Page 59 of Make Me Scream

If Lane Porter is to critique the piece properly, he has to see it as “the artist” intended: up close, and from multiple angles.

“Have you been there yet?” I ask.

“No. And I won’t be going. I just wanted to know if this is really Alistair Rat.”

“As opposed to what? A fake?”

“An imitator,” Rush says. “Someone looking to capitalize on the Rat name.”

“Eh, I don’t think so. It really captures Rat’s brand of pretension and bored cynicism.”

Rush laughs.

“Good. I just wanted to be sure that this wasn’t one of our students.”

Excuse me?

“Really? Why would you think that?”

“One of our first-years, Gwen Carpenter, is a fan of Alistair Rat. How well do you know her?”

“The one from the videos, right? We met at the Askew Gallery,” I reply, glad he can’t see my scowl.

“Yes, her. I had to warn her against doing that again. She has a defiant personality, though, and I half expected her not to listen.”

I smirk. He definitely called it.

“I see. Well, I don’t have hard evidence that this is Rat’s work, but I’m pretty certain it is.”

“Good.”

I should end the call now, or at least change the subject, but there’s something I have to say. Not to play amateur psychologist, but maybe on some deep level I painted that mural just to get Rush to call and bring up Gwen. That way I could speak my piece, without having to broach the subject myself.

“Rush, did you really have to lay down the law with that student? It’s a new era — art has evolved. People liked what she did. If the public knew she went here, it wouldn’t reflect badly on the school. If anything, it could inspire more people to apply.”

“We don’t need more applicants, Lane. We needgoodapplicants. Artists who have the potential to carry on our traditions. If Ms. Carpenter wants to cause a scene on the subway, she can learn her craft somewhere else.”

Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought he’d say. I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and chalk this up to being stuck in the Mundell family’s ways. That’s not what’s really going on here, though.

“Will you actually leave her alone if she falls in line? Or have you taken a special interest in this one?”

Rush grumbles into the phone.

“So what if I have? She’s not your student, she’s not your business. And don’t lecture me. You’re one to talk. What was the last one’s name again?”

That’s low.

“True. I’m not innocent. But at least I never threatened to kick someone out of the school.”

“No, that’s true. You just break their hearts. I keep my entanglements purely transactional in nature and everyone gets what they want. Ms. Carpenter will too, if she learns not to make trouble.”

We’re both lucky this conversation’s happening over the phone, or in the next minute he’d have a broken jaw and I’d be unemployed.

He’s already too late. I’ve claimed her. But, if he doesn’t get what he wants from Gwen…

“Thanks for the talk, Lane,” Rush says. He doesn’t wait for me to respond before hanging up. That’s for the best.

I text Gwen and tell her to come to the studio as soon as she’s free.

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