"What's that?" she pretended not to know, even though of course she knew.

Tyler was bending over a piece of paper that was half blue and half green in color, coloring. A picture book was lying open to a particular half blue and half green page. There was a perfect yellow circle in a random location in the blue part of the paper. On Tyler's paper, there was a messy and big yellow squiggle on a random location in the blue part of the paper.

"What's what?" Tyler said softly.

Ana took another look at his paper and wanted to ask "What's everything?" But she didn't. She pointed at the yellow squiggle, after almost pointing at the many green zigzags that were against a lighter green background. "That," she said.

Tyler looked at his picture book. "The sun," he read out. On the picture in his picture book, there was a big heading in capital letters and black font: The Park. A small arrow pointed to the perfect yellow circle in the picture, and at the end of the arrow, there were the words in smaller, but still in capital, thick and black letters: the sun.

"It's not," Ana insisted.

"Is," Tyler insisted.

"It's not. Do you know what the sun is?"

"Yea…" Tyler began.

"Do you know how a sun looks like?"

"Yellow," Tyler said stubbornly.

"No, not yellow," Ana broke the news to him. "See for yourself." She walked towards the window and beckoned him. When Tyler came with a yellow crayon, which, she noticed for the first time, was too fat for his small fingers, she swept him up and perched him on the windowsill.

Tyler looked up at the bright white sky. Ana did, too, and squinted.

"Tyler, the sky isn't even blue today. And the sun… Do you see a very big star in the sky?" The sun was almost invisible, being the same color as the sky. Almost.

"Yes, a big star," Tyler replied. Ana turned and gazed at his face, while he gazed, with narrowed eyes, at the brightest spot in the sky which about ten rays of the same white light stretched out from. It was hard to spot any cloud in the white sky. "A white sky," she heard Tyler mutter to himself.

"All white," Ana agreed.

They both went back to the yellow desk with blue legs after Tyler complained that, "My eyes hurt."She turned around before white spots of light attackedher eyes.She stopped walking after the first two steps provedher unstable.Her head was pounding as if the white spots were heavy cannonballs, andher head was the net that caught them all. Allshe could see were the white spots…She squeezed my eyes harder, trying to see the darkness again, to make the white spots disappear. Then they did.Her headache cleared away as if the breeze that came in through the window pulled them away. And then she walked back to the desk slowly.

Before Tyler could even settle on his stool, he pushed his drawing aside. Ana reached below the table and pulled out a drawer, slid a piece of paper out, smoothened it on the table top and pushed it to Tyler's already fidgety fingers.

And then she taught him that, "Textbooks suck." Ana closed his picture book silently and put it on the floor.

We were ready for his art lesson. Even though I was paid only to make sure nothing happened to him while his parents were out, I was now his art teacher.

Okay, okay, so I was bored.

"Tyler? Can you draw another picture for me? The one you see outside the window?" Ana requested, not like a kindergarten teacher demanding he draw another circle or more dark green squiggles for homework, but more like a kindergarten teacher saying, "Now let's see you try drawing for the first time."

Tyler nodded. He pulled out a yellow crayon. And he started to rub the crayon gently on the paper and then, he pressed harder and created a few lines that started out thick and heavy and ended with a feathery tail. It was a significant difference from five minutes earlier. He stumbled out of his stool, holding the crayon like he would an ice cream cone, to have a good look at the window again. And Ana had a good look at the window through his paper. The yellow wasn't for the circle in the sky, but instead, it was for what in the picture book was just a green rectangle.

Tyler started adding the wind to his drawing. His yellow sticks of straw started to sway. He started to add light to his picture. There were a brighter yellow where the sun could reach and the further away from the sun's rays, the darker the yellow became. And he started to add more life. Dots of red were jabbed onto the yellow grass. Like the grass was bleeding each time he poked them with the sharp end of his crayon. Green, baby grass at the very bottom of the tall grass that was so old, they grayed into yellow.

"C'mon, let me see," Ana snatched the paper out of Tyler's hands.

She held it up, and tried to match it with the window.

The red then morphed into tiny carnations. What she thought was green, baby grass resembled the grasshoppers unmoving at the foot of each blade of grass.