“Wow!”
George said the word second time as he stared at the drawing coming to life in front of him. Malee was too engrossed in the action to notice George eyes looking at her hands with amazement. She was supposed to be worse than him, but it was not going the way he had expected when he asked her to take his place in front of the board. The night market wasn’t the same as the printed photo, but he could see the people moving, smoke rising from the snacks being prepared and the street lamps. At least, he could recognize the location and the scene.
Malee stopped sketching and had a heavy breath out with relief. It wasn’t pretty, but it would do. She had drawn too many from scenarios from her dreams on the streets of Bangkok that if not for the monsoon rain, the roads would be entirely covered with chalk. There were few items she could afford to trade with the children aside from the used chalks thrown away in their classes by their teachers. So she did what she could with the only thing she had. She wiped away a little sweat on her brow with her hand to the chagrin of Mary who was admiring her drawing. Old habits die hard and Mary noted herself to teach her some manners before the master had returned from the overseas with very important people.
“It is great! Where did you learn to draw?” blurted out George.
Malee opened her mouth to explain, but she realised that George wouldn’t be able to picture a life without toys or anything he wished for, so she cut it short.
“I used to draw a lot on the street.”
“Isn’t it vandalism?,” asked George, whose idea of the street is a road paved with gold.
“Very good. It is lacking in some areas, but it is better than…” the professor wanted to say it was better than George, but he realised who was paying him for the lessons.
“George? Isn’t it what you were about to say?,” asked George.
“Well, that wasn’t..” replied the professor.
“It’s ok. I suck at art. No surprise there. But I am surprised you can draw very well.,” said George, to the apparent relief of the professor and Mary. George was still a spoilt brat, albeit very rich and powerful, but a spoilt brat so neither would want to see him angry over a drawing by a servant girl. George put his right index finger to his lips.
“Oh, I know. Why don’t you take her as your student?,” said George with his mouth grinning wide.
“But..” said the professor, but before he could continue, Mary interrupted.
“But young master, she needs to house chores. She has duties.,” said Mary.
“Then make this one of her duties. If anyone asks, said I ordered it.” said George, who realized he could escape the nightmare that was the art class by switching with a servant. A stroke of genius, he would say out loud, if he could. With that, he could not only escape from the lesson he didn’t like but also avoid having to explain to his step-mother why the classes had stopped. He continued his speech.
“Well, professor? You are here to teach art, aren’t you? You have a willing student right in-front of you.,” said George as he offered the deal to the professor who was staring at the drawing and occasionally taking a side glance at Malee.
As for Malee, she found herself in the middle of a trade war between the young boy and the old gentleman who was looking her drawing intensely. She couldn’t understand what was so special about the picture because she had found many other drawings on the roads and on the walls of the buildings that were much better than hers. It wasn’t even her best drawing she would add to herself. That would have to be the picture of the school ground with children playing various games that she drew last month before the heavy rain washed it away from her.
“Then how do we plain to your mother?,” asked the professor.
“She isn’t my mother.,” screamed George before smiling once more. “Don’t worry. I will talk to pa if it comes to that. I’ll tell him we need to train a servant for landscaping the garden.”