Paint: Melinda March and the Alizarin City

By Toni Marie Kapper

Melinda March is eleven years old when she arrives at Andersen Manor, her familys timeworn estate. The Andersens are an entire family of artistscolorful, inventive, and a bit odd. Her aunt Lizzy would mentor her for the summer as the latest and greatest up-and-coming artist in a long line of a family of artists. Her summer takes a magical turn when she finds an old painting that comes to life, transporting her to Arcadiana world beyond the paint. She finds a long-lost boy from the Andersens past and meets the people of Alizarin City, where she learns her gifts as a talented artist go far beyond the natural world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543440942

Book preview

1

Melinda March was eleven years old when she found herself on the steps of Andersen Manor with a suitcase in hand. School was out, and she would spend the entire summer with her aunt Lizzy and uncle Albert at their family’s country estate. Her mother, Kate Andersen, a prominent sculpture and painter, was taking her collection of modern sculptures on tour across the country for three months with her father, Maxwell March. It wasn’t the first time her parents traveled without her. However, it would be the first time she would be spending any length of time alone with her aunt and uncle at Andersen Manor.

Melinda, like her mother, was also a talented artist in her own right, as was most of the Andersen clan. She had received recognition for her first oil painting in many young arts programs. She was best known for her Enchanted Pond. The reflection of the trees in the black water, the white dew on the grass, and the small hints of bright pink flowers on lily pads created a soft, whimsical flair to the piece—a common theme to most of her paintings and sketches.

Melinda’s aunt Lizzy was just as talented an artist or even more so than her mother, though she did not seek the attention or monetary rewards of being a gifted artist. But she preferred a quiet life tending to the needs of the aging estate. Her mom had entrusted her older sister with Melinda’s well-being and to be her mentor her as the latest and greatest generation of Andersen artists.

The Andersens were an entire family of artists—colorful, inventive, and a bit odd. Melinda recalls one family weekend hosted by her aunt Lizzy; she called it the Milky Way Extravaganza. She had become obsessed with the universe and being that one family member that couldn’t help but involve the entire family. Her event was a delightfully memorable occasion; each family member had contributed a craft, activity, or food that marveled around our universe or, in Uncle Albert’s case, actual milk. His marvelous junkyard creation took center stage as an obstacle course made entirely of junk with slides, ropes, and ladders traversing a minipond of milk with a chocolate chip cookie finish. His artistic style was edgy industrial meets bright and whimsical. Although technically not an Andersen, he had grown up on the property next door. It was certain though that like the Andersens, he had the same zany kind of style.

Andersen Manor was a large property. The long gravel road lined with maple trees on each side created a grand entrance. The house itself was proclaimed to be at least two hundred years old. The three-story yellow brick home had lost its luster over the years, although many of its fine architectural features, such as the ornate stained glass windows and wrought iron appointments undoubtedly made by some Andersen in the past, still gave the manor a sense of grandeur. The grounds were terribly overgrown and, like most things Andersen, in some state of disrepair. It was easy to conclude that at one time, it must have been a grand estate with woods, a vineyard, and a small lake. Melinda had been here many times with her parents for holidays and family reunions.

Today the manor was quiet and empty, not nearly as welcoming as the family gatherings she had fond memories of. Aunt Lizzy escorted Melinda into the grand foyer.

Albert? Having expected him to be there to greet them, she frowned with disappointment.

Will we have family visiting over the summer? Melinda asked, her hopeful tone not going unnoticed.

Oh, yes. When your mother comes to get you the first week of August, the whole family will be here. We will plan something spectacular. Lizzy smiled brightly, her voice reaching at least an octave higher.

Melinda smiled back, but she really didn’t feel any better. It was going to be a long summer with just her aunt and uncle. It was June, and August was months away.

Aunt Lizzy and Uncle Albert were an odd couple. Lizzy, a tall, slender woman, was always cheerful and spoke with a melodious voice that sounded like she would burst into song at any moment. She wore colorful dresses with an apron to protect her clothing from her latest project. However, since every article of clothing she owned had spatters of paint on them somewhere, Melinda really didn’t see the point. Lizzy painted nearly every day. Her fantasy landscapes were very popular at local art fairs. They depicted deep woods with thick foliage adorned with small colorful flowers and bright-red mushrooms. Every time you gazed into one of her paintings, there would be some little detail you had missed—a woodland creature or an interesting object hiding in the deep foliage.

Lizzy brought Melinda to the central staircase that led to the upper floors. As it wound upward, its ornate wood carvings made it a focal point as you entered the house. The second floor of the manor was filled with guest bedrooms, each with a different theme. There were rooms with murals of wispy white clouds from floor to ceiling and some with seascapes or with palm trees and bright orange birds of paradise. They went past the caveman room. This was Melinda’s favorite. She had never been allowed to stay in. The walls of this room were sculpted, with round, smooth edges painted like granite; a stone fireplace; and a bed piled high with furs.

Melinda tugged on Lizzy’s arm. Can I stay in this one?

This will not do for a budding artist, Lizzy exclaimed in a terribly fake French accent. You need inspiration! Lizzy opened the door across the hall to the enchanted forest room.

Melinda smiled and uttered a sarcastic Great! It was just as she figured; her aunt still thought she was three.

Lizzy smiled in return and put Melinda’s suitcase on the bed, giving her instructions on where she could put her things and to come down to kitchen once she was settled in.

The bathroom is down the hall. This is not a hotel, you know.

Melinda unpacked her suitcase, which contained just about every article of clothing she owned. She always came prepared, never knowing what you might need to wear at Andersen Manor. She chuckled to herself. Examining the room, she could see that this enchanted forest probably was not for three-year-olds. One wall was covered from floor to ceiling with a forest mural. Although there were brightly colored mushrooms and various types of flowers in every color of the rainbow, the forest itself was deep, dark, and a little scary. The image created the illusion that it went on for miles. It was hard to believe her aunt’s paintings could be in complete contrast to her light and bubbly personality.

Melinda changed out of her traveling clothes and put on denim shorts and her favorite long denim blouse that was just a tad too short to be worn comfortably as a dress. The light blue denim matched the blue in her eyes and went nicely with her long dark-brown hair. She always took the time to style her hair in clever twists and braids every morning, but it usually just ended up in a messy bun on top of head by the end of the day. Melinda made her way to the kitchen and found Lizzy busy with lunch. Uncle Albert was sitting at the kitchen table, tinkering with what looked like a bicycle seat.

Hey, kiddo, how was your trip? Albert gave Melinda a toothy grin.

It was long, boring, and no fun at all! She gave him a big hug then plopped down on a table chair.

After lunch, you have to come to the barn and help me finish my latest creation, he said like a character reminiscent of Dr. Frankenstein.

Oh, that sounds like fun, dear! Lizzy chimed in, trying to encourage Melinda to take part in manor life.

Uncle Albert was wiry short man with a red handlebar moustache. He wore round silver glasses and was a little nutty at times. Although technically not an Andersen, he had his own version of art that usually required a trip to the dump, a bucket of rust remover, and a blowtorch. His current project did seem particularly promising from his animated description of it. He waved his hands in a swirling motion above his head and made swishing sounds with his mouth to describe his design.

They ate Lizzy’s smorgasbord of little sandwiches and nicely arranged fruit slices that were piled high into the hollowed-out peel of an orange. Lizzy loved to reminisce of all the Andersens that had passed through the halls and made light conversation as they ate. She went one by one, giving details of her favorite ancestor. Grandpa Arthur Andersen, a wood carver, was well-known for his masterful depictions of animals in the wild. Although most of his carvings had been small, there was one life-size grizzly bear he had made that now ferociously guarded the main dining room entrance.

Melinda’s favorite had to be her great-aunt Permelia, a flamboyant clothing designer from the 1920s. There were many photographs throughout the manor with her wearing amazing gowns adorned with feathers and rhinestones. Lizzy promised that they would spend a day to get some of them out of storage. She went on and on, naming the numerous painters, sculptors, and craftsmen that had once lived in the walls of the estate. Old art left behind could be found in every nook and cranny of the house.

Uncle Albert and Melinda spent the remainder of the day in the old barn. This was just as big as the house and overflowing with all sorts of vintage items. There were several antique cars, piles and piles of old motorcycle parts, engines, crates, old furniture, and household items of every kind. Melinda found the barn to be quite entertaining with so many places to climb up to as she watched her uncle work on what seemed to be a small carousel. It was a spectacular display—junk cleverly put together to create a fully functioning carousel. The canopy of the carousel had overlapping hubcaps used like shingles. The center structure was an old barber pole that held up the top and was attached to an old metal merry-go-round at the bottom. This gave an excellent effect of twisting red-and-white lines swirling in an endless pattern as the carousel slowly turned.

Albert called up to Melinda. Come down and try this.

I’m a little old for that, don’t you think? Melinda replied.

The carousel was on the small side and looked like something little kids would love. Melinda had a firm belief that Lizzy and Albert, now in their late forties with no children and having no experience with kids her age, actually thought of her as a little girl with