Missing Rose (9781101603864) by Serdar Ozkan Read Free Book Online Page B

reveals what’s inside the wave. Wow, I couldn’t be more impressed!”
    â€œThe same as yours?”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œThe storm in you reveals what’s inside pretty well, too.”
    Struck by his comment, Diana’s shoulders slumped.
    â€œI’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
    â€œThat’s okay. What do you really see in the picture?”
    â€œWell . . . I see you haven’t yet added the flying seagull which appears in your other paintings.”
    â€œYou’re quite observant, I must say.”
    â€œSome people think so,” Diana said.
    In spite of his scruffy appearance and crude style of greeting, the artist seemed to be a person of some education.
    â€œAre you a student?” she asked.
    He shook his head.
    â€œSo you’ve finished your studies?”
    â€œI was studying economics till I quit.”
    Diana looked at him as if to say, “But why?”
    â€œBefore it was too late, I realized I’d never improve my painting by listening to my economics professors.”
    â€œCouldn’t you work on your painting as well as continue with your studies?”
    â€œIt wasn’t that I didn’t have the time. The problem was that each new painting I finished made me feel that the previous one was better.”
    â€œBetter in what sense?”
    â€œWell, like every other artist, what I paint onto the canvas is what’s inside me. But with every passing day, I could see that my colors were fading. You could perhaps say that I had to leave school for the sake of my original colors.”
    Diana’s eyes showed her approval. “That’s quite brave, I must say.” She held out her hand to him. “I’m Diana.”
    The artist shook her hand but said nothing.
    He had done it again! He’d behaved as if he was indifferent to her. He had neither told her his name nor had the courtesy to say he was glad to meet her. It was pointless to continue an already overextended conversation with someone who couldn’t even be bothered to give his name. So, saying that she had an appointment to keep, Diana muttered good-bye and left.
    On her way home, however, her mind was preoccupied with what he had said about the colors fading. Just as the artist had once missed his original colors, Diana thought how much she missed her mother’s colors.

12
    W HEN D IANA HAD disappeared from view, the beggar waved to the artist. The day before, the artist had gone to him and asked questions about the beautiful girl whose fortune the beggar had told.
    The beggar had grinned, saying, “Hold it, son. What happens between me and my customers isn’t here to stay; it flies away. You go ask the little lady herself what you figure on knowing. She comes here soon. Tomorrow, she comes . . . But just look at you, asking an old fool like me for help. You are young, ar-tis-tic and you are nearly as good-looking as me. What do you need me to charm the little lady for?”
    The artist, a little embarrassed, had tried to defend himself. “I saw both of you looking at me, so naturally I wondered why.”
    â€œDon’t make me laugh, son. Those eyes, big as saucers, see her come down the road there; those big eyes fixing themselves on her, weren’t mine, eh? No need for fortune-telling. You wished to meet that little lady the minute you saw her. Do I tell a lie? If that’s a lie, let your gull shit on my poor old head!”
    Not knowing what to say, the artist had made some excuse and left. He’d realized it wouldn’t be easy to prize information out of the old beggar.
    Just a few minutes ago, however, when the beggar waved to him with a welcoming smile, the thought passed through his mind that perhaps the beggar had now decided to say something about Diana. The artist would try his luck again by visiting the beggar tonight.

13
    I N THE CENTER of the straw mat, the artist carefully placed