The little boy beside her nodded in agreement. His right arm was amputated below the elbow.
“You’s just gots ta practice. I colwer with this hand now,” lifting his left hand, “Not my odder no more.”
Randi blinked rapidly, something inside her shifting.
She looked at them.
Really looked. She wanted to squeeze him and suck his cheeks rosy red.
And for the first time in days — she felt the weight of loss, fear, self-pity ease a little. That little mattered. Considerably.
She smiled, softer this time. Real.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I will.”
They beamed at her like she’d just promised something important.
And maybe she had.
An hour later, Elena entered and silently watched the interaction, her eyes swelling overthe interaction she was witnessing between Randi and the children. They were encouraging her, creating cracks in the wall of fear and indignation she had built around herself.
When Randi finally realized that Elena was standing there, the smile she offered wasn’t forced or empty, it was genuine and beautiful.
Elena stepped in and the children reacted to her presence, knowing that their time spent with Randi was coming to an end.
“Stay. Pweeze stay. Can she stay wit us?” Their little voices begged unanimously.
Elena closed the space between them to help Randi rise.
“I promise I’ll be back tomorrow,” Randi replied, as she slowly stepped away from the table. “Thank you for helping me.”
The children waved happily, their gleeful words of farewell filling the air.
Elena guided her back into the hallway.
“You did good,” she said quietly.
Randi glanced back once more.
At the children.
At the color.
At the life inside that room.
“I want to come back,” she said.
And this time - it didn’t sound like defeat. It sounded like the beginning of something wonderful starting anew, a possibility of becoming whole again – of becoming Randi.
Miles away, beneath high ceilings and quiet reverence, Brew Clay stood still for an entirely different reason.
The Walker Art Center, at first glance, was an iconic building characterized by a white, geometric gallery in the main entry filled with sculptures and distinctive- textured metal facade that expanded the length of the building.
When he entered, he noticed there were multiple levels of galleries also available to separate the art forms and showcase modern and contemporary paintings, photographs, and other sculptures. Because it was his first visit, Brew sought assistance in locating Randi’s solo exhibit.
It was quieter inside than he expected. It wasn’t empty. There were plenty of people moving about even for midday. It was hushed. Visitors stopped, studied, praised, shared reactions in quiet tones, with reverence.
It was as if the space itself understood the weight of what it held in admiration.
