Illuminations

by T. Kingfisher

“Well,” said Uncle Alfonso, dabbing more paint on his brush. “It’s hard to change people’s moods, as I said. Too close to changing minds, and that’s forbidden.”

“Because,” said Grandmama dryly, “if you ask two Mandolinis how to do something, you will get five different answers.”

Time doesn’t work like that. You go forwards not back.”

I’m only a painted crow. I’m not quite as clever as the real thing.”

“Right, okay, but what does the essence of wickedness look like?” “Like a little brown carrot with legs,” said Payne. “And a disagreeable expression.”

“If Rosalita says she didn’t do it, I believe her,” said Uncle Alfonso mildly. Grandmama made an annoyed sound. “They didn’t draw themselves!” “Things do, sometimes,” said Uncle Alfonso. “The world is a strange place.”

Aunt Nadia often got a little weird when she was working on a painting, as if most of her brain was involved with art, and the bits that controlled talking were wandering around unsupervised.

She grunted. “That was an excellent grunt. You would make a very good little old man with a grunt like that.”

“Payne,” she said, “this is Serena.” “Caw?” said Payne. “Don’t play dumb. I told her about you.”

barely cook in this mess and I won’t serve someone a meal with mouse droppings in it!” “Certainly not,” muttered Aunt Nadia, from her bay. “Mouse droppings are for family only.”

“Of course it matters,” said Aunt Nadia with a half-smile. “You’d hate to see the studio destroyed by a mediocre artist, wouldn’t you?”

“I refuse to die until I’ve had coffee,” said Aunt Nadia. “I won’t do it.”

After a minute, Grandmama whacked him on the shoulder with her ladle. “You don’t need to shade every scale!” she said. “This is not the time for perfectionism!”

No. No, that was the wrong thing to say. You didn’t order your art to do something, you asked it. Sometimes you begged. And sometimes it didn’t work, but when it did, if you were lucky, there was that transcendent moment when everything flowed and you couldn’t put a brushstroke wrong, and all the Studio Mandolini was with Rosa and she reached out and whispered, “Please.”

She was not quite sure who she was, but she found that she very much wanted to be the Rosa that she saw in her family’s minds. That person seemed like a very good person to be.