Chapter 6

“Wow!” Eva summed up the reaction to my painting in one word. Mr. Watts stood frozen one hand on stroking his goatee. His jaws opened and closed. I couldn’t say a word either. My painting shocked me into a stupor. I could relate to any cartoon character that has ever been struck on the head with a large mallet.

Eva’s large jade eyes studied me. In them, I briefly saw accusations, before she cloaked the. “Vivvie, I didn’t realize that you knew Little James well enough to paint him so accurately.”

There was no denying his likeness on the canvas. I rarely went into what I call the zone with this much intensity. Usually when I went into the zone, it could be described as tunnel vision--lock out all sounds around me. But this was different. It was as if the painting was inside me and painted itself, using me as the tool. Javelin stood out amongst a blurred background of activity. The setting was an imagined street at South Miami, where artist, mimes and bikinis on roller skates gathered--their actions so hurried that their images whirled into colors. And there in sharp focus, as if frozen momentarily was Javelin, laughing as he stood with a cigarette dangling from his fingers.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the painting. Eva cleared her throat. I hadn’t responded to her comment regarding how well I knew Javelin. It was none of her business, anyway. I asked, “Doesn’t everyone know the Bow-Ridges, Eva?” That was all I would give her, because I noted the time. School had been out an hour and Mother would be worried. I cried out, “Oh my God, I’ve got to get home.”

Mr. Watts said, “Eva, you run on home. Don’t want your parents worrying. “ To me he said, “I’ll help you clean up, Vivian.” Eve said good-bye , after staring at the painting for a moment. I’m sure her green eyes burned it into her memory.

“I’ll call your father, Vivian and tell him you’re going to be late because you’ve been working on your art project.” Mr. Watts cleaned my brushes and hurried to his office.

I called to his retreating back, “Thanks, Mr. Watts. Father will mildly relay the message to Mother. Maybe she won’t be too unbearable tonight.”

He stood at he doorway, nodding in agreement. “Let’s hope not. You’ve got enough on you with finals. Your Mother should lighten up, but that’s not for me to say. Vivian, when you’re finished, step into my office. I need to discuss something with you.”

“Okay.” I didn’t ask him any questions, because I was too preoccupied with my painting. It was by far the best I had ever produced. What would I do with it? I couldn’t show it at the art show. Nor could I give it to Javelin or hang in my room. It was too beautiful to toss away.

Remembering the time, I hurried into Mr. Watts’ office, after finishing the task of clearing away my art supplies. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Watts?” I asked, slipping into the chair in front of his desk.

“Yes, Vivian.” He sat silent for a few moments, measuring his words carefully before speaking. “James Bow-Ridge III isn’t your usual painting subject, Vivian. Even I was surprised to see him on that canvas. By now, I imagine half the town has been informed of it.”

I groaned, “Eva! Oh great, just what I need.”

“Vivian, are you aware of the curse that’s hanging over your generation of the Founding Four?” He asked, leaning on his elbows to stared hard at me.

“Yes and no. People hint about it but never really explain what the curse is about. I’ve asked Mother but she told me to never bring it up to anyone. So I haven’t.”

“It’s an ancient Native American curse, placed on the founding four families of Blueberry Ridge. I’m not surprised that you don’t know anything about it. If you aren’t of blood relation to the Four, you’re kept out of the loop,” he said.

“Trent and Paul both claim the curse is nonsense and refuse to talk about it. I asked Paul about it once, and he told me to never mention it to Trent. So I haven’t. “ I shrugged my shoulders.
Mr. Watts asked a difficult question, “What do you believe, Vivian?”

I stared at the crystal paper weight on his desk. The afternoon sun shown through a crack in the curtains. It shined on the crystal, giving it a blue glow. I said, “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never given it much thought. It could be true. There are strange unexplainable things in this world. But so far, no one’s gotten hurt.”

“True, but it’s early. Vivian, there is danger lurking within this town. You need to be careful, especially dealing with any of the founding four family members.”

Wide-eyed, I exclaimed, “You’re scaring me.”

“Good. I want you to be aware of what could go down. James Bow-Ridge III and Trent Sawyer are natural enemies. Just as their fathers are. You’re Trent’s girlfriend. Don’t forget that. Whatever appeal Bow-Ridge III exhibits, I suggest you forget about it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Watts, don’t tell me you believe in the curse, too?” He had always seemed so level-headed.

“Doesn’t matter what I believe, Miss Wilde. It matters what the rest of the town believes. Curses don’t come true unless there is a strong belief behind their existence. Remember that and don’t take the curse so lightly.”

“Yes sir.” I gathered my things and went to the door. “Mr. Watts, what am I going to do with that painting? It’s too good to destroy. And I have no explanation for why I painted it. In fact, I believe it painted itself.”

He stared at me. I couldn’t get a reading on his expression. Finally he said, “Yes, it’s your best work ever. Let me think on it. I’ll move it into my office for the time being. Good afternoon, Vivian. Be careful going home.”