JULIET'S QUILL

Chapter 12: Paint Brush

I woke up to the loud noises downstairs.My mind was fuzzy-the last remnants of the dream still lingered as I got up from the bed. The soothing sunlight was creeping inside the room. I fumbled for an alarm clock but it wasn't there. My wrist watch was already stuck at 3pm. So, I had no idea about the time.For a minute, I thought, I was home but then reality shook me back to 1789. I rubbed my eyes and looked out of the window.
"The ancient people were up!" I commented at the dozen of people gathered in the street. They were talking to eachother and pointing at something. There was something unusal about the way they were clustered together. But I decided to ignore that.
There was a loud cry that made me rush downstairs. I dashed through the parlor, out of the door, and into the street. What I saw was the back of a carriage galloping away.
The People raised their hands and cursed behind it. Mrs.Renard was among them too.
"What happened?" I asked a stout man standing next to me.
"He whipped the poor child. The horseman of that carriage!" He pointed towards the storm of dust moving forward at a distance.
"Why would he do that?"
He frowned as if I had spoken something absurd. I squeezed my way through the crowd to the middle.
A child, about 10 years of age was sitting on the road with his face buried in his father's chest. The boy was sobbing, and so was the father.
The shirt was raised from the back of the boy, where there were fresh marks of whips. I felt bad for both of them. People were gathered around them, but nobody was trying to comfort them. I proceeded forward and placed my hand on the father's shoulder.

"What happened?"

"Poverty is a curse, isn't it?" He sobbed and held his child close to him.I got up, and started walking through the crowd.

"Something should be done against them.We can't let them hurt our kids like this."A woman was talking to Mrs.Renard.
"He wasn't even a noble..mere horseman.But he felt powerful because he was serving him."
"All of them should be hanged."
"And whipped like this."
I stood behind Mrs.Renard listening to her conversation with that woman when she noticed me.
"Who's that?"
She turned around, and spoke grimly.
"Goodmorning,Marcus."
"What happened here?" I questioned.
"Little Frank was playing, and he accidently threw a stone at the carriage. The horseman whipped the boy and went away. He said, the stone hit Miss.Aurelian."
My heart had a free fall at the last name.
"Miss.Aurelian?"
"The only daughter of Duke Jack Aurelian."
I looked at the lingering dust of her carriage as it disappeared from the sight. I could recall reading about this incidence in her diary. It was her birthday, and she must have forced Abigail to bring her to the village. The writings of her diary was coming true. I was witnessing it with my own eyes.
Few people helped the father to get up along with his son, and asked them to visit a doctor. I was feeling sorry for the boy, but somehow, my selfish heart was thinking alot more about the carriage. I found her.
"Juliet Aurelian!" I muttered her name.
"Yes, Juliet Aurelian. The girl isn't that bad. My sister says she's too naive. But her father is one cruel man."
Mrs.Renard held my arm and walked me back to the house.
"Your sister?"
"My sister,Abigail works there.She took care of her from her childhood."
My heart was jumping up and down like a crazy little kid. But my face remained calm as I nodded.
"Something should be done against these people. This is totally unfair. Why don't you report this to the police?"
"The police? Where are you from, Kid? Nobody can do anything. They have the money, and that's their power."
I decided to remain quiet at this matter. So, I sat on the table waiting for the breakfast silently.
Mrs.Renard kept talking about the worst conditions of the society as I thought about the golden waterfall of Juliet's hair.
"I'm talking to you,Marcus. Are you even listening?" Her voice popped my day dream.
" I was lost in my thoughts." I apologized.
"I was telling you that I talked to a painter about you. He has a small shop around the corner.You can join him as an assistant from today."
"Wow! That's great. But I don't have any samples to show him."
"You don't need any." She smiled handing me a plate full of cream puffs and apple tarts.
"Wow! The breakfast is nice."
"Pauline left them for you." She sat next to me watching me eat.
"That' so kind of her." I swallowed a bite of cream puffs.

"She's just greedy for your riches... might be thinking about making her gambler husband and two idiotic kids happy."

"Why do you hate her?"

"I don't. But she was always the selfish one." She mumbled.

I quickly added," So, Abigail came to visit you"
The point of turning around the conversation was to ask more about Juliet.But Mrs.Renard wasn't in the mood of discussing her sister.
"No."
I kept looking at her,expecting something more than a simple No but all in vain. I finished eating quietly and got up.
"I should go now. I do hope, he likes my work."
"Give your best shot! And don't worry about anything else." She whispered and started walking towards the kitchen.

"I am going to visit Abigail soon. She might help us locating your parents.You want to come along?"

Now, I wanted to hug the old woman so much out of happiness but I managed to fake a confused look.

I shrugged," I think so. I need to find them real soon, after all."

"You would!"

I walked out of the door, back to the street. The painter lived around the corner, and I could see a wooden board saying "The Paint Shop" hanging in a distance. I was never nervous about my work, but this was the first time, I was feeling anxious and scared. What if he doesn't like it? The urge to earn even a single coin by myself made me ready for doing anything.Mrs.Renard was too kind to me, although, I was just a stranger. I wanted to help her as much as I could. If I were this enthusiastic in my real life, I would have been successful long ago.
I knocked at the wooden door of "The paint shop" exactly over the 'closed' sign. There was something too familiar about this place.I heard footsteps, and then unlocking of the door.
An old man with thick white hair, thin body and a friendly face opened the door.
"Hello.I'm Marcus Breton."
"Who?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Mrs.Renard sent me...." I prompted.
"Hmmm...come on in! I was expecting you,young man."
The moment I entered the shop, my jaw dropped open. This was a mesmerizing place,unlike I thought. There were more than hundred paintings,covering every inch of the wall. It was like stepping into a painter's dream.
"This place is wonderful." I rotated my head to look around.
"You're looking at the entire asset of my life."
I sat on the stool facing the canvas. Every muscle in my hand ached to pick the paint brush and start splashing the colors all over the deserted canvas. He understood the desire in my eyes and smiled.
"Go ahead. Show me what you got,boy!"
I picked up the paint brush, and it felt so good that I smiled impulsively.
"Can I ask you something Mr....?"
"Guston Herbert."
"Mr.Herbert, how are you willing to give me a job without even seeing my work?"
"Mrs.Renard told me about you. I could never say no to her."
I wanted to ask for the reason but I remained quiet.
He smiled,"We were bestfriends back in school. She was gorgeous,and I had a crush on her. I couldn't tell her and she got married.But I didn't. I lived here, at the corner of her street for all my life."
"She knows?"
"She knows,but doesn't show. Anyway, too much of my lovestory. Start painting!"
I closed my eyes, and the only inspiration appeared in the crevasses of my mind was Juliet's face.
I touched the paintbrush on the canvas, and colors merged together to form the beautiful eyes that have made me insane.