Lillian lugged a foam vase down a wooden staircase, past a washing and drying machine, and through a splintered doorway into a dark room. She reached through shadows, felt a beaded string, and yanked it. Suddenly, a bulb above illuminated, and she heaved the vase to a paint-chipped desk and plopped it atop. Behind the desk, she pulled out its chair, saw a hairy brown spider on the seat, and gasped.
“Jiminy Cricket!” she said. “I all but sat on you!”
She tipped the chair on its side, brushed the spider onto the floor, stood the chair up, and sat. “Now, where did I put them?” she said, gazing at the drawers. She slid a drawer open. “Pencils.” And then another. “Paper.” And then another. “Ah, here we are!” She lifted a thin metal box out and set it beside the vase and opened it. Various-color paint lined the box, and in the middle, three brushes. She turned the vase about. “Yellow,” she said. “Yes—yellow with purple and blue flowers.”
Suddenly, footsteps clunked down the staircase, and before long, her sister—who carried a basket which brimmed with clothes—darted past the doorway. A moment later, the washing machine started, and soon after, footsteps trekked past the door to the staircase and then back to the door.
“Does mom know you’re down here in the unfinished room?” a voice said.
Lillian glanced at the doorway and saw her sister leaning in. “She didn’t say I couldn’t.”
“Okay, your business. Just wondered whether or not she knew where she’d start her search for you once whatever’s in here snatches you up.”
Lillian sighed. “Nothing’s in here, Kurstin.”
“What about that spider bite on your leg?”
“That’s what happens when you don’t clear each spider out a chair before you sit.”
“Why even deal with them? This morning, it’s sunny out. You should paint on the porch. Mom’s still asleep, but so long as you put newspaper down, she won’t mind.”
Lillian shook her head. “The same way you feel toward spiders I feel toward mosquitoes.” She shuddered.
Kurstin shrugged. “Okay, suit yourself. But at least find a way to put more light in here. Not certain how anyone can paint in amid such shadows.”
“Use as many light colors as possible.”
Kurstin chuckled and then dashed up the staircase, and Lillian slid the vase closer.
“Now,” she said. “Where were we?”