Chapter Three
The first week back at Baldwin Faith Academy passed by in a blur. School was officially in, which meant fewer parties since the library will be packed with students cramming for tests or researching papers. Plus thanks to Yuri getting us caught by Blake, we’d been sentenced to detention. However, Headmaster Blake never comes by the detention hall, Yuri and I ditched detention, only showing up to sign our names on the list.
Ditching detention was actually a win for me. I had a paper due for literature class, and not being in detention allowed me to head to the library. I found a quiet corner table near the windows as I sat down and got to work. An hour later, my books and folders were scattered across the table as I tapped on my white flowered colored laptop. I kept my head down ignoring the looks of my fellow classmates, gawking at the fact that I was alone. Was I not allowed a moment to myself? Even the guards, were throwing each other curious glances. Surely they suspected something was up. I even saw one whisper something in his walkie talkie looking discreetly at me. Probably sending someone to make sure Yuri was still on campus no doubt.
I was aware of all of this without even lifting my head up from the computer. I noticed everything. Something my mother always hated about me. I just prayed Blake doesn’t overhear that we’re not in the detention hall. Moving my thoughts away before they headed down the dark road of my mother, I scanned the different news articles to see if the police had any new leads about the robbery we’d done at the mall in New York. After cross referencing a series of articles, the case was still cold. One newspaper had even called us ghosts.
Exiting off of the articles, I pulled up another tab to check my email, when an article caught my eye. Famous Cursed Painting by Bartolomѐ Esteban Murillo to be moved to the Louvre Museum.
Clicking on the link, I watched as the article pulled up along with a picture of the painting to be displayed, The Beggar Boy.
One of Spanish Baroque painter Bartholomѐ Esteban Murillo most famous pieces will be moved to the Louvre Museum in one month. The Beggar Boy which was painted in 1650 is said to have come from the artist’s popular genre paintings featuring the street children of Seville. However, this particular painting has another reason to be famous. This painting is in fact the known “legendary curse” painting that is said to bring death to anyone that touches it. This painting has caused so much fear, that the painting has remained hidden in an attic of a Jeu De Paume for years, until employees of the Jeu De Paume discovered it after cleaning out the attic.
The employee who discovered the painting knew of the legends of the lost painting, but claimed to not be a believer of the curse.
For the first time in years, The Beggar Boy painting will be displayed at the Louvre Museum in the Denon Wing. The ceremony will be hosted by the Queen as other dignitaries have booked their tickets for the painting’s historical unraveling. The painting will share the home with other famous paintings in the world, price ranging from 14 million and higher.
As I finished reading the article, a sudden chill came over me. I have seen this painting before, and it wasn’t in any Jeu De Paume. It felt like yesterday when I discovered my father’s obsession. I’d been playing hide and go seek with my father when I discovered the door to his study had been left open. I knew my father wouldn’t have expected me to hide there since it was always locked. I slid into the room fully expecting a boring old office, but was surprised when I discovered the wall to wall coverings of photos, maps, and paper filled with notes. I remember that every photo hanging on the wall was exactly the same, yet they were different. I’d been so lost in a trance staring at the photo, that I didn’t notice when my father entered.
“Amazing isn’t it?”
I jumped and stared at my father expecting to see a look of anger on his face, but instead he was smiling. He walked up to stand by me as he stared at the wall with great pride. “Do you know what this is Autumn?”
“Um, a bunch of funny looking photos.”
My father laughed and rubbed the top of my curly afro. “I guess the distortion does make them look a bit funny. I blew them up for a reason. You want to know why?” I nodded my head. “This photo is of a famous painting that is said to be protected by a powerful dark curse.”
“But why do you have so many pictures of it?”
“Because I am going to find it.”
I stared at my father and the happiness on his face as he stared at the picture. I didn’t understand why my father wanted to find such a scary thing, but I realized I didn’t care. I had never seen that look of happiness on my father face unless he was looking at me. It was beautiful and I instantly wanted to see more of it. I found myself asking my father questions about the painting until he finally just told me all he knew. We would spend hours in his study discussing the painting and the curse we believed protected it. Soon it became my obsession too. I thought of it as a fun hobby that I could do with my father, until it became something else.
My father couldn’t just sit still anymore. He quit his job and bought an RV planning to take us on his journey with him. But my mom wasn’t having it. She thought his obsession was foolish and had no problems voicing this whenever she felt like it. It was another reason why I disliked her. She always found a way to put him down. It wasn’t before long that my father decided to follow his dream of finding the painting. On the night he left, he came into my room and kissed me on the forehead, telling me that he loved me and that he would be back soon. I waited for him but he never came back or called. It wasn’t until this summer, his body was found floating near the docks in Maine. He never found the painting. He never found it because it had been hidden in a Jeu De Paume for years.
Filled with a sudden burst of energy, I tossed my books together along with my markers ignoring the wary eyes of the guards. My hands were shaky and my breath was coming out in short gasps. I had to get out of here.
I grabbed my books and snatched up my purse, hastily making my way towards the exit. Exiting the library, I headed down the hall past students who were loitering and headed down the steps. Pushing open the door, I made my way outside not even frowning at the temperature today. I was so busy in my own world, that I didn’t notice the person heading towards me in what was to be a sure collision. My mother would have cheered at my sudden unawareness. As it was I collided with this hard body knocking not only myself down, but taking the person along with me. The person I knocked down took most of the pain as I landed on top of them, my purse smacking my face.
I could tell everyone had been watching. No doubt someone caught this with their phone. I can just see the headlines now: THE GREAT AUTUMN JONES TAKES A TUMBLE! Filled with embarrassment, I stood up brushing off the white blouse to my uniform.
“My God, can’t you watch where you’re walking!”
The person stood up and I noticed it was a guy. He was dressed in the typical uniform for the boys that consisted of black pants, a white dress shirt with our schools emblem on it, a tie, and shoes of their choice. But unlike the other guys here, he didn’t try to make the uniform his own, but instead wore it the right way. The only thing he added was a black handkerchief in the shirt pocket, while most boys here stuck pens in theirs. His hair was style neatly and the color was so black that it made his dark eyes pop out at you.
I felt my mouth fall open. The boy bent down and picked up my bag and purse handing it to me quietly. His eyes connected with mine before sweeping to the side. Everyone was staring at us, waiting, maybe even hoping for some sort of altercation. Without saying anything, the guy walked past me as I turned and watch him enter the doors to the library. Turning back around, I shot a glare at the crowd as they quickly began to go back to their business.
Gaining my composure, I made my way through the quad as I headed towards the back of the campus where the athletic department was. It was also known as another go to hang out spot during breaks between classes. As I made my w
ay towards the bleachers, my mind began to drift to the guy I bumped into. Who was he? He had to be new because I knew the majority of everybody who went here. Could he be the new transfer student that everyone had been talking about? My thoughts produced question after question until I reached my destination.
Walking up the hill to the bleachers, I spotted Yuri laid back on the bleachers, dressed in a white tank and her uniform shorts. Her white blouse lay beside her covering what appeared to be her books, as she rocked a pair of sunglasses on her face. I walked up the steps, and made my way to where she was.
“There you are, I texted you two times.” Yuri turned to me. “I thought you were dead.”
Plopping down beside her, I got control of myself before speaking. “Wow you thought I was dead, but yet you didn’t come to find me.”
“I figured if you were going to die here, you would at least want to scare one of the underclassmen by having them discover your body.” Yuri grinned. “Besides Madison King texted me and told me you were in the library. What’s up with that?”
“I had a paper to do. Why are you here?”
“I came to interview Kerry Diamond for the school paper.” Yuri said nodding her head in her direction. “I heard she broke a swimming record yesterday. The coach said her speed is up there with some of the best Olympians. She’s that good.”
I turned my attention to the field where Kerry Diamond was running around the track. Kerry was the daughter of two well-known archeologists— her father was African American, and her mother who was of the Indian descent. She had that sun kissed honey gold colored skin that went perfectly with her fire red hair that shined nicely in the sun. She was our school’s top athlete. Mark hated her, which meant I loved her.
“I don’t doubt it. She’s practically into every sport we have here from swimming to track. The girl is driven.”
Yuri snorted. “Well no wonder she’s a loner, all that can’t be good for her social life.”
I shook my head at Yuri. Yuri was always surrounded by people so she didn’t understand the importance of having some alone time.
Rambling through my bag, I found some starbursts and popped one in my mouth. As I stared out at the students on the field, I began to feel a bit of peace. I may have joked earlier about not wanting to return here, but it’s the only place that ever truly felt like home. Whenever I went home for breaks, it was always just James and I. My mom would end up staying in the city somewhere because she always had some “big” meeting.
My cellphone beeped as I dug it out my purse as well. It was a text message from Ryan, my summer fling.
“What’s got you smiling so hard?” Yuri asked trying to see who I was texting.
I shoved her back with my arm. “A little bit of privacy Yul, it’s just Ryan.”
“Ah, Mr. Housley. Is he leaving his heaven of a boarding school to come to our hell of one?”
“Nope, just want to know if I can Skype with him later.”
Yuri purred. “Ooh La La, should I spend the night somewhere else so you two can showcase your dirty parts.”
I smirked rolling my eyes. Yuri just may be on to something. But then again it would be just my luck he decides to show his friends our conversation or better yet upload it to the internet. Hmm, maybe then I would get my mother’s attention if I’m labeled Miss Slut U.S.A. Turning my attention away from the field, I spotted a figure bouncing towards us up the bleachers. “Look who it is.”
Yuri glanced over to see who I was talking about and grinned. “Taylor!!!” She shouted with glee.
Taylor Kim, everyone’s go to computer nerd, stopped her approach up the bleachers and broke out doing the robot. Yuri and I erupted with laughter. Taylor never seemed to disappoint.
Smiling gleefully she started back towards us, her long black pig tails bouncing as happily as she was. “Hello ladies, I’ve come to let you know I’ve relocated my shop. This year symbol is no longer a fawn. I actually haven’t decided on a symbol yet. Just continue to look for the invisible paint for my location.”
“What happened to doing business in your room?” I asked. Taylor not only fixed computers, but she did term papers, hacked into the computers to erase tickets, and even change grades.
Taylor gave a roll of her eyes as she planted her hands on her hips. “My kiss ass of a roommate told Blake on me about the “illegal” things I’m into.” Taylor said. “Like I need another reason to be on Blake’s radar. She’s still on my case about my uniform, can’t she see this is how I express my creativity!”
I stared at Taylor’s clothes. She was dressed in our school uniform, but it never looked like it. She wore different color suspenders every day snapped to her pants, today’s color happen to be red. A red tie hung loosely around her neck and ended at the belt of her shorts. Speaking of her shorts, she had redesign them so one part still resembled the issued black uniform shorts, while the other side was covered in white skulls. A pair of red and black stripe socks covered her legs, as she wore black boots on her feet. Top it all off, she wore a pair of big glasses on her face. Her style was very…unique. I guess that’s why it disturbed Headmistress Blake. Since day one, Taylor and Headmistress Blake have been at it about how she wears her uniform. I think the mention of proper use of the uniform at orientation was meant especially for her.
“Anyway”, Taylor said with a wave of her hands. “I heard about your encounter with that cutie Micah Martin.”
“That’s his name?”
“Who?”
Yuri and I said at the same time. Just as Taylor was about to open her mouth, the bell sounded signaling break time was over.
“I’ll text or email you guys later.” Taylor shouted as she bounced down the bleachers the same way she came up.
Grabbing our belongings, Yuri and I headed down the bleachers and towards the front where the classes were held.
Yuri chatted merrily along side of me as I turned her out. I couldn’t get the article about the painting out of my head. It was strange how the painting seemed to pop up just a month after my father’s death. The wheels in my head were spinning when I was suddenly hit with awareness. I had it. I knew what I had to do. I just hoped I could convince Yuri to help me.
The Bonnies Page 4