A Lone Tree Below Mt. Whitney by Kathleen Frank
Originally published in the January 29, 2021 online edition of Everyday Fiction.
Sunshine Pie
“It’s left foot forward and two steps back.”
Cecily looks at her feet. She’s six and a half – seven next Wednesday.
Leo says you have to know your left from your right by the time you’re seven or you’ll never
get it, not ever, so she has four days to get it just right.
They’re making up a dance on the pavement outside Alice’s house. It’s summer. Hot. And All
four of them are there for the last time before Leo moves away – Nora, with bushfire hair and
freckles all over. Leo, short for his age with eyes the same colour as this August sky, Alice,
and Cecily.
Across the street Mrs Gilmore makes sunshine pie.
She’s known for it.
Makes it every Sunday, brings it out in coloured melamine bowls with spoons and gives it to
the children right out of the oven.
She’s in the kitchen window – you can see her from across the street. She’s smiling whilst she
dollops stiff peaks of glossy meringue onto lemon curd, and from somewhere behind her in
the house there is the murmur of an old jazz song.
“My mum says she wears that scarf ‘cause her hairs falling out.”
Alice said, sucking a red lollipop hard so it pops when it comes out of her mouth. She has her
hair in two blonde pigtails and she’s put every clip she could find in her hair that makes her
head look shiny like she’s wearing a metal cap, so you can’t look right at her in the sun or
your eyes will get burned right up from the glare.
“Why’s her hair falling out?”
Cecily asks, squinting against a bright blue sky.
“I guess because she forgot to brush it.” Nora shrugs and Cecily pulls a face like a letterbox.
Later, Cecily takes her brush out from where she had wrapped it in a t shirt and stuffed it in a
drawer.
About the author:
Natascha Graham is a lesbian writer, poet and artist from Suffolk, England, with work previously published in Acumen, Litro and Flash Fiction Magazine.
In the artist’s words:
Kathleen Frank. Having been an art teacher, woodcarver and a printmaker in my formative years, I emerged as a painter, joyously overwhelmed by color and searching for pattern. Color and pattern are everywhere, but the seeing and interpretation of them are different for each of us. Pattern in nature is primal to me – which fuels my desire to find a glimmer of logic in vastly complicated, confusing and tumbled landscapes. I do also seek out the vibrant hues in landscapes. My oil paintings begin with a saturated red orange backdrop. This is overlaid with the main imagery, applied with distinct brushstrokes of brilliant color. Hints of the red background peek through like a woodcut, creating subtle impact without drawing attention away from the primary subjects. Several times a year I travel throughout the Southwest, hiking and photographing vistas for future paintings. The goal is to catch the light and design in these scenes in all its strangeness and beauty. It is a lofty goal, but I find when the quest is shepherded with paint and brush it is a delightfully daunting adventure.
Santa Fe artist Kathleen Frank paints the Western landscape in vibrant hues, capturing light and pattern in complex terrains. Career highlights include: numerous museum and gallery exhibitions; High Desert Museum Curator’s Choice Award; Art in Embassies/U.S. State Department selection Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia; work in permanent collections; and features in numerous fine art publications.