Chapter 3: Scherzo

Seven-thirty came too soon. Richard fumbled for his alarm, at last silencing the wretched noise.

He was about to doze off when he remembered the morning plans, so he sat up quickly before he lost the battle with the snooze button.

Jer wasn't in his bed. Weird. He doesn't seem like the early rising type, Richard thought. Bathroom?

After Richard showered and put on some clothes, Jer hadn't returned, so Richard just left a note saying that he had to take off.

Richard hurried down the stairs and almost walked out into the lounge by habit, when he heard the clamor of the assembled first-years through the stairwell door. Oops. He turned and went down the hall to the side exit.

The morning was a little cool, which was welcome after the two stifling days that had come before. As Richard walked to Buck's coffee house, he checked his watch. It was just after eight. He wondered if Sandra would be late.

When he got to Buck's, the girls were there. They were standing idly by the door.

"Ah, there he is. Your teacher was right, you are late," Emily chided.

"Well, you can take your late and..."

"And?" Emily challenged.

"What's good here?" Richard asked Sandra, ignoring Emily's look.

"Never been here," Sandra said.

"Iced mochas, the croissants are great, good tea selection," Emily said.

The trio ended up with three iced mochas and three croissants. Down to two dollars in the wallet, Richard thought ruefully as he pocketed his change. He already had broken the twenty-five dollar barrier in his bank account, too. Luckily the meal plan starts tomorrow.

"Where's your roommate?" Emily asked Richard as they walked.

"I have no idea. I asked him last night if he wanted to come, and he said to wake him up. But he was already gone when I woke up."

"Oh well, his loss," Emily said.

"I'm guessing he forgot. When I got back last night he was stoned and half-asleep."

Emily chuckled. "Ah. Then I'd say he'll never remember you even asking."

"So how are we getting downtown again?" Sandra asked.

"There's a train that goes in. There's a stop just a few blocks past that place we ate at the other night."

"And what's the plan for today?"

"No plan. Let's just be vagrants," Emily said. "As long as we're over at the museum by one, we should be fine to get in with the group."

They walked the few blocks to the train stop, and climbed the stairs to reach the platform.

"How much does this thing cost?" Richard asked suddenly as the train approached.

"I don't know, probably a buck fifty."

"Great, I can get to town, but I can't get back! I didn't get money out this morning, and I just have two dollars and change on me."

"I can spot you, don't worry," Emily said.

"And there's probably an ATM downtown, since you might want to eat," Sandra added.

Richard nodded. The train came soon, and they boarded and paid the fare.

"A dollar and seven cents," Richard said, as they sat in some seats. "That's just enough for gum at lunch!"

The girls laughed.

"Seriously. First thing, let me hit the ATM," he said.

The train went fairly quickly, stopping about every twenty blocks. In ten minutes they were at the terminal downtown.

"This is actually pretty neat, for getting into town," Sandra said.

Emily and Richard had to agree.

An ATM was right in the foyer of the terminal, so Richard went over to use it. Sandra watched him as he pressed buttons. Taking longer than usual to get ten dollars out, she thought. Emily was over getting a city map from the information booth.

Finally Richard finished and came over to Sandra.

"This sucks! I can't get my money out."

"Why not?"

"I have eighteen dollars in there, and the machine only lets you take out in twenties. Arrgh!"

"That does suck!" Sandra said, but she couldn't help laughing. Richard's dwindling cash was a source of amusement for the three of them now. Although he was a little sensitive about it that first night, Sandra remembered, and choked off her laugh.

Emily returned. "Ready?"

"I guess. I may have to take you up on that offer to borrow some cash, though."

He related the situation to Emily.

"But wait!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Here, let me borrow ten dollars for a couple of minutes," he said to Emily.

"A couple of minutes?" Emily asked doubtfully. "Are you going to beg for money on the corner to pay me back?"

Sandra giggled.

"No, but I will pay you back in a couple of minutes if you let me borrow a ten," he insisted.

Emily shrugged and pulled out the bill. Richard took it and went back to the ATM.

What the hell is he doing? Sandra wondered.

Emily and Sandra both burst out laughing as they watched Richard seal up and deposit the ten dollars into his account, and then withdraw a twenty from the ATM.

He came over, holding the bill triumphantly and grinning ear to ear. Pretty slick, and pretty funny, Sandra thought, laughing.

"Desperation," Emily said, chuckling and shaking her head. "Just for that, I'll let you keep the ten dollars."

"No way. I'm paying you back. I just need to get some change." Richard was looking around for a place to split the bill.

"Richard, it's fine. Just pay me back later, then. Let's go have fun! We don't need to waste the morning with dubious banking transactions."

Richard relented, and thanked Emily.

Sandra could see the attraction between them, and smiled. But he's given me some looks too, she thought idly. Has he noticed mine?

Richard caught her staring at him, and grinned at her. Sandra grinned back, and the trio went out the double glass doors and into the city.

The morning was a riot. Emily led them throughout the city, refusing to relinquish the 'priceless and rare' map she had paid a quarter for at the terminal. She had also bought a cheap, black beret at a costume store they passed, and she was the tour guide. She made up crazy stories about what this building was for, or what had happened on this corner in 1845.

The icing on the cake came just as they had sat down on a shady bench at a busy intersection. They had gotten three hotdogs and three cokes, and it was almost time to take the train back to go to the art museum. The beret was staying behind to adorn the top of the bench post.

The day had gotten hot after all, but the shade and cold sodas were the perfect foil for the midday sun. As they ate, Sandra suddenly pointed at the street with mouth full and eyes wide. Richard and Emily didn't notice her as they talked.

"Holy shit, look!" she managed, finally swallowing her food.

Emily and Richard looked up. Stopped at the light was a school bus, and sitting inside were the familiar faces of the Wexford Conservatory first-years. The three of them watched as their miserable looking peers peeked out at them. The windows on the bus were all open, and everyone looked hot and bothered. Some of them smiled and pointed out at the three truants, and a few faces appeared over the shoulders of those at the windows to see what the commotion was.

Some smiled, others didn't. Emily noticed the same ones who didn't smile now hadn't smiled at Sandra's pig story. Some people, Emily thought.

Then the light turned green, and the bus was gone. Richard, Sandra and Emily, who had been trying to keep a straight face as the bus riders looked on, now laughed so hard that Richard dropped his soda onto the concrete with a splatter of plastic and sizzling liquid. Sandra had to grin as Emily passed him her cup to share.

"I wonder if Joey saw us from the bus," Richard said.

"Who cares?" Emily retorted. "Did you see the look on their faces? That was worth the whole orientation bore right there!"

"I bet Joey didn't know we were a stop on the city tour!" Sandra said.

Richard laughed, and let go of his anxiety over being seen.

"To the art museum!" Emily exclaimed, as they tossed their cups out and made their way back to the terminal.

The Wexford Conservatory of Music was situated on the campus of Sheridan College, a small liberal arts school. The two were separate entities, although the conservatory students used some services that the college provided, such as the cafeteria, access to non-music classes, and the campus bus system. The dorm in which the music students lived was for Wexford students only, and a mere thirty yards from the two music conservatory buildings.

Sheridan College and the Wexford Conservatory were nestled in the arts district of town, an area which also supported the city's art museum, the symphony orchestra hall, a few large parks and gardens, and a decent sampling of nice restaurants.

The art museum sprawled over a large section of the arts district. It was a classical building at one end, complete with grand frontage and columns, attached beautifully to a modern architectural masterpiece on the other end, a wildly curved concoction of silvered metals and concrete.

"That's a crazy building," Richard remarked as they approached the modern entrance. There was a group of music students congregating off to one side, so they made their way over to meet them. Richard looked around for Jer, but he wasn't in the group. A few people whispered as they saw the trio approach.

Joey, the resident director, spotted them and walked over.

"Decided to join us, I see," he said with a smirk. He mostly talked to Sandra, Richard noticed.

"Yeah, we got up a little too late for the real tour," Sandra said, smiling innocently.

"I see," he repeated. "Are you coming on the museum tour, or making your own way again?"

Sandra just shrugged. Joey chuckled, shook his head, and turned back towards the group.

"All right, let's go people! Line up!" he yelled.

"I think this guy was a camp counselor for way too long," Richard whispered to Emily. She sniggered and nodded as they filed into the museum.

As soon as they entered the museum, Emily, Sandra and Richard broke off and headed in a different direction than the others. The museum was organized roughly chronologically, Emily announced. She had again secured the map for the afternoon. The way they were going to walk, they would see everything backwards in time.

"Ooh, is that safe?" Sandra said with pretend fear.

"Why not? They recommend going clockwise, so let's go counter."

Richard shrugged when Emily looked at him. "I don't care," he said.

"Modern first, then," she said, leading them into the first (or last?) gallery. "You see, this way we can start with the coolest stuff and just leave when we're bored or hungry."

"The coolest stuff? You like modern art more than the classics?" Sandra asked.

"Well, sure. Some of it is junk, but there's some really powerful modern art."

"But there's powerful art from all periods," Richard argued.

"I agree," Emily said. "But see, most of the older stuff has withstood the test of time. People have thrown it up on the wall, and what we see now is what has stuck. But with modern art, it's fresh. The stuff is still goopy, dripping down the wall. No one knows what will still be great in a hundred, a thousand years. You are seeing art, before it becomes art history."

Sandra and Richard smirked at each other behind Emily.

"I saw that," Emily said.

The pair laughed.

"All right," Richard said, "but the stuff that has withstood the test of time, it is great. Why do you want to filter through junk — like this piece here?" Richard pointed at a gaudy construction of metal fragments from 1950's American advertisement. The piece sat in the middle of the room. "I mean, this is a pop culture nightmare."

"I like it," Emily said.

"Seriously?" Sandra asked.

"No, not really. This probably won't stick to the wall in a hundred years."

"God, it's awful. I'd like to throw it against the wall," Richard said darkly.

"The alarms will probably go off," Emily dismissed. She looked suddenly to a painting. "Ah, but this. Look at this here. It's fucking brilliant."

An elderly couple looking at the next piece over gave Emily a scowl.

"Look at the interplay of the lighting and the paint," she continued, ignoring the look. "That's neat."

The painting was a texture, really, like someone had added color on a canvas at random. But it wasn't quite brushed on, or scraped on, or dripped on. More like it was willed on, one molecule at a time. The whole piece looked like it was painted inside of pieces of shiny glass.

Running throughout the work were blue veins of luminescent paint, almost looking like hypoxic blood flowing through folds in paper. Towards the top center, the painting glowed with a radiant orange burst, like it was translucent and illuminated from the back.

"What is it, though?" Sandra asked.

"It's not," Emily answered. "But it's beautiful. I mean, look at the orange glow in the center. Is that the way it's painted? Or is the whole painting exactly the same, and it's the light that brings out the orange glow just where it shines?"

Richard and Sandra considered the painting more closely.

"I see what you mean," Richard suddenly said. "If you turned the spotlight off, the whole thing would be the same colors and texture, like in the corners, I think."

Richard stretched and tried to wave a hand in front of the light. He went a little too far past the barrier, and an alarm sounded for a few seconds before Richard backed away. The elderly couple left the room after offering another ignored glare.

"Good one, Riccardo," Emily said, chuckling.

"Oops."

A museum docent came into the far end of the room to check on the infraction.

"Hi," Emily called out to him. "Sorry, my friend here has trouble following the rules."

Richard glared at her.

"I have a question about this painting, though," Emily added.

The docent came over. "Yes?"

"What happens if you turn off the light?" she asked.

"Ah. Indeed, you are asking if the glow is painted on, or just lit?"

"Well, yes. I'm sure you know the answer. But can you turn out the light?"

Richard grinned at Emily's command. The docent smiled.

"Yes, I could do that." He walked over to a lock box on the wall and keyed it. A moment later the spotlight on the painting started to dim. The trio watched the orange glow slowly recede as the light turned off.

The painting was now a dull gray, blue and orange abstraction. There was no more orange in the center than anywhere else. All the life was gone; it was just some muted colors on the wall.