She sighed and looked around her art room. It was rustic and dramatic. The place had good natural lighting in the day, but the awful artificial lights she had to work with at night didn't lend itself to creating great art. She needed to get proper bulbs for her studio, not the dull ones she now had. She had done a few paintings featuring trees—dying trees. The stark twigs and lifeless brown trunks enhanced the bland beige that she had painted her studio wall. She had completed five paintings, but she wanted to do several more of mostly nature scenes.
She was drawing a scene of driftwood with seaweeds wrapped around it on a beach. She had run out of blue and green. Driftwood at sunset. She could already see it in her mind's eye: a lonely scene that seemed peaceful at first glance, but angry waves surrounded it and dark skies blocked the sun. The painting was an allegory of her life.
One by one, she tenderly wrapped her paintings in white sheets and carried them downstairs to her mother's VW bug. At least the car was still holding up. It looked as if it were on its last though. The car was battered and rusting, kind of like her mother's heart, she thought poetically. These days she was thinking poetically a lot. Ever since she got back her STI reports. They were all negative. Thank God. It still didn't negate the fact that she knew something was done to her. She hadn't called Tracy since then, and she was not going to contact her again. It was time to let that particular friendship go. She was never going to be Tracy's sort of people.
She went upstairs for her bag and flung it in the trunk. It had a rusted out circular hole in the bottom, about the size of her fist. She hoped it didn't rain, or her stuff would get wet.
She took one last look around the yard. The grass was overgrown, as usual, and the lone areola cherry tree that was standing at the front had weeds choking its branches. It looked like something she could paint too, another allegory.
She headed for the door and locked it. It was doubtful that anyone would want to rob the place though. It had nothing of value in it, now that her paintings were gone. She glimpsed, from the corner of her eye in time to see Alric's Audi slowly making its way past the house. She seldom saw him coming around the area anymore, not since Tracy's party. She watched as Alric slowed the car at her gate then wound down his window halfway and looked at her balefully.
What was his problem? She hadn't done anything to him. She headed to her car, ignoring him, but she realized that he had stopped completely. He wound down his window fully and beckoned to her. Arnella was sure that she didn't want to hear what Alric 'holier than thou' Peterson had to say. She was tired of sermons. She got enough from her intern pastor brother, and she was tired of men anyway. Her newest experience with the three rats had cemented that in her mind. She walked to the car door bristling.
"What?" She said hostilely, bending down by the car to look at him fully.
"Good morning to you too, Arnella," Alric said. His voice was well modulated and sounded smooth, like a radio announcer's. Does everybody who went to that university come out sounding refined? she wondered.
"Morning," Arnella said. She couldn't keep the abrupt tone from her voice. Alric had avoided her for the past ten or so years. Why the sudden about face?
"So what grand adventure are you off to?" he asked, gazing at her lazily and then at her opened car trunk.
"Why do you care?" Arnella frowned. "And why are you suddenly talking to me?"
"I thought about it, and I concluded that nobody, not even you, could be as bad as you are made out to be; so I thought I would break the ice, you know, get to know you a bit better like a good neighbor should. I have listed to the gossip about you but realized that I've never once tried talking to you myself."
"Oh, heavens," Arnella sighed, "that sounds like guilty Christian charity talking. When did you decide to do this? You know what I think. I think you shouldn't talk to me in public and in broad daylight. Already, Mrs. Ferguson's curtains are twitching and the Greens and all their children are on the veranda looking over here, wondering if I am going to devour you like a black widow spider. Didn't you hear that I broke up the Spencer's marriage? Slept with old man Spencer, though he is pushing seventy, and caused Mrs. Spencer to have a heart attack?"
"Did you?" Alric asked seriously.
Arnella giggled. He was actually asking her seriously. She didn't bother to answer. "Didn't you hear that I caused the Morison's house to spontaneously combust because I walked past it and pointed over their yard?"
Alric chuckled. "Did you point over there?"
"Of course, I did," Arnella said impatiently, "I was telling their grandchild Jimmy to stop playing with firecrackers on the front lawn. I pointed at the brat threateningly. Told him I was going to call the police. Apparently, somebody saw me wagging my finger and reported that I was casting a spell." Arnella's belly grumbled. "I have to run, I need food badly."
"You have no food at home?" Alric asked, looking over at the yard, which looked like it needed a gardener, and at the house, which looked like it needed a lick of paint. Alric was sure it wouldn't look so dilapidated if it had both.
"Nope," Arnella said, backing away. "I am one level from begging on the streets."
"Want to come have lunch with me?" Alric asked. "I promised my Mom that I would have lunch with her today. It's her birthday."
Arnella paused. "Your mother, the pastor's wife?"
Alric nodded. "Yes, the pastor's wife. Is that a problem?"
Arnella couldn't think of a thing to say about Mrs. Peterson. She was unfailingly polite and always had a kind word to say. She had dropped her to high school once when she was late and had driven fast to get there because Arnella had been anxious about being late again. "Okay," she said grudgingly, "but only because I am hungry. I hope y'all don't preach at me."
Alric nodded solemnly, looking at her as if she had done him a favor. "I promise, no preaching. Glad to see, though, that the tongue ring and the nose ring are gone." He held up his hand when Arnella frowned. "You'll drive along I presume?"
"Yeah," Arnella nodded, almost jogging to her car. She hoped this lunch would not include chitchatting that would delay partaking of the food.
*****
Arnella drove up to the Peterson's in record time. It was just fourteen houses from hers, at the very end of the cul-de-sac. Her car sputtered as she turned into their curved driveway. It was making a wheezing sound, like it was about to shut off altogether, so she crossed her fingers and hope it would start again when she was ready to leave.
It was the first time she was seeing the house up close. It was obscured from the road with well-placed trees and shrubs. It was on a huge lot, much larger than the lot hers was on. She parked behind Alric's car in the driveway and got out of the vehicle and stretched.
Alric came out of his car and looked her over appreciatively. "You tend to do that a lot, don't you?"
"What?" Arnella asked him curiously then glanced around at the well-maintained grounds.
"Stretch," Alric said. "Three weeks ago, at Tracy's party, you were stretching half naked for everybody to ogle."
Arnella thought of explaining that when she paints she tends to become so immersed in her work that she often forgets to stretch, so she stretches whenever she gets the chance, but she didn't say a word. She was okay with Alric thinking whatever he wanted about her.
"About that party," Alric shoved his hand in his pockets.
"Which party?" Arnella rubbed her belly absently.
"The one where you went off with the three guys," Alric said slowly. "I can't believe you did that."
Arnella did not want to talk about that, or even think about it. It was something that she was striving to put behind her. It was three weeks ago and she still had nightmares about it, and she had vowed never again to take a drink from any man in a party setting. She had even considered going to the police but she scrapped that thought. They wouldn't believe her, she was sure, and those guys would just band together and say that she wanted it. That's if they were even willing to admit that
they did anything wrong. See, even Alric believed that she went off with them willingly. She shuddered to think about what her reputation was like in his head, if he actually believed that she went with them willingly.
She shrugged. "I can't believe I did it either."
"Does anything get to you?" Alric asked her, genuinely concerned. "Are you really so cold that basic principles and decency escape you?"
The question cut, Arnella admitted to herself, but she had gotten so many cutting blows through the years that she sent it straight to the part of her that processed them but left her shield in place. That's how she coped with insults and even praise; she sent them to a neutral zone in her head.
"Are we going to eat? Or are you going to try to evangelize a hungry person."
Alric sighed. "Come along then."
He headed to the back of the house. They walked on cobblestone around to a shaded patio area. There was a table laid out under a sprawling cashew tree. The atmosphere was cool and tranquil. Arnella felt as if she were in a different world though she lived just up the street. What a difference money and good taste could make, she thought.
Mrs. Peterson was sitting at the table. She stood when she saw Alric and Arnella.
"Ah, Alric, I see you brought company. Welcome, Arnella. It's good to see you."
Arnella smiled. "Mrs. Peterson, you haven't changed a bit. Still looking as fresh and young as I remember. Happy Birthday."
"Call me, Joy," Mrs. Peterson said. "And thank you. This is a pleasant surprise Alric, where'd you find Arnella?"
"In her front yard," Alric said. "She's hungry, so I invited her to lunch. I hope that's okay."
"That's fine," Joy smiled at Arnella. She noted that Arnella had lost weight and that her usual jewelry statements were missing. As usual, she had her hair in a messy ponytail and was wearing full black.
She long suspected that Arnella needed some support and help. She had attempted, through the years, to speak to her mother, but that had been unfruitful. Her mother, when she was sober, pretended that all was well in her family.
"I hope you are hungry," Joy said, as she called Kadene to set another place for Arnella. Kadene was there for the week to help with spring-cleaning. Kadene came over and quickly set the table.
"I really am." Arnella said nodding. "I feel as if I was on an involuntary fast."
"Why?" Alric asked.
"Broke! I almost went outside and had some grass to eat." Arnella said, ignoring Alric's incredulous look.
She was salivating and her nose, extremely sensitive to food because she hadn't had any in a while, picked up the aroma of chicken soup. She sniffed the air and smiled. In no time, Kadene was wheeling out a food trolley with soup.
Alric stopped in mid-sip to watch her as she practically gulped down the hot soup. Joy nudged him under the table. 'Stop staring,' she seemed to tell him with her eyes. He looked back down at his soup. The next time he held his head up Arnella had finished her soup.
"So what has been happening around here for the week I've been away at Mount Faith?" Alric dragged his eyes from Arnella and asked his mother.
"Cleaning," Joy said. "Even though Mount Faith is cooler in the summer, it was nice to come back here to air out the house and let the walls know they weren't abandoned. I also caught up on my reading. I am happy that I was not assigned any summer classes to teach."
Alric nodded and gestured for Kadene to keep the food coming. He was glancing at Arnella who seemed as if she would eat the table if given half a chance.
"I forgot that you teach at Mount Faith," Arnella said after polishing off her last bite of bread. "So Pastor Peterson is the chaplain there, and you go there as well?" she said to Alric. "I bet you all live on the picture perfect Mount Faith Drive too."
Alric nodded. "As a matter of fact we do. It's a recent development though. My parents used to commute. Mommy didn't want to leave the house unoccupied but she finally decided to move when a house became available up there."
Joy laughed. "Coping with the workload is much easier when you live near the campus, and the nursing department, where I teach, is close to Mount Faith Drive. Most mornings I walk to work."
"And for the record," Alric said to Arnella, playfully, "I don't live with my parents. I live at Blue Palm Apartments."
Arnella nodded. "Impressive. I heard there was a waiting list to live there and that you had to be recommended. Tracy was dying to live there last year but they don't allow freshmen."
Alric smirked. "Yes, they have that rule. I waited for two years before I could live there. This will be my final year of Med School so I was given a place on the Nominating Committee; I just might recommend her."
"Sounds good," Arnella said watching as Kadene wheeled platters of food to the table. "Tracy likes you. Living in the same complex will be great for the two of you to get to know each other."
Alric half-smiled. He was sure that she barely heard a word of what he said. She was watching the food trolley with intensity, almost licking her lips in anticipation.
He wondered again how Arnella, who was related to President Bancroft, could be so different. The Bancrofts were not poor people. Why did she seem so hungry now and drive that battered old car and live in that ugly old house, even though it was in a nice neighborhood.
"Why are you so hungry that you wanted to eat grass?" He blurted out before he could stop it. He had reasoned with himself two weeks ago that he was going to befriend Arnella, not alienate her.
He thought about her far too much for it to be healthy, whether the thoughts were negative or positive. The best thing for him to do was to get to know the woman behind the myth.
"I told you I'm broke. B-R-O-K-E," Arnella said in that deadpan way of hers, spelling the word while she served herself some food. The food was more than enough for three people, so she had no qualms about taking three pieces of chicken. "So my next adventure," she bit into the chicken, "is to go up to Mount Faith to throw my self on my rich relatives and beg them to give me alms." She shoved a forkful of food into her mouth and moaned, "This is good. Whoever cooked this is a gem."
"Thank you, Arnella." Joy grinned. She had deliberately kept silent, watching the byplay between Alric and Arnella. Her son was looking at Arnella as if she was a different specie.
She was terribly frank without guile or subterfuge. What you saw with Arnella was what you got. Joy found it oddly refreshing in a person. There was no guessing with this girl. She was as honest any person as you could find. Either that or she didn't care what others thought of her once she spoke. Obviously, Alric found it rather jarring.
"So why don't you get a job?" Alric asked her, picking up his fork in a far more leisurely manner than she had.
"I have a job," Arnella said mid-chew. "I am a starving artist. I need supplies so I need to beg. When I sell some of my paintings, I'll be fine again. Don't worry about me, granddad," she said, mocking Alric. "I'll be just fine. I always land on my feet."
Joy laughed out loud, "Grandpa." She wiped her eyes and nodded, pleased. "I think this is one of the most entertaining lunches I have had in recent memory."
Alric just frowned and looked at Arnella. "You are an enigma."
Arnella shoveled more food into her mouth and shrugged, "And you are too much into dogma."
"Do you know what enigma means?" Alric had not even touched his food.
Arnella speared a cooked carrot with her fork and chewed it slowly. "Enigma: a person or thing that is mysterious or hard to understand."
"So you do know." Alric looked at her, a light of understanding in his eyes. "You are not slow-witted are you? You know, I thought you were when you were little. I thought you were a feral child; you would look at people and growl and curse those filthy bad words. I thought the tons of weed that I heard you smoked was responsible for that. I heard that you used to go to the bush and chain light cigarette after cigarette that was filled with marijuana that you had personally planted."
Arnella put down her f
ork and giggled. "How old was I when I did this?"
"Ten," Alric said. "That's what everybody in the neighborhood said about you."
"And I told him not to listen to gossip," Joy interjected.
Arnella picked up her fork again. "I am not slow witted when I eat." She cleared her plate. "Are you going to eat, or are you going to try to solve the mystery of Arnella?"
"Eat," Alric said, scooping up a forkful, "I have a feeling the mystery of Arnella would take years to solve if the mystery can even be solved."
Arnella snickered. "I have heard that rumor before: that I smoked tons of weed. It's fascinating though. My neighbor to the left, Tommy Turner, must have come up with that one. I caught him smoking weed, so of course I told him I was going to tell his mother. He told on me first and what a whopper it was."
Alric raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
"Really," Arnella giggled. "Cross my heart. I have never tried to smoke, or drink. I am a clean living girl. Vanley would kill me if he found out I was anything other than upstanding."
Joy chimed into the conversation. "You know, Alric, I have never believed a word I've heard about Arnella."
"Not even the story about how she ran away from home when she was fourteen," Alric said, "and lived with a Catholic priest as his girlfriend?"
Arnella laughed. "You sound so offended."
Alric shook his head. "Not offended, disgusted! Disgusted at the priest for having a girlfriend and at you for being his girlfriend. You were underage!"
Joy interrupted her son, "Arnella, I heard that your cousin Marcus got married. That's nice."
"I heard so too," Arnella nodded. "It was a quick thing. Only close relatives were asked to attend. Deidra did not want to have a circus for a wedding, with a million and one of her father's political buddies, so she kept it to just immediate family and their closest friends, especially because Marcus is a celebrity. Kylie said it was really romantic. She keeps me in touch with all the family news."
Sense of Rumor (Mount Faith Series: Book 6) Page 3