The Seventh Child by Howard Kaminsky

Author:Howard Kaminsky [Kaminsky, Howard Kaminsky and Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Polis Books
Published: 2016-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

33

THE DAY was clear and bright. The light was so luminous that even the gritty old factory towns of Adams and North Adams took on a cheerful, inviting aspect. A few minutes out of North Adams, Judy saw the huge stony knuckle of Mount Greylock. She had been this way twice before to see the rich collection of Renoirs and Whistlers at the Clark Art Institute. She had fallen in love with Williamstown immediately. Seven times smaller than Northampton, it reflected the tradition and charm of the college, which was both the hub and the spokes of the town.

Alan Glicksman’s directions were precise and easy to follow. She located the building where she was to meet him on the first shot. As she parked the car, she reminded herself not to tell Hal about this visit. Her cover story was that she was driving to Springfield to price washing machines at Lechmere’s. She would stick to that.

Judy was five minutes early, so she strolled idly through a small quadrangle. As she walked back toward the meeting point, an errant Frisbee whistled into her calf. The boy who retrieved it was properly apologetic and the tingling stopped within seconds.

When she had telephoned Alan Glicksman, she was happily surprised that he did remember her. He even mentioned a SoHo group show in ‘73 where he had seen some of Judy’s paintings. After they had set the time and place, Judy asked what he looked like.

“Short, dark, and hairy. My wife thinks I look like a hirsute Aznavour. But, remember, she loves me.”

And true to his word, Alan, all five feet five inches of him, complete with a full pirate’s beard, stood at the building’s entrance talking animatedly to a student.

“The origins of the silhouette were mainly economic. All you needed was paper and scissors. James Sanford Ellsworth started that way before moving to watercolors.”

“Alan?” asked Judy, with very little uncertainty in the question.

“Hi, Judy. Be with you in a sec.”

Alan turned back to the student and finished his point. He then guided Judy through the campus to a small coffee shop tucked above a bookstore.

“The pastries are quite good here. I insist you try the cannoli. It’ll make you believe you’re sitting in Ferrara’s. I, however, am on a diet created by Dr. Mengele and will have to enjoy it vicariously.”

Since the day was hot, they both had tamarindo sodas. While Judy demolished the cannoli, Alan reminisced about New York.

“I remember seeing you at the opening of that group show in SoHo. I also remember they served a punch made of recycled sterno. One of the others in the show, Lenny Miller, was a friend from college. I still see him. Alas, he also teaches. You had three canvases in the show and I remember wanting to buy one. Unfortunately, I had trouble swinging the purchase of a Mounds bar in those days,”

“I’m amazed. I can’t conceive of anyone remembering those paintings aside from myself.”

“The one that particularly sticks in my head was a shaped canvas with a strong green chevron running down from the corner.

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