turned their backs to her
and faced the painting.
“What’s it called?” Emery asked.
There was a number one on the head of a small
tack stuck into the wall next to the painting, so Philip matched
that number one with the number one on the sheet Tracy had given
him.
“It’s called, Journey Through Life .
Emery, you know how much this thing costs!”
“Ten dollars?”
Philip gave him a look. “Pfft. Try three
thousand five hundred dollars.”
“Three thousand five hundred dollars! For
colored feet?”
The boys looked at the painting with a new
appreciation.
Emery took the paper from Philip and studied
it. Then he turned and walked over to Tracy.
“Did anybody buy that feet painting?” he
asked.
“Not yet,” Tracy said raising her eyebrows.
“Interested?”
Emery shook his head hard and walked back to
the painting.
Suddenly, Philip grabbed the paper back from
Emery.
“Look at this!” he said. At the top of the
page were the words: ARTIST: Olivia Trinetti .
“Ms. Trinetti?”
“Must be. Yeah, it says here she’s a teacher
and everything.”
“Wow,” said Emery. “Ms. Trinetti paints feet
when she’s not in school.”
That sounded so silly both boys started
laughing again.
“Shhh,” said Philip. “That lady’ll hear
us.”
They controlled themselves and moved to the
next painting.
“Did she paint this one, too?” Emery
asked.
“Yeah. She painted ‘one,’ ‘two,’ ‘three,’ and
‘four.’”
The boys studied painting number ‘two.’ This
time instead of feet, bananas covered the canvas. Bananas of every
possible color. Except yellow. The background of the painting was
yellow.
“What’s this called?” Emery asked. “ The
Bananas of Life? ”
They snorted with laughter again.
“It’s called The Possibilities of
Life ,” said Philip.
“I find it quite a-peel-ing,” said Emery.
Philip and Emery looked at each other and started laughing again.
When they realized the noise they made, they squeezed their lips
tightly together and moved on.
The third painting was on the other side of a
wall that shielded them from Tracy’s view, and they were glad for
the protection.
“Feet and bananas,” said Emery with a shake
of his head. They looked at painting number ‘three’ and started
laughing again.
This painting was of nothing but eyes. Big
eyes, small eyes. Eyes of every color against a background of
red.
By now the boys couldn’t stop laughing.
Having to laugh without making any noise only made them laugh
harder. Through teary eyes Philip looked at the paper for the title
of the painting.
In a sputtering whisper he said, “ The
Vision of Life .” “‘Eye’ guess that’s a good name,” said Emery,
pulling down the skin under his left eye. In between breaths of
laughter, he added, “Too bad she couldn’t put everything into one
painting. The eyes could watch the feet squish the bananas.”
“Stop it,” laughed Philip. His sides were
starting to hurt.
The boys peeked at the fourth painting and
had to turn away.
When they thought they could handle it, they
turned back to the painting. They burst into giggles again and
struggled hard to stay quiet.
The fourth painting was covered with dancing
pickles. Green pickles with tiny legs and eyes, but no arms. And
each pickle wore a hat of a different shape and color, and each hat
had a colorful feather in it. The background of this painting was
orange.
Gasping for breath, the boys looked at the
paper to find the title of the painting.
“ The Joy of Life,” said Philip, hardly
able to speak.
“Yeah,” Emery sputtered. “If you like
gherkins.”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Philip, who
knew he couldn’t stand laughing silently much longer without either
hurting himself or screaming out loud.
The boys turned their backs on the paintings
and breathed in and out.
After a minute Philip said, “Are you
okay?”
Emery took a deep breath. “I think so.”
Philip opened and closed his mouth a
and faced the painting.
“What’s it called?” Emery asked.
There was a number one on the head of a small
tack stuck into the wall next to the painting, so Philip matched
that number one with the number one on the sheet Tracy had given
him.
“It’s called, Journey Through Life .
Emery, you know how much this thing costs!”
“Ten dollars?”
Philip gave him a look. “Pfft. Try three
thousand five hundred dollars.”
“Three thousand five hundred dollars! For
colored feet?”
The boys looked at the painting with a new
appreciation.
Emery took the paper from Philip and studied
it. Then he turned and walked over to Tracy.
“Did anybody buy that feet painting?” he
asked.
“Not yet,” Tracy said raising her eyebrows.
“Interested?”
Emery shook his head hard and walked back to
the painting.
Suddenly, Philip grabbed the paper back from
Emery.
“Look at this!” he said. At the top of the
page were the words: ARTIST: Olivia Trinetti .
“Ms. Trinetti?”
“Must be. Yeah, it says here she’s a teacher
and everything.”
“Wow,” said Emery. “Ms. Trinetti paints feet
when she’s not in school.”
That sounded so silly both boys started
laughing again.
“Shhh,” said Philip. “That lady’ll hear
us.”
They controlled themselves and moved to the
next painting.
“Did she paint this one, too?” Emery
asked.
“Yeah. She painted ‘one,’ ‘two,’ ‘three,’ and
‘four.’”
The boys studied painting number ‘two.’ This
time instead of feet, bananas covered the canvas. Bananas of every
possible color. Except yellow. The background of the painting was
yellow.
“What’s this called?” Emery asked. “ The
Bananas of Life? ”
They snorted with laughter again.
“It’s called The Possibilities of
Life ,” said Philip.
“I find it quite a-peel-ing,” said Emery.
Philip and Emery looked at each other and started laughing again.
When they realized the noise they made, they squeezed their lips
tightly together and moved on.
The third painting was on the other side of a
wall that shielded them from Tracy’s view, and they were glad for
the protection.
“Feet and bananas,” said Emery with a shake
of his head. They looked at painting number ‘three’ and started
laughing again.
This painting was of nothing but eyes. Big
eyes, small eyes. Eyes of every color against a background of
red.
By now the boys couldn’t stop laughing.
Having to laugh without making any noise only made them laugh
harder. Through teary eyes Philip looked at the paper for the title
of the painting.
In a sputtering whisper he said, “ The
Vision of Life .” “‘Eye’ guess that’s a good name,” said Emery,
pulling down the skin under his left eye. In between breaths of
laughter, he added, “Too bad she couldn’t put everything into one
painting. The eyes could watch the feet squish the bananas.”
“Stop it,” laughed Philip. His sides were
starting to hurt.
The boys peeked at the fourth painting and
had to turn away.
When they thought they could handle it, they
turned back to the painting. They burst into giggles again and
struggled hard to stay quiet.
The fourth painting was covered with dancing
pickles. Green pickles with tiny legs and eyes, but no arms. And
each pickle wore a hat of a different shape and color, and each hat
had a colorful feather in it. The background of this painting was
orange.
Gasping for breath, the boys looked at the
paper to find the title of the painting.
“ The Joy of Life,” said Philip, hardly
able to speak.
“Yeah,” Emery sputtered. “If you like
gherkins.”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Philip, who
knew he couldn’t stand laughing silently much longer without either
hurting himself or screaming out loud.
The boys turned their backs on the paintings
and breathed in and out.
After a minute Philip said, “Are you
okay?”
Emery took a deep breath. “I think so.”
Philip opened and closed his mouth a
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