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A Past Unknown
Sleep came quickly that night, but rest was never found. My head seemed to buzz from all the day's events. It seemed like I was dreaming but it was merely my mind replaying certain scenes in my life. Of course it seemed more like haunting images of all the moments that had hurt me in the past. As I awoke, I just prayed that I could avoid any more stress that might come my way.
Morning was rather quiet. My mom was not like herself and really didn't say much of anything. Neither of us really knew what to say since last night seemed more like a dream. We quietly ate breakfast and she then drove me to school.
Once at school I quickly went to my locker hoping that I wouldn't run into Max. He was the last person I wanted to see and I could only imagine what he would say after our last confrontation. I wondered if he was still angry. I got to my locker safely and right before I was ready to head to class I spotted Max from the corner of my eye. He was walking with Cecilia attached to his arm like a stray dog that found a juicy steak. She was such a fake person on the outside, all bubbly and happy. I doubted many people had really seen her true ugly self that laid dormant inside, ready to strike at any time. As I spotted them coming towards me, I hid my head in my locker and pretended to look for a book. Thankfully they walked by and I seemed to go unnoticed. I sighed in relief.
Again I was the first to arrive to art class. The rest of the student population seemed to still have a lot of catching up to do from the long summer break. I didn't mind, I enjoyed the brief moment of quiet before the gabbing would start. I wasn't alone for long, about a minute after I had entered the classroom, Marissa arrived. She spotted me and waved while she walked to her seat right next to me.
“Hi Ally. How are you this morning,” she spoke with a smile.
“Well I have had better mornings, better days even, maybe even better years,” I laughed it off a bit.
Marissa's smiling face soon turned into a frown, “is everything alright? Did something else happen with Max yesterday?”
I had forgotten that I told her during lunch about Max and our past relationship. She pretty much figured it all out from there. I told her about our confrontation, but didn't get a chance to go into the family problems that also happened that night; the bell rang to quickly.
With the sound of the bell, the rest of the class made their mad dash to their seats before the teacher came in. Max was on time, but he did not look at me as he walked to take his seat about a foot away. I wondered if this was how it was going to be for the rest of the year. I was hoping it was the case, but in the back of my mind I was sad about the idea. I guess I was really hoping he would try and make up for what he did; maybe even apologize.
While the teacher gave his introduction lecture, I couldn't help but think of what would happen if Max did apologize. Would we go back to the way things were, could we? Maybe we could at least be civil to each other; maybe. All I knew is that we were not like we used to be, both of us had changed. I thought we would probably change, but change together. Instead we just grew apart. All I hoped now was to just get over Max and move on. I even had the guts to think I could find a boyfriend sometime in high school, that maybe I wouldn't be alien Ally forever.
“Ally?” Came the voice of the teacher.
“Uh, what?” I questioned as the voice brought me out of my thoughts.
“I had just asked you what you had thought about Renaissance artwork versus the more modern styles of today?” He looked at me sternly. “Maybe you should actually be listening to lecture instead of staring off in your own little world. This is school, not your own personal time. You might actually learn something to fill the void in your mind.” With that the class snickered, but not for long. The look Mr. Strumm had given the class could have made anyone turn to stone.
“Well I think the best punishment for not paying attention would be for you, Allison, to stay after and clean up the art lab at the end of the day, for the rest of the week. Now for the rest of the class I would like a paper about the Renaissance era and your personal viewpoint on the subject by the end of the week. I guess you may now work on your art projects for I will not waste my time on a class that has no respect.” The class went silent as the teacher took his seat at the head of the classroom. I think everyone was dumbfounded to even know what to do. They feared to move in case it would irritate the teacher any further. I was still in shock with his treatment of me, which I guess I partly deserved.
By the end of class I had my drawing almost completely sketched. All I really needed to do was add color to it. I had yet to decide whether to use colored charcoals or just colored pencils. As the bell rang for the class to exit and head to the next torture session, I noticed that several of my classmates were glaring at me. I guess with their free time they decided in their minds that I was responsible for the paper due at the end of the week. Great another reason for them to hate me. I waited for the class to leave first before I made my exit. Even Marissa left without me.
After everyone had gone, I started to head out, but changed my mind. Instead I walked to Mr. Strumm's desk and squeaked out an apology.
He just stared up at me from his desk and smiled. “It is alright Allison. Just don't let it happen again ok. I was just a little disappointed that it was you that disrespected the class. I have high hopes for you since I knew your mother and have admired her artwork.”
“You knew my mother?” I was completely shocked.
“Yes, we had both taken a few classes together in college years back. I have been following her artwork since then. Its amazing work, you should be really proud of her. When I heard that her daughter was going to be in my class, I was very excited. I'm sorry if I was a little harsh. I just wanted to make a point. Kind of use you as an example. I am glad though that you at least apologized. Thank you.” He grinned again and played around with some papers on the desk.
I had a few mixed feelings about what he said. First I wanted to go off on him because now the class hated me more than ever, but I didn't. I also wanted to ask more about my mother and about her college days, but I guess I had plenty of time to do that since I would be staying after class every day this week.
“Well I have to get to class. I will be here after school.” I said as I started to walk away.
“Alright Allison.” He waved me off and I quickly hurried out the door.
As I made it out of the classroom, my arm was grabbed. I turned to see who it was and it turned out to be Marissa. I was a surprised since I thought she was mad at me as well and would have already been to biology by now.
“Are you alright? He was awfully strict with you in class? What did he say?” She looked at me with worry on her face.
“Oh it was nothing. I guess you can say we have a bit of an understanding.” I replied. I really didn't know what to say since I was just as confused as she was.
“I don't know if anyone could understand that guy. He seems like a jerk to me,” she snapped.
I looked at her with shock and then laughed. She joined in on the laughter and we soon made it to biology class, just in time for the bell.
Biology was not very exciting. The teacher was mainly going over the introduction of science as a bit of review. It seems us students have to be forever reminded about the scientific method, something we were first introduced to years ago. I seemed to zone out during that part of class, mostly because I was distracted by the two idiots across the table. They were busy making paper triangles, which they would use to launch into a field goal zone made by the others two hands. How juvenile, I thought to myself.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I filled in Marissa about my parents situation at lunch, which I almost regretted. All she kept going on about was how sorry she was for me. It kind of made me feel awkward because I didn't understand why she would apologize for my father. I just shrugged off the feeling and finished my lunch. Marissa even asked if she could help me after school, but I told her that there was no point in us both staying after. I also wanted some alone time with Mr. Strumm. I had decided to ask about my mom. I was kind of curious, since she really didn't talk about her past much. That also reminded me that I needed to call her and tell her to pick me up at a later time.
English and history seemed to be never ending. It didn't help that they were my least favorite subjects. I almost couldn't wait to get out of class and go clean the art lab. Punishment was much better than having to sit and listen to the Great Depression; I think the rest of the class would agree. Most of them were either doodling or sleeping.
When the final bell of the day rang, everyone hurried off to their lockers as I followed up behind. Marissa met me at my locker and we talked about homework for a few minutes before she had to leave to catch the bus. It was nice to actually have a friend that I could talk to, even about the normal mundane life of a school student.
As I was walking to the art room, I spotted Max. I had almost forgotten about him, but that never seems to happen for very long. He and Cecilia were making out at her locker. It was a bit gross to watch such a display of affection, maybe because it was her that was involved. Max had spotted me this time and actually stopped what he was doing with Cecilia. It actually surprised me, since it seemed deliberate. Why would he just stop like that? I wondered in the back of my mind. After that he looked away from me as if he never even saw me pass him in the hall. He was definitely acting different.
After the long walk through the empty hallways, I finally made it to the art room. Mr. Strumm was no where to be seen, so I decided to put my stuff on a desk and get started washing some brushes.
“Oh good, you are here,” came Mr. Strumm's voice as he entered the classroom. “Once you have finished up with cleaning, I have something to show you that you might enjoy.” He smiled and looked so cheery that it made me think that Mr. Strumm was possessed by two different people. He was the exact opposite from this morning.
Cleaning didn't take too long, since not a lot of art supplies had yet been used. It was just the start of the new school year after all. I finished up drying the counters and then made my way over to Mr. Strumm's desk.
“I've finished with cleaning up the lab area. What is it that you wanted to show me?” I asked curiously.
“Oh good. Follow me.” He then proceeded to get up and head into the back room where I quickly followed. “Here it is.” Mr. Strumm had taken a large piece of artwork and propped it up on an easel. It was still covered with a protective sheet, which he had soon removed.
The piece of art was breathtaking. It had such a uniqueness to it that I couldn't take my eyes away. The painting itself was of a child holding her mother to her chest. It was like a role reversal. In the eyes of that child was a sense of protectiveness, while the mother looked so frail and broken. Such sadness was in the mothers eyes that I wanted to know why she cried.
“It was your mother's last painting at college,” Mr. Strumm interrupted my thoughts. I looked to him speechless. I hadn't a clue what to say. This piece was much different than anything I had seen my mother paint. She usually just stuck to flowers and landscapes, she hardly drew people. The more that I thought of it, she never drew people or anything remotely as expressive as this piece. It made me question what had changed.
“Your mother was an inspiration to me. She is the reason I decided to pursue art. Your father was my roommate and we were both studying law at the time. Of course there were those annoying gen. ed. classes you had to take. Art was one of the classes I chose and that was when I met your mother. I had stayed after class for some help with remembering all the artist names and which period they belonged to. Samantha happened to be working on a painting using a statue as a model. It wasn't just a replication, she seemed to bring life into that statuesque figure. In that moment I fell in love with art. Samantha and I became instant friends and she helped me a lot with opening up. Being as closed off as I was, I definitely needed her help. I also introduced her to your father. It was funny really, I swear there were sparks wafting in the air when they first met. Instant attraction you might say. The three of us remained good friends up until the last year of college. Something happened to Sam and she closed off. We didn't really see much of each other, but on the last day she left me this painting. I never got a chance to thank her or even ask what inspired it. It wasn't until your parents wedding that I finally saw the two of them again, but something had changed. Sam seemed happy, but she had lost this fire in her. Afterwards we lost contact with one another and I just continued on with my own freedom that art gave me. I will always be grateful to your mother, she was really something. I thought you might have wanted to see one of your mother's best pieces.” He smiled as he covered it back up.
“I never knew my mother was that much into art. I knew she loved painting, but she never was that open with her passion. Thank you for showing it to me.” I was still recovering from the site of that painting and from my own teachers personal past with my mother. It was almost overwhelming. I really just wanted to hurry off and interrogate my mother, but I really did not know how to proceed.
For the rest of the time that I was required to stay, Mr. Strumm told a few more stories about my parents. It was interesting to hear about the way they were back then, and it almost made me sad about where they are today. Both of them had changed so much that I thought the two people in the past could never have been them. Change was still such a confusing concept to me.
I didn't have to wait long before my mother arrived at the front of the school. As I got into the car, I wanted to ask about that painting. With one look at the emptiness of my mother's expression, I knew it was not a good time to delve into the past; the past that seemed so happy and whimsical. Instead I remained silent as we both drove back to our empty house.
 eimichan · Sun Sep 23, 2007 @ 10:49pm · 0 Comments |
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