First Draft Chapter 24

I had barely even set foot in the door when his voice boomed out. "Where is he?" I recognized Hermes voice almost immediately, but it took me a few seconds to orient myself to the room. "Over here Jon," Hermes called out. Hermes was sitting in a chair at the part of the circle farthest from the door. He rose and walked towards me. The room, which had been briefly silent after Hermes initial outburst, returned to the familiar chattering sound of many different private conversations occurring simultaneously. "Well don’t just stare blankly at me Jon. Let’s have an answer here."
I laughed. "What are you talking about?"
Hermes gave me a playful shove. "Orpheus. Don’t even tell me you came to art guild with out him."
"Hermes, I—"
Hermes pushed his hair out of his eyes and with his hand brushed it back over his head. He assumed the look of someone horrified, but since his facial expressions were grossly exaggerated I knew he was partly kidding. "Oh no! Oh no, you did, didn’t you? No, no Jonny. No need to make up excuses. I can read you like a book."
Hermes expected me to play along in this little charade. I knew my part was to act appalled at the lack of trust, but I couldn’t force my smile down, so I just gave up. I ended up shrugging. "What can I do? If he doesn’t want to come, then he doesn’t want to come."
"You know him better then I do Jon. Find a way."
If I did know Orpheus better, it was only slightly. Orpheus spent most of his time with his girlfriend Eurydice, and hardly ever hung out with Clio, let alone with me. "I don’t know how to get him here."
"Well, there’s got to be some way. How much money do we have in the art guild budget? We could pay him to come." I gave Hermes a stern look. "Okay, maybe that’s not a good idea, but we have got to get him here. What about if I talk to him? Would that win him over?"
"It might be worth a shot." Actually, that would probably work better than me talking to Orpheus. Orpheus can at least respect Hermes as a fellow artist.
"I tell you what Jon. Try one more time to recruit him, and if he still won’t come, have him talk to me."


Later that night, I retold that conversation to Clio. Her eyes lit up with excitement when she heard how bad the art guild wanted her brother to attend. "That’s wonderful. I told you his art was magnificent."
"I know. I’m a big fan of it myself. The question is though, do you think he’ll come?"
Her forehead scrunched up, something she always did when she was thinking. "It’s hard to say. He’s so far ahead of everyone else that he gets bored at those kind of things pretty easily. Plus, I think Eurydice sucks up most of his time."
"Well," I said, playfully messing up her hair, "is there any way I can talk to him about it?"
"Yeah, I think he’s studying in his dorm room tonight, if you want to drop by there."
And so we ended up at Orpheus’ room. His roommate Dagon had the habit of studying in the library, and so his half of the room was vacant when we arrived. Orpheus himself was sitting on his desk, which was covered with opened books. It created at least the impression that he had been studying very hard, although Clio was fond of complaining about how little Orpheus studies. Perhaps, like Icarus, Orpheus had the habit of starting books and not finishing them.
Orpheus was so into his book he didn’t notice us come in until Clio said something, and then he jerked his head up. I noticed Eurydice was sitting in a corner reading a book, but she stubbornly kept her head buried between the pages. If she saw my wave, she didn’t acknowledge it. "What are you two doing here?" Orpheus asked.
"Jon wants to talk to you," Clio answered.
Orpheus blinked a few times, his eyes wide with confusion, and then turned to me. "Yes, what is it Jon?"
I tired to make small talk first. "What are you studying?" I asked.
"Oh, this? This is just art history."
"Is it pretty interesting?"
"It’s okay. I think it sucks that I have to take it though. It’s an entry-level class, and most of the beginning art classes I got waved through. Not this one though."
"Why is that?"
"Oh, the art department didn’t think I knew this stuff well enough. And I guess I don’t. It’s mostly useless though. I mean, if the class focused on the different types of art that have appeared throughout history, and on how to interpret it, I could understand that. That’s important stuff. The thing is they really don’t. This class is mostly names and dates and useless stuff like that."
I looked over his shoulder at the book. "That’s too bad man."
"So what brings you here Jon?"
"They want you at art guild Orpheus. They really want you at art guild."
He smiled. "I don’t know what to say. I’m flattered I guess. It’s always nice to be wanted."
There was a moment of silence before I spoke again. "I don’t really care myself. I mean I’d love it if you were there, but I can understand if you get bored. Besides, I can always see your stuff here on my own. It’s the others who are really concerned about it. Hermes, really. Do you remember Hermes?"
Orpheus picked up one of his books and put it rather absent mindedly in his lap, as if something in his subconscious was telling him that he should be studying well he talked to me. "I’m sure I would if I saw him."
"Well, Hermes would really like to see you back in art guild."
Something in Orpheus’ brain told him it was time to turn the page in his book, and so he did, and then he turned another one just for good measure. "I don’t know what to say Jon. I mean I’m really not sure I want to keep coming."
This conversation was beginning to sound very familiar to me, although I wasn’t used to being on this side of it. I decided to back off a little bit. "I can certainly understand that and I don’t want to pressure you. I’m just here to warn you, because if I’m not able to convince you, pretty soon Hermes will track you down."
Without even looking at the book, Orpheus flipped through several pages. "Well, I guess I’ll just wait for him to come to me, in that case."


If I remember right, it was later that same week that Clio and I went on our double date with David and Helen. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, but we did eventually nail David down with a specific date. We didn’t have any real definite plans. I think Helen had mentioned at one point that the four of us should go out to some nice restaurant. Of course, as everyone knows, nice is always a code-word for expensive. David quickly shot it down. "Why would you want to go to a bourgeois place? Aren’t you committed to the revolution?" I can’t say I really understood David’s objections, but I thought it was just as well. I didn’t have any real nice clothes anyway.
After David shot Helen’s first idea down, she stayed quiet and didn’t suggest a second. I would have been happy going just about anywhere. In fact, I would have loved it just to go to the old hang-outs from when we were kids, but I didn’t suggest it. It might be too "bourgeois" for David. Who knows, maybe anything more expensive then rooting through garbage cans would have been considered "bourgeois".
Eventually, I suggested a picnic. "It will be fun," I said to David. "We can sit under a tree and eat our food, enjoy the breeze, and maybe even watch the sun set."
David nodded thoughtfully. "Not a bad idea Jonny. Not a bad idea at all. Where were you thinking about going?"
"Oh, I don’t know." I paused for humorous effect. "Strate Park maybe."
David punched me in the shoulder, perhaps a little harder then he should have but his eyes kept a playful look. "Bam, Jon. That’s what you get for that rotten joke."
Helen seemed happy about the idea and I told Clio later that day. Clio seemed neither joyful nor disappointed by the choice. She just received the information with a thoughtful look, and said a picnic should be fine.
On the appointed day, I got back to my dorm room, and changed into what I thought was acceptable picnicking clothes. A shirt I wasn’t too attached to, in case David decided to tackle me while my back was turned, and a pair of pants that already had grass stains on them. When I went to get Clio, she was dressed in an entirely different fashion altogether. A nice black dress, with black stockings, and nice, but old, black shoes. It was not the standard picnic attire, but I was so excited about the prospect of her meeting David and Helen that I never even noticed. Besides, I was so used to seeing her in apparel like this that it never clicked in my mind that it might be somewhat inappropriate for the occasion.
David and Helen met us just on the edge of campus. I recognized them for a ways off. "There they are," I said pointing at them.
"Where? I don’t see them," Clio responded.
They were the only couple in sight, but they were a ways off, and Clio’s eyesight wasn’t always so good. I described them to her. Helen was wearing an old pair of pants, a bright red sweater, and holding a picnic basket. David looked like he had just gotten mauled by cats, his clothes had so many holes in them. Lately, David had been intentionally wearing clothes that were old and falling apart. It was a bit of an odd habit since I knew he had so many nice clothes in his closet.
David soon saw us and began waving excitedly. "Do you see him now?" I asked Clio. "He’s the one jumping up and down and looking like a buffoon.
The puzzled expression on her face slowly vanished as she saw David. We walked up to him and Helen. "David, Helen, I’d like you to meet Clio. Clio, this is David and Helen."
David immediately reached out and grabbed Clio’s hand firmly, in a gesture that really just confused her. "Pleased to meet you," he said.
Helen smiled sweetly and gently took Clio’s hand. "What a pleasure to meet you Clio. We’ve heard so much about you." Clio reacted slightly better to this, although she almost seemed lost in Helen’s smile.
"So what are you studying, Clio?" David asked.
"I don’t’ know," she replied.
Undismayed, David rephrased his question. "What are you leaning towards?"
"I don’t know." Clio gave a small apologetic smile. "I’m sorry. I know that’s not much of an answer, but I really don’t know."
"She’s an artist though," I chimed in. "She’s pretty good too."
"Oh wonderful," Helen replied. "Clio, we would really like to see some of your work sometime." Clio nodded in reply.
There were several nice green areas on the University, which would have been perfect for our picnic, but since I think we all felt sick and tired of the campus lawn, we wanted to go to some place we saw a little less frequently. We went to a nice park, sort of towards down town, but only a twenty minute walk from campus. It was a nice little place, sort of a greet Oasis in an urban area. It was well used, but we didn’t really mind the crowds.
In fact, I’ve always enjoyed a little people watching. David nudged me and pointed to one individual sitting by the pond. "Hey Jonny, check that guy out. I think he was one of our old teachers from when we were in school."
I observed the gentleman. "Yes, I think you’re right. We had him when we were eleven or twelve, or around there, right? Boy, he hasn’t changed a bit."
He looked like kind of a depressing figure. His coat was wrapped tightly around him, even though the sunshine warmed the air. He was staring into the pond, maybe lost in thought or maybe genuinely interested in the fish. "Shouldn’t he be in school right now?" David wondered.
"I didn’t think he ever left that school," I commented.
Clio came over to us. "What are you guys talking about?"
"Oh, nothing," I replied casually, turning to Helen. "Helen, what kind of food did you bring us?"
"Yes dear, what did you pack?" David inquired.
"Just sandwiches," Helen said in an apologetic tone. "I know it’s not much, but it was simple."
"Nonsense. That’s perfect," David interjected. "You did great honey."
"Did you guys want to walk around the park?" Clio asked.
"Nah, I’ve been around this park so many times I’ve got it memorized," I answered. This park had been a popular hang out spot when we were younger. Even though it was mostly older people at this time, as soon as school got out it would flood with children who would spend their spare time there just as we once did.
"Well, where do you want to sit Jonny?" David asked.
"Under this tree looks fine," I said, heading towards the shade the branches offered.
"That looks as good as anything," David agreed.
Clio seemed distraught. "Is it okay with you?" I asked her.
She made a face. "Are there any park benches around?" She asked. "Or mabye even picnic tables?"
"What’s wrong with this tree?" I inquired, sitting down next to it to demonstrate how much I liked it.
"Um, nothing I guess," she replied. "I just thought maybe a picnic table would be nicer."
"There are no picnic tables at this park," David informed her. "We could sit at a bench if you really want."
"No, no I’ll be alright I think."
Her voice still sounded pretty upset, so it prompted me to ask her, "Are you sure you’re alright?"
"Yeah. I’ll be fine."
"So what kind of sandwiches did you bring anyway?" David asked, opening up the lid and peeking inside.
The picnic basket was resting on Helen’s arm, so she yanked it away. "Get out of there. I don’t want you to see what I made for desert."
"Is it a surprise?" David asked. His voice assumed that sickening tone that people commonly reserve for talking to young children or their girlfriend.
Helen was undaunted. "Yes, actually it is, so keep your hands off for now." Her voice was playful, and she kissed David briefly.
David joined me, sitting down in the shade of the tree and leaning his back against the trunk. "So, Clio, where exactly are you from?" he asked.
"From Suburbia?" she answered.
David’s eyebrows went up. "Suburbia? No kidding?"
"Where is Suburbia?" Helen asked.
"Oh, come on," David exclaimed. "Helen, how long have you lived in this city now? Close to five years already? And you don’t even know where Suburbia is?"
"It’s a little town not to far from Urba," I explained.
"Nice place," David said. "A little underdeveloped, but some people like that." I had never been to Suburbia, so I wasn’t able to offer much help in describing it. David turned to Clio instead. "What did you think of it?"
"I didn’t like it," she replied. "It was too small to offer anything cultural really. There were no libraries or museums or art shows or anything."
"So you must be pretty happy here at Urba then," David commented.
"It’s okay. I really thought for a city its size it would have a lot more. Maybe I just have too high of expectations."
"No, I know exactly what you mean," said Helen, sitting next to David. "On the West Coast, a city this size would have plays every weekend at least, and some sort of music would always be going on. The scene in Urba just seems kind of dead."
David leaned in towards Helen. "You know honey, in all the time we’ve been going out, I’ve heard so much about this damn West Coast…"
She lightly shoved him backwards. "Well, maybe you ought to go there some time. You know, broaden your horizons a little bit."
"Well, maybe I will. You know, I’m very curious to see this mythical place, where all the men are six feet tall with long curly golden hair and dark tans. Men who exercise while running across the beach carrying a boulder under each arm and reading ancient works of literature at the same time."
"That’s enough out of you," she said, gleeful eyes dancing about and looking adoringly at his face. David smiled at her, and returned to leaning against the trunk. Clio was now the only one standing. "Clio, come have a seat by us," Helen said, patting the ground next to her.
"Oh, I’m okay," Clio answered.
"No, really," Helen encouraged her. "Sit down, you look uncomfortable."
"Is it okay if I sit on the picnic box?" Clio asked. "I just don’t want to get my dress dirty." Helen pushed the basket over.
"Just be careful," Helen warned. "I’m not sure it can support your weight."
Clio gingerly sat down on the basket. "Hey, careful with that," David advised. "That’s our food there." David was just joking, but I don’t think Clio entirely got it. She just looked sort of uncomfortable.
"Hey, speaking of food, why don’t you throw me a sandwich, Clio," I called out.
"Yeah, get me one too," David said.
"What’s your hurry?" Helen asked. "Don’t you want to enjoy the park for a while?"
"I can enjoy it while I’m eating," David replied.
"Besides, we’re hungry," I agreed.
Clio stood up just long enough to get the sandwiches out of the picnic basket, and then sat back down again. The basket made a cracking sound when she sat down on it. She had not been quite as careful the second time as she was the first. Helen cringed slightly at the sound. Clio leaped up. "Oh, I’m sorry," she exclaimed.
"That’s okay," Helen quickly responded.
"It doesn’t even look broken," David said with a mouthful of ham and cheese.
"It’s my fault anyway," Helen said. "I should have known that a basket wouldn’t support anyone’s weight." Clio stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to sit or stand. "You know, we really should have brought a blanket for people to sit on. I’m sorry Clio, I don’t know what we were thinking."
"This spot isn’t so dirty," I said, indicating the ground by me. Clio came over and examined it, but evidently decided not to sit there. "Or you could sit on my lap." I blurted out this last suggestion as soon as it came into my mind. This was more acceptable to her, although it would soon become uncomfortable for both of us I think. My legs began to feel sore from her body, and I’m sure my body didn’t make the world’s greatest cushion.
"So, Clio, tell me more about this art." Clio nodded eagerly at Helen’s words, excited by the mere mention of the work "art." "I think your involvement is very admirable. Do you do a lot of painting?"
I felt her fidgeting on top of me as she thought about the answer. Although she loved to talk about art in general, she always became a little more uncomfortable when the topic shifted to her art specifically. "Not as much as I want to," she answered at last.
"Well, I’d like to see it sometime," Helen replied.
"My brother’s stuff is much better," Clio said.
I vouched for this. "Her brother’s stuff is amazing."
"We’ll have to see it sometime," David said decisively.
"But what about your art," Helen asked. "What do you like to draw?"
Again, Clio fidgeted before answering. "I do mostly abstract stuff. I like to play around with color combinations, and things."
"Oh, how fascinating. You know, I hear that’s really the new style now. That kind of stuff was just beginning to get big on the West Coast before I left." David rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Helen caught it though. "No, really David, it’s going to be the next big thing in the world of art."
"My brother’s stuff is really fresh," Clio piped up. "He’s going to be famous some day."
"What about your stuff?" Helen asked her. "Is it going to be in any of the art shows again?"
Clio shrugged. "I don’t know. If I do something good enough again I guess."
David had a big grin on his face as he watched Clio and I. "What are you so happy about?" I asked, sort of annoyed that he found us so amusing.
"Nothing Jon. I’m just thinking what a cute couple you guys make."
Enlarge section possibly? Walk home, Clio angry at Jon for not warning her about dress?