Happy People Don't Live Here by Amber Sparks

Author:Amber Sparks
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liveright

Wherein Alice Attempts to Resist the Professor’s Charms

The Professor texted her several times during the next few days. I’m working, she said, and she was, somebody had to support this family, and now this strange woman was eating everything in Alice’s apartment, and anyway Alice didn’t want to be in a relationship with anyone! How could she date someone? How? Maybe he was the one threatening her!

She finally caved and invited him over but told him he’d have to zip it because she was working. Fern was working on her science homework, and Zillah had gone out; she did not say where. Alice did not ask when Zillah was going to leave for good. She wasn’t sure if she wanted an answer or not.

After several minutes of remaining rigidly true to his vow of silence, the Professor excused himself to go to the bathroom; Alice supposed he probably only did so to break the tedium for a minute. Or maybe he was turned on by silence; too much time studying his medieval monks.

Mom, if you don’t like him, whispered Fern, you should tell him so. It’s only fair.

I have, sort of, said Alice defensively. She was painting the walls of a room box blue, a deep azure.

No, you have not, said Fern. She closed her book and leaned over the table to see Alice’s handiwork. Sometimes it was very hard to remember that Fern was not an acceptable substitute for an adult friend.

Careful, said Alice, the paint is very wet. And maybe I do like him.

What is it? asked Fern. What’s it going to be?

A Blue Room, said Alice. With a capital B. She put down her paintbrush on the newsprint-covered table. It needs time to dry, she said.

Just the walls? said Fern. Or will everything be blue?

Everything, said Alice. It’s a copy of this empress’s famous bedroom, blue coverlet, blue bed frame, blue rugs, blue tapestries, blue murals. Blue everything.

The Professor was coming back down the hall slowly, but he heard them. In the Middle Ages, he said, blue was a heavenly color, a divine color. Mary’s robes, Mary’s mercy, Mary’s grace. All blue.

It wasn’t even much of a color until about six thousand years ago, said Alice.

What? said Fern. What do you mean, of course it was. How could a color not exist?

I mean, said Alice, pushing blue-tipped blonde hair out of her eyes, that people didn’t have any use for blue back then. Think about the Greeks and their wine-dark sea. It wasn’t until later that blue was holy; blue came late to this world.

Can I have a snack? said Fern.

I never cared much for blue, said the Professor, returning to his seat. But I’ve always been in love with green. The old kind of green, the moss that grows over graves, the color of ancient forests and green knights. I was really into King Arthur, he said.

Fern, you can have something healthy. I think there are carrots in the fridge. She didn’t tell the Professor that she, too, had been obsessed once with the romance of Camelot.

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