Art School Chapter 1

My name is Artemis. Yes, like the Greek goddess of the hunt and the moon. But, unfortunately, I am not quite as great and all-powerful. I come from an ordinary family who lives the ordinary small town of Clarington, Wyoming. Father is a banker and Mother stays at home to care for my four younger siblings (all boys) and myself.

I am seventeen and a senior at Clarington High. It is second semester and my nerves have been wired tight all year. I can’t go a single day without someone asking me about college and my future career. Sure, I know what I want. I want to make my parents proud of me. I want to see delight in their eyes when they look at me, happiness for who I’ve become. And in order for that to happen, I shall learn Father’s craft.

For the past three years, he has taken me to his work every Wednesday afternoon to teach me everything he knows. I know the place and the routine like the back of my hand. I’m good with numbers. I’m good with organization. I get banking. And Father thinks I get it, too. So starting next summer, after I graduate, I will start working there full-time. Father isn’t the manager, but he might as well be. The actual manager is a fat lazy man with a drooping mustache. Unlike Father, who is in good shape with a shaven face and straight back. And he is more than happy to have someone (Father) do all the work for him. So my getting hired didn’t bother him much, considering how much he owed us.

I push open the front door, appreciating the rush of warm air. Outside, it was a bitter 29 degrees. I brush my boots against the doormat, ice crystals tumbling to the ground. Sliding my backpack off my shoulder, I call out to Mother.

“In the bedroom!”

Mother is a kind woman, but is never afraid to state her opinion if she thinks it needs to be heard. Which is all the time. Her eyes are almost as dark as her short black hair, a complete contrast to me. I hate cutting my hair, and it tumbles in a waterfall of blonde curls down my back, highlighting my bluish-green eyes. I get my looks from Father, while my four brothers all look like Mother. Tommy, Ash, Kaleb and Jonah. Not very unique names compared to my own. They are 14, 10, 8 and 5- a real handful.

“How was school?” she asks, glancing up from a half-crocheted sweater for Jonah.

I shrug, taking a seat on the side of the bed. “It was alright. The usual. The counselor called me down to talk to me again.”

Mother shakes her head. “How many times do we have to tell them? You’re not going to college.”

My parents don’t believe in college. They think it’s for snobs. Neither of them went when they were my age, nor do they think I should go because I will be going straight to working at the bank after high school. And even if I did want to go, there was no way we could afford it.

“She is just trying to help, Mom. I have really good grades and she thinks I should use that to my advantage. She says I might even have a chance at valedictorian.”

“Honey, I think it’s wonderful that you are so smart and getting such good grades. But Mrs. Winston knows that you don’t need to go to college because you are going to work at the bank with your father,” Mother replies.

“I know-“ I am cut off by the ringing of the phone.

Mother sets down her crocheting and jumps off the bed to answer the phone.

I finger at the fraying ends of the blanket, waiting for her to come back. We’ve had this conversation so many times. I don’t know why I even bother telling her anymore. I know I’m not going to college. I’m going to be a banker, just like Father. I just . . .

I look up as Mother returns and am startled when I see tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over. I get up and rush to her.

“What’s wrong? Is Father okay?” I ask, dread settling in my bones.

Mother shakes her head. “It’s your Aunt Lacy. She got in an awful car accident and is in a coma.”

My heart stops for a moment. Aunt Lacy is Mother’s favorite sister, and someone the rest of us love. She is extremely outgoing and it is impossible not to love her. While my family is typically quieter, she seems to being out the best in all of us when she visits.

I pull Mother into a hug. “Do they know what happened exactly?”

“The doctor told me she was driving late at night and that she hit a tree. There were marks on the road indicating she swerved. Their best guess is that she was avoiding a deer,” Mother explained.

I sigh. “Oh, Aunt Lacy. She’s rather kill herself than a deer.”

Mother stepped back from my embrace, wiping away her tears on her sleeve. “Yes, and she’s an idiot for it.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Not we, you.”

“Me? What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

“You must go ad take care of her. Your Father has to work and I have to take care of the boys. You can be there for her when she wakes up. Darling, we are her only living relations. We are all she’s got.”

I can’t stop the thought of if she wakes up from running through my mind. “But what about school?”

“You can hop on a plane for New York City tomorrow morning. It’s Saturday. You can stay there for a week and be back by next Monday. I know it might be hard to catch up, but you shouldn’t fall behind too far, right?” Mother asks.

I shake my head. It will be a bit difficult, but I could handle it. Aunt Lacy needed me more than I needed school right now. “Okay, I’ll go pack my things.”

I go down the hallway and into my room, a bedroom I share with Kaleb. He is the most quiet and calm out of the four boys, therefore the only one that doesn’t drive me completely insane. He is lying on his stomach on the floor, flipping through Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham. I step over him and reach into the closet, extracting an armful of clothes.

Kaleb looks up from his book. “What are you doing?”

I pull my suitcase out from under my bed. It is covered in dust and reeks of that old person-smell. I couldn’t even remember the last time we went on a vacation. Not that visiting my aunt in a coma is a vacation. “I’m packing.”

“Packing? Are we going somewhere?” he asks, puzzled.

“You know Aunt Lacy?”

He nods.

“She got in an accident and I’m going to visit her for a little while to help her feel better.”

“Can I come with you? I like Aunt Lacy,” he says, turning the page in his book, his attention already waning.

I kneel next to him, running my fingers through his darks locks. He looks up at me with his adorable innocent eyes, his awareness broadening to me once again. “I’m afraid you have to stay here. But I’ll be back before you know it!”

“Promise?”

My heart melts. “Promise.”

Kaleb turns back to his storybook, mesmerized by little Sam-I-Am.