can·gian·te /kanʲˈʤa nte/
Noun: An artistic technique characterized by the change of a hue into a different, lighter one when the original cannot be made light enough or the change to a darker hue when the original hue cannot be made dark enough
“Um...” Axel said, “I have zinc ions in my solution...”
His Chemistry teacher nodded. “Go on.”
“I also have thiocyanate anions.”
“Two out of three. Get the last one right and you’re free to go.”
Axel fidgeted before taking a deep breath. “...Ammonia ions?”
Ms. Cortes shook her head. “You were so close, Axel, so close.” She said. “That was your second strike, right? You have one chance left. Use it well.”
Frustrated, Axel walked back to his spot in the lab.
He and his classmates were in the middle of a quantitative analysis of ions in solutions when Ms. Cortes presented the unnamed test tubes to the class. When the test tubes were set down, there was a mad rush for the blue-coloured fluids. Axel remembered vaguely that they contained copper ions, but his chance of getting an easy point was snatched from him by a stealthier classmate. C’est la vie, he had thought as he picked test tube containing a honey-coloured fluid.
Forty-five minutes and two mistakes later, Axel found himself cursing his luck.
Once he returned to his seat, Axel discovered that some precipitates had already formed at the bottom of his test tubes. He couldn’t help but panic; did someone contaminate his sample?
“Are you all right, Axel?” Beatrice asked as she took off her goggles. Beatrice was one of the few people who managed to get their ions right on the first try.
Axel nodded. “Just a bit annoyed, that’s all. Whenever I think I got my ions right, something goes wrong. I already used up my second guess. And someone may or may not have contaminated my sample.”
“It’s all or nothing for you now, huh?” Amica spoke as she adjusted her hijab beside Beatrice. “Don’t worry; I don’t think anyone messed up your sample. Have you tried looking for nitrate ions in it?”
“I did, but I didn’t see a brown ring like the lab manual said I should.” Axel sighed.
Beatrice looked at Ms. Cortes to see if she was occupied. Once she confirmed that the teacher wasn’t looking at them, she turned back to Axel, “You don’t have to wait for a brown ring to form.” She whispered. “Just acidify your sample, add five drops of ferrous sulphate and two drops of sulphuric acid, then see if the solution heats up. I did my research prior to this experiment so I know, but don’t tell anyone, all right?”
Axel smiled. “Thanks.” This was exactly why everyone liked Beatrice; she was smart and kind. Furthermore, she’s very petite and good-looking, and at least a third of the boys in their class had admitted in having a crush on her. As he watched Beatrice comb out her curls from the corner of his eye, he didn’t have to wonder why.
No, now’s not the time to get distracted, Axel thought as he focused on his test solution.
After a somewhat satisfying outcome in the lab, Axel went to the library to try and find some books about Asian history. He spent the first few minutes looking through the shelves before giving up and heading to some of the bean bags that a couple of thoughtful alumni donated to the school. He saw a young woman sitting on of them, reading one of the books he was looking for.
It was Anya.
“Hey.” Axel whispered. “I thought you’re a senior? Aren’t you supposed to be done with Asian history?”
Anya looked up from the book she was reading. “I was reading the part about Asian philosophies. I need it for my paper. And hello.”
Nerd. “You could always look stuff up on the Internet, you know.” Axel said.
“I love reading stuff from books more because I appreciate the fact that a tree had died just so it could sacrifice itself for the production of these pieces of paper.” Anya patted the book. “Besides, shouldn’t I be asking you the same question? Or do you have something else to do here?”
Axel sighed and sat on the bean bag across from her. “Are you done? I need to have that book checked out. Please.”
Anya started reading again. “Give me five minutes. I’m almost through.”
In the dim lighting of their corner, Anya’s eyes looked almost black. Axel could only lean back and wait as patiently as he could. Lunch break would be over soon.
“Which Asian philosophy are you reading now?” Even though she found Anya to be a tad strange and creepy, Axel was more than willing to break the suffocating silence.
“Buddhism.” Anya replied, not taking her eyes off the book. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Whenever you think you’ve gotten the answer to your question, you end up bringing more unanswered questions to light. Fascinating.”
Axel wasn’t exactly sure whether she was referring to what she was reading or the fact that he kept on asking so many questions. He couldn’t help it though, especially when it seemed like she knew so much about him.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“I told you to call me ‘Anya’.” She replied.
“No, your full name.”
“Anya Karenina.”
Stubborn. So fucking stubborn. Anya might be an outsider dressed in a uniform for all he knows.“Okay, how old are you?” Axel asked.
“Older than you, of course.” Anya said.
“Those were such specific answers, thanks.” Axel rolled his eyes. “Why do you wear long sleeves every day? Don’t you feel uncomfortable wearing them in this heat?”
Anya smiled sheepishly. “I have fat arms and I want to hide them. I like wearing hoodies for the same reason.”
“Won’t the sleeves make them look larger, though?”
“Let’s just say that everyone’s entitled to their own opinion, shall we?”
“Why do noses run and feet smell?”
“Because English is a weird language, Axel.”
“If convenience stores are supposed to be open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, why do they still put locks on their doors?”
“Holidays and scary people.”
Axel decided to take it up a notch. “Why are your teeth yellowish? Don’t you brush?”
Anya sighed.
“Rude.” She retorted, but she didn’t sound angry. “It’s called fluorosis. If you could waste your time on the internet looking up silly questions, maybe you could use it to help you research more relevant matters instead of subconsciously insulting someone else.”
Axel looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. People ask me the same question all the time. And since you’re so keen on leaving early, let’s walk to the librarian’s desk while I finish my reading.” Anya closed her book and walked off. For someone who wore high heels, she sure walked fast. Axel tried his best to keep up with her while hauling his heavy backpack at the same time.
Axel was about to apologize again but abruptly shut his mouth and stopped his brisk walk when he saw a framed ¼ illustration board nailed to the wall. The transparent plastic sheet used to cover it looked worn out and dusty, but that didn’t prevent Axel from noticing the painting beneath it.
It was of an old ship battling the waves. The painter had taken care to paint the wood grain as accurately as possible and make the flags look like real battered cloth. The ripples in the water, the cumulus clouds in the sky, even the birds that flew past were all painted with care. The amount of details was almost overwhelming but it only added to the charm of the painting.
What captivated Axel the most was the painter’s choice of colours. The pinks, oranges, and yellows all blended seamlessly into a magnificent sunset. It left Axel breathless. Even though he was good at mixing colours, he wasn’t that good when it comes to choosing colour schemes.
“Hello, earth to Axel.” Anya said, waving a hand in front of Axel’s glasses.
“Can you not? I’m trying to look at this painting.” Axel said, his eyes still glued on the image.
“But you’ve been looking at it for two minutes.” Anya complained. “Let’s move along.”
Axel found himself gingerly touching the artwork. “Hey,” he said, “what brand of watercolours do you think the painter used for this?”
“The cheapest one in the market.” Anya dryly said.
“Anya, I am serious.” Axel finally looked at her. “I mean, just look at it. The splatters, the textures, the vibrancy of the colours, they almost seem... magical. Surely the painter invested a bit of cash to get the right brand of paint for this.”
“Wrong.” Anya shook her head. “The painter used the cheapest one available in this town.”
“Stop fibbing.” Axel frowned.
“I’m telling the truth.” Anya blinked at him. “I should know. I was the one who painted that.”
It took a few moments for Anya’s words to register in Axel’s mind.
“You what?!” Axel almost shouted, his voice echoing in the library. The librarian shushed him.
Anya walked past him and traced a finger down the painting. “I was sixteen. I ran out of watercolours in tubes, so I had to use the plates thing. The ones that children use. I procrastinated the hell out of this piece. In fact, I did this in school. For some reason, the teachers wanted this messy thing framed, and here it is.”
Axel was quiet for a moment before he got over the shock. “Prove it.” He challenged. “Prove that you can paint.”
Anya didn’t even flinch. “Sure thing. Have any watercolours with you right now?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Axel said, searching through his stuff. Eventually, he managed to procure a box full of watercolour tubes, a palette, and a couple of brushes. Anya filled a plastic cup with water from a drinking fountain outside. They dropped their stuff on a nearby table.
“Gsm?” Anya asked, referring to Axel’s sketchpad.
“220.” Axel said.
“Brilliant.” Anya flipped to a blank page. She took one of the brushes and ran her finger through the bristles. “These are not taken care of.” She observed. “You’ve been abusing these, haven’t you?”
“Stop treating them like they’re alive, jeez.” Axel rolled his eyes.
“Tut-tut. For a painter to paint the best he could, he needs to have the best brushes possible.” Anya soaked the brush in the water, brushed it against the dark brown splotch that had dried on Axel’s palette, and started painting.
Axel blinked in confusion. The brown ended up looking almost transparent on the paper.
“It’s called ‘dilution’.” Anya whispered. Axel felt his cheeks heat up; has he always been this clueless when it comes to wet media?
He stayed quiet as Anya drew the figure of a young man sitting on the ground and leaning against a tree, holding something to his chest. Layer by layer, Anya added an array of colours that suggested the bright sun rays of noontime. She made her blues and greens bright. Even though the colour scheme she used was different from the one on the wall, there’s no doubt that the style and the technique was produced the same hand.
Anya picked up the smallest brush and started drawing the details. She worked quickly, but was still awfully meticulous with her work. She faintly outlines parts of the trees, the leaves, the grass, and finally the young man who was actually holding a sketchpad-
“Hold on, is that...?” Axel found himself asking.
“It is.” Anya drew glasses on the boy’s face.
It was a picture of Axel drawing under the mango tree. She was done in well under thirty minutes, but she still succeeded in replicating how she saw him for the first time, or so he assumed.
His and Anya’s art styles looked so different. While Axel was all about bold strokes, Anya was all about the subtlety and the details. Plus as much as he hated to admit it, Anya’s colour choices were much more interesting and lively than his. He felt his heart sink.
“I hope you believe me now.” Anya said, writing the date on the bottom right part of the page.
“Aren’t you going to sign it?” Axel asked, trying to mask the twinge of envy he felt.
“Nope.” Anya closed the sketchpad and handed it back to Axel. “I don’t think any of my works are good enough to have a signature on them, so I never sign my work.”
Axel tightened his grip on his sketchpad. Leave it to Anya to casually rub salt on the wound. Maybe lowering his self-esteem was her way of reprimanding him for being so tactless.
“It’s nothing, really.” Anya said as Axel started packing up his stuff. “I’m not ambidextrous like you.”
Axel almost dropped his backpack. “You know I’m ambidextrous?” Maybe she wasn’t that angry with him, after all.
“It’s pretty obvious.” Anya shrugged. “You sign stuff with your right hand, you draw with your left. You’re really, really talented Axel.”
She bit her nails and hesitated for a bit. Finally, she continued.
“Axel, there’s someplace I want you to be.”
Book forgotten, Axel found himself wanting to satisfy his curiosity.
“W-Where are we going?” Axel asked.
“You have two pairs of eyes. You should know.” Anya said, quickening her pace.
Somehow, they both managed to get out of the campus without getting caught. Axel knew he shouldn’t just follow a strange girl around like that but since he already gave up on catching his lessons, he might as well do something productive with his time.
And by productive, he meant drawing. Anya seemed to have a different idea, for she dragged him along with her to the town plaza. There were several students wearing different uniforms present, so Axel assumed that they all came from different schools. They all gathered in the plaza to participate in an art contest, or so it said on the tarpaulin posted on the stage-
Hold on, seriously?
“Anya.” Axel grabbed Anya’s wrist. She stopped walking and looked at him. “Anya,” Axel repeated, “what are we doing here?”
“We’re going to do drugs.” Anya curtly said. Axel rolled his eyes.
“Yes, I have two pairs of eyes, and I know that there’s some drawing contest going on, but why would you want to get out of the campus just to get me to watch students like us draw stuff?”
“You got it all wrong, Axel.” Anya said. “I’m going to watch a bunch of students like us draw stuff. You’re going to compete.”
Compete. Compete. Axel’s jaw dropped.
“You can’t possibly be serious.” He breathed.
“Oh, but I am.” Anya gently freed her wrist from Axel’s hand. “Like I said, you’re a very talented artist. It would be such a shame to put all that talent to waste. You want to prove something to the people around you and yourself, don’t you? Now’s your chance.”
Axel looked at the crowd. They started gathering around the indoor basketball court where chairs and tables had already been set up. Some of the students started taking their seats. He felt butterflies in his stomach; it must be so nice being chosen to represent their schools for such an event. He imagined the thrill of being able to draw alongside them. However...
“I don’t think I can do it, Anya.” He sounded defeated.
“Yes, you can.” Anya said. “I have faith in you. Don’t you want to try your luck at contests like these and see if you can leave a life of mediocrity behind? At least the people here would acknowledge your talents.”
“I’m fine with mediocrity if it means certainty.” Axel said. Even though it’s true, the words still tasted bitter on his tongue. He couldn’t help but remember Mrs. Martinez and Mr. Lualhati’s words, as well as his own classmates’ doubt in his ability to draw. And even if does compete, what good would that do? They’d only have more proof that he’d been cutting classes.
Anya looked into his eyes, as if she were trying to read his thoughts, before sighing. “If that’s the case then let’s have a deal.” She said. “Compete just this once. If you lose, I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll stop creeping you out.” Axel was about to protest but she continued. “...Not like I’m expecting you to lose, though.”
“You overestimate my abilities.” Axel snorted.
“No, you merely underestimate yours.” Anya gave him a sly smile. “They’re already taking out their art materials. You better make up your mind soon.”
Axel looked at the tables and thought. Of course he wanted to compete, and it’s not like he’d lose anything if he didn’t win. And then there’s the added bonus of getting rid of Anya. Speaking of which...
“Why don’t you compete?” Axel turned around to ask her, but she’s already gone. It’s almost scary how quickly she could hide herself. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Young man, the contest is about to start.” A man in a barong tagalog said. “Please get to your seat.”
Axel adjusted his glasses. I might as well.