Paint the Town Dead Read Free

Café and Inn on the Square, so I knew the drill. “Just enter the code Lorna e-mailed you at the alley door and go up the stairs. A small jog to the left, and you’ll be in the hall. Your name will be on the door of your room and the key will be inside.”
    â€œGood to know, thanks. I’d better help unload.”
    I followed, and took the handle of one rolling bin while Jasmine took the second one. Zach carried the large box of gourds. The box was awkward, but not heavy, Doralee said.
    â€œEven a box of large gourds is fairly lightweight.”
    Sherry had told me Doralee Gordon was fifty-five, but her chin-length golden brown hair and her cheerful smile made her look younger. Zach was probably in his early to mid-fifties, too. Trim and handsome, he dressed as country-casual as Doralee, and had kind hazel eyes almost the same color as hers. As he helped us arrange class materials on the tables, he worked quietly, but was quick to smile. He exuded a Zen-like calm that balanced Doralee’s high-energy chatter.
    When all the bottles of paint, the brushes, and handouts were set on the tables, Doralee greeted not only Sherry and the gang, but also the students as they came in. We’d made stick-on name tags printed in large block letters so the students wouldn’t be anonymous faces. Doralee took advantage of our efforts and began to call people by name.
    The class filed into the workroom, friends chatting witheach other. I’d been a bit surprised when Maise, Sherry, and Fred had opted to take the class. I hadn’t wanted them to pay at all, but when they protested the freebie, I insisted on giving them a discount rate. I was curious and a bit concerned about Sherry wanting to learn gourd art. She’d always crafted baskets. Perhaps she wanted to branch out or away from her basket weaving due to the macular degeneration, but I hadn’t asked for her reasons. I did notice she’d let her hair fall over her left eye, and with her bangs blocking that eye, she could focus better using her right one.
    Sherry, Maise, and Jasmine shared the table closest to the refreshments so they could hostess at the break. Ida Bollings also shared their table, taking a seat at the far end where she could park her new walker out of the way. Fred’s walker was next to Ida’s, and he sat beside her on the tractor-seat stool he’d brought from his old workshop at the farmhouse.
    At Sherry’s request, I introduced Doralee, and then stood in the back ready to assist if needed. Zach took an empty spot at the far table, but we still had room for four walk-ins. Not that I figured anyone else would come this late, but I shrugged that aside and snapped a few pictures to post on our in-the-works website pages.
    â€œWelcome, everyone,” Doralee began. “First, my thanks to Sherry and Aster for inviting me to teach you about gourd art, and to Nixy for her lovely introduction. Second, thank you for being here this evening. I hope you’ll enjoy the class. Now, if you have questions as I go along, just holler. Let’s begin with a quick history about the use of hard shell gourds.”
    And off she went, telling the class about the different kinds of gourds, how she came to work with them, and the ways to craft with gourds. She then passed around samples of her various gourd art, from simple birdhouses, to gourds with designs etched using a woodburning tool, to beautifully painted gourds. She said gourds had been called nature’s pottery, and I could see why.
    â€œWhy is a thick gourd better?” Sherry asked.
    â€œThey’re more durable, and easier to work with, too. The longer the growing season, and the drier the gourds are before they’re cut from the vine, the better.”
    â€œWhere do you get your gourds?” a lady in front asked.
    â€œThere are farms around the country you can order from, Ann. I get mine from an organic farm in California.”
    â€œIs it