*NOTE: in the previous chapter, Kori's name was spelled Kory (due to autocorrect being a drag). It is spelled officially Kori!
[ •∞• ]
{ Chapter Thirty-Four: Inspire a Woman, Inspire Her Nation }
JAMES WRINKLES HIS NOSE at the large splotch of mustard yellow paint on the front of his graphic tee, pinching the fabric and pulling it forward to inspect it. "I knew I should have brought my mom's cooking apron," he whines, "I'd look better in pink frills than with this ugly colour on my black shirt."
The middle of April's weather proves to be playing nice today, which happens to be crucial to the fifty or so kids setting up for the outdoor aspect of the Art Day. James came later than Janice, who'd been lost the minute she'd gone off to organize something with Donna, and he'd been put on props duty ("I am a masterpiece, Janice," scoffed James when Janice assigned him the job via phone call, "anything I do can't be less than such."), which he now regrets as many of the kids seemed to be putting the paint on him instead of the actual objects.
Karlo, who had come to help with the production of the day in order to be the best brother ever (or, reasonably to get all the last minute volunteer hours he could get to graduate), replies to the tall blond by rolling his red-dipped paintbrush on James' sleeve. "Hah! Now you look like a condiment wheel!"
James threw Karlo a dirty look. "Stop. You don't have to tell me that I'm one hot piece of meat."
"Hot dog, sure," Karlo snorts, going back to doodling some random swirl on the canvas in front of him. "I don't know why I'm doing this with you, by the way. I have as much artistic ability in my body as I am unattractive."
James tuts, adding little yellow squiggles around the swirl. "Thankfully, I'm artistic and attractive. Just keep doing these weird little hurricanes and I can make them into a Texas war cry."
"Hurricanes? These are roses."
"... What can I say, Karlo? You must be a hell of an attractive man."
Karlo shrugs nonchalantly. "No argument there."
On the other side of the hard-working teenage boys, Janice is struggling to open a bottle of spray paint for the more "innovative" sets of work to be sprayed on the walls. When the "graffiti section" for the art showcase was proposed as an idea, there was a collective enthusiastic response to the concept. Unfortunately, Donna disappeared half an hour ago to find Ms. Tula for arrangements, so Janice could only try to salvage her dignity by using brute force to get the blasted thing open.
Now, while breaking a finger nail trying to pry off the goddamn cap off the can in her hand, Janice decides that decisions just aren't her forté.
"Janice!"
Looking up from the task at her hands, Janice sends a quick smile to Kori. "Yo. When did you drop by? Is your brother with you?" Her eyes flit around to try and find her manager among the crowd.
Kori rolls her eyes. Just call him home and get your wedding wreathe already, Janice, Kori thinks.
Aloud, she says, "No, he came earlier. I carpooled with Brielle and Renée after their shifts ended with a friend. Speaking of which, some more are coming later, I think."
Janice perks at the mention of her coworkers. "Did you ditch them already?"
"I ran ahead once that tiny dude at the front told me I'd find you here."
"Travis? As long as he's not biting down on the styrofoam cups," Janice says, her focus back on the bottle cap.
Kori laughs at the redhead's difficulty. "Why don't you wait a couple minutes and let the expert handle this?"
"Are you talking about that beefy guy who told me he wants to be a sumo wrestler?" Janice narrows her eyes. "Kids have dreams, Kori."
"I have dreams! Man, I just want to get paid to sleep literally for my dreams," Kori says, exasperated. "Besides, I meant me. Hello, former bad kid?"
Janice clucked her tongue to hold in her laughter. "Kor, the worst thing you've done is probably made a kid cry. I once cut off someone's hair because I thought it was a loose thread."
Kori blinks. "Wow. I'm not a saint, but I think you've basically paved yourself a highway to hell."
"Probably why I haven't gotten a license yet," Janice sighs, offering the can to Kori. "Whatever happened to that little emo girl group you tagged around in."
"It was a gang."
"My apologies. Your gang... of wannabe badasses you tagged around with?"
Kori sticks out her tongue, but still answers the questions. "Funny you ask that. Because I asked Lexi to stop by." Nimbly removing the cap, Kori nods her head to the side where, sure enough, were Brielle and Renée, and right behind them a few paces is a rag tag troublemaker that, unlike the headache she'd witnessed before, is dressed rather well.
Throwing a bewildered look to the younger girl, Janice instead shouts as she sees her co-workers looking for her among the crowd of volunteers. "Bri!" Waving a pink painted hand around the air madly, she calls their names again. "Renée! And... the other one! Over here!"
Brielle is the first to rush up to the redhead, wrapping her arms around Janice without hesitation. "Janice! Working hard and out like this looks great on you!"
"Girl, especially with that sweat? I'm getting thirsty," Renée, having followed the energetic woman, adds. She winks, waiting for her own hug. "Is thirty seconds too long to have a hug for? Because if not, I'm pushing for forty."
"Lots of love for you, too," Janice laughs. Even though she didn't notice, she felt relief at seeing the familiar faces. "I'm so thankful you both could make it." She glanced over Brielle's shoulder at the quiet fourteen-year-old. "Her, well, we'll see."
"Worry less about Lexi here," Brielle dismisses, swinging an arm around Lexi's shoulders, the latter glaring at the taller brunette. "She's so... adorable! Look at her rundown leather jacket. Very chic."
"Cute?" Lexi splutters.
"Relax, honey." Brielle tightens her arm. "You're not all that. Just appreciate what you get."
"Bri," Renée says, warningly.
Brielle drops her arm with a pout. "Don't tell me you didn't want me to accidentally strangle the kid." Lexi scowls, crossing her arms roughly. Brielle whistles through her teeth. "If you don't cut the attitude, the first thing I'll spray paint is on your face."
"Still going to be better looking than yours," Lexi mutters.
Brielle narrows her eyes, her teeth slightly bared. The lioness inside Brielle seemed to be showing and Janice couldn't find it in herself to tame it. Lexi's heated stare is enough provocation. "Hand me the spray, Kori. Let's test it out."
Kori hides the object behind her back, frantically looking for an escape out of the argument.
Thankfully, the headmistress, Tula, heads over to offer one.
Janice hits the back of Lexi's head and wraps a tight arm around Brielle. "Force a smile on your faces before I use the steel mop to wash up the mess I make with both of you if you don't."
The girls gulp at Janice's tone.
"Janice, and company, I presume?" Tula greets, her long skirt barely skimming the floor with her black heels. Janice could see the headmistress had curled her hair as well. "Good, good, more volunteers the better. Janice, have you already given them duties?"
"These girls will do whatever you ask of them to do, ma'am," Kori interjects with a bright smile, ignoring the glares thrown her way.
Tula nods pleasantly. "That's wonderful to hear!" Clapping twice, Tula assigns the responsibilities. "Janice, since you're with those two, why don't you work as a group of three?"
"But—" Brielle begins to whine. Janice pinches her side. Brielle retaliates by digging the heel of her foot into her friend. "Miss, wouldn't you better like me to help you?"
"We'll help if you'd like!" Renée proposes quickly, already next to the older woman. "Kori and I would be honoured to be in the assistance of a beautiful woman such as yourself."
Tula straightens out her dress shirt. "You've made a conscious decision." Paying no heed to the darkened faces of the trio, Tula describes their job. "Since Donna and the art students are setting up in the warehouse, why don't you three work in the east wing? It would be reasonable place to spray paint any ideas you've had. I can see you're already prepared with the equipment."
Spray paint? Janice pales. I can hardly doodle on a math assignment!
Before Janice can argue the assignment, Tula bids them farewell. "I expect nothing short of incredible, girls. Now, I must go greet any parents who've come early. Toodles!"
Waiting until the woman and her two (betrayal) friends was out of sight, Janice scowls. "Damned Tulip. Now I know why I'm allergic to flowers. They leave such a bad taste in my mouth."
"You know what leaves a bad taste in my mouth?" Brielle interjects, crossing her arms. "Three things: misogyny, regular prices, and hanging out with teenagers experiencing a midlife crisis at the age of 15."
The mentioned girl clenches her fists. "You know what bothers me? Dry skinned women like y—"
"What was that, kid?" Brielle asks innocently. "I can't remember asking for your opinion, though."
"You bitc—"
"Finish that sentence and I'll show you what it's like to be treated like one, twat."
Janice massages her temples. This was going to be a long day.
[ •∞• ]
JAMES SPOTS HIS SISTER wandering around with lottery tickets for the volunteers twenty minutes before the event starts. Karlo was around hitting on some cute girl that had killer polka fitted pants, so he decides to have a little fun.
He comes to two realizations before acknowledging her.
One is that she's wearing a white volunteer shirt.
Second is that his right hand was covered in yellow.
(Sometimes he wonders how he's so diabolically brilliant and then remembers it's a gift).
His last incredulous thought is that Kori's signature scream of epithets is more graphic than the walls he's helped paint.
"Come here so I can get your hair!" Kori screams, placing the basket on the floor.
James covers his head with left hand, the other outstretched with caution. "As if you could even reach this high."
"...Bro."
"What?"
"You—well, that's karma."
"What? Did some kid draw a body part on my shirt or something?" He looks down for any erotic displays he might have missed.
Kori inhales slowly, before picking up her basket. "Only did you know your hair matches the right shade of blue of the paint bucket? Gorgeous."
"Why, thank yo—aw, crap."
"Sure looking like it," Kori retorts brightly.
Taking out his lavender scented tissues from his back pocket, James dabs at the splattered strands. His other hand (covered in tissues, too) holds up his phone to see the reflection. "At least unlike you it's not a full time job."
"Learned the best from you, dear brother," Kori kisses her teeth. "What have you done so far, anyways?"
Satisfied with his clean up, James responds by puffing out his chest. He flings out his arm powerfully towards the canvas he'd completed. "Behold! With the assistance of the little monkeys, this beauty."
Little swirls had been transformed into natural disasters, with airborne cars, houses, and someone's black horse.
"Wow, I'm impressed," Kori says, eyes widened.
"Really?" James confirms, giddy.
"Yeah, because for all that boasting about you being art and all..." Kori holds her heart in mock astonishment. "That surely doesn't translate into your ability. What is this?" she points to a swirly formation. "Grade two reading buddy stamps?"
"Those are hurricanes, you uncultured swine!"
"Meh. They look more like roses."
James wipes his left hand on her shirt this time.
Kori jumps back, yelping at the streak of yellow and blue handprints on her sleeves. "Damn it. I'll look like the goddamn sky at this rate." She picks up the basket she'd placed on the floor. "Where's your video camera, anyways? I thought that you were going to help Janice with her project. Something about women."
"The definition of a woman," corrects James.
Kori raises her eyebrows. "Why didn't she just ask you? You got that pat down."
Rolling his eyes, James picks up his paintbrush again. The work obviously isn't going to be done by itself. "Janice has the video camera right now. She's going to be documenting a few of the girls here but give me the camera later for me to give feedback."
"As a female perspective?"
"You know what?" James dips his entire hand in red paint. "Come here!"
Kori laughs, backing away. "Just buy a ticket and then I'll leave."
"I thought they were free," inquires James, but still pulling out a ten from his back pocket. He uses one of the spare tissues to not get any unwanted colour on it.
Kori snatches the bill before her brother can complain. "Thanks! Bye!"
Closing his now empty hand, James scratches his nose. Well. That's that. He's momentarily distracted by a kid colliding with his shirt, mourning the pastel green and yellow now spread on his front.
Karlo returns, smug, while James' in the middle of wiping the colour off with his embroidered handkerchief (which needed some Tide and bleach when he got home). "Wow, blondie, seems you're as busy as I am."
James throws Karlo a dirty look. "No thanks to you. Did you get the lottery tickets? And—" he holds his hand up, grimacing. "If it was a blonde girl younger than you just don't say anything but yes or no."
The last thing James wants to hear is about his little sister getting hit on by Janice's brother. It's a pride thing more of a sibling thing at this point.
"Yeah, I did." Holding up the identical slip of paper with red serial numbers on it to the one in James' back pocket, Karlo grins. "Gotta love free stuff!"
"What do you mean free stuff...? Here, hold this."
Throwing the confused Karlo his handkerchief, James dipped his hands in a barrel of red paint. Perfect.
"James? Dude, where are you running off to? Man? Hey! Come back! I'm not doing this by myself! Paint will get in my nails! Oh, for Diablo's sake, let me get some paint, too!"
[ •∞• ]
BRANDISHING HER SPRAY CAN LIKE A WEAPON, BRIELLE gnaws at her lower lip, glaring at the stubborn teenage girl in front of her. At times like this, she is happy she grew up as an only child because her mom hit "emotional menopause" early.
(So have I, thinks Brielle, looking at Lexi).
"I said," Lexi argues, again, "I'm not writing down what you have written! That's what you can do."
"You've been assigned this job, darling!" Brielle grits through her teeth. "Literally all you have to do is write what we say. We have been going over this for the past hour!"
Janice rubs her temples, resisting the urge to splatter them both with the can she regrets attempting to use about one hour ago. "Can you guys just... shut up? I'll do it—"
"Stay out of it!" yells both of them.
Janice hisses at their shout. She is close to snapping their heads off at this point. "Yell at me one more time and both of your mouths won't be working enough to yell again."
Brielle winces. "Babe. My apologies."
Lexi, probably for the first time the entire day, agrees with Brielle. "Can I just work on my own thing and then you can work with me later?" She stuffs her hands in her pockets. "I'm so not a people person."
"Yet you come to a public event?" Janice deadpans, curious.
Shrugging, Lexi walks to find an empty spot on the wall before spraying. Bright green burst out to decorate the wall in a controlled fashion. "Owed Kori after something I did. She got me out of a tricky situation."
Lexi works quietly without any further indication of continuing her sentence.
"Look." Janice pinches the bridge of her nose. "You guys can work separately at this rate. Probably the better decision. But please get something done at the very least."
Hearing the exasperation in her friend's voice, Brielle lays a delicate hand on the shorter girl's shoulder. She squeezes. "Why don't you go around and film? We'll..." she makes eye contact with Lexi, and finally seem to make a nonverbal truce. "We'll get something done, okay?"
Janice silently offers Brielle the quotes submitted by the kids to put on the grey wall, thankful for the bickering was over (she had plenty of arguing to be done when her extended family came over, thank you). Taking Brielle's suggestion, Janice walks around with the forgotten video camera.
Finally, in the company of herself, she has time to breathe in the air of stale paint and must. It is comfortable for her to let the feelings wash onto her, taking in the volunteers, the kids, the art; everything seems so harmonious once she basks in the glory of it all without distraction.
The formerly forlorn kids seem so much more like normal kids as they ran around with pink fingerprints and giggles as colourful as their inked clothes. Even the volunteers relish in the unique atmosphere, taking snaps or videos to upload on social media.
Taking their cue, Janice puts her video camera on stand by.
Baffling, Janice thinks, how I could have been one of those small kids hoping to impress future prospects. How I could have been so alone on my voyage and so desperate for what should be a good time.
Troubled by the clenching in her chest, Janice decides to record some of the little kids concentrating on their work at the far end of the centre.
"What have you got here?" Janice questions a youngster, bending her knees to get at eye sight with the drawing. A large figure with horns and red eyes looked back at her. Looks like the logo for the Diablo family. "Ooh! I like it!"
Dressed in a vibrant blue dress, the girl smiled brightly. Her front two teeth are missing. "Thanks! Can you guess what it is?"
"Um..." Was it a dinosaur or an English soldier? The spikes were putting her off. "Something cooler than me, of course!"
"That's a given." Startled, Janice side eyes Donna making her way up the side of their place. A large cardboard box full of what Janice could make out were of napkins and water bottles. "Continue working, kids. If you need something, tell me!"
"Donna!" Janice rushes towards the girl before she turns away.
Donna wriggles her eyebrows as Janice runs up to her. "I knew you couldn't resist me. Should I dye my hair blonde, too?"
Ignoring the burn in her cheeks, Janice asks Donna for a favour. "Could you go check out the two girls over there?" Pointing towards Brielle and Lexi in the distance, and Janice releases a sigh as she notices the two back to their untimely squabble. "They could use so guidance on what they're supposed to paint or write."
"It's a freestyle art event," Donna says, confused.
Nodding demurely, Janice clasps her hands. "Please. I beg of you. Keep them in check. I can't deal with them anymore."
"Why do you sound like some of the mothers that come here with their children?"
"Oh, if they were my kids, I'd leave them under a bridge or something." Janice snorts. "Just give them a few instructions and make sure they don't kill each other. Or my equipment."
Sighing good-naturally, Donna agrees, and Janice can breathe a little easier knowing her friend would play the peace-maker.
Returning to getting some footage of the frenzy of people getting around to finishing touches, Janice takes in the assortment of feeling around her, finding it similar to that of being with her teammates; daunting, appreciative, and fulfilling to just know she was a part of something so much bigger than herself.
The change of scenery definitely aids in helping her relax. The best part about the rented building is that, while old, was massive. A former warehouse, the place was renovated slightly to suit the public gatherings often booked at the area. Tula had said that the spacious walls and interior framing allowed the artwork to be better showcased than their crumbling adoption centre, and Janice agrees as she watches the room slowly taking form before the visitors had even arrived.
Her wandering meant she left to find memorable pieces around the warehouse, hoping to progressively fill the memory card with the moments full of the light of the kids' eyes, the laughs of the visiting parents, the smiles of those noticing the change in front of their eyes.
It did not take long before almost two hours had past. After getting to know the different submissions and finding Renée and Kori for a couple minutes ("Girl," Renée had said, exasperated, "you're taking my shift tomorrow if I break my nail!"), Janice decides to head back.
It's not until she sees the familiar heads of the trio (unharmed and—miraculously—not at each others throats), that she takes a good look at their productivity.
What's this? Her eyes squint as she tries to discern the illustration a few metres away from her.
Her breath halts almost twenty seconds after she registers what it is.
Donna and Lexi had possibly gotten off way better than Janice anticipated, because they had made stupendous progress in the hours she was away. Even Brielle was painting some details with the paintbrush Janice had thought would be snapped in half by now.
Lexi sees her first. "Oh. You're back. And..." The girl seems lost with what to say, even a little pink. "Well?"
Brielle turns, hesitant. "You wanted to do something for women's opinions, if I got that correct?" And Janice feels so shaken (shook with feels) because there was a collage of different women printed on the wall, not just one as Janice had presumed.
Her video camera faithfully took every shaky step towards the picture, and there was no expression more candid and honest then the one on Janice's face, because in the tilt of her eyebrows, the slant of her mouth, the widening of her eyes, you could see human emotion in its most tangible form.
(Naked admiration had stripped her with a sort of pride she could not wear).
"You guys..."
(She could not wear it; for like any show piece in an exhibit, she could only accept her presence).
Donna looked abashed. "You made these two sound incorrigible. They weren't so bad after I promised them the rigged lottery tickets. Besides, I am an art student."
"We put people we thought would be worth putting in a woman's hall of fame," Brielle explains to the speechless redhead. "Hey. D-don't—stop tearing up!"
So Janice didn't. Instead, she gulps, swallows the gem stuck in her throat, and focuses on getting the full shot of the wall.
The drawing style is more pop-art outline than the realistic or cartoonish style, clearly to represent the culture of graffiti, but it serves to make the images even more striking.
Firstly, Donna had put Ms. Parker (in her signature pants and blazers) on the left. Janice let's out a shaky smile at the little caption, reading, "Don't talk back unless you want to lose ten percent! And real women earn back twenty percent if they do!"
The decorative mural pans on; celebrities like Marilyn Monroe, to leaders like Miss. Tula, to the three creators at the bottom with their signatures (when Janice raises her eyebrows at them, Lexi is the one quick to defend with, "What? Women can empower each other but not themselves? That would be stupid!" and Jamice only winks because it would be stupid indeed).
But the video makes an abrupt stop when Janice takes in the very image she never believed to be in this rank of good people.
She was trembling with a sort of graciousness her father told her about. Janice automatically reaches for the comfort of her mother's chain.
Brielle hesitantly reaches over, words full of pastel and blurred lines to Janice's ears. "Don't be so shocked. We decided to only put women we considered were an equivalent to heroes. Inspire a woman, inspire her nation, you know?"
Exactly, Janice thinks immediately. How could she think otherwise when the final image on the collage, right in the centre, was a girl with fire on her head and life in her eyes; a girl who bore her insecurities like war paint because she never knew how to fight them, who heralded a fire because she wanted to know if warmth, who had apparently burned so bright that her friends saw her an inspiration, a good cause, a hero despite the lack of a cape.
Janice faintly touches the still wet paint with her fingertips.
The painting of her only smiles back.
________
A/N: FIRST THINGS FIRST: ALSO WHO'S GOING TO WATTCON in Toronto this month? If you are, tell me! I'll be there and super excited to meet any of you.
Also, WOW look at Janice feeling feels. Long chapter for once since I felt bad for leaving you all hanging, haha. I'll probably do NANO again to finish this story by this year, hopefully.
Hope all of you are doing well. If you ever need to contact me or have reading requests, etc, please write a message on my message board. I get back to you for sure in the week of :)
Lots of love,
Sarena