by Shawn James
“It’s just I want to design fashions and they tell me I need to learn how to draw naked bodies before I can draw clothes. But I just don’t like seeing girls’ boobs, or their coochies, or guys’ ding-a-lings.”
Maybe I can help her understand how a drawing naked person is integral to her to pursuing her dream of becoming a fashion designer. “Look at it this way. The faster you learn how to draw people with their clothes off, the better you’ll be at it when it’s time to draw them with your clothes for them.”
Jessica lights up on hearing that. “I never thought about it that way.”
She’s probably just learning how to think. “So what are you working on with all the computer equipment?” I inquire.
“I have a paper I have to turn in for my English class.”
“Why don’t you go up to the Computer lab to print it out?”
“It’s kind of a hassle to get up there. And I never get a computer.”
Probably due to her mousy body language. I’m probably the first person she’s felt confident enough to approach all semester. “Is the center usually that busy? I got a computer-”
“Around lunchtime, it’s next to impossible to get a computer there or at the library. So I come down here to work with my own tablet and printer.”
Hold on. Here’s something I didn’t know. “They make printers small enough to fit in a backpack?”
“Yeah. It’s so light I can carry it along with me along with my tablet.”
I look over the device sitting on the table and get an idea of how those notes are being printed. “How do you print without USB cables?”
“USB cables are for deskblocks.” Jessica continues. “iPads have Bluetooth that allows you to print stuff wirelessly.”
Just like I did with my iPhone a few minutes ago with my AirPrint software.
Jessica catches the time on the clock on the wall that reads 11:50. “Well, I’ve got to get to class. Thanks for helping me out.”
I wish I could thank her for her helping me out. “See you.”
Jessica rushes back to her table, gathers her iPad, printer, and paper and stuffs them in her backpack. As she hurries out of the student lounge to her English class, Marilyn strolls in with a smile on her face. When she sees me, she rushes over to my table and has a seat across from me.
“Looks like you’re finding your way around campus.” Marilyn says.
I’m getting more comfortable around here. “I found this place on my way to the computer lab.” I reply. “Taking a break from answering phones?”
“I wish. I just came out of my Business Law class.”
“Kind of a tight schedule you’re working on-”
“Yeah, Tuesdays and Thursdays are crazy like that for me. Sometimes I’m running out of the studio half-dressed to get over to the business building down on 16th Street.”
If she’s rushing down 16th Street and frantically making time to get to a 10:30 class, and this stalker left a note at 10:22ish, then they would have missed her by a mile with their note.
Marilyn picks up the most recent note off the table and grimaces at it. “Another message from the creep?”
“You didn’t get one of these in your Business Law Class?”
“All I got in that class was a handout on the Uniform Commercial Code.”
I just think I got my break in the case. “According to this, they say they’re going to strike after the noon class. I’m gonna be waiting for them.”
Marilyn gives me a worried look. “Don’t you think we should let the police handle it now?”
I would, but they’d wait for her to wind up looking like one of these pictures before they did something. “Not just yet. I’m this close to flushing this maniac out.”
“I know you’re tough and all, but going after a psycho like this could be dangerous-”
If she only knew I’ve been in far more precarious situations than this over the past thousand years. “Hey, I can take care of myself-”
“Look, if anything happened to you, I’d feel guilty-”
If anything happened to her I’d be the one feeling guilty. “The police aren’t going to do anything unless whoever this is does something to you. And the way they’re escalating things they may do something sooner than later.”
“I just don’t want them to do something to you-”
“And I don’t want someone else to hurt you again.” I plead. “I read how you spent a year in the hospital recovering from what Tabatha did to you on a message board last night. How you got three hundred stitches in your face-”
“That was just what they did to keep my face attached to my body.” Marilyn sighs. “After the stitches healed, I went through numerous chemical peels and laser resurfacings before they did the plastic surgery that restored my face back to normal.”
My God. That had to be painful. “It’s a miracle you’re even standing here talking to me-”
“It is. I thank God for blessing me with the second chance He’s given me to be here-”
“That’s why you have to trust me.”
“What can you do?”
A lot more than she thinks. “Look, I’m this close to catching this nutcase. And the way they keep slipping up, I know they’re gonna make a big mistake this afternoon.”
“Okay, we’ll do it your way. But if you can’t catch them after today’s class I’m going to the police.”
I have no problem with that. Now that I know we’re on the same page, I just need to keep her safe until they strike.”
“Where are you gonna be when I’m in class?”
“I’m gonna be working in Chris’ office until it’s time to go to my 2:30 Economics class.”
“So you’re not working reception?”
“Not today. Chris thinks watching over me like a hawk will keep me safe.”
She should definitely be okay there. “Great. I need you to go over there and stay in his office. Send me a text when you get there.”
Chapter 23
Isis has her eyes trained on me as I ease out of my seat and hurry out of the lounge back to the office. I’m still not comfortable with the idea of her putting herself on the line like this for me, but I have to have faith in her plan. If she feels me staying in the office will keep me safe, then it’ll keep me safe. I’m sure she’ll let me in on whatever plan she has when I call her in a few minutes.
Chapter 24
One hundred fifteen minutes. That’s all the time I have to catch Marilyn’s stalker. If I work smart this afternoon I’ll have time to spare.
Thanks to the help of the kids today, I’ve managed to figure out the method to the stalkers’ madness. And after I give them an opportunity to strike, I’ll figure out their motive.
A few minutes pass and my cell phone chirps. I slip it out of my pocket and I’m surprised by Marilyn using her camera to broadcast herself sitting in Chris’ office. “I thought you were gonna text me.” I say.
“I thought this would be better.” Marilyn replies. “I’m right here in the office with Chris.”
Marilyn moves the phone over to show Chris sitting at his desk. He waves for the camera. “Did anyone see you come in?”
“Nope.”
That’s odd. No one’s sitting at reception during the lunch hour when there’s usually a crush of students waiting to visit professors’ during their office hours. If Marilyn is scheduled to be in the studio today, someone should have been at the desk right now.
“Great. I’ll be over there after class.”
With Marilyn secure, I can go after this nutcase goddess style. I stuff my phone in my pocket, the notes back in my bag, hop out of my seat and rush out of the student lounge down the hall to Studio D. Inside, Professor Harris is sitting at her easel looking at something on her tablet computer. When she hears my footsteps, the staid gray haired caramel colored woman dressed in slacks, heels and a silk blouse rises out of her chair and cuts a cold look at me. I don’t think she’s as enthusiastic about having me in her class as P
rofessor Lewis was.
“So you’re the new girl who’s replacing Marilyn?” Professor Harris snarls.
“Yeah, I’m Isis.” I say extending my hand.
“Professor Lenore Harris.” She says shaking it weakly. “You’re a skinny little thing.”
I guess she doesn’t see what the other artists see in me. “Er…I have a slim build.”
“You’re no Marilyn Marie.” Professor Harris snips. “Now she had the build that worked well for classical figure modeling.” “But on such short notice I’ll have to make do with a dogbone like you. Can you copy the pose of this statue?”
Professor Harris flashes her tablet at me and shows me the picture of a Grecian statue. I get into the pose. “Is this what you want?”
The scowl I’m met with tells me she’s not happy that I got it right on the first try. “Good enough.” She snarls. “I just hope you have enough meat on your bones that my students can understand the emotions being expressed in the piece.”
Marilyn must have a lot of confidence to work with a stuffy sourpuss like her. A person without a strong resolve could get serious body issues dealing with her constant criticism over a semester. I’m hoping this will be the first and last time I model in her class.
Professor Harris checks her watch and cuts another look at me. “Don’t just stand there, head off to the dressing room. I have students coming in here in ten minutes who have to draw your narrow behind.”
On the insult, I shuffle across the classroom and into the dressing room. She may be a fan of Marilyn, but I can tell she’s clearly not a fan of me. I may have to put her on the list of suspects just for being such a bitch.
The clock on the vanity reads 11:58; I barely have enough time to give the dressing room a once-over before I get ready. From the looks of things, nothing is out of the ordinary, except the exit door. It has the same greasy Casteline wax on it that the exit door Studio C had on it. So the stalker’s been here earlier setting up for their attack.
I hear students filing into the classroom. I drop my bag on the vanity, peel out of my street clothes and get into my robe. As Professor Harris starts her lecture, I practice getting into the pose again in front of the mirror. I think I have it down by the time the green light comes on; on the cue I open the door and stroll out of the dressing room towards the X taped in the center of the room. To my surprise Professor Harris is standing right next to it with a stern look on her face. I don’t think she wants a show.
“Your robe please.” She requests.
I untie my kimono and hand it to her. On getting look at the lean lines of my nude body, she rolls her eyes and sucks her teeth. “Get into the pose.” She snarls.
I feel her cold eyes all over my body as I make like the Greek statue. When she can’t find anything to find fault in my emulation of the figure on her tablet screen she sucks her teeth.
“Dogbone.” She says under her breath.
“Bitch.” I whisper.
On hearing the jab, Professor Harris takes my robe, storms back over to her easel and drops it beside it. She cuts an angry look at me before she addresses the class. “Class this will be an extended pose. You will have 75 minutes to draw your figure.”
The kids start sketching on the beep of Professor Harris’ timer. I know she’s stretching out the session to get back at me for standing up to her. She thinks I’m gonna cramp up; but she’s gonna be in for a surprise when she sees me get though this session in one piece.
Chapter 25
An hour and fifteen minutes pass and I anxiously wait for Professor Harris to give me the cue that lets me know that the class is over. But instead of just raising her red pen like Professor Lewis did, she slides up from her seat and looks me dead in my eyes. Ten seconds pass by on the clock mounted above us on the wall, then twenty, then thirty. I know she’s dragging this out to spite me, but I really need to get out of here. Marilyn’s stalker is about to strike and I need to be ready for them.
Finally when she sees I won’t break, at 1:15 and 59 seconds she points daggers at me and raises her red pen. On the cue, I give her a smile, break out of the pose and stroll over by her easel where she dropped my robe. On seeing that I’m not cramped up from her little marathon pose session when I squat down to pick it up, her hands clench into fists. As much as I’d love to get into it with her, I can’t. I have a crazy to catch.
I feel more daggers being pointed at me as I throw my robe on and rush across the studio into the dressing room. After I close the door behind me, I search under my bag looking for another threatening note but find nothing. Looks like they’re serious about making a move today.
I’m on pins and needles as I get changed back into my street clothes. While I’m putting my robe back into my bag, I see the exit door cracking open in the reflection of the full length mirror across the room. A slim figure wearing sunglasses and a black hoodie cracks the door open. When I turn around to confront them, they toss a water bottle at me that misses my head by a hair. I hear a pop and hear glass from the mirror behind me shattering as I’m knocked to the floor from the force of the explosion. The last thing I see before things go dark are a pair of green sneakers rushing out into the hallway.
Chapter 26
I feel a hand nudging me on my shoulder. As I stir out of a daze, I feel barbs of steel and plastic on my back and all over my body. If whatever was in that bottle was powerful enough to knock someone like me off my feet, I shudder to think of what it would have done to Marilyn if she were here. Her family would probably be planning her funeral right now.
I feel my strength returning to my limbs. Even though I took the brunt of the explosion it seems like I just got the wind knocked out of me. I’ve got to shake it off. It’s the only way I’ll be able to catch this crazy.
I’m about to get up when I’m met with the concerned eyes of Professor Harris. “Don’t move. The paramedics will be here in a moment.”
“I’ve got to go-” I say staggering to my knees.
“You can’t go, you just were in an explosion-”
And her not being fazed by the fact that I’m not hamburger helper shows how much shock she’s in. I manage to get to my feet and brush what seems to be tinfoil shrapnel off my body. Professor Harris’ eyes grow wide on seeing how I’ve recovered so quickly.
“If I don’t get back to the Fine Arts Office you’ll never catch who did this.”
I sling my messenger bag over my shoulder and rush through the exit door that’s been blown off the hinges. As I make my way through the awe-struck crowd of students that’s formed in the hall, I activate my cloak and a flash of light takes me from the chaos in the hallway around the corner near the office of the Fine Arts Department. I let down my cloak and storm into the office ready to confront the person who blew me up.
Jessica jumps off the sofa in the reception in the reception area on seeing me. My face twists out of the frown it was in back into a smile as she approaches me.
“Hey Isis.”
“Hey Jessica. What brings you by?”
“I’ve decided to sign up to model for art classes.” Jessica says. “I think if I get comfortable with my own body I won’t be so nervous when I have to draw other people’s bodies.”
Sounds like a good plan. But I better give her some advice for dealing with the Lenore Harris’ around here before she models for them. “I think you’ll definitely get more confident posing in the studio.” I say. “Just remember that God made you and perfect and you’ll be able to overcome any body issue you have.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Jessica flops back on the sofa and continues to fill out her application as the blonde teenager sitting at the reception desk in the button-down blouse flashes a smile at me. “May I help you?
I reach into my cargo pant pocket and take out my iPhone and punch in Marilyn’s number before I address her. “Yeah, I need to see Marilyn.”
“Isn’t Marilyn in the studio?” She asks.
I’m about to answer her question when Marilyn and Chris rush out to the reception area. The blonde has a shocked look on her face when she’s greeted with Marilyn’s smile. “I decided to take the day off Amy.” Marilyn says.
“It’s a good thing she did too. Because someone tried to blow her up today.” I say.
“Oh my God.” Chris gasps.
“Thank God I only got the wind knocked out of me in the explosion.”
Professor Harris, EMTs, and security guards rush into the office. “There she is.” She’s the one who got blown up in the dressing room.”
EMTs rush over to me and give me a once over. “I’m fine.” I insist as I pull away from them.
“You’re in a state of shock-”
She’s the one who’s delirious. “Do you want to find out who did this?”
“Just let her talk Lenore.” Chris pleads.
I take the notes out of my bag and drop them on the reception desk. “Ever since Marilyn showed me these notes, I’ve been on the trail of this so called stalker.” But things didn’t click for me until I talked to her today.”
“What did I say that gave you a break in the case?” Marilyn asks.
“The stalker never left a note in your Business Law class.” I continue. “But they only dropped them in your two modeling classes earlier. If this creep was really a stalker they’d be going to all your classes dropping these little notes in them.”
“Following me everywhere I go.”
“That made me realize they only followed the schedule for your studio sessions, not your daily routine.”
“So the person had to be someone who worked in the office.” Chris says.
“Bingo Chris.” I reply. “I figure they had to be someone who saw the models’ schedules. Someone who knew where the models would be on a given day. Someone who had to have worked the reception desk here.”
“That could be a dozen students.” Amy says easing up out of her seat and slinking over to the water cooler near the door.
“Yeah, it could be blondie.” I continue as I take the second chunk of Casteline out of my bag and put it on the counter. “For a while I thought it was Kyle when I found this Casteline stuffed in the door lock. But Kyle has a sculpting class at 10:00.”