Fool's Gold

Chapter Two: Leo Grey's Ad

Chapter Two:

Leo Grey's Ad

After waiting out the storm under the cover of a nearby awning, Florence cautiously ventures out to gauge the damage of her stand. If she is completely honest with herself- which, quite frankly, does not occur often- it could have been much worse. But that is a small comfort as she drops to her knees on the wet pavement, scrambling to pick up her fallen paints and brushes and palettes lest they be caught under the feet of passerby and crushed beyond repair. She cannot afford new supplies if there is no money to purchase them in the first place. After this task is done, she begins to inspect her artwork. Poppies In Spring, which the man named George had nearly purchased, is ruined by the water beyond repair. Date Night, which features a rowdy and glittering group of happy-go-lucky partiers that she has seen pouring out the speakeasies on the weekend, is now lower than trash as far as she is concerned. In fact, all of her work is now either misplaced or completely unable to sell. Only Widow’s Lament, now made more convincing with the “tears” coming from the woman’s eyes, is worth salvaging. The rest she crams regretfully into a trash can.

But now what will she do? She hasn’t saved an extra canvases, a decision that has turned out to be an enormous mistake on her part. Now there is no money, which means no extra supplies and certainly no paying customers if she hasn’t anything to sell. Putting Widow’s Lament carefully into a leather  bag, she walks up a few blocks to the newspaper stand, skirting bedraggled pedestrians who were beginning to emerge from their shelters as she does so.

A stack of papers roughly a foot tall has just been placed on the counter and the owner’s back is conveniently turned away from her. Glancing around to ensure that no one can possibly be looking, she snatches one off of the counter and stuffs it up under her coat. Despite the sweltering heat of the  June day, the coat is necessary in times like this. She runs for a few blocks until she comes to a park, plops herself down on an open bench under a towering oak tree, and is absolutely sure that she would have some peace and quiet. She pulls the paper out of her coat and sets it aside for later.

    Her eyes begin to scan the surrounding area for a stub of pencil, charcoal, anything. She finds her treasure of one abandoned half of a ballpoint pen that is laying in the grass. With any luck, there will still be a bit of ink left if the rain hasn’t washed it away. She takes a deep breath inwards and sends a silent prayer before tearing off a bit of newspaper to sketch on.

    She focuses on a couple walking along the path by the lake. The woman wears a pretty dress with a floral pattern and green cloche hat that covers her bob. Her face is turned towards the man and she nods occasionally, seemingly interested in whatever he is saying to her. The man has eyes  as blue as sapphires that glint as he laughs at something the woman says. He straightens his fedora on his head as his expression hardens. The conversation has turned serious, all previous traces of humor now nowhere to be found.

    The woman clutches her hands together as her tone rises. From her position on the bench, Florence can hear her tearful response to whatever the man has asked.

    “-I didn’t mean to, you need to understand that! You need to believe me! It wasn’t my fault, we both got drunk and,” she hiccups loudly, “I couldn’t control myself! You know what I’m like, darling, you know what happens when I drink too much. Please, just forgive me. Don’t go all ape on me, darling. Can’t we just start fresh?” she pleads frantically with her companion. Florence’s hand flies across the bit of newspaper to sketch the woman’s tear stained cheeks as she looks up into the blazing eyes of the man beside her.

    “I don’t know what to believe with you anymore,” Blue Eyes spits bitterly. “I’ve taken your lies for years, Maude. I’m tired of hearing that everyone you sleep with behind my back is just a drunken mistake. You know that isn’t true, especially with that Ezzard fellow.”