A Battle Raging (10 page)

But he wanted –
no, he needed – her to see him the way he once was. When he was younger, stronger and wasn't trapped in this chair. He worked out with a trainer three times a week, busting his guts almost literally to keep his upper body strength so that he could offset the problems with his lack of mobility. And he had the muscles to prove his determination. Not that it would matter to her though.

A
ll she would ever see was a man in a wheelchair. Someone who might as well be a eunuch.

He would just have to show her that she was wrong.

###

"
Ms. Temple, I can't get the shadowing right," Karen Snow complained, a tremor in her voice. She was one of the two twenty-something's taking the class and from what Maya had seen in the past weeks, the young woman was easily frustrated.

Maya took a look at the
drawing and immediately saw where the student was going wrong. This assignment was about catching light and shadows and the object today was an urn sitting in the sunlight. However, where the urn's shadow should be tapering away from the light, Karen's depiction was doing quite the opposite. She seemed to have some sort of visual dyslexia going on.

Maya glanced at the clock.

"It's almost time to go," Maya said to the distressed student. "I tell you what, I'm going to lend you a book I carry with me and you can read up on the chapter on shadowing, and also how to render various perspectives of an object. We'll be talking about that next session. And don't feel bad about this. It's not half bad and I do see some improvement in your skill level."

The woman seemed
somewhat appeased by that.

"I'll go get the book for you," Maya offered. She walked to the front of the class
, checking on students as she passed them. Most of the students had finished some time ago and she had given them one-on-one consultation. She spotted a couple of stragglers still going at it.

She retrieve
d the book and then turned to address the students.

"OK, time's up
class. If you have not finished the project, that's OK. You can take the drawing home and work on it there from memory. Next week we will be talking about perspectives, including the one-point and two-point techniques. Thank you and it's been a great class today."

She meant her words. It had been a great class. No drama, no butting heads with anyone. Just people determined to learn how to draw. And that's what she was here to teach
them.

Everyone began gathering their belongings and
single filing out the door.

She waited until the last student had left before she began gathering her own things together.

She'd just picked up her satchel when a sound near the door made her turn around.

Expecting
to see one of the students returning for something they had forgotten, she was taken aback to see Zach in his chair just inside the door. Especially since he had been adamant that he would not be taking any lessons from her. Under any circumstances.

He looked different. Gone was the
ever-present wool pullover hat, the fingerless gloves. It made sense that he had discarded them today considering the afternoon temperatures were hovering in the upper seventies. His hair was lighter than she'd remembered and was neatly combed back. Much of his appearance had been cleaned up, except the shadow of stubble lining his jaw. And those gray eyes were lucent in the sun. In another life, he might have modeled high couture. As it were, he was dressed humbly in a lightweight tan sweater and jeans.

"Mr. Yarborough…"
she started.

"Zach,
my name is Zach," he insisted.

"OK…Zach
, then. What are you doing here? Look, if it's for the refund, I mailed the check a couple of days ago. You should receive it in a day or so."

"No, it's not about the money. It's about something else."

She sighed and let her things drop on the nearest chair. She had brought this curse on herself. She had deemed today a good day and by doing so had upset the powers that be who were now smacking her upside the head for her sheer hubris.

"OK
, what is this 'something else'?" she asked.

He wheeled
his chair closer to her until he was a few feet away.

"Basically I feel…
actually, I know…that you deliberately ran me out of your class," he stated without a trace of the irony she would've expected with such a ludicrous statement.

"What the hell are yo
u talking about, Mr. Yarborough? Yes…I said Mr. Yarborough. These past weeks I bent over backwards to try to accommodate you and you did nothing but resist every attempt I made to help. If you're expecting some sort of apology now, you can just wheel your behind out of here because you're not getting a damn thing from me!"

Even as her voice rose, she mentally castigated herself.
Why did she allow him to get her so riled up? It seemed to be a thing between them: he goads her and she becomes emotional. He was like PMS personified, but unfortunately she couldn't take a pill to get rid of him.

As she should have expected by now, her anger seemed to only amuse him. She had a good mind to slap that slight smile off his face.

"What's so damn funny?"

He had the good sense to sober his expression then.

"Since I don't have the refund in hand, and even if I did, I wouldn't be cashing it anyway…then I guess I'm still enrolled as your student. And as such, I expect the same attention from you that you give your other students."

"
You
were the one who called it quits, or don't you remember? And now, you want to continue where we left off…"

"No, that's just it. I got tired of people telling me what to draw, and that's why I wanted to stop the lessons. But I still want to draw…just not what you want."

She was surprised that she was actually considering what he said. It seemed reasonable enough because she had made him go off the syllabus when it was obvious that was not what he wanted. If he wanted to continue lessons with her, then she was obligated to at least let him try.

"OK, then, if you want to join the next session…"

Already he was shaking his head. She should have known this wasn't going to be easy. Not with him.

"No, I don't want to sit in with the class. I want the other setup – at your house."

"Well…I don't…you want to come to my house to do what? The only reason I suggested that alternative was because you were reluctant to divulge your drawing to the rest of the class, even to me. Since that's no longer the case, why can't you simply come here?"

"Because it's to be a private session and I'd rather not have a lot of eyes around. And, I'm not suggesting a sketch this time. I want to paint…and I want to paint you."

Oh hell naw, her inner voice yelled inside her head. She knew right away what he was going to suggest and she was having none of it. Especially since he could actually…feel things.

"No."

"You're not going to even consider it?"

"No."

"Wasn't it you who told me how your brother would fight no matter how hard the battle? That he wouldn't have just accepted his pain but would try to get better no matter how hard? Well, I'm doing the same thing right now. And I'm asking you to help me."

"And how would painting me help you?"

"Because I love drawing and I hadn't realized it until you reignited that passion in me. It does push back some of my demons, at least for a while. If I immerse myself in it, in doing what I want, I feel it's a step in a good direction for me. Now, how can you deny me that?"

"Why me?"

"Because I can't think of anything more beautiful to paint."

She felt heat flushing her skin. There was fervor in his eyes, all directed at her. She could hardly take it in.
Was she truly considering this?

"Even if I
were to say yes to this, there would be certain rules I would lay down."

"OK," he said, waiting.

"No nudity."

He seemed reluctant but eventually he nodded.

"OK, then," he said.

"No touching, no sexual innuendos, everything aboveboard."

Again, he nodded.

Then he said, "L
et's get started then."

"Today?" She hadn't expected he would want to start so soon.

"Today," he said with finality. "I'll be by your house around four…just like last time."

As she nodded her acquiescence, her inner child said as loudly as she pleased, "You're a fool!"

Most times that inner child was right.

Maybe this time,
though, the child would be wrong.  Maya hoped so.

He could see she was nervous.
Despite her art background, she had never posed before. She'd admitted that much to him just now.

He was sitting before the easel as before. He'd brought his supplies, including an oil paint set that had not been cheap. But cheap paint wouldn't do. Not for what he wanted.

The room was cramped so she had to sit nearer than he would've needed. The perspective might be off given the lack of distance. She was perched on a stool she'd retrieved from her basement.

When he'd first arrived, h
e'd asked that she change from her blouse and slacks she had worn for class. The whole outfit was just too impersonal for him.

And then he'd violated her first rule. Well, sort of anyway.

When she'd asked him what he wanted her to change into, he had not stuttered an answer.

"You got a robe?" he asked.

The pointed glare had not put him off.

"You agreed no nudity," she shot back.

"Yes, no nudity. A robe is not nudity. But it allows for off the shoulder."

"So do other clothing…and what exactly are y
ou going to do with this painting anyway?"

He couldn't hold back a smirk, which didn't win him any brownie points.

"Hang it in my living room," he answered. Then seeing her growing apprehension quickly followed with "Look, no one is going to see this but me. But it will be a reminder to me of what I can do. To keep going forward."

So now she sat just a few steps away from him, wearing a white terry cloth robe that contrasted nicely against her skin. Her hair gleamed softly in the muted sunlight coming in from the window. A couple of tendrils caressed her left brow, emphasized its arch. She wore no makeup, but she didn't need to.
Her face was a perfectly proportioned oval, the shadowing near her cheekbones giving them prominence. The light played with her irises, making them amber mirrors in which he was reflected. It would be an interesting exercise to paint himself as a ghost in those eyes.

He'd only
tried his hand at painting once several years ago, but that attempt hadn't involved capturing a living person which was a very intimidating task compared to doing still life. The shadows and planes of the contours along her jaw line, moving down the curves of her neck, to her collarbone alone were a challenge but he was determined to get everything right. Because he did plan to hang this painting in his apartment and he wanted to memorialize her so that it would seem as though he had actually captured flesh on canvas, to make it so realistic it would seem she was actually there looking back at him. A small consolation for not having the real person there with him.

The smell of the
oils circulated throughout the small space even with the windows open. A small headache had begun behind his right eye but it was a mere distraction.

There were bigger issues distracting him
, too. The top opening of the robe had slipped a bit and the curve of a breast was visible.

Despite his resolve to take things slowly, his body's response seemed beyond his control.
Anticipation was an intoxicant in itself, driving his impulses. In his mind, he was already touching her, discovering the smoothness of her skin. Driving himself hard inside her.

He
opened the paints, began mixing burnt umber and red along with titanium white to recreate the subtle tones of her exposed skin. Satisfied with the mixture, he began the outline of her face, running the brush in short, broad strokes, softening along the edges. He searched her face to memorize the contours, gauging the reds and yellows of her flesh tones.

He continued,
his brush diligently moving across the canvas, until hair, eyes, cheeks emerged, the creation of a one-dimensional woman, beautiful in repose, naturally lit by sun rays.

He only stopped into the second hour when he saw
signs of strain in her face indicating that she was becoming tired.

"I think I'm done for today," he said, washing the brushes in the cup of solvent.

She half smiled. "I suppose you're not going to let me see until you're finished."