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“What do you do when you’re not fishing?”
“I like to paint. But I’m not that good at it. I do it anyway because you don’t do things you like cuz you’re good at it, you do it cuz you like it. Right?” she asked, squinting up at him. “I’m asking you ‘cause you look like somebody that might know lots of things.”
He resisted a grin and nodded. “I do know lots of things and I do agree with your assessment regarding being good at something you like.”
“You got big words,” she said easily. “Not many people around here has big words. I don’t know many but I’m only in the fourth grade and the school I go to has kids of all ages in it. It’s amess,” she said, making him grin at her candid manner. “You got fifteen-year-olds and four year olds. I told momma I can learn a lot more teaching myself. I’m the best reader in my class because I like to read books. Smart ones and fun ones.”
“Yes? What sort of smart books do you like?”
“My favorite smart book is the Bible cuz God wrote it and he’s the smartest of all. And then The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind is my second favorite. That one shows you when you put your mind to something you can do it no matter how hard it might seem. Maybe that’s not the smartest of the books out there but I think the smart things in it are important. My Maw-Maw calls it wisdom. That’s when you know when and how to use your brain for doing good. That’s why I’m selling my artwork. I had my fun painting it, I don’t need them. Momma thinks it’s nice of me but I know she thinks it won’t sell, but they also thought William would never harness wind and yet he did, andhesaved his entire village from starving. I think that’s the best kind of smarts to have. You?” she asked, squinting up at him again.
“I do indeed,” he said, marveling over her moral depth and aptitude. “I suppose it wouldn’t surprise a strong mind such as yours to learn I am renovating my apartment and in need of new artwork.”
“Really?” she said, aiming her astonished oval mouth at him.
“Really.”
“Well, I got lots you can have if you want a few pieces, I don’t mind. I don’t have a lot of friends much less smart ones,” she muttered. “And Maw-Maw says friends take care of each other. I know we just met but…friendships gotta start somewhere, right?”
He chuckled, finding her delightful. “Indeed they do. And while you’re generously helping me with original art work, you will allow me to help you by purchasing them? They are worth much more when purchased.”
“Really?”
“To me they are.”
She gave a little shrug, tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear. “Well, I’ll cut you a deal.”
He laughed at that. “I love a good deal. What do you have in mind?”
“It’s kinda weird being friends with somebody without a name so, you tell me that and I’ll sell my art at fifty percent off.”
“For my name?” he chuckled, getting her raised brows and serious nod.
“Vex is my name.” He held his hand out. “A pleasure to meet you, Rosavelt.” She shook his hand.
“Momma won’t believe her ears when I tell her I made money while fishing.”
“Well, unless you cast your line into the sea of possibility, you will never get a bite.”
She gasped, jerking her line.
He looked. “You’ve gotten two bites.”
“Murphy’s gonna have to move out now!” she cried, reeling it in.
“Murphy?”
“Momma says Murphy’s Law moved into our house ‘cause so many bad things happened one after another. Oh boy, he’s a fighter!” she laughed, pulling it out of the water. “Look at you, Mr. Fatty Pants. Maw-Maw’s gonna love you.” She dropped him in a bucket and unhooked him, holding her catch toward him with a big smile, her freckles adding to her innocence. “I want to name him Fred, but Maw-Maw says it’s not nice to name your food the same day you catch it.”
His laughter came unbidden at that odd wisdom right as he caught a new scent.
“Momma, look, I caught one!” Rosavelt turned and aimed her bucket at Vex. “This is my new friend Mr. Vex. I think he done beat up that mean Murphy ‘cause he not only attracted the fish, he bought some of my art work ‘cause he just so happened to be redecorating his house. I tried to give it away but he said it’s more valuable to buy it.”
“Did he,” she said, reaching her hand out toward him. “I’m Joe, her mother. Go wash up, Maw-Maw’s coming to get you, I’ll be working late.”
“Bye Mr. Vex,” she called. “I’ll pick some paintings out I think you’ll like. Give momma a phone number so we can do business.”
“Oh, boy,” the woman muttered. “I’m sorry. I don’t trust people. What are you doing again with her paintings?”
