The Misfortunes of Others (20 page)

Maya gave her a sympathetic glance. “Any word from Alice?”

“None. And not likely to be. I give her at least two weeks before she gets in touch.”

“You’ve been calling her?”

“Over and over again. I just get her machine. And I’m sorry, but Manhattan is too damned far away for me to go chasing her down and trying to deal with her. Honestly, Maya, she’s such a little prima donna, sometimes I think I’d be glad if she never came back. Although of course I wouldn’t want her to leave this way.” She fell silent, brooding.

“You’ve always said how good she is at her work.”

“Well, she is, damn it, but sometimes I wish she’d pick somebody else to take classes from. She’s just so difficult. They all are, in their own ways. Goddamn individualists.”

“Are you frightened?” Maya asked bluntly. “Of what’s happening?”

Weezy laughed and shook her head. “I would be, except for your brother. It’s incredibly comforting, Maya, it’s like living with a great big basset hound. You just know if anybody broke into the house he would bay his head off.”

“And then lie down and let them pet him,” said Maya cynically.

Snooky had thought that there would be some protests when he joined the class, but very little was said. Weezy remarked offhandedly, “I think you all know Snooky—well, he’ll be here with us for a while,” and they stared at him curiously, but the only comment came from Elmo, who grunted in contempt before turning back to his easel. Jennifer tossed her black hair over her shoulders, glanced at Elmo and then set to work. Mrs. Castor gave him a gentle smile, and Nikki came up and whispered, “How nice … really, how nice … it’ll be nice to have an extra person … this class
was a little too small, if you know what I … oh, dear, well …” She retired, covered in confusion.

Snooky had taken a position, as promised, in the back of the room, and now he stared dubiously at the blank canvas in front of him. The last artistic endeavor he distinctly remembered being involved in was the creation of a knobbly ashtray from clay in second grade. On the other hand, sometimes he thought anybody could create modern art; so often it seemed to him to be a case of the emperor’s new clothes. He had been to a museum once where he had managed to walk across an actual exhibit, unaware that the newspapers strewn across the floor were not a precursor to the display but the display itself. He sighed and dipped a brush into the paint.

When Weezy wandered by later, she found him hard at work painting the entire canvas red.

“Interesting,” she said.

“Thank you. I call it ‘Study in Red, Number One.’ Like it?”

“It’s been done.”

“In that case, I’ll call it ‘Animals Copulating, Series Four.’ What do you think?”

“I think you think you’re awfully funny.”

He smiled and went back to work.

Alice had not shown up, as Weezy had predicted; and in her absence the class seemed somehow subdued, their voices lower, without any of the emotional sparks Alice usually sent flying. Elmo was giving Jennifer some pointers; they were arguing over something, but quietly, whispering to each other. Nikki and Weezy were conferring, their voices murmuring back and forth. Mrs. Castor was hard at work; when she painted, her face looked years younger, serene and youthful, Snooky noted. He was stationed behind her and could see that her painting consisted of colorful figures dancing across the
canvas, marching along the frame and jumping into what looked like a blue lake. It was a happy, childlike scene in vivid colors, and Mrs. Castor smiled as she worked on it.

“Oh, good,” said Weezy when she saw it. “Oh, my goodness, it’s wonderful, Mrs. Castor. This is your best yet.”

The old lady glowed. “Thank you.”

“Oh, yes, you’ll be ready for an exhibit of your own soon.”

This remark was ill-timed, following on the destruction of her own paintings. Mrs. Castor looked at her in sympathy; Weezy winced and murmured, “Sorry,” then moved away.

The class without Alice, Snooky noted, seemed to be missing its emotional center, the force that made it move. Whatever you could say about Alice, she was a personality, he mused.

“Oh, she’s a personality, all right,” Weezy agreed when he told her this later. “Yes, the room seems empty without her, but who cares? It’s so peaceful. Mrs. Castor did her best work in months.”

“You care,” Snooky said pointedly.

“Yes, I do, damn her, but I’m still going to wait. I know Alice, she’ll show up when she feels like it. She knows she still needs me and the class.”

And true to form, the next week when class assembled Alice walked in, set up her easel in the back and went to work as if nothing had happened. There was a stir as she entered, and Snooky glanced around expectantly, but no one said anything, not even hello. Jennifer and Elmo looked at each other, but said nothing. Nikki seemed disappointed. Her shoulders were hunched and her head lowered, like a turtle withdrawing into its shell. And Mrs. Castor, far away in a land of happy dancing figures, did not even seem to notice the stir. She hummed to herself as she worked, a happy tuneless sound.

“I told you she’d come back,” Weezy said that night, smugly.

“So you did.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“No,” said Snooky. “She looked up at one point and stared at me as if I had come from Mars, but she didn’t say anything.”

“Artists,” sighed Weezy. “So temperamental. I loathe them all.”

“Then it’s just lucky that I’m not one,” said Snooky, giving her a kiss.

As the weeks went on, Maya began to show. Her abdomen puffed out and she found it impossible to get into her old jeans. She was thrilled with this. She and Weezy rushed out to buy maternity tops and pants. As with everything, Weezy had strong opinions on what Maya should wear during her pregnancy.

“Not the fifties look, sweetie,” she said in the dressing room. “Not the Laura Petrie look. Don’t they have any maternity overalls? You could wear them with a flowered blouse. No, take that off immediately. Oh, here’s a long sweater, I love those. Try that on. Where’s that saleslady? Don’t they have any creative ways to dress pregnant people?”

Maya came home clutching several shopping bags, her eyes sparkling. She felt as if she were in a movie starring herself, pregnant. “A movie about me,” she told Weezy.

“Fulfilling all your fantasies,” Weezy said, laughing.

“I feel like I’m a movie star and somebody is recording my every move on film.”

“Well, why not? It’s a special time.”

“I had no energy before, and I have so much energy now. Bernard and I are going shopping soon for baby furniture.”

“Oh, don’t go with him. He has no idea about anything. Go with me. I can see the cradle already, white with a white lace bumper … or maybe pale yellow, to go with the walls …”

“I have to go with him. He’d be so hurt if I didn’t include him.”

“All right, but just remember the color he painted the walls of the nursery. Attack of Fuchsia, if I remember correctly.”

“Bile Green.”

“Lots O’ Liver, like a cat food.”

“Smog Gray.”

“I can’t think of any more, but it was vile, remember? You can go with him, but kindly keep in mind that he has no aesthetic or color sense whatsoever. No offense, dear.”

Maya did not care. She had laid the new clothes out on her bed and was surveying them with satisfaction. “I love the overalls.”

“And they’ll expand as you do. See these clever pleats here on the sides?”

“I love the jeans.”

“Try them on again. That’s right. Oh, yes, you look wonderful.” Weezy looked her over with a nod of approval. “Wonderful.”

“Bernard will have a hemorrhage when he finds out how much I spent.”

“He doesn’t care how much money you spend as long as you’re happy. Bernard is the perfect husband. And you needed something, my goodness, you couldn’t wear your old clothes any longer now that you’re really showing.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

“You certainly are.” Weezy smiled at her old friend. Maya looked at her thoughtfully.

“Weeze …”

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you ever … I mean, don’t you … ummm …”

“Want to have kids?”

Maya nodded.

Weezy flopped back on the bed. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Do you remember when Snooky was born?”

“Not really. A little. Why?”

“Well, I remember when Janey was born.” Janey was Weezy’s youngest sister in a family of four girls. “I was ten. I remember it well. It was horrible. Horrible! My mom was exhausted all the time. Of course, she had the other three of us to worry about. But I was old enough to help her, and I helped a lot with Janey, even more than I had with the others. Well, I’ll never forget it. Janey was this whiny little blob of a thing that cried nonstop for months and nursed my mother’s breasts off and never, ever slept. It was a nightmare. Oh, not to discourage you, sweetie, I’m sure yours will be an angel. But sometimes I think having to help with my younger sisters turned me off of babies entirely. It’s not the way they tell you it’s going to be.”

Maya sat down next to her on the bed. “I know. At least … I think I do. I remember a bit with Snooky. I was only five when he was born, but I remember him when he was little, and he was a real pain. Of course, Snooky’s always been a real pain. Oh, no offense.”

“And it would be hard for me to get any work done with a baby. They don’t need you just occasionally, you know, it’s all the time.”

“I know.”

“And the diapers. I’ve never forgiven Janey for the diapers. That was my job when she was little. I can still barely talk about it, it was a nightmare. It ruined my relationship with her forever.”

“You had to do too much,” Maya protested.

“Well, maybe, but at least I got a glimpse of what it’s like. Think of all the people who have babies and have never even held one before. At least you helped raise Snooky, you know what it’s all about.”

“I know, but … Bernard is afraid it’s going to change everything. We have so much freedom now. We’re not tied down at all.”

“Well, I’m sure it does change everything. The only thing is, there must be some rewards, or nobody would have more than one kid. Look at my parents, they had four, even though it was so hard.”

“And are they glad?”

“Well, no,” Weezy said. “I don’t think so. I mean, Janey’s a real pill—even my mom can’t stand her—and Mattie’s so wild, they’re constantly fretting over her. It’s only recently that I’ve been able to make any money from my work, so they were bailing me out financially for years. Only Rose has a real job and a real husband and family and everything. Of course she always did suck up to them, even when she was little, that little do-gooder.” She subsided, brooding. “Not to discourage you from having a large family.”

“Well, do you think I don’t know? Snooky and William have always been at each other’s throats. They’re complete opposites. Family get-togethers are ordeals from hell, as Bernard calls them.”

“This isn’t the right conversation to be having while you’re pregnant. Bad vibes for the baby. Remember that Snooky and I are dying to baby-sit, so you’ll get out sometimes. Think of us as extended family. Well, I guess Snooky already is.”

“And so are you,” said Maya, giving her an affectionate hug.

Alice let out a gasp of horror. “Oh, no … Weezy … look … look at this!”

She had opened up the wooden case in which she kept her paints and her brushes. Now she stood staring into it, her eyes wide with shock.

Weezy came to stand at her side. She nodded grimly. The tubes of paint had been opened and their contents squeezed all over the inside of the case. Colorful swirls of blue and gold and pink and green lay intertwined like snakes. The brushes had been taken out and smeared in the paint. The bottle of thinner had been emptied over everything. A rank smell arose from the soaked wood.

Alice’s lips were trembling. “I don’t believe this.”

Weezy turned to look at her face. She felt some pity stir in her as she saw the shock and disbelief. “I’m sorry, Alice.”

“I don’t believe this.”

“This is supposed to be an art class,” said Weezy, raising her voice for the benefit of the other students, who were watching them silently. “Not an invitation to destruction and mayhem. When’s the last time you saw your case, Alice?”

“Last week. I left it here. I always leave it here. I have another one at home.”

Weezy calculated rapidly in her head. Last week … but nobody had come in, as they so often did, during the week. Nobody, that is, except Mrs. Castor, who had dropped by a few days ago to ask for some help with a drawing she was struggling with. And she was damned if it was Mrs. Castor who had done this. It must have been one of the others, at the end of last week’s class. She tried to remember who had lingered behind, but it was impossible; one class blurred into the next, week after week after week. She rubbed her cheek wearily. She had been doing this too long already.

“All right,” she said. “There’s one thing I’d like all of you
to know. Any more episodes like this, and the class is over—for good. I can’t teach under these circumstances, and you sure as hell can’t learn. Is that understood?”

Everyone nodded. Snooky, in the back of the room, stood with his arms folded, watching their faces closely.