Pretty Weird as a Picture

A new high school amature artist moves into her grandfather's town and changes everyone's view of each other by "looking into the soul through her paintings and bringing it out for all to see."

Setting:

Ryan and Kelsey walking through their ghost town of a neighborhood. Not a single child was insight for all were inside assumed to be on the computer blogging, playing video games in their room or family room or texting friends in random places in their house.

The middle of fall where summer legacies are nearly fading memories, like a sailboat into the upcoming mist, but not quite ready for the harsh wraths of winter. The enchantment of the vibrant colors of autumn leaves waltzing gracefully with the wind passed between the friends as they walked aimlessly on the sidewalk bored out of their minds.

                Ryan: (mimicking his mother’s voice) “Better make the most of these days while you still can. Have fun while you still can while the days are nice.” Doing what? There’s nothing to do outside!

                Kelsey: Dad would say the same to me. Talk about how “back in his day,” he and his friends would be out long after dark and their parents would force them inside. What did they do exactly?

                Ryan: Beats me.

The two continued to walk in the deserted streets in their housing area passed dogs who were outside chained to the tree in the front lawn or a post of various houses guarding their property. At the sight of the preteens the animals would set an alarm system of barking at the humans not to trespass their territory. Soon realizing that their warnings went unheeded, few of the canines secede their barking though others continued.

At the center of the neighborhood, a bit over an hour doing nothing productive it wasn’t even noon by the looks of the position of the sun.

                Ryan: (stretching his arm out in front of Kelsey to halt looking both ways before crossing the street.) Look over there Kels! Do you see that?

                Kelsey: Can you be more specific? I see a lot of things; I’m not blind you know.

                Ryan: Over there, at Old Man Blythe’s house.

                Kelsey: Wait, are those BOXES in his yard? What’s he having, a yard sale?

                Ryan: Does it look like I know?

                Kelsey: ‘Bout time he got rid of that junk. Bet you he’s a hoarder.

                Ryan: How would you know if he is?

                Kelsey: Uh, hel-lo! Old man doesn’t socialize much let alone leave his yard. Something has to keep him company; plus he’s old.

                Ryan: What? He’s not a woman.

                Kelsey: It is possible he has cats but I was talking about worthless antiques.

                Ryan: What kind of logic do you think with?

                Kelsey: Uh, the standard preteen American kind.

Ryan paused, then shook his head not even bothering to make sense of his friend. Letting curiosity get the better of them, the friends approaching Old man Blythe’s house as the old man help what appeared to be a teenage girl take boxes inside. Surprised to see the younger person walk in and out the house, it just made the preteens more curious to see what was happening.

                The teenage girl saw Ryan from coming out the house and waved with a Cheshire cat grin on her face. She ran through the yard and down the sidewalk to Ryan and Kelsey without hesitation and grabbed their hands dragging them to Mr. Blythe’s driveway.

                Teenage girl: (handing a box to Ryan from the black Volvo.) Y’all two look like ya need sum’in to do, so here! Help me move into grandpa’s.

                Kelsey: (reads as Ryan struggles to carry the box inside.) ’Quentin’s stuff’.  Look um, we didn’t really offer to he-

“Quentin”: Aw c’mon. It’s not that much now. Grandpa and I already got most of my things so you guys can help carry the last few. ‘preciate ya guys helpin me move in.”

                Ryan: (gasping for air walking into the house as Old Man Blythe walks out passed by) But we didn’t even volunteer!

                Old Man Bylthe: How nice of you two kids helping my granddaughter move in. Taking time out of your busy day to help a neighbor, that’s real thoughtful of you two.

                Kelsey: (murmurs grabbing a box from Quentin who runs ahead to open the door for her) Eh- sure Mr. Blythe.

 Inside Ryan is bending over gasping for air with the box setting on the floor in front of him

                “Quentin”: (running up the stairs) that goes to my room. Follow me!

 Ryan bending over to pick up the box.

                Kelsey: Bend at the knees

 Ryan who groans loudly struggling to pick up the box and follows the two girls. Setting the box down Kelsey takes a seat in the chair in front of the desk while Ryan huffs and puffs.

Ryan: Do you have any idea how heavy that box was?

Kelsey: Told you to bend at the knees.

Grandpa Blythe: (walks in with two small boxes.) That’s the last of it Quen.

“Quentin: (turns to hug both Kelsey and Ryan tight.) Thank ya guys so much! Hope ya like root beer ‘cause that’s what you’re getting! C’mom!

The teens walk down the stairs together to the kitchen as Quentin throws them a couple of Mug root beers out the white fridge.

Quentin: We all should hang out when I’m not busy unpacking! I’m Quentin by the way and thanks again!

The other two nodded opening their beverages to take long sips.

                Kelsey: (sitting her can gently on the counter) I’m Kelsey Burns and that’s Ryan Paladin over there. Those painting in your room, they looked a bit uh, pricy.

                Quentin: (laughing and holding her hand under her mouth careful not to spit out her drink) I wish! I painted them.

                Ryan: (mouth open dumbfound of what he heard and dark eyes of disbelief) You? Like as in PAINTED them?

                Quentin: Uh-huh. Art runs in the family a bit. Grandpa is more of a carpenter. (points to the table behind Ryan and Kelsey) Made that a few years back. He let me draw on it with sharpie at least.

The table had four chairs to go with it made of cedar. The image Quentin spoke about had a large male peacock on the surface of the table with feather designs on the legs. The chairs however were plain wooden furniture with no decoration at all.

                Quentin: Hopefully I can do sum’thin’ with the chairs though. They’re a freakin’ eye sore!

                Ryan: (finishing his can of soda) what kind of painting do you do?

                Quentin: I mostly paint portraits but a bit of scenery. Acrylics and water colors are my forte. Used oil like once or twice.

                Kelsey: (taking another small sip) I noticed. Who were those people you painted in your room?

                Quentin: (still smiling but a flash of sadness crossed her eyes) some people I used to live with.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was still bright like the sun outside also had that swift autumn chill. After a few long minutes of silence, Kelsey thought it was time she and Ryan departed from their hostess’s company.

                Kelsey: Well, we have to head home now, so we’ll see you around some time. Pleasure meeting you. Um, Quentin right?

                Quentin: Uh-huh! Thanks again for the help! I’ll see you out to the door.

Quentin led the way out the kitchen to the front door as Kelsey followed with her root beer still in her hand. Ryan quickly threw his trash in the can and followed also. Walking out the door, Quentin gave the younger two another tight hug and closed the door behind them. As Ryan and Kelsey walked down the drive way, Ryan couldn’t help but voice he observations to Kelsey.

                Ryan: Okay, that girl is weird.

                Kelsey: Funny first impression Ryan. She just needed help to move in. Usually you wouldn’t ask the first stranger you see but, whatever right?

Ryan: No, you wouldn’t! And did you notice what kind of girl she is? Where does she get that happiness fro-?

Kelsey: So you’re saying that a person can’t be carefree?

Ryan: Ye-actually no. She was just a bit too forward with people she doesn’t even know. But what I want to know is how was she even able to pick up that box without breaking her back?

Kelsey: (smirking) She’s stronger than you?

Ryan: (sarcastic and playfully pushing Kelsey to the side) you are hilarious.

Kelsey: But you have to admit she is pretty good painting.

Ryan: She actually painted those! Like painted them herself.

Kelsey: (sipping her root beer) well aren’t you impressed. They were just so realistic, it’s crazy.

Ryan: I know right? Some of those portraits were like staring into my soul. It was creepy!

Kelsey: It wasn’t that intense.

Ryan: I guess, but portraits are reflections and, wow. I’m telling you, that girl is weird.

Kelsey: (looking at Ryan skeptically) what’s so weird about an artist?

Ryan: Nothing really, it’s just it’s like there’s something off about them. They’re just weird.

Kelsey: (shrugging) if you say so.

 

Author's Note

This is a starter for my story. I'm just testing the water for the tree. I'm thinking of changing Ryan's and Kelsey's age to 14 while Quentin is 16 so it'll be easier for them to interact in school. This my first time trying to screen write so any feedback and especially dialogue is greatly appreciated.