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She hated to admit that was precisely what she’d envisioned. “That’s unrealistic, isn’t it?”
“Wildly,” Luke stressed. “Think Colonial folk art, and you won’t be so badly disappointed.”
The kids were already streaming into the hall, and Catherine moved aside to allow Luke to pass through the open doorway with the heavy roll of paper. They hadn’t once discussed how they would present the project to the kids, but she trusted him to make it sound appealing.
He set the roll of paper against the wall and then asked for everyone’s attention. “I promise not to slow down the lunch line,” he began, “but we’re seriously considering painting a mural on a building owned by one of our neighbors. We’re hoping for angels to honor the center, but it’s your call as to how you portray them. We’ve plenty of white paper and colored pencils, so after you eat, try your hand at working up some preliminary sketches.”
“Is there a deadline?” a feminine voice called from the far side of the hall.
Luke turned toward Catherine. “How’s Friday?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” she assured him.
“Friday it will be, then. Are there any other questions?”
“Is there any money in this?” Rafael sauntered up to ask.
Luke shrugged. “It’s difficult to say. If you submit a spectacular design, for a single angel or the whole mural, then I just might be inspired to offer some prize money.”
“Might?” Rafael pressed.
“Yeah, I might,” Luke replied.
Tina Stassy wove her way through the crowd. “How are we supposed to know what angels look like?”
When Luke appeared perplexed, Catherine stepped forward. “They’d look like all of you. Have any of you ever watched figure skating on television? The skaters’ poses are so graceful they often appear to be flying. While that may be beyond our capabilities to achieve, I’d like for you to try.”
Dave had entered the hall in time to hear Luke’s remarks, and he pushed off the wall and came forward. “If I lift you, can you show everyone what you mean?”
“That’s not a good idea,” Luke cautioned under his breath.
“No, I’m serious,” Dave insisted. “I know exactly what Cathy means, and I think we ought to provide a quick demo.”
Several boys began to stomp and clap sending a chorus of encouragement echoing throughout the hall. When Mabel began to pound a spoon against a pot lid, Catherine couldn’t help but laugh.
“The skaters are moving, spinning, dancing across the ice,” she reminded Dave. “Their speed is part of the magic.”
Dave motioned with his hands. “I’ll turn. Come on, let’s feed their pitifully starved imaginations.”
Perhaps it was the bold graphics of his Rolling Stones T-shirt, but his proposition suddenly made perfect sense. Catherine laid her hand on his shoulder. Dave dipped slightly to grasp her knees and, seemingly without effort, raised her aloft. She arched her back, gazed up and lifted her arms in an elegant gesture that would have done an Olympic gold medalist proud.
Dave turned in a slow circle and then set Catherine down to thunderous applause. Slightly flustered, she took a quick bow. “It’s merely a suggestion. Many of you must have better ideas of how angels might return to heaven. Now isn’t it time for lunch?”
Luke had been right beside her moments before, but when she turned toward him, he was no longer there. Startled by his unexpected absence, she scanned the hall, but he’d simply disappeared as though he’d dropped through a trapdoor. Before she could make sense of that puzzling happenstance, Polly rushed up to her.
“That was so beautiful,” Polly gushed. “You make me wish I could ice skate.”
“I can’t skate either,” Catherine readily admitted. She tried to smile, but Luke’s abrupt departure had thoroughly dampened the exhilaration she’d felt in Dave’s arms. Clearly Luke had shown his disapproval of their stunt with his feet, and she couldn’t have been more insulted.
Polly, however, was staring up at her with an awestruck admiration, and she refused to be as rude as Luke had just been to her. “Do you like to draw?” she asked.
“I love it, but all I’ve ever been good at is flowers. My people don’t look much better than stick figures.”
Catherine took Polly’s elbow and urged her toward the lunch line. “I’m sure we’ll need decorative elements. Draw your best blossoms, and I’ll find a place for them.”
“Oh, thank you, I will.”
“Where’s Nick?” Catherine asked. She looked around but saw no sign of him either.
