Skeletons of The Heavens

The In-House Artist

       Claudia Hodgins was a tall man with broad shoulders, miniaturizing most anyone who stood next to him. This included Petrich Ivan Hollenburg, a man reaching Claudia's  shoulder in height and most likely weighing a good 50 lbs less.
"This is Petrich Hollenburg." Claudia announced to his wife Cattleya, his 13 year-old daughter Ellenora and the rest of the company present. "The upper attic and balcony area is to be his studio for next 6 months or so."
Artist? Since when did our postal company start hiring artists? Ellenora wondered. The art for the stamps was always commissioned to a select few artists that submitted their work from all over the world.
Petrich Hollenburg did not look the part of an artist, anyway. He looked more like an accountant.  He was not tiny, more like the size of Benedict at just nearly 6 foot, but dressed in a common, drab waistcoat and trousers. His hair a sort nondescript blondish, brownish color. He also wore a mustache and wire rimmed glasses. But behind the eyeglasses were the bluest eyes Ellenora had ever encountered. Not a light sky blue like Benedict's and her father's but the piercing blue of cobalt, or perhaps a shade lighter that seemed to make them sparkle.
There was also his rather odd grin. It was shy, yet friendly, but with no more than a slight twist, it could turn mischievous. Ellenora didn't quite know what to make of this artist man. He seemed a mixed bag of contradictions.
The attic in which Mr. Hollenburg was to lodge provided ample space for his easel, paints and all manner of tools. He was also given a bed and a wardrobe as well as a table to dine and another to work. The four extremely giant windows in the roof and a widow walk balcony beyond had Ellenora believing that it had been an artist studio before when her father had bought it to begin his company. Perhaps this was the reason why her father leased the space to him.
"Artists are notorious for getting so very involved in their work that they forget to eat." Ellenora's mother, Cattleya said, preparing a basket of fruit, bread, nuts, and other snacks as well as wine from the vineyards of Ecarte Island. She gave two rather full baskets to Ellenora. "Take these up and remind Mr. Hollenburg that this is NOT a substitute for coming over and dining with us."
"Yes," Ellenora agreed and climbed the three flights of stairs to the attic.
She knocked tentatively and waited and waited and. . .
"Yes?" Mr. Hollenburg called from within.
"I've brought something from my mother who said you might forget to eat."
She heard him laugh. So jovial was the laugh, that Ellenora wondered if the same man she saw earlier in the day was behind the door.
"Please come in, then!"
Ellenora slowly opened the door and peeked into the large sunlit room. Mr. Hollenburg stood at the windows considering its view. He no longer wore his waistcoat. He was down to his linen shirt, trousers and suspenders. Compared to how he looked when the company met him earlier, even with his back to her, he seemed to look considerably younger than Ellenora expected. Younger still when he turned around, arms comfortably folded across his chest, shirt collar opened at the neck, the old fashioned bow tie no where to be seen (thank the gods).  His wire rimmed glasses dangled from his right hand by the ear pieces, making his face more roguishly interesting than actually handsome. Perhaps a face of a man not to be fully trusted. Ellenora almost feared him, and yet was drawn to him, nonetheless.
Mr. Hollenburg smiled at her easily, like it was simply something he had done for years and years. 
"Ellenora. Yes?"
She nodded. Never too enthused about her name, Ellenora liked how Mr. Hollenburg said it, and it wasn't so much his slightly thicker northern accent as it was the inflection he put to the 'Nora' part.
Mr. Hollenburg looked at the baskets she held in her hands. "Gracious! You lugged all THAT up three flights?" He walked over to her quickly and took them from her. They were sat on the dining table.
"Your mother did not have to do all of this."
Ellenora shrugged. "That's just how my mother is. Taking care of everyone. Please accept it, Mr. Hollenburg."
Mr. Hollenburg took out one of the wine bottles and glanced at the label. "Tell your mother her gift was graciously received."
"Yes, sir," Ellenora couldn't help but let her eyes scan the tools of his trade, as Mr. Hollenburg took inventory of the basket items. He selected an apple, rubbed it against his sleeve and unceremoniously bit into it.
"Here," he said digging deeper into the basket and pulling out a cookie. "For your trouble." he said, offering it to her.
Ellenora paused, knowing she probably shouldn't accept it, but it was a ginger snap. She could never say no to a ginger snap.
"Thank you," she said plucking it out of his hand. Ellenora's attention returned to the tools on the table.
       There seemed to be as many types of engineering tools as brushes and paints.  Not that Ellenora knew too much about what artists needed for their trade.  There were, however, no stretched canvasses over wooden frames for paintings that she could see, only roll upon roll of parchment, and . . . were those star charts?
Near the windows was an instrument on a spindly legged tripod and at its apex was a brass and wooden spyglass. Beside it was another tripod hoisting another brass instrument Ellenora had only seen in books. It was used for sailors to measure star positions, and she could not remember the name for it. Hilary Baugainvillea would know, being a novice nautical cadet now, and rather liked for her to ask him such things.
If she had been just a small child like her younger brother Randall, Ellenora would have asked an avalanche of questions of this stranger. Randy's incessant questioning of ALL things, however, irritated her to no end. She was bound and determined NOT to be a bothersome child, or better yet, a CHILD at all.
She straightened her back as her mother had taught her, and made a short bow. "Thank you for the cookie. If there is anything else you might need, just let us know."
"Thank you, Ellenora," Mr. Hollenburg replied, "But for now, I have everything I need."
Ellenora smiled and turned to go. "Oh!" she said swinging herself back around, "Mother insisted you come to our quarters for supper, if you are not too busy. She is a very good cook, my mother is. Father claims it was his only reason for marrying her."
At this Mr. Hollenburg laughed. "Oh, I highly doubt it was his only reason. But, alright. Shall I dress formal?"
"Formal?" Ellenora had to think about it, "Well, we clean up and look presentable, but that's about it."
"What time, then?"
"We tend to have late dinners. Eight o'clock."
Mr. Hollenburg nodded acknowledgment, and Ellenora left him. As she brought herself back down to the main floor, her heart was thumping and she felt lighter than air. She scolded herself for this. Girlhood crushes were so annoyingly simple to step into. . .
"Damnation," she murmured with an irritable sigh. But then again, they made life a little less mundane. Something new to ponder and dream about. Might as well just plunge into the self-indulgence of it all, she thought, enjoy it while it lasts. It will fade in time and go away like a fever. Just do NOT embarrass yourself in the meantime!!