Chapter 21 — The Portrait We Never Framed
Kwabena shifted again on the stool.
"Ei… how long is this one going to take?" he finally asked, breaking the soft silence.
Esi looked up from her sketchpad, slightly amused. "You're the one who wanted me to draw you oo. Now you're complaining?"
Kwabena chuckled. "No be complain, I just want to know what I've signed up for."
Esi stretched her fingers and sat back. "Okay. Since you asked…"
She held up the pencil. "First, I'm doing a rough outline — your shape, posture, proportions. That will take about 30 minutes to an hour. That's just the skeleton."
"Skeleton?" Kwabena echoed, teasing. "So you mean I look like bones to you?"
She laughed. "After that comes the detailed portrait — shading, expression, light. That one… can take 2 to 4 hours depending on how real I want it to look."
Kwabena blinked. "So I'll sit here till next week?"
"No," Esi said. "Tonight I'll just do the rough sketch. Tomorrow, I'll finish the details. And then… paint."
"Paint?" His eyes widened. "You have paint?"
"Not yet," she admitted. "But if you send the houseboy to town tomorrow, I'll write down the list. I need acrylic colors. Something rich. Real."
Kwabena nodded. "Say less. Done."
She paused. "But you'll really hang it?"
He smiled. "I said I would."
There was a beat.
Then her voice dropped lower. "I want this to be more than a drawing. I want you to see yourself through my eyes. And maybe… see me too."
He stared at her, surprised by the weight of those words.
She stood now, pacing slowly behind her sketchpad. "I draw because it's how I survive. It's how I escape without running away. I may be here… but when I'm sketching, I'm somewhere else. Somewhere freer."
Kwabena swallowed. "So… this portrait means a lot."
She looked at him, soft and strong all at once. "Yes."
He nodded slowly. "Then I won't move."
Esi grinned. "Don't blink too much either. You'll mess up your eyes."
He gave her a playful scowl, and she sat again — her pencil moving like it knew more than her mouth could ever say.
The room dimmed a little. The highlife tune faded into another slow, soulful beat.
From behind the sketchpad, Esi whispered to herself:
"Maybe if I draw him just right… he'll finally understand me."
And even though he was sitting just a few feet away
It felt like this was the closest they had ever been.