Art for Art's Sake: Meredith's Story (2 page)

She assessed what she had done last week with her brother’s mouth. She nodded in satisfaction. Yes, she had certainly captured the intensity on his face, especially in the way he pursed his lips, but she needed to move on to hair day. She liked to think of the hair as an extension of the face so she planned to draw in the general shape of the hair, paint in the first layer, use slightly different shades for shadow, and then add in a few lines for texture. She needed to capture the sunlight that came from behind his head, so later she would feather in the lighter colors of his dark brown hair. In real life, Mikey’s hair was unruly and she toyed with the idea of combing it for him in the portrait, but decided that, no, Mikey was Mikey, and the world was going to get him as his usual disheveled self. With that firmly decided, she went about selecting tubes from her box of paints and placed them near her palette.

“Ah,” Mrs. Levine said knowingly from behind her. “Hair day?”

Meredith smiled at her art teacher. “Yeah. I think I’ve got the right colors.”

“Looks like it.” Mrs. Levine nodded and smiled with her eyes. “Combed or wild?”

Meredith laughed. “I’m going for the natural look, so wild it is.”

“Go for it. Holler if you need me.” Mrs. Levine moved on to her next student. Although Thursdays and Fridays were free days, it didn’t mean you could goof off. Mrs. Levine always made sure everyone worked productively.

Meredith wished she could carry herself as confidently as her art teacher. Mrs. Levine wore her highlighted blond hair in a bun, but the old-fashioned hairstyle didn’t make Mrs. Levine look old, it just made her look professional or business-like. Meredith wished she could keep her hair up all the time, but that would be way too much exposure. Her art teacher’s forest green smock was spattered with various paint colors and Meredith wondered if the paint had come from student projects or from her teacher’s own artwork. Probably both.

Meredith pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked at the portrait of her brother. As she pencil-sketched his hair, she thought about him. She didn’t want to blame her troubles on him, but she couldn’t help it sometimes. With a brother like Mikey, she couldn’t help getting noticed too which was the last thing she wanted. She knew that most people, including her classmates, thought that if Mikey was the way he was, then maybe she had a touch of it, too.

Meredith squeezed out an inch of raw sienna onto her palette and then a half-inch of white. She mixed them together with her palette knife. Pleased with the results, she picked up her flat brush and dabbed it into her newly created color. She pushed up her glasses again and imagined the brush strokes she would use, sort of like a dress rehearsal. She took the plunge and used broad strokes to simulate his hair. She leaned back and nodded. Yes, the color was perfect. Too bad other aspects of her life weren’t so perfect.

Her parents decided to move from Greenspond, a small mountain town in the Catskill Mountains of central New York, to the sprawling suburbs of Albany a year and a half ago, just before Meredith entered the eleventh grade. If she had stayed in Greenspond, her graduating class could have fit into two minivans, but her parents felt that Mikey needed better opportunities for schooling so off to Albany they went.

She missed Greenspond terribly. She had friends there. Not that many, but at least she had a few and wasn’t the pariah there that she was at Whickett High School. At Whickett, she had absolutely no friends. Her classmates had not gone out of their way to welcome the new girl. In the beginning, Meredith tried desperately to shed her introverted nature. She worked up the courage to talk to some of the other kids in her classes, but after too many tear-filled nights, she gave up and locked herself away in the art room and stayed there. It was easier to be invisible.

Meredith slashed her brush across the canvas. She pulled the brush back in horror, her eyes focused wide on the painting. She breathed a sigh of relief. The portrait was okay. She couldn’t believe that here, in her sanctuary, she had let those Whickett jerks intrude. Ben, Dani, and all those others, they could fall into the polluted Hudson River for all she cared. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held it for a moment.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Mrs. Levine was on her second trip around the room.

Meredith felt her face flush. “Oh, sorry. I just let the world intrude for a second.”

“That happens to me, too, sometimes. Just breathe and let it go.” She looked over Meredith’s painting for a moment and then continued, “Since you’re taking a break anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the Senior Art Elective class second semester. Now, I know you probably don’t need the credits to graduate, but I thought if you had room in your schedule sixth period you could take the course.”

“Really?” Meredith was overjoyed. She didn’t know she could take a second art course. “Yes, yes! A thousand times, yes. I have a study hall during sixth period now.” Wow. Two periods of art out of eight. The day had just improved tenfold.

“I know you have extra responsibilities at home,” her teacher gestured at the portrait in progress, “so I figured you could use the extra time to work on your AP portfolio. Of course, I’ll require some kind of project from you for the elective course. Probably something to exhibit for Whickett Days in May.”

“We went to Whickett Days last year. That was a lot of fun.”

“I know. It’s small town stuff, but the Whickett townspeople love to celebrate their history.” She smiled. “Okay, Meredith, I’ll put your name on my list and hand it in today.” Mrs. Levine turned to walk away, but then looked back. “I thought you might jump at the chance.”

Meredith smiled. Now she was in the right frame of mind to work on Mikey’s bad hair day. Once she was satisfied with the first go-around with Mikey’s hair, she put the still-wet painting carefully in the rack, stored her supplies, and retrieved her book bag. When the bell rang to end the school day, she headed for her locker before picking up Mikey at his sixth grade classroom in the middle school. Students jostled for position in the crowded hallways, but thankfully, no one noticed her and she changed out her books easily. Meredith closed her locker just as Dani Lassiter opened hers. The senior lockers were randomly placed around the school and for some reason Meredith’s locker was just three away from Dani’s.

“Hey, Meredith.” Dani stepped in front of her.

Meredith’s stomach knotted. Now what?

Dani said, “I’m sorry about Ben today. He’s got a few marbles loose.” She twirled a finger in a circle near her ear.

Why is she even talking to me?
Practically no one spoke to her unless it was absolutely necessary. Meredith kept her guard up. “Oh. That’s okay.” She pushed past Dani to go down the hallway.

Dani caught her by the arm and Meredith froze. She stared straight ahead and didn’t turn around. She desperately hoped that this wasn’t the start of a new series of harassments from yet another person. She already had enough trouble from some tall guy on the basketball team. And now Ben Kinsey. He would probably do something to retaliate for the way Mr. Dalton singled him out. Maybe that’s why Dani grabbed her arm. Dani and Ben were friends.

Meredith murmured, “What do you want?” She braced herself and waited for the worst.

Dani let go of Meredith’s arm and said, “Uh, nothing except to apologize for Ben. Honest. It’s not okay that Ben picks on you, and so, um...look, I’m just sorry, okay?”

Meredith didn’t know what to say. She looked back over her shoulder and muttered, “Thanks. I gotta go.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw real apology in Dani’s eyes, but why would Dani apologize? Dani wasn’t the one that called her a name. Meredith shrugged. Maybe Dani’d had enough, too. Having the senior class president as an ally might be nice. Not that Dani Lassiter would ever consider being her friend. No. No one at this school would ever claim that honor.

She rounded a corner and made her way toward the middle school that was attached to the high school by an enclosed walkway near the gymnasium. Meredith sometimes liked to surprise Mikey, so she paused outside the open door of his classroom. His resource teacher, Miss Stevens, was helping him get his coat on. Meredith smiled. Mikey’s dark brown hair was wild as usual. Miss Stevens hadn’t quite gotten his right arm in the sleeve when Mikey spotted her peeking around the doorjamb. He ran toward her.

“Mewee Bewee!” he yelled and ran over to her, right sleeve dangling. He pronounced her name that way because he still had trouble wrapping his tongue around the “r” sound. He had never been able to pronounce the name “Meredith” so they had settled on “Merry.” He wrapped her in a big hug. He was in sixth grade, and hadn’t hit a growth spurt yet so he only came as high as her chest, but he was strong nonetheless. He gave her a sloppy kiss.

When she finally extracted herself from his grip, she said, “Hey, Mikey...” She searched her brain for something she hadn’t used in a while. “...Bikey.”

He seemed delighted with this play on his name. He jumped around and shouted, “Mikey Bikey, Mikey Bikey, Mikey Bikey.”

Miss Stevens laughed. “Hey, Mikey Bikey, come here and let me finish putting your coat on. His immediate compliance made both his teacher and Meredith laugh. Miss Stevens was a fairly new teacher, not much older than Meredith, and had a fresh enthusiastic air about her that Meredith hoped she could capture for herself when she went to Syracuse University in the fall. If she got in, that is.

Meredith walked into the classroom. “So how did my baby brother behave today?”

“Oh, he was great. He always is. The other kids have warmed up to having a classmate with Down syndrome, and Mikey’s a real charmer, so they’re fine with him. Let me show you the book he started today. It’s fourth grade level.” Miss Stevens finished getting Mikey’s right arm in the sleeve of his winter coat and went over to his cubby. While his teacher pulled out the book, Meredith helped Mikey with his coat. She inserted the two ends of the zipper together and stood back. Mikey reached down and pulled the zipper up all on his own. Miss Stevens handed the book to Meredith and said, “It’s about a dog named Harry who does detective work.”

Meredith read the cover.
Harry, Dog Spy
. “I don’t think he has this one.”

“I think he had some real understanding today, too. Tomorrow we’re going to discuss the plot, so I’ll have a much better idea how he’s progressing.” She turned toward Mikey. “Mikey, do you want to take Harry home?”

The word Harry sent him into another jumping spree. He shouted, “Hawey, Hawey, Hawey.”

Meredith laughed and took the book from the teacher. “I think that means yes.” She put the book in his orange book bag. Actually, the color was leaning more toward cadmium orange. She looked for his lunch box, but didn’t see it. “Mikey, where’s your lunch box?”

“Wunch box,” he repeated, his demeanor suddenly serious. He turned in a complete circle and looked around the room. His face lit up. “Winnow.” He pointed toward the row of windows.

“Window sill, Mikey. Windowsill.”

“Winnowsill, winnowsill, winnowsill,” he shouted and skipped over to retrieve his lunchbox.

Miss Stevens smiled and said to Meredith, “I’ll put this in my January report, but please tell your folks he’s been enunciating more clearly, lately. He’s such a sweet little guy I figure I’d spread the good news sooner.”

“Thanks, Miss Stevens. I’ll tell them. I think he really likes having Resource with you.” To Mikey she said, “C’mon, Mikey Bikey, we have to hit the road, in the cold, to our abode.” Meredith grimaced at her bad attempt at rhyming.

Mikey threw his head back and laughed with his mouth wide open. “Mewey, ‘bode.” He laughed again even though he probably had no idea what the word ‘abode’ meant.

They left the classroom and made their way through the now deserted hallways to the front of the high school. Meredith stopped in front of the main doors and took a deep breath. She said to her brother, “Ready, Mikey? It’s gonna be cold.”

“Weddy, Mewey.” His shoulders tightened up and Meredith could tell that he was just as excited as she was to make the three-quarter mile trek home in the frigid January temperatures.

Meredith opened the door a crack and cringed. It had to be below freezing. “Let’s do it, Mikey.” A blast of cold air hit them as they left their sanctuary.

Chapter Two

The Sympathy Vote

MEREDITH SAT IN the auditorium with her sketchbook open. Mrs. Levine required a sketchbook as part of the AP Art class so now was as good a time as any to add to it. She abhorred these senior class meetings. Meredith hardly listened to anything spewing from the stage because, in the one and a half years since she had been at the school, she hadn’t gone to a single social event and didn’t intend to start now. The senior class, over three hundred in total, met every other month in the school auditorium. Meredith looked up at the stage when Mr. Dalton, who sponsored the senior class, asked Dani to give an update on senior events.

Dani took the steps two at a time and practically leaped behind the podium. Perfectly centered against the backdrop of the heavy green velvet curtains, she looked out at her fellow classmates as if taking them in one by one. Some of the teachers at Whickett High School couldn’t get their classes of thirty quiet, but here was Dani Lassiter keeping over three hundred plus seniors quiet with just a long glance. Meredith decided she had found a good subject to sketch.

During the first two senior class meetings of the year, she had sketched Mr. Dalton in profile, the back of some kid’s head in front of her, and Mrs. Olsen, the secretary from the main office who took the minutes. At the November meeting, she tried to sketch her father from memory, but stopped when she couldn’t quite recall how his brown eyes looked behind his glasses. She remembered how sad that had made her feel and quietly vowed to spend more time with her dad when he was home from his second shift job at Amalgamated Cardboard. She would be leaving home to head off for college soon enough.