Wethersfield High School - Elm Yearbook (Wethersfield, CT)

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l'Why, Jaques? Why? Collette was wide-eyed, hurt. Because-I do not know why! he said irritably. It does not live, he finished lamely. He wished she would not look so-so tragicg it made him feel cruel. The picture-he could barely understand what had happened. He had always been so happy, so free, so alive. Why then could he not portray the happiness, the vitality, that glowed from Collette? She talked on and on. Jaques could not bear the look in her eyes. You will go to Rossieux, Jaques? she was begging him. How could he tell her how he felt? He knew that his picture lacked a soul. A great picture must have a soul, someone had said. I will go.', He smiled gently as he saw the gladness sweep into her face. Now? she demanded eagerly. Will you go now?,' Now,,' he answered dully. But Collette was too happy to notice. He left her there, putting his things straight, singing to herself. He counted the steps, going down slowly. His feet dragged as he went out the door. It had begun to rain a little. He hardly noticed it. He only knew that a curious empty feeling of dismay was creep- ing over himg it was almost like being very, very hungry. He could not rid himself of it. It was a terrible feeling. It kept growing and growing as he walked along. lt was dusk when he returned. Collette was waiting for him ex- pectantly. He forced his eyes to meet hers. Collette-I-I could not go inf' A puzzled look came into her eyes, driving away the gladness that had been there. You did not go in-you did not see RossieuX? she queried in- credulously. Her voice was strained. I could not,', he repeated. ls it-they wouldn't let you in, Jaques! She pounced upon this explanation thankfully, that was itg they had turned away her Jaques at the door. That is all right-you shall go again-we shall go together-we shall get in! Already she was planning. No, it was not that. Jaques was hollow-eyed, a little dazed. Collette, I--I was-afraid! he forced the words. Afraid! You! Collette whispered in an awed voice. My Jaques afraid? she said slowly. 'Yes.', He looked away from her. She was very serious, more serious than he had ever seen her before, she was as serious as death. You have failed me, Jaques. You are-useless. You are not big enoughf' she paused a moment, for the gift that God gave you. He could barely hear her words, so gently she spoke. I believed in you! I loved you--a coward. I built my dreams about a coward, a life-time of dreams, Jaques!,' Her voice was beautiful. He held his breath and listened for the sob that was hidden beneath the words. It did not come. She was suddenly very angry. She stunned

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ll. No, no, no, Collette! Jaques frowned professionally and crossed the big room to where Collette sat. Like this-so!', he said, changing the position of one of her white hands and gently tipping her chin upward a little. There! There! Good!,' He smiled. Is it right-are you sure-like this?,' Collette questioned anxiously, sitting motionless as a little wax figure. Yes! Jaques said shortly. He squeezed a generous supply of white paint from a large tube, he wiped his hand once over the surface of his dirty smock. Then he began to work. He had worked for several hours before he noticed the shadows deepening under the girl's eyes. Collette! You are tired! No-,,' she smiled wanly. Ah, Collette, I didn't think. I'm so sorry. We must stop now. He turned and put his palette down carefully. We shall have Madeline make us some tea- The smile left his lips. Collette, he exclaimed. Collette had suddenly drooped. Jaques ran to her, calling as he went: Madeline! Madeline! There was the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs to his work- room. In a moment a little woman hurried in. Ach, du lieber!,' she scolded rapidly. You have no sense, Jaques. You have tired her out with your painting! Little tired one,,' she crooned, pillowing the dark head on her shoulder. Jaques felt suddenly lost and somehow a little hurt, as he followed the two down the steep stairs. He wanted to help-he had not meant to tire her like thisg he had been so intent upon his work. He felt suddenly very tired and hungry and bewildered. Presently, when the three were drinking hot tea and munching eroissants, it was better. Collette's eyes began to glow, and the shadows beneath them were not so deep. Madeline chattered good-naturedlyg without being able to explain it, she felt proud of Jaques, and of the lovely dark girl at his side. They were all very happy there together, with the sun streaming through the great windows and the warm air of Southern France breathing the scent of flowers into the room. ' There followed many more such hours. Jaques was careful not to work too long each day, for Collette was not strong. They laughed a great deal together. Collette was so confident in him, he was so con- fident in himself, together they would accomplish things-great things. III. What is wrong, Jaques? You have worked so long, and now you will not show your work before Rossieux! The picture is not good, repeated Jaques stubbornly, a little mechanically.

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him with cruel, cutting words. She berated him with bitter remarks. Jaques was hurt, hurt deeply. His throat burnedg he could say nothing. Then, she was gone. He had scarcely known when she had stopped. She had gone-he knew-because he heard the echo of her footsteps, her high heels beating defiantly into the night. After that, it was quiet, he heard the little old clock in the corner ticking away the minutes-slow, slow minutes. Somewhere a child cried. Mere! Ma mere! Jaques leaned against the window. It was open. The cool night air ruffled his hair. Poor little baby, he whispered. He too felt like crying, only somehow he couldn't. He wondered vaguely, staring up at the stars, what would happen if he should sud- denly weep and call, ma mere-ma mere into the darkness. It was a curious thought, he played with it, and all the while the little clock was ticking--oh, so slowly. He counted the ticks by the stars, for every beat, he chose one star. There was a heaven of stars, there were end- less minutes to count. The next day Jaques went away. IV. It was night. Collette sat by the Window in her room, thinking. lt was a week since Jaques had leftg during that time her anger and resentment had surpassed the loss she would otherwise have felt at his going. But now she was lonelyg for the first time she realized that Jaques was actually gone. All day a sense of emptiness had been creep- ing over her, making her miserable. She wanted to cry, but she could notg she was dry-eyed and still. It was all so unbelievable. Surely if she should slip out into the darkness and run along the narrow path- fbeir path-she would find him waiting for her. Suddenly she was afraid. She wanted to turn her head quickly and look behind her, yet she dared not for fear of what might be before her. She could not moveg her fear seemed to freeze her. She tried to scream, she could make no sound. Her head was hotg she managed to touch it with her hand, her Hngers were icy. She did not know how long she sat there stiff and dumb with awful fearg it seemed hours. At last through sheer will-power, she forced herself to cross the room. She fell panting on the bedg her brain whirledg her head seemed to ring with countless thousands of bells. At dawn, exhausted, she fell asleep. In the week that followed she grew to dread the nights. She told no one of her fear. Her face looked drawn--her eyes hollow and fear- ful. Then one day she broke under the straing her nerves had snapped. It was then that she found relief in talking. Little by little dur- ing the slow weeks of her recovery, she cold of those nights. Before long, she discovered that she was no longer afraid. But she had come through the ordeal feeling olderg she thought a great deal, and deeplyg most of the child-like Collette was gone.