Disney Fairies: Art Lessons by Bess

by Lara Bergen

  As the serving-talent fairies took the empty plates away after dinner. Scarlett and Bess rose from the table. “You must be tired after your first day,” Bess said.

  “I feel too excited to sleep.” Scarlett hugged herself. “It’s just so beautiful here! Why, look at these clover chains—that pale green is gorgeous!”

  With that, Scarlett grabbed the clover chain and picked it up. She probably only meant to encourage Bess to take a closer look. But when she pulled the clover chain, it snaked across the table. The chain tangled around the glasses and plates, pulling them from their places—toward the edge of the table until they fell.

  The glasses and dishes smashed to the floor, scattering into dozens of pieces.

  “Oh, no!” Scarlett cried.

  “It’s okay.” Scoop hurried over, ready to clean up. “People break glasses every so often.”

  Bess’ glow blushed as brightly as Scarlett’s red hair.

  Scarlett didn’t blush. She said to Scoop, “Are you sure you aren’t mad?”

  Scoop sighed, then smiled. “No, I’m not. It’s sort of funny, now that I think about it.” He laughed, and Scarlett did too.

  Some fairies had already left the dining hall, but many remained and had seen the whole thing. Bess could hear the whispers:

  “The new one certainly is awkward!”

  “Poor thing.”

  “I wouldn’t want her near anything I was working on.”

  Bess put her arm around Scarlett’s shoulders. “First thing tomorrow, you should come to my studio,” Bess said loudly. “We’ll see if you have a feel for painting.”

  “That sounds great.” Scarlett looked perfectly happy. Bess smiled uncomfortably, trying to remember all the fragile things in her studio she’d need to hide away before tomorrow.

  BESS GLANCED AROUND her tangerine-crate studio. As usual, it was quite untidy. Paints and brushes lay everywhere. Stray canvases were stacked in every corner.

  As soon as she tucked her last glass jar behind some old blankets, she heard a rap on the side of the crate. “Bess? Are you there?”

  “Hi, Scarlett. Welcome to my studio.”

  Scarlett came inside. Scarlett’s eyes lit up as she saw Bess’ red and gold abstract painting. “Did you do that? It’s beautiful. So emotional!”

  “That’s what I’m working on now.” Bess admitted, “Most people don’t like my abstract pictures.”

  “It reminds me of a rose,” Scarlett said. “I think it’s marvelous.”

  Bess smiled. The praise pleased her, and she now knew Scarlett had very good taste. Maybe she’ll turn out to be a painter after all! she thought.

  Scarlett asked, “Will we be working on that painting today?”

  “I thought we might try something different. Let’s stretch our canvases and get the paints,” Bess said. “We’ll have to be ready to begin before Fawn gets here.”

  As they stretched white canvas over frames, Scarlett said, “How will Fawn be helping us?”

  “Recently I’ve wanted to paint a portrait of a baby animal. So I asked Fawn to find a willing model. She’s an animal-talent. She should be here any moment.”

  “Baby animals are adorable,” Scarlett said, watching as Bess smeared several paints upon a palette. Then she began doing the same herself. “Oh, I hope I’m a painter!”

  As they finished preparing, Bess heard Fawn call, “Hello there!”

  “Fawn! We’ve been waiting for you!” Bess hurried to the door of her studio. “Who have you brought for us to paint?—Oh!”

  To Bess’ dismay, Fawn stood at the door with a baby skunk.

  “Here’s your model!” Fawn announced cheerfully.

  “Yes, but—a skunk? He won’t—” Bess pinched her nose with two fingers and waved her other hand in front of her!

  “Oh, no, he’ll be fine.,” Fawn insisted. “Skunks only spray when they’re frightened. You won’t scare him, will you?”

  “I think he’s lovely,” Scarlett said. “The contrast of black and white in his fur should look very striking in the painting.”

  That’s true, Bess thought. She smiled gently at the little skunk. The skunk scampered into the studio, ready to pose.

  “Look at him,” Fawn giggled. “He’s flattered!”

  The little skunk had fluffed his tail. He turned his head this way and that, trying to look more handsome.

  “Perfect,” Scarlett said. “Hold it just there! You look great.”

  The tiny skunk preened.

  Bess got to work right away. She sat at her easel, and Scarlett sat at hers, a few feet away. Fawn hovered several steps behind them, watching them work and keeping the baby skunk company.

  Soon Bess was too absorbed in her painting to notice what the others were doing.

  A few shadows here—maybe a little white there—Bess stuck the tip of her tongue out of her mouth, the way she often did when concentrating. Then hurriedly she pulled it back in. She didn’t want to appear silly in front of the others!

  “Scarlett?” Bess said, still looking at her own canvas. “How are you doing?”

  “Um.” Scarlett paused, then repeated, “Um.”

  Bess turned from her painting to look at Scarlett’s. Her heart sank.

  Although Bess’ painting was hardly more than a few lines on the canvas, the shape was clearly that of a skunk. Scarlett’s painting didn’t look like a skunk. It didn’t look like much of anything. All Scarlett could paint was a scribble. And not even a black and white scribble!

  Fawn flew a little closer and frowned. “Is that supposed to be a dragonfly? I can bring one here, if you want.”

  “That’s all right, Fawn. We’re fine,” Bess said quickly. She was worried about the disappointed look on Scarlett’s face. Thinking fast, she suggested, “Maybe you should try something abstract. Like the painting of mine you liked so much.”

  Scarlett brightened. “That’s a good idea. I can just—swirl the paint around.”

  Bess felt more hopeful as she turned back to her own work. The little skunk was still posing perfectly. She said to Fawn, “Tell your friend that he’s a wonderful model.”

  Fawn spoke to the skunk. What she said sounded like so much chirping and humming to Bess. The baby skunk brightened and arched his tail to look even prettier.

  Scarlett smiled

  The skunk’s face smiled back from Bess’s canvas. She still had much to do, but this was progress. Bess called, “How does yours look, Scarlett?”

  “I’m not sure,” Scarlett said weakly.

  Bess turned to see Scarlett’s canvas. She had smeared paint all over it, but it didn’t look anything like Bess’ abstract work. Instead, the painting looked like a big blur.

  Scarlett said, “I think I’m not a painter.”

  “You can’t be sure yet,” Bess insisted. “Let your feelings go. Express yourself! Go wild! Get lost in emotion!”

  “Okay.” Scarlett squeezed a large blob of yellow paint onto her palette. She took a deep breath as she scooped it up in her fingers. “Emotion. Wild. Right—now!”

  Scarlett threw the yellow paint toward the canvas. It spattered brightly.

  “Well,” Fawn said, “I guess that looks cheerful.”

  “Cheerful!” Scarlett bounced up and down, getting excited. “So now some—blue!”

  Blue paint went splat onto the canvas. This, too, looked cheerful—but it clashed with the yellow, in Bess’ opinion.

  Scarlett frowned. She’d seen it too. “I need something to tie the colors together, don’t I? What about—green?”

  “It’s worth a try,” Bess said.

  Quickly Scarlett grabbed a tube of green and squeezed a huge goop of it into her hand. She swirled her hand around and closed her eyes, muttering, “Be wild. Wild. Wild!”

  Without opening her eyes, Scarlett threw the green paint as hard as she could.

  Except that she missed the canvas.

  Bess gasped as paint splattered all over the baby skunk. The skunk, startled,
lifted his tail and—

  “Oh, no!” all three fairies cried as skunk-stink filled the studio. Bess and Scarlett ran outside for fresh air, coughing. Fawn remained inside to calm the little skunk.

  “Is he okay?” Scarlett cried to Fawn. “I didn’t mean to scare him!”

  “He’ll be fine,” Fawn said. Through the window, Bess could see Fawn petting the skunk’s head. “He’s mostly embarrassed.”

  Bess sighed. “Don’t feel bad, Scarlett. That could have happened to anyone.”

  “At least we know one thing,” Scarlett said. “We know I’m not a painter.”

  AFTER FAWN HAD taken the baby skunk back home, Bess and Scarlett hovered outside the studio, unsure what to do. The entire tangerine create stank of skunk.

  “What will I tell everyone?” Bess said. The other fairies were sure to think this was ridiculous.

  Scarlett said, “Tell them the truth, of course—that I frightened the skunk. I’d fly backwards if I could, Bess. I know this leaves you without a place to work.”

  “That’s all right,” Bess said. She felt like she could use a couple of days to recover. “I just wish I knew when I could use my studio again.”

  “Only a couple of days,” cried a voice from overhead, “if you let me help you!”

  Bess and Scarlett looked up. Above them, Lily hovered in the air, holding a tomato so plump her arms could hardly fit around it. “Why do you have a tomato?” Bess said in surprise.

  “The best way to remove skunk-stink is with tomato juice.” Lily nodded firmly. “Trust me. This is exactly what your studio needs.”

  Scarlett smiled in delight. “Really? How does it work?”

  Lily explained, “We’re going to squash tomatoes in Bess’ studio. We’ll make a big mess, but the juice will take the smell away. Then Rani has promised to rinse everything clean with some water charms.”

  “It’s that simple?” Bess felt relieved. “Are you sure you both have time to help?”

  “It’s the least I can do, after frightening the skunk,” Scarlett said.

  Lily giggled. “I’m glad to help, but really, I just think squashing tomatoes is fun. Watch!”

  With that, Lily flew to the door of Bess’ studio, dropped the tomato at the open doorway and jumped down upon it. Brilliant red juice sprayed in every direction—and all over Lily.

  Everyone began to laugh. Lily looked so silly, with tomato juice dripping from her hair and her nose.

  Oh, dear—will I look like that, too? Bess didn’t like looking ridiculous in front of her friends. Yet she realized that already the smell wasn’t so bad. It was going to work!

  If it would make her studio usable again, Bess was willing to do anything, even look silly.

  For the next couple of hours, Bess, Lily and Scarlett worked together. They would fly to Lily’s garden to gather tomatoes, then back to the tangerine-crate studio. Each fairy would put a tomato on the floor, fly up to the ceiling, and then—SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

  They squashed each tomato, flying downward in belly-flops and swan dives.

  The smell improved bit by bit.

  Scarlett and Lily seemed to be having the time of their lives. Neither one paid any attention to the red juice and pulp all over their clothes and skin. Bess couldn’t relax, knowing that she was the messiest she’d ever been in her life. But she kept working hard.

  After they’d squashed the last tomato, Scarlett said, “Is that it?” She sounded disappointed that the fun ever had to stop.

  “Afraid so,” Lily said. “You’ll want to let the studio air out for the rest of the day, Bess.”

  “That’s okay,” Bess said. “I’m just glad it will be all right.”

  “There must be so many interesting uses for the plants in your garden, Lily.”

  Scarlett looked thoughtful. “Tomatoes get rid of skunk-stink. Who would have guessed? What else can you tell me?”

  Lily’s eyes lit up. Bess knew that Lily didn’t talk much—but when she began chatting about her garden, she could go on for a while.

  Quickly Bess said, “I’m going to go clean up, if that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s fine,” Lily said, taking Scarlett’s hand. “The two of us have plenty to talk about.”

  Bess flew to a nearby stream to wash up. She didn’t want everyone in Pixie Hollow to see her while she was stained tomato red from head to toe. It took her a long time and a lot of scrubbing before she felt presentable again.

  By the time she returned to her studio, Lily and Scarlett had left.

  Now, where might Scarlett have gone? Bess wondered. She could simply have gone back to her own room in the Home Tree. But that didn’t seem much like Scarlett. She would rather be out exploring.

  Bess decided to visit the other art-talent fairies. Chances were that Scarlett would be with one of them.

  Once her wings were dry, she flew to Quill’s sculpture studio, and realized she was right. Through the window she saw Quill and Scarlett sitting together.

  “Hello!” Bess called. “Scarlett, I was looking for you! You wandered off!”

  Scarlett held a hand to her forehead, as if in distress. “I’m surprised you want to see me after what I did. Ruining your studio!”

  Bess could tell that Scarlett was joking, but Quill couldn’t. Like many art-talent fairies who specialized in sculpture, Quill could be stubborn as a rock sometimes.

  “I told Scarlett that wasn’t her fault!” Quill said to Bess. Her eyes flashed as she looked at Bess.

  Bess smiled, hoping to set Quill at ease. “Scarlett’s just joking. Lily knew how to clean the scent out. In a couple of days, my studio will be as good as new.”

  Scarlett brightened. “Oh, good!”

  Reassured, Quill settled back into the conversation. “Scarlett and I were just talking about my mermaid statue.”

  Sitting in the corner was the mermaid. Quill had carved it last year, and every fairy in Pixie Hollow agreed it was her greatest statue yet. The limestone mermaid seemed to be leaping from the water. Quill had etched every curl of her hair and every scale of her tail.

  “Tell her what you said, Scarlett,” Quill whispered.

  Scarlett pointed at the mermaid’s arched tail. “See how her fins curve? The statue really seems to move.”

  Once again, Bess was impressed. Scarlett certainly had artistic instincts, even if she couldn’t paint!

  Quill said, “She sounds like a sculptor to me.”

  “Could be.” Bess nodded.

  “I know just the thing!” Quill ran to her supply cupboard. From inside she pulled out a large block of marble the color of a soft pink rose. “This marble is very special,” she said. “The mining-talent fairies brought it to me just last week. There’s not a single flaw in the stone.”

  “Look how the surface shines,” Scarlett said. “You would hardly have to polish the statue when you were done.”

  Proudly, Quill held out her chisel and mallet. “Scarlett, I want you to carve the stone.”

  Scarlett gasped. “Are you sure? Don’t you want this for yourself?”

  “I want to see what you can do,” Quill said firmly. Bess nodded.

  Slowly, Scarlett took the chisel and mallet. Bess took Quill’s hand in anticipation.

  “I’m trying to see a shape in the stone,” Scarlett said.

  “Good!” Quill said.

  “A rose, maybe. Or a tulip.” Scarlett closed her eyes, as if she were looking for the shape in her mind, instead of the stone.

  “You’ll see it once you start,” Bess said. “Go on, Scarlett, try it!”

  Scarlett put the chisel at the very top of the pink marble and took a deep breath. “Here goes,” she whispered. Then she brought the mallet down hard.

  A jagged line split the entire block of marble in two! Bess and Quill stared, horrified, as each half of the block tumbled off its pedestal onto the floor.

  Quill made a face that would’ve been funny if Bess hadn’t been so embarrassed for Scarlett.


  “Oh, no!” Scarlett cried. “I’ve ruined your marble!”

  “You haven’t ruined it,” Quill said quickly. She kneeled to scoop the fallen half into her arms. “Now I can make two smaller statues instead of only one.”

  Scarlett sighed. “Still, I did everything wrong again. I must not be a sculptor, either.”

  Bess patted Scarlett’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll find an answer soon.”

  Deep down, however, Bess was starting to wonder if they would ever figure out what Scarlett could do right.

  “MAYBE YOU SHOULD take a break for a while,” Bess said as she and Scarlett left Quill’s studio. “You’ve had quite a day.”

  Scarlett said, “Really, I’d rather keep trying. I want to learn what my talent might be.”

  They both zoomed into the sky. From above, both Bess and Scarlett could see Pixie Hollow as the busy, magical place that it was. In a small brook, Rani the water-talent fairy swam in the current. She was the only fairy who could swim, as she had no wings to weigh her down. Overhead, Fira the light-talent fairy taught a group of fireflies a new flight formation.

  A group of cooking-talent fairies flew nearby carrying fruits and vegetables from Lily’s garden. Bess could hear one of them asking another, “Where did all the tomatoes go?”

  She turned to share the joke with Scarlett. But Scarlett’s face was sad.

  “Scarlett?” Bess nudged Scarlett toward a nearby maple tree. They perched on the edge of a branch amid the wide green leaves. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s just hard to see everyone so busy,” Scarlett said. “Each fairy and sparrow man in Pixie Hollow has a talent. They work all day doing what they love. I want that, too.”

  This was the first time Bess had seen Scarlett being anything less than cheerful. No, it wouldn’t do any good to ask Scarlett to rest. They had to keep searching until they found the kind of art Scarlett could create.

  She realized that they weren’t far from Aidan’s workshop. That gave Bess an idea. “Tell me, Scarlett—do you like jewelry?”

  “I think so,” Scarlett said. She was twisting a brand-new twig in her hair.