Pinnacle (ONGOING)

Chapter Eighteen - En Garde

     "Did that woman give you hell?" Eldridge snickered, referring to my wrist which was wrapped in gauze. I bit back a retort that defended my sex but swallowed it. Eldridge was a famous antagonist in my school career, seemingly affronted by my softened nature. He made it a point to give me grief at least once a day.

     "Not going to fight back, eh?" He began and froze as Mr. Turner waltzed into the room. To my relief, my classmate eased himself, fat-bellied into his seat.

     Mr. Turner noticed the exchange he doubtless heard transpire, and only smiled privately to himself.

     "Gentlemen, we will be enjoying this beautiful weather today the proper way."

     We all exchanged looks of confusion.

     "Gather your supplies and follow me." He amended and elaborated no more.

     Obedient, we grabbed what we could carry and followed suit. Soon, we found ourselves on the front lawn of the college. He led us to a large tree in the center, and I marveled at its size. The specimen had to have seen England when it was naught but a pool of water, it was so ancient.

     "Part of my course is the instruction of drawing from life," He began. His movements were light and feathery as he drew, and in that singular aspect of his person, I saw he was truly a genius. Everyone else seemed to notice too, as they stared in rapt attention; his hand sailed across the page, guiding the chalk up and over building and tree. Calling to our attention, how as something neared us, it became larger, and the buildings could be reduced to points attached to lines.

     "See this? A rectangle piece of parchment. Now, if you hold it aloft like so," He said illustrating his point by flipping it horizontally, "it becomes flattened and elongated. The corner furthest away from you will form into a more obtuse angle, and the one before you will become acute."

     I was unfamiliar with these terms, but based on my artistic knowledge understood his point.

     We had all silently nodded in understanding once released from Mr. Turner's lecture, and thereafter I bent to my administrations. I was absorbed in concentration when a voice spoke up next to me, "That pillar is eschewed." my neighbor mocked. His insults were always thickly laced with apathy, and I found it difficult to speak up against Campbell. He was always too quick to retort, too sleek was every delivery. I said nothing in return, and after a pause, begrudgingly admitted to myself that he was right. I corrected my render, and hated to concede that I was untrained in structures. I was from the country, frequently sketching plants and animals. I had to admit though, part of the issue was how distracted I was by the enormous and beautiful structure rather than an inability to replicate it.

     "Not exactly your preferred subject, hm?" Professor Turner observed quietly. I was going to arouse apoplexy with how many people were materializing from behind me and judging my work.

     "Indeed." I deflated.

     "That's what you are here for." He placated, turning with the swish of his coattails. Red hair bound in a little black band.

     "Is this better?" I asked, turning to Campbell. The question was in efforts to make Campbell realize he shot himself in the foot with opening the sarcastic line of questioning, and to my surprise, his answer was quite normal.

     "No, it is worse now." He frowned in concentration, seemingly distracted from the fact that he was helping me.

     "You will have no room to fit the windows." He continued, placing his hand in front of my perspective, forming an "L" shape with his thumb and fore finger.