him. In the fading light, she still had a presence. It was a lucky man that could have her, he thought.

“I guess I sort of was...,” he said in a simper, turning back to the sea, “...waiting for someone. I’m here most nights looking out there but of course, no one ever comes...”

Rose took a step closer to him. “Maybe I could be that someone, Milton?”

Milton turned away from Rose because there was a tear in his eye. Did he just win the lottery? He thought...

Rose’s sister looked towards them for a few minutes and saw Rose take Milton’s hand and lean against him and then she saw Milton put his arm around her shoulder. After a moment she turned and went back to her apartment.