Red as Radishes
A Christy Fanfiction
Art class was always a favorite of the children. The opportunity to use their imaginations was always a welcome one.
Their latest project hung from clothespins around our classroom. The assignment was to paint a portrait of someone in their family and I was amazed at the results.
Creed's decision to sketch Scallywag should have come as no surprise. The raccoon seemed to be winking up at me from the paper. Zady had drawn her mother and the likeness was remarkable- even capturing the unique blue grey of her eyes. Most would see Mountie's submission as childish scribbling but I could clearly see how she had distinguished each of her brothers from the others. My heart was full as I fingered each piece. They had come so far.
Because our mission resources were so few, I quickly learned to be inventive when it came to supplies. Paints and brushes could be so easily purchased in places like Asheville but back here in the mountains...the distance, the remoteness meant sometimes one had to be creative.
Thankfully, the women in Cutter Gap were masters of ingenuity and once I had been accepted into their circle, they gladly shared their knowledge with me. Because of them, I now had four jars of beautiful vibrant watercolor paint made from the pressings of everyday leaves, flowers or vegetables.
Sunflower yellow glowed out like sunshine. Blue and green were just as brilliant.
And bright red from radishes.
Radishes.
I had never been fond of the vegetable. I remember trying it for the first time as a little girl, my mouth puckering at the tart taste. I had thought the ruby colored root would be sweet...like the strawberries my mother bought to go with our cream at breakfast.
Father had laughed at my sour expression and quick swallow. It was one of the few times I wished I'd been born a boy so I could have spit the awful thing out instead of having the taste linger in my mouth.
Now, seeing their juice put into paint my mind brought up a picture of them washed and ready to eat. Their sharp crunch. Their bitterness on my tongue.
My mouth unexpectedly begins to water and I flush. It's silly to get so worked up! I can't recall getting a craving so ridiculous in my entire life.
When I step back in an attempt to shake off my thoughts, my boot heel encounters a lone radish. Obviously, in the frenzy of making paint, someone bumped my desk, causing the red vegetable to roll onto the floor.
I scrutinize it carefully.
It is a good size- one you could easily pop into your mouth (which is likely how most of my children would eat it). A hint of white peeks out from the top. I have to swallow again.
Against my good sense, I bring it up to my nose. I didn't normally find the scent of dirt appealing but this time, it just makes the temptation to eat it even worse. I lick my lips in anticipation, then feel my face flame. I am acting like a child awaiting the pleasure of an unexpected treat.
Reason finally reappears. I can't eat this one...or any others that I find. It takes a large number to make the small quantity of paint we have. I need to save what I can.
I plop the radish into an empty jar and hide it in one of the desk's drawers. Out of sight, out of mind. I won't give into the temptation.
I clear my throat and force my thoughts from fantasies of food to my lessons for tomorrow.
I concentrate so hard, I don't notice the figure leaning against the door of the school; the large, broad shouldered shadow of a very amused man. If I had been aware, I'm sure I would have heard his quiet, rumbling chuckle followed by the shuffle of his boots on the steps.
When I arrive at the schoolhouse the next morning, I feel I've conquered my ridiculous craving.
That is, until I see the small woven basket resting on my chair- filled to the top with bright, ruby red radishes.