Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

Name and time from now on," she said. "I took Arthur to your room to introduce him to Dawn and there was no one there," she added, making it sound like the most horrible thing ever.
    "I'm sure he didn't mind," Trisha replied and swung her eyes toward me.
    "Nonsense. Of course he would mind. It was like walking out on a stage and having no audience. Come along, Dawn," she said. "I'll introduce you now. I don't like Arthur being slighted."
    Trisha and I followed Agnes up the 'stairway. We stopped at a closed door and Agnes knocked softly. There was no reply, nor did anyone come to the door. Puzzled, I turned back to Trisha, who only shrugged. Agnes knocked again.
    "Arthur? Arthur, dear?"
    A few moments later, a very tall and exceedingly thin boy opened the door. He had a prominent Adam's apple. I could hear Daddy Longchamp saying, "Now there's a bean pole."
    Arthur had large, sad, black eyes the same color as his ebony black hair, which was long and straggly. It looked like he had never taken a brush to it. He had a long, lean nose and a mouth with pencil-thin lips. His face was narrow with his chin almost coming to a point. Against his jet-black hair and eyes, his skin looked very pale. He made me think of wild mushrooms growing in damp, dark places in the forest.
    Arthur wore a black cotton shirt that ballooned out around him as though it was filled with air. It was tucked into charcoal-gray slacks.
    "Good afternoon, Arthur," Agnes said. "Here is the young lady I promised you would meet: our new student." She stepped back so I could step forward. "Dawn Cutler, meet Arthur Garwood."
    "Hello," I said, extending my hand.
    "Hello." He looked down at my hand as if he first had to inspect it for germs and then took it and let it go so quickly, I wasn't sure we had actually touched. He glanced at me quickly, but I thought I saw the glint of interest in-them even though he dropped his gaze to look down at the floor.
    "Arthur, as I told you, is a very talented musician," Agnes said.
    "I'm not talented," he snapped, looking up sharply. His dark eyes flared.
    "Of course you're talented," Agnes said. "You're all gifted young people or you wouldn't be here. Well," she said clasping her hands together and pressing them to her bosom, "I hope you all become very good friends and years and years from now, when all your names are up in lights, you will remember how I first introduced you."
    "I'll never forget it," Trisha said. I looked back and saw her smiling.
    "Let's all get ready for dinner," Agnes said, not hearing Trisha's sarcasm.
    Arthur Garwood took that as a cue to close his door.
    His action caught me by surprise and I had to step back quickly or get my foot caught. Trisha saw the look of shock on my face and seized me under the arm to pull me to our room. As soon as our door was closed, she burst into laughter, laughing so hard she made me laugh, too.
    "See what I mean about Bones?" she said, holding her stomach. "I'm not talented," she said, making her voice deep to imitate him.
    "Why is he so unhappy?" I asked. "I don't think I've ever seen such deep, melancholy eyes."
    "He doesn't want to be here. His parents made him come. Maybe, when you want to put yourself into a depression, you'll get him to read you some of his poetry. Anyway, thank goodness you're here," she added, "so I don't have to face that all alone." She began to undress to take a shower.
    "You can use the other bathroom to shower," she said. "You don't have to wait for me."
    "But I thought Agnes said that was supposed to be for the boys?"
    "It is, but Arthur never showers and dresses for dinner. He wears the same clothes day in and day out, and there's no one else here yet."
    I chose a pretty pink princess-shaped dress to wear to my first dinner at the student house, laid it out on the bed, and then scooped up my bathrobe and went to take a shower. I had just gotten undressed and stepped into the stall when I heard the doorknob turning and saw the lock snap open. It was obviously faulty. It happened so fast, I had no time to do anything. Arthur Garwood stepped in with a towel over his shoulder, his eyes down. I screamed, covering my bosom the best I could with my left arm and hand while my right hand dropped to shield the nudity beneath my waist. Arthur looked up. The moment he saw me, his mouth dropped open and his pale complexion turned so red, he looked feverish. Then I reached out and pulled the shower curtain around my naked body.
    "I . . . oh . . .